Author Topic: KOTALOS IN THE ARENA --- THE CURSED SON (incest, foot fetish)  (Read 2737 times)

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Note: After a year and a half on these forums, I am beginning to know what most readers like, and each time I begin a new story, I choose to write what I really want to write.

This is the first sequel to Gladiators Revolt! / Pontia's March:

Warning! You must be 18 or over to read these stories of rape and non consensual sex. If you do not like such stories, or if such stories are illegal or regulated in your locality, please leave now.  We don't advocate rape or non-consensual sex. This is only a story, a work of literary fiction, and if you do not understand the difference between reality and fantasy, read no more. Rape is a heinous crime and the penalty is many years in prison. Persons who commit rape are despised everywhere. But these fantasies are permitted, so long as real people are not hurt, in the interest of furthering artistic and educational discussion.

All characters featured in this story are at least 18 years old; the words "teenage" and "teen girl", "slave girl/boy", "maid" or the Latin "virgo" all refer to girls aged 18 or 19 only.



Chapter 1 --- The Greek Singer

"Feminas amo. Mirum est, at hoc est. Plurimis vim feci, at me delectant..."
(I love women. Surprising, but true. I violated many [of them], but they [the women] are my delight.)

Such were my thoughts as I lay on my bunk at that mysterious hour when night morphs into twilight; I lay warm and comfortable under the crude wool blanket I had been issued, as I listened to the dying rain and enjoyed the music played by the waning wind as it blew past the narrow-barred window of my gladiator's cell in Rhegium.

What was the date? October of the year 827 ab Urbe condita [74 A.D.]. Only six months ago, I was Kotalos, the Greek slave who taught Greek to my masters' twin daughters, Cynthia and Lavinia. I spoke it to their mother as well. My wonderful Claudia; the first woman I ever made love with.

My master got killed by his own revolted slaves when our villa was attacked and sacked by a strong company of turned-loose gladiators. Claudia got raped. By me, by the gladiators, by her own slaves. Cynthia and Lavinia got savagely gang-raped along with the teenage girls and wives of the neighbouring families who had sought a futile refuge in our soon-overran villa. I got mad with lust. Overwhelming lust.

Then I was riding a horse in the outlaw vanguard. A powerful, capable man by the name of Euturpalus took me under his wing. He was of Etruscan blood, swore in Etruscan; fought like the ancient Etruscan gladiators! He started training me; the gladius felt like a natural part of my body the first time I wielded it.

Then came more villa plundering and rape. I will never forget that time when we stopped two lecticas (litters) out in the plains; two rich noble couples, each on a litter carried by four powerfully built African slaves, who turned against them, made short work of their masters and then gang-raped the pretty wives! Then we partook.

Then we quickly went from hunters to hunted. The Roman Legion. The General. The Samnite cavalry. Pontia. Pontia who sort of raped me in her old Samnite ritual ways. Pontia who taught me how to speak Samnite Latin. Pontia who was taken down by her own mutinied men, and gang-fucked all the way from Capua to Rhegium, here, at the southernmost point of Italy, on a stretch of land by the sea, the Strait of Sicily, overlooked by Mount Ætna, the sleeping fire giant whose ominous snow-covered figure stands watch in the far-away sky.


I was woken up by three sharp blows on my door. Whoever was late for our morning porridge and wined vinegar got a couple of hits on his hide and lost a privilege or two for a week or two. Discipline. Spartan discipline.

I was on my feet, washed and shaved well in time. I contemplated the window sill, where my future statue of Neptune would stand nicely so I could pay homage to my protecting god. I would send someone to buy one for me with one of the coins I had won in the arena. One silver coin, I gave to a friend who had died on that fateful day.

I had my first arena fight three days before. So did Pontia, who ended up standing like a vengeful goddess on the sand, naked barring the bronze greaves covering her lower legs, brandishing her long spatha, the blade covered with the blood of a gods-offending fool she had just decapitated.

When would I see her again? She was now training with the two other gladiatrices in a separate part of our schola gladiatoria. When would I fuck her again? She loved me. I knew as much, and felt great elation out of it! I loved her two. We had told each other during our last night together; the ritual gift to fighting men and women who might die the very next day.

I would always remember her as she was when she dominated me, her prisoner, when she was a cavalry decurion commanding her 30-strong turma. Now I knew what she sounded like when I was dominating her and giving God's Delight to her, along with my Greek seed.

Her sea-mist grey eyes were from a divine grandfather, the almighty god of the sea and coastlands --- Poseidon, or Neptune for the crowd. Her naked body had immense power over me; her half-naked body, and her lovely feet, made me feel like being touched by the gods.

Then I became aware of Aria's soft, girly presence at my side. She was serving my watered wine as I ate my barley porridge. She fugitively looked at me and was gone before I had time to say "Thank you, sweet Aria!"

Sweet Aria. I had fucked her too, just once, during this crazy march, after that mutiny that saved me from crucifixion. Tiberius and his men, my tormentors and saviors, had captured her after storming a small outpost, along with a blonde woman by the name of Gaella. Now she was a serving slave, and fuckmeat for entertainment, in the arena and as a reward for good gladiators. I had heard that our lanista himself had some alone-time with her.

She was most certainly my age, 18. She was 19 or 20 at the very most. Her petite body and pale skin was the same as a virgo vestalis. While Pontia was energetic and powerfully feminine, Aria was the sweet girl with a fascinating face; her features were incredibly unique and her large eyes would look at me like two feminine emeralds of forest greenery. Her hair were like dark shadows under large pines, and they matched the pine-sap perfume she wore the first day I was near her.

Of all the girls I had been inside of, Aria was the most similar to Lavinia, now in Rome with her twin sister, entertaining Pretorian guards in some brothel. Lavinia, whom I never got to know in the flesh.

Sweet little Aria. Perhaps I'd get to choose her next time I'd earn the privilege, but choosing her over Pontia would make the latter jealous and it could anger Neptune. You don't want to have gods angry with you when you're a gladiator. My heart sank when I realized this; Aria was in fact out of bounds for me. This was ironic. I had the love of a demi-goddess, but a simple girl looked even more attractive because I couldn't have her, unless I paid a price I knew I was unwilling to pay. Life always find a way to get hard.

I thought I was going to train my sword drills as usual, but the head instructor selected five of us, and he took us to the front yard, where he lined us up under the brightening morning sun. We stood there, quiet and increasingly thirsty, as our lanista, our boss, came along. He was not alone.

At his side walked a gorgeous woman in her thirties. She had long black hair, bright skin and stood noble, clad in her ivory-white Greek-style stola, the long, pleated dress usually worn by women. I instinctively looked at her leather-sandaled feet and I instantly knew I would love to fuck this woman.

As she stood in front of us, I recognized her. She was the singer at the arena three days ago! She had sung the Hymn to Nemesis before my very first fight ( As I recognized her, I slapped myself mentally for entertaining such lascivious thoughts! To me, she was just as out of bounds as a virgo vestalis!

My dick nonetheless got harder as my eyes independently discerned the perky shapes of her breasts, pushed out of her chest under her white stola, all her noble figure bright under Rhegium's sun.

In my mind, I saw her again just as she was when she stood high above us over the arena, standing tall in her top-light dress with a wide black belt that highlighted the pure-white of her garments and underscored the divine, inviolate feel of her curves.

« Last Edit: April 03, 2022, 09:03:08 PM by HistBuff »

Offline Rainbow
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« Reply #1 on: March 17, 2022, 12:46:08 AM »
Again a good one to begin…  :emot_thedrool.gif:
If she can‘t breathe, she can‘t scream !

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« Reply #2 on: March 17, 2022, 05:25:23 AM »
Again a good one to begin…  :emot_thedrool.gif:

Hi Rainbow! Really nice to see you're still around!
I was having a darker spell. This time I didn't delete my account; progress! ;D
This story features a woman in her mid- to late thirties and a nice stable of hot young gladiators. Some readers may really like this. I will totally adore to strip this Greek singer naked! >:D

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« Reply #3 on: March 17, 2022, 07:10:21 AM »
Chapter 2 --- A Silent Meeting

Brixus, our lanista, a rather fat man with a wide face who looked like he probably ate a little bit too much honeyed shrimps and oysters, stood and looked at us, beaming as he stood between the beautiful Greek-looking woman, whose eyes met mine and quickly turned away, and Lucius Africanus, the head instructor, a former gladiator whose steel-hard muscles and scars spoke of many bloody encounters in the arena.

Brixus presently spoke in Rhegium's hellenized Latin... 
"Khairete Ô gladiatores novi! Hea, kuius nomen non dicendum, uuos quarto die ante hoori et uuiscum tempus agere kupit!"

I didn't understand everything, as I was still very new to the place, but I became aroused as I looked more intently at this off-limit woman, who was twice my age. In short, our lanista had saluted us, his new gladiators (Khairete Ô gladiatores novi!). He had said that this woman, she (Hea), whose name we were not to say, had ???? us fighting the fourth day before today, which was three days ago. Oh, she had seen us fighting; the Latin "videre" had sort of mixed with the Greek "Hoorein" (to see). Then, what he was saying had nothing to do with the hour of the day.

uuiscum tempus agere cupit... She had desire (cupit) to spend time (tempus agere)... with US! ("uuiscum" stood for vobiscum as Brixus spoke to us with a tinge of envy in his eyes.

Then, no further words were spoken.

Slowly, like a solemn procession under the Mare Infernum seaside sun, we walked to a small building, its stones white under the bright blue sky, and followed her inside. Neither Brixus nor Lucius entered with us. One by one, we walked passed them. I caught Lucius winking at me as I entered the building. Then the door was closed and locked behind us, leaving us alone... with HER!

I felt the shadowy room cooling my sun-warm skin and took the time to enjoy this freshness. This was a small room, which was almost empty. In a corner of the room, there were only three pouches of wine and a small earthen pot containing something I couldn't make out from where I stood.

The mysterious, inviolate, forbidden woman stood in front of us. She was so beautiful according to my own tastes! I started to speak to tell her that I loved her long black hair, with as much platonic deference I would use if I spoke to a virgo vestalis.

"Sigâte!" she said to all of us in Greek as she pressed her index finger against her dainty mouth, her lips adorned with a coral colour.
"Sigâte..." she repeated.

We obeyed and did not say a word. We were too shy to even breathe! We all looked at her, eye-raping her. I felt guilty for profanating her dignity in such a way, but I couldn't help it. Below my short tunic, my dick was getting swole and up.

Nobody moved. The Greek woman was breathing heavier; her chest pushed out her perky breasts that beautifully rose up and came down in a subtle motion. Her arms rested calmly along her sides, her curves well hidden, yet revealed under her stola.

The five men --- me among them, the youngest one --- looked at her. She looked back at us with a slight motion downward in her gaze; as if she was submitting herself.

I didn't know my four companions very much. They had shared my plight from Capua all the way down to this place, and I barely remembered their names. Truth be told, my mind had been all caught up with Pontia!

Kapirr and Jarvi were two Persian tall men who fought as myrmilliones; they had olive skin, black hair and wore beards. Sillenus fought as a Samnite and was very strong and fast. And lastly, Babuh, the midnight-black thraex fighter, was born in Egypt and worshipped a strange crocodile-headed god; he wanted to have someone buy incense for him so he could properly worship his Nile god.   

The woman was breathing harder, almost panting, while her gaze kept going from one man to the other. Among us, the primal tension was quickly increasing; a primal urge to rush at this beautiful woman, strip her naked and fill her up with our manly seed!

The silence was heavy with unspeakable realities. She kept watching us in this thick silence.

Sillenus took one step toward her. She immediately took one step back, fear in her eyes. Kapirr and Jarvi took two steps forward. I took three steps toward her.

She cowered back in a corner, placing her small pale hands in front of her in a futile protective gesture as we slowly closed in.

"Oxi!" (No!) she said in a semi-loud voice as we were now encircling her. The visible element of lust in this silence was extremely powerful. I was now rock-hard down there and kept contemplating her sandaled feet, suddenly very eager to feel the soles of her feet on my body, to feel and taste her girly freshness! And to RAPE! RAPE!!!

"Oxii!!!" she repeated, with panic in her eyes, frantically looking all around her as if there was a way out. There wasn't! She presently stood in the middle of us and was about to have her arms seized. It was all happening following a slow, delibarate script. My companions all seemed to share this tension-filled anticipation, almost reluctant to end it.

"OXI!!! OXIIII!!!" (No!!! Nooooo!!!) she began screaming when Sillenus and Kapirr grabbed her arms and Jarvi took her head between his large brown hands and forced-kissed her, silencing her as his light-brown mouth sealed with her delicate coral-coloured lips.

I took one of her legs and Babuh grabbed the other one as she started to bolt and squirm in our arms. I felt guilt to be profanating such a holy figure, but my want for her was getting stronger with each passing moment. I started to frantically undo her sandal, using all my strength to keep her from moving her leg as I rushed to get rid of the sandal and uncover the delicate whiteness of her foot.

She desperately bolted and squirmed in muffled sounds of forced-kissing, as Jarvi was still engulfing her mouth in his while the two men who held her arms were telling him to move out of the way; they wanted to see her tits! And RAPE her! RAPE!!!

"OXI!!! OXIIII!!! Deinóii!!" (No!!! Nooooo!!! Monsters!) Her shrill screams filled the small echoing room as Jarvi moved out of the way and the two acolytes kept their hold on her squirming arms and started assaulting her stola in a chaotic endeavour. Their freakish lust soon uncovered her white shoulder and then they pulled sharply down and sounds of tearing fabric filled my veteran's ears with their familiar music.

Through all this movement and moving flesh, I catched a glimpse of her right boob, now offered in its glorious nakedness, jiggling with its brown nipple on top as she kept bawling and putting on a vain fight. I slid her undone sandal off her foot and delightfully touched her forbidden silkiness, pulling her foot a little and rubbing it against my crotch through my tunic, enhancing my monster erection!

Sillenus now stood between her legs and was roughly tucking up her stola and the white tunic she wore under it, pushing it in wild disorder all the way up and against her hips, uncovering the untouched charms of her legs! I moved up to take her left arm and buried my face in her hair as I firmly restrained her. Her legs were gorgeous! All white and almost glossy in their naked purity as her quivering thighs desperately tried to push Sillenus away, but he was way too strong and heavy!

Sillenus now had his hard cock out and against the bush of her sanctum; I caught a glimpse of her jet-black cunt hair. He pushed all the way, in one titanic hip thrust and he growled hard in unfathomable satisfaction as he readily entered the Greek singer! She was probably already wet. She moved and acted like these noble Patrician women who had ended up enjoying what we did with their body!

Now, all the stored energy was let out! All at once! Sillenus grunted and pounded her with unrestrained abandon, looking intently at her bobbing head while her honey-scented hair kept stroking my face with chaotic grace as I strained to keep her in place and felt the gigantic force Sillenus was unleashing inside her and throughout her shaken body!

She was pinned amid us, all of us now lust-crazy animals. Being raped by a grunting man, now more ape than man. Her legs were spread open against his urging flanks, forced in a receiving position as he went repeatedly back and forth and gave her all his gladiator might in each and every thrust!

I felt and heard her intense whimpers! Barring the rapist's grunting, we were all silent. All of us were seasoned rapists and we knew that listening to the victim's groans and whimpers was just as fun as the rape itself. All of us were eager to experience what her vagina felt like.

Sillenus increased even more his already-crazy rhythm, grunting and groaning like a rutting boar! Then he suddenly let out a victorious scream that echoed wildly in the small room as he exploded inside the Greek woman and shot his load inside her polluted sanctum.

Then Jarvi took the first rapist's spot while Sillenus retreated, his legs pleasure-wobbly, his voice commenting that she was an amazing fuck! We didn't argue over who would go next. We all internally knew the organically established order and it was just natural that Jarvi presently pressed his cock against her entrance and delightfully penetrated her.

Jarvi's copulating rhythm was irregular and unpredictable. While Kapirr held her other arm, I maintained my strong grip on her left wrist, and I took advantage of the weakening in her resistance to pull her stola and tunic down her shoulder and arm, and then rip it further down, so we could all admire both her pure-white breasts jiggling under our contented eyes! She was truly gorgeous! A rival for an untouched demi-goddess! Now defiled!

Jarvi raped her silently, his grunts barely audible. She took his dickthrusts silently as well, her head bobbing and her breasts moving as two wonderful knolls of flesh in a timeless tumult, her inviting nipples erect and displaying a warm brown hue amid perfectly round areolas. I remembered the pouches of wine and I instantly understood what they were for.

Jarvi let out a low-pitched growl as he unloaded his generous flow of cum inside the violated singer of Nemesis. I softly pressed her left breast with my hand and thus fed my erection as the third man, Kapirr the olive-skinned Persian, took his place between her legs. We didn't go fancy with positions; we just wanted to fuck her and empty our loads inside her pussy.

This third rape was pretty much a repeat scene of the previous one, except that Kapirr was very noisy and kept banging her in long heavy strokes as he yelled all sorts of things at her in his consonant-rich language, and he kept urgently banging her until he cummed with a nice flourish of thick cream inside her, spurting out a parting bolt that landed on her immaculate belly and partly on her half-torn stola.

Now was my turn!

« Last Edit: March 17, 2022, 07:50:04 AM by HistBuff »

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« Reply #4 on: March 17, 2022, 05:30:05 PM »
CHAPTER 3 --- A Daytime Orgy

I pulled down hard on the remains of her Greek stola and her tunica intima, ripping and yanking all the ivory-white fabric down her hips, further profanating the pristine whiteness of her alluring torso, becoming acquainted with her soft navel, while Babuh, the black man from Egypt, added another layer of profanity by cupping her breasts from behind and blackening them with his hands.

In a raging fury, I broke her belt, and when this delicate zona gave way, I had her innermost black hair dancing in front of me, a violated sanctum high between her pristine upper thighs as her ruined garments slid down her knees. I grabbed both her thighs around my arms and plunged and rubbed my face against this black bush of cunt hair, ignoring the polluting semen that was still spilling out of her entrance. I felt and heard her moans as her cunt and breasts were being massaged.

Then I stood tall and motioned Babuh to flip her over, which was readily done. The noble shapes of her backside, the supple curves of her slender waist and the comparatively wide curving expanse of her butt were all suddenly revealed to my eyes in her blinding and powerful whiteness. The crack of shadows between her lower buns were the beacon inviting my hard throbbing dick.

With Babuh holding the Greek woman's arms and guiding her head toward his midnight-black dick, I spotted her entrance and pushed my cock inside!

"HRRRRRR...!!!" I groaned and closed my eyes in utter satisfaction as I firmly grabbed her wonderful waist and began roughly pounding her. She immediately started whimpering as I banged her with wild abandon, just like I did whenever I was a member of a horde sacking a villa!

Her moans and whimpers were soon silenced by Babuh's dick, as her mouth began pleasuring the black African man! She stood on her divine legs amid the discarded ruins of her garments, which made me think of a lake of fabric forming tumultuous white waves at her feet, one bare, the other one half exposed, half covered by a delicate sandal. Oooohhh, her lovely little feet! Their ungodly erotic sight made my dick painfully hard as it kept being powerfully massaged by her vaginal walls, which were surprisingly tight for a woman of her years, making me wonder whether she, like Pontia, was the granddaughter of some divinity.

Picturing her as she stood above the arena --- the inviolate, inaccessible singer --- I kept banging her with raging urgency and I soon powerfully exploded inside her, further pounding her as I felt my entire being go numb under Gods Delight and my now-independent dick shot thick ropes of burning seed deep inside the violated Greek singer!

I knew she had herself taken arrangements for this game. It was fun and elating nonetheless.

Babuh had not cummed yet, so he moved from her mouth to behind her. In approximative Greek, he ordered her to kneel down on all fours, which she obediently did. Then the black man knelt behind her and soon introduced his Ethiopian column of hardened flesh inside her and past her inner folds, then his massive hands grabbed her slender waist and he took his turn!

She whimpered loudly, her head sliding on the tiled floor and offering a protruding butt for all to watch as the open-mouthed African man took her from behind, holding nothing back and giving repeated shock waves to her entire figure, looking like a black bull fertilizing a white heifer!

Babuh lasted the longest of us. I had ample time to watch her many charms as he kept this up. Then finally, he increased his tempo to a raging frenzy and suddenly filled the room with a thundering growl as his manhood erupted and spewed his seed inside the moaning lady.

« Last Edit: March 27, 2022, 10:09:49 PM by HistBuff »

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Re: KOTALOS IN THE ARENA --- THE CURSED SON (incest, foot fetish)
« Reply #5 on: March 27, 2022, 10:08:40 PM »
CHAPTER 4 --- Fortuna juvenes juvat!

I couldn't possibly get enough of that Greek woman! She was so gorgeous with her long mysterious black hair and pale skin! She had such noble features on her spotless face! Splattering that noble face with cum would be ungodly! What's more, she spoke the same language as I, just as well as if I had learned it from her!

Fucking her had felt like fucking the virgin goddess Pallas Athena! Crushing boundaries and violating her sanctum! Last summer when I was part of a small army of revolted slaves sacking villas, I had once entertained my companions with a tale I invented; it was about the primordial titans revolting against Olympus and somehow managing to capture the sky city and throw Jupiter and the other gods in jail --- they raped Juno and Venus as a matter of course, but they also gang-deflowered Pallas and also Diana, who tried to take her own life after her brutal ordeal, but couldn't do it because she was an immortal goddess.

I felt the same elation as the titans raping Pallas Athena as I forcefully exploded inside this Greek singer who was twice my age, violating all social rules as I gave her my young sperm!

I was presently pouring wine on her lovely breasts and licking it all off. It was good wine; not as rich-good as Falerna, but better than your typical table wine; the type of wine a rich man drinks on ordinary days.

"Melanos oinos! Leukoi mastoi!" (Dark wine! White breasts!) I said in Greek as I poured and licked wine off her brownish nipple and surrounding pale-silky knoll of soft splendour.

Letting my companion enjoy her upper charms too, I went down, removed her last sandal and then started licking her feet after wetting them with wine. Some men are indifferent to women's feet, but for me it was the gods's delight and it quickly made me hard again.

All of us being young and resourceful men, we all had more spunk to give her. She knelt down, in her divine naked beauty, and gave us fellatio, one after the other, gladly accepting our youthful flows of cum beautifully filling her delicate mouth and splattering her pure-white face! I took immense pleasure in simply caressing her night-black hair as she pleasured me and properly massaged my throbbing dick with her scealed mouth and her all-feminine hand grip! Each shot of my cum flying and landing on her face was an immensely liberating relief.

It was a delightful day and a welcome break from my usual harsh training days. I was so much into it that I even forgot my sore muscles for the time it lasted. All too short.

She got dressed again with the change of clothes her servant slave had brought with her and gave us pieces of her torn dress as keepsakes. She smiled as I helped her put on back her fancy sandals. I worshipped her feet! Then she left, leaving us with her lingering scent and the already-ageing souvenir of a wonderful morning.

I was later told that she had done this countless times over the years. She sang the Hymn to Nemesis high above the arena, then she watched the fights from the governor's gallery, quite close to the action, and whenever she felt attracted to one or more gladiators, she'd come to the school a few days later and let him or them use her! She greatly enjoyed this. She always began by resisting and shouting "No!" but it was part of her arousal game.

Being an experienced rapist myself, I noticed the difference from the get-go. But it was fun all the same! And there was more good news! She would come back later and visit each of us individually in our cell to spend the night! We were not told when, but she was coming.

Quam dulce! (How sweet!)

I greatly relished this prospect of having this mysterious, beautiful and supposedly off-limits woman all to myself for one full night! I was going to enjoy her from head to foot! And give her something to remember me by. The gods were being good to me. Fortuna juvenes juvat! (Lady Fortune likes young men!)

« Last Edit: March 27, 2022, 10:16:19 PM by HistBuff »

Offline vile8r

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Re: KOTALOS IN THE ARENA --- THE CURSED SON (incest, foot fetish)
« Reply #6 on: March 28, 2022, 09:35:11 AM »
It's great that you have done a sequel to the adventures of Kotalos the Greek slave turned gladiator! As usual, plenty of graphic imagery to entertain and titillate!
I could rape your pussy, but I'd be in and out in a few minutes. So I choose to rape your mind, and I'll be inside you forever!

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Re: KOTALOS IN THE ARENA --- THE CURSED SON (incest, foot fetish)
« Reply #7 on: March 29, 2022, 05:19:14 PM »
It's great that you have done a sequel to the adventures of Kotalos the Greek slave turned gladiator! As usual, plenty of graphic imagery to entertain and titillate!

Thanks vile8r! Glad you're enjoying it. This one is around the themes of foot fetish and incest. I have a pretty good idea of how Kotalos's story will end, but he still has a few years as a gladiator. To avoid making this tale overly long, I've decided to make it into a series of relatively short stories, each one centering around something, a theme, a character, etc.

In each story, of course, someone is getting raped for real, be it inside or outside the arena. I will explore what opportunities for sex or rape a fighting gladiator could have. Most obvious one --- gladiators were allowed to marry! A simple scenario would be that a handful of gladiators try to stage a revolt, but they get caught and condemned as criminals, their first sentence being to watch their cute young wives getting gang-raped by gladiators, who remained loyal, or soldiers, or even by condemned criminals to further their humiliation!

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Re: KOTALOS IN THE ARENA --- THE CURSED SON (incest, foot fetish)
« Reply #8 on: April 02, 2022, 09:04:01 PM »
CHAPTER 5 --- Stones, And Good Bread For Sweet Dreams

This unexpected fuck party with this gorgeous Greek singer was a sweet oasis of erotic splendour in the midst of hell! It was mid-afternoon when she left and Pisistratos, the physical trainor -- the paidotribès --- came to fetch me along with other companions for the daily rendez-vous with the Sisyphus Stones. This was in one of the numerous inner courts of this vast school, which someone could get lost in.

This inner court was a square, 20 paces each side, and it only contained lined up stones of different sizes that weighed anywhere between 30 pounds and 450 pounds or more. There was one mythical stone, with the word HERAKLES engraved on it and its weight was indefinite and certainly greater than 500 pounds. Only two gladiators had ever lifted it, and their names were engraved on it too. I had a shock when I recognized one of these names...

Euturpalus! Now I understood better the reactions of the more senior gladiators when I had told them I had spent time with him earlier this year. They were sad when I told them he had perished in the final battle where the revolted slaves were all slaughtered or captured. I didn't want to tell them I had myself revolted, so I pretended I had been only a slave prisoner. But they read between the lines. As I told them this fat lie, I thought of when Claudia, the wife of my ex-master, was gang-raped along with Cynthia and Lavinia, the twin daughters who would go down from noble maid to sex slave.

All in all, I had no intention of revolting again, and I was sure my closest companions felt that way too. After all, we had had a very close encounter with death and only sheer luck had saved us. Sheer luck in the form of a greedy decurion who had decided to mutiny and take us all the way south to Rhegium and sell us instead of putting us to the cross in Capua like his decurion-in-command had been ordered to.

"Stop day-dreaming Kotalos! Start lifting stones, from the smallest ones and then you move up in weight until I tell you to stop. And remember to take at least 10 deep breaths before moving up to the next stone!"

"Yes, O paidotriba!" I answered in Greek to my Greek instructor.

I started off with the 30, 40, 50 and 70 pounder stones, which were all easy enough to lift. I was also instructed to lift the stone all the way up to my shoulder and press it overhead, until I had to struggle with the stone. My shoulders and arms weren't that strong and I began to struggle with the 85-pound stone. I kept going, only lifting the stone up on my shoulder with 100, 110, 125 and 145 pounds, and then I began to struggle again, so I kept going up in weight by only lifting the round stones up in my lap. I lifted five other stones in this way... 160, 175, 190, 206 and 223 pounds.

"Satis Kotalos!" the paidotribès shouted, noticing I was beginning to struggle slightly. I could have gone up and manage at least 250, but I now knew better than arguing with the paidotribès! He instructed me to go down to the 60-pound stone and lift it all the way up from the ground to fully locked overhead. I was to do this 20 consecutive times while taking a good ten deep breaths between each lift. He knew what he was doing; it was pretty obvious my shoulders and arms needed work.

We did this every day. It was only the fourth day I was training with the stones and I was already noticing a difference. I had seen experienced gladiators --- the taller, stronger ones --- making it effortlessly all the way up to 380 or 400 pounds and stopping there. It looked like they very seldom allowed themselves to come close to their limits. One of them told me that the weights you can lift with ease will simply go up with time and there is very seldom any need to struggle with weights, as it would needlessly sap energy for the more important sword drills and practice fights.

Practice fights were a lot less damaging and fierce than people would think. Each of us costed a fortune to our lanista, who had to feed, lodge and train us, and training injuries was the last thing he wanted. We always practiced with blunt wooden versions of our arena weapons that were specifically made to be twice as heavy as their real counterparts. If a gladiator needlessly struck too hard and hurt his partner, he was severely punished! The lanista wanted us to be crisp and strong for our next fight! Not hurt and tired. He was training us for the upcoming Saturnalia. At least most of us.

All Saturnia-related preparations were shrouded in mystery. I knew that Pontia was probably going to fight some female gladiatrix from our arch-rival school in Pompei, but that was it. She lived and trained with her fellow gladiatrices in a separate part of the school; it looked like the time I had seen her in the arena after she killed her rapist opponent would be my last look on her naked body in a very long time. I was starting to fancy her and dream of her as a more and more inaccessible semi-goddess.

After the stone training, I had my usual cena --- a hefty piece of bread with eggs, lots of cheese and wholesome fruits and vegetables. Meat was rare; it was only for special occasions and the night before a fight.

Aria served my meal. She came at me smiling as she carried my food on a tray; she smelled really good too. She had somehow managed to get some of her pine-sap perfume; when I sat and she stood right near me in the refectorium and smiled at me, I was overwhelmed with her lovely scent.

"Dulcissima'st, Aria..." (You're so very sweet, Aria...) I whispered, only for her to hear. She smiled and giggled playfully, telling me to eat my bread while it was all crisp and warm from the oven, in her delightful Samnite Latin, the same as Pontia's.

Moments later, as I ate, I heard Aria emitting a distressed whimper. One of the senior gladiators had seized her dainty waist and he was presently forced-kissing her.

"Memento cubiculo mihi eris, Aria!" (Remember that you'll be for me in my sleeping room, Aria!)

Rhygus was indeed fighting in three days. Some rich patron had rented his services for a special event he was giving for his daughter's 18th birthday. As it was his privilege before a fight, he had chosen a girl to share his bed in what could be his last night. Dying on such an assignment was rare, as the patron then had to buy off the fighter at something like 50 times the rental rate, but it wasn't unheard of.

I had heard that when the patron was unable to pay for one reason or another, he could pay off the debt in kind by giving off slaves of his own or perhaps by "renting" his daughter if she was beautiful and old enough for this, or his wife if she was pretty enough; then the wife or daughter would be sent to the gladiatorial school and fucked by the lanista himself, and then repeatedly gang-fucked by gladiators for a set amount of time, usually three or four weeks.

Rhygus looked straight at me, his dark-brown Parthian features clearly stating "she's mine". Aria clearly disliked him, for he was rude and mean, but she had no choice; in two days, she would spend the night with this pig.

Pontia being suddenly unavailable, not only for sex, but also simply for companionship, I felt immensely lonely and looked forward to the Greek singer's eventual nightly visit in my lonely cell. However, my trusty companions made another special request calling on my aede's talents.

I sang them something I knew by heart, from a long epic poem written more than 70 years before by Ovid. It had 12 books and was called the Metamorphoses. I sang the part, at the end of Book IV, where the hero Perseus sees the beautiful Andromeda and saves her from the sea monster she was being sacrificed to by being chained to a seaside rock...

I sang, accompanied by lyra players. Very few in my public actually spoke my own Roman Latin, but all of them understood its wonderful written form. I sang as the lyrae played...

Illic inmeritam maternae pendere linguae    (Here, she was suspended by chains, an innocent paying for her mother's words,)
Andromedan poenas iniustus iusserat Ammon. (Andromeda, whose sentence had been ordered by unfair Ammon.)

Quam simul ad duras religatam bracchia cautes  (As soon as he saw her hanging by her arms against the savage stony cliff,)
vidit Abantiades (nisi quod levis aura capillos     (the descendant of Abas contemplated her --- her hair lightly moved by the wind)
moverat et tepido manabant lumina fletu,          (and her warm tears making her eyes all wet and bright)
marmoreum ratus esset opus), trahit inscius ignes (indicating she was not the white-marble statue she appeared to be.)
et stupet et visae correptus imagine formae          (He stopped mid-flight, his heart stolen by this apparition,)
paene suas quatere est oblitus in aere pennas.      (so stunned that he almost forgot to flap the Mercury-wings he was wearing.)
Et nondum memoratis omnibus unda (And, heard by all those who were not yet renowned, the sea resonated)
insonuit, veniensque inmenso belua ponto   (with clamors, as the sea monster approached on the wide seascape,)
inminet et latum sub pectore possidet aequor. (its head visible as it swam with the surf making way under its breast.)
Vulnere laesa gravi modo se sublimis in auras    (the cruelly wounded beast now rose up in the air,)
attollit, modo subdit aquis, modo more ferocis  (then plunged back into the sea, moving about like a fierce boar)
versat apri, quem turba canum circumsona terret. (when it's surrounded by a pack of dogs and terrified by their barking.)
Ille avidos morsus velocibus effugit alis       (The hero keeps away from the beast's desperate bites with his fast wings)
quaque patet, nunc terga cavis super obsita conchis,     (and he hits all he can, now the beast's oyster-shell-covered back,)
nunc laterum costas, nunc qua tenuissima cauda   (now its flanks, now its slender and supple thinning tail)
desinit in piscem, falcato vulnerat ense.        (as it splashes into the salty water, using his falchion.)
Belua puniceo mixtos cum sanguine fluctus      (The beast's wine-red blood mixes with the sea)
ore vomit: maduere graves adspergine pennae. (as it vomits gore: but the hero's wings are now heavy with water!)
Nec bibulis ultra Perseus talaribus ausus         (No longer trusting his heel-fixed wings, for they are too wet, Perseus)
credere, conspexit scopulum, qui vertice summo  (spots a rock pillar that stands high above the rolling surf,)
stantibus exstat aquis, operitur ab aequore moto. (while its base lies under the ever-moving waves.)
Nixus eo rupisque tenens iuga prima sinistra    (Taking foot on that rock, his left hand holding on to the cliff,)
ter quater exegit repetita per ilia ferrum.        (he strikes three or four times with his sword into the beast's flanks.)


From the way Aria kept looking at me as I sang, I could tell she would have loved to be Andromeda and I, Perseus saving and then marrying her. Then our fat, well-fed lanista wrapped his flaccid arm around the girl who was half his age and took her with him for the night. My singing was rewarded with good honeyed wine.


When I retired for the night, I found a nice little statue of Neptune. The slave we had sent off to buy things for us had come back. The crowd had thrown some coins on the arena sand after my fight, and I had decided to have this simulacrum of my protecting god, who was also Pontia's grandfather. Neptune, all-mighty god of the sea and coastal lands, had raped a Samnite shepherd girl a few decades ago. It was said that Pontia had the same brown hair and bright skin as her grandmother; she had seamist-grey eyes.

I fell asleep thinking of Pontia. As I lapsed into dreamland, her image materialized in front of my eyes. This was on that day the Roman Legion had caught up with us and pinned us between them and the Praetorian cohort sent from Rome, in a mountain pass on the northern reaches of Campania...

"Enjoying the show, Kotalos?"

This was the alto voice of a woman. I was flabbergasted from hearing it since I couldn't think of any woman on that field who would know me by name while not being busy getting savagely gang-raped by the victorious Romans.

I looked to my right and there stood Pontia... Of course! I had been so enthralled watching Lavinia's gang-rape and masturbating that I had forgotten the she-decurion whom I had surrendered to.

She stood right near me, about a half head shorter than my average male height; her fascinating green-eyed gaze plunging into my soul! She was fascinating. Her features were both soft and battle hardened and the stylish way she wore her mass of long hair all to one side gave her some elusive cascading air of mystery.

She wasn't alone. There were several dozens of women; some of them wore outfits and weapons similar to hers while the majority wore the same clothes and cavalry weapons as the men. They were all together in a compact group, all heavily armed, and for good reason; there were now a great many Roman soldiers on that field and these men might get ideas about using the female elements of the Samnite auxiliary cavalry corps!

What's more, the olive-skinned officer was some distance away and now stood next to the General who had addressed us earlier. It was pretty clear that no legionaries in their right mind would even think of fighting these women to capture them under the very nose of the Samnite commander and their General!

Pontia looked straight into me with her intense sea-mist eyes, conveying in me a sense of terrible, warlike beauty. She presently spoke, wearing a slight grin on her fascinating face...
"We, Samnite, have been ruled by Rome for 400 years, but we have kept some of our ways, which are different from Rome's. Roman Legions are male-only, while there are some of us women in the Samnite ranks, as you've noticed."

Then she smiled with clear amusement lighting her eyes, which sparkled intensely with some mysterious sea-grey against her tanned skin. She added...
"You and your other companions who are prisoners to Samnites must not fear to be raped by our men like the Romans are currently doing to your less-fortunate companions. Samnites hold male-on-male sexual intercourse with the utmost contempt; a Samnite man who rapes a male prisoner can be put to death! Such a rape can only be performed symbolically by a woman using a special instrument, as a way of punishment only.

"But for us, women, there's a well-established tradition in our tribe! The male prisoners belong to us for the first day! And you belong to ME, Kotalos!"

On that, her eyes always into mine, she closed the distance between our faces and kissed me. Then I felt her hands on my cum-wet dick! I hadn't foreseen this! I was in fact a little bit annoyed, as I wanted to keep watching Lavinia's ordeal and at the same time I was mentally preparing to receive my death sentence tomorrow...

After a very long kiss, she stepped back and took my leash from the guard, who seemed to find this perfectly normal.

The group of women walked us some distance. Legionaries were already setting a camp for the night, even though the sun was still on its way up to noon. We passed what obviously looked like the General's tent; it was guarded by two gigantic soldiers wearing each a lion's skin over their helmets and shoulders. They really looked like guys you absolutely wouldn't mess with.

The 50-odd women led us, their male war booty, to a more secluded spot. They were all commenting in their Samnite dialect; I could make out most of it, since it had direct similarities to my Latin...

"Quom deco ille! Et smira ad istom! Hoc die fiesta serpentina no'os erit!" (How handsome this one! And look at that one! This day, party snake-type for us will be!)
"Pontia, tu fortuna! Sin-par pulchrom custodi tui'st!" (Pontia, you're lucky! Without peer beautiful prisoner-of-you-is!)

They were commenting on how handsome we were. They were about to rape us for their own sport! Pontia was leading me. I watched her from behind as she walked, and truth be told, I wasn't all that much against the idea of Pontia raping me! But my mind became grim again; I was no doubt getting crucified in a couple of days!

They took us to a clearing behind a thicket of trees. I noticed the General and the cavalry commander were still there, standing on the top of a mound and watching the scene from afar. Many officers and soldiers joined them to watch, but all kept a respectful distance, and not a single catcall was heard. It was all done very calmly, almost like some religious ritual.

Then the female Samnite warriors ordered us to lay down on our back.

I let Pontia take my loincloth off my hips. She immediately knelt down in front of me and started stimulating my dick with her strong, yet small girly hands. Then she took my swelling cock inside her mouth and began to give me a very fine fellatio! Since my hands were still tied-up together in front of me, I rested them on her bobbing head and began stroking her shiny brown hair...

She had stopped and scolded me for doing something she didn't ask for, showing me that I was her plaything and not the other way around. This was quite humiliating, but I remembered the Silver Phallus and had no intention of feeling THAT inside my ass! So I kept my hands high and off her lovely head as she resumed the fellatio.

She was really good at it! Before long, do what I will, my dick was gloriously stiff and horizontal with its nice bowlike curve upward, in all its veiny swollen state of fuck-readiness!

Pontia looked up at me with her fascinating eyes of sea-mist splendour as her sealed mouth kept stroking the full length of my manhood, coating my Greek meat with her Samnite saliva.

Looking around me, I noticed that my 30 companions were either similarly pleasured or tied-up to planted stakes while lying on the ground as their dominatrices got busy doing whatever they had in mind... Since there were more women that us, some unfortunate captive men had two Samnite women on them.

At this point, my own dominatrix stopped sucking my cock and kissed it...
"All right! My big Greek boy is ready to go!" she said with lights of amusement accentuating even more the contrast between her eyes and her military-hardened face! I had to confess there were fates far worse than being raped by Pontia!

I obediently let Pontia move me down on the ground. She quickly planted stakes into the ground and attached each of my limbs to them. Then she laid right beside me and kissed me; I loved how her short nose rubbed against mine as she did so! She smiled and said...
"Kotalos, you are going to be executed! But you were fortunate enough to be captured by us Samnites and as such, I will take your manhood inside me, according to our sacred traditions!"

"In other words, Kotalos, you are my slave for today!" she said with a smile before kissing me again.

Then, right in front of my unbelieving eyes, Pontia unbuckled and removed her wide waistband. Then she took her clothes off, very quickly and mundanely, just like she would do before going to sleep. All the other Samnite women were also getting naked in front of their male prisoners.

I couldn't believe how gorgeous she was!

"PONTIA! YOU'RE... YOU'RE..." I blurted.

"NO WORDS! SILENCE!" she scolded me again with ire in her voice. I was reminded I couldn't do anything of my own will. She was the one in command! So I enjoyed in silence and awe the mind-boggling sight of her naked figure!

In the nude under the Italian sun, Pontia looked strikingly beautiful. Her loosened hair was a magnificent feature that highlighted the richness of her tanned complexion. Her body was athletic, a sign of her hard military life. No excess fat there! Yet her alluring curves were nonetheless soft and feminine!

She was gorgeous from head to toe. I could see that all the better as she knelt at my side. Her breasts were especially remarkable for their firmness, their perfect shape and size, neither too small nor large, and her coin-size areolas sat subtle in their pinkish tan atop her perky orbs with her small round nipples amid them.

My erection had remained mast-perfect as I contemplated Pontia's beauty; all the charms that had been lurking under her garments and weapons were suddenly displayed in their daylight glory!

I wanted to touch her, and most of all to cup and suck her wonderfully round breasts, but I couldn't make a move, tied up as I was to the stakes on the ground. I could only watch her as she straddled me. I noticed her cunt was covered in its middle by a delicate strip of dark silky hair as she took my dick and pushed my cock against her entrance, with her coral-coloured labia visible.

"Now, Pontia will make you hers! O Kotalos!"

I heard other Samnite women tell the same thing to other captives while they took their dicks inside their womanhoods, also speaking of themselves in the third person. It was clearly part of the ritual.

Suddenly I was inside her!

My dick was very tightly gripped by Pontia's athletic vagina walls as she began girating her pelvis and gently moving herself up and down...
"HMMMMMM... PONTIA likes your warmth! She's lucky with her prisoner!... Mhhhhhh... hhhhhh... Oooohhhhh, oooohhhh, ooohhhhhh..."

Then she spoke no more. She began moaning and groaning as she picked up her pace, her perky breasts jiggling up and down in their full roundness, bouncing up and down... tantalizing me as I couldn't move my hands up to grab and press them!

But her vagina was so very tight and active as she kept drilling herself on me! I felt her womanhood fiercely gripping and massaging my dick, easily maintaining my erection in its raging state! I felt myself precumming inside her!

She was now bouncing herself on my impaling dick and tilting her head backwards, moaning loud and letting herself go wild! Doing this, her chest was propped up and pushed her firm breasts outwards, making her fleshy orbs look even fuller and all the more erotic under the full-fledged daylight!

I wanted so badly to cup her divine breasts that I vainly strained my arms against the stakes my wrists were tied to; it was so ungodly tantalizing and frustrating! This kept reminding me that I was hers and NOT the other way around!

Pontia was now panting, sweating and whimpering in a peculiar string of alto-pitched sounds as she was inching closer to her climax, but I was very much afraid I would hit mine before her, and what then? Was she going to ass-rape me with that Silver monster dick as punishment?

I tried to wander elsewhere in my mind, trying to think of when I gave food to my horse, or anything else that had no connection with sexual encounters. But my mind kept coming back to the big WHAT IF scene! WHAT IF we had won? We would have made them all prisoners and we would have been the dominators! Pontia would have been the one on the ground, stripped naked out of all her weapons and garments, and whimpering under our countless dicks!

I couldn't keep myself from picturing a bunch of black African slaves gang-raping Pontia and taking their turns in savagely pounding her with their big brown pillars of manhood! Dumping their massive loads inside her! And then coming back and taking their second turns on her, this time enjoying her on all fours!

Pontia was hammering herself down against my hard shaft, repeatedly and always more urgently as she kept uttering her peculiar alto-voiced whimpers, her jiggling breasts now a tempest of moving flesh as her hair was a magnificent dark-chestnut mass of ever moving storm waves! She was divinely beautiful and so fiercely feminine in her lovemaking!

My dick kept repeatedly impaling her while I ran my fantasy where she was getting "Africanized" by our black-skinned victorious fighters! As she kept bouncing on my lap, I contemplated her magnificent breasts moving in their wild motion, all in their naked glory! I then thought back of when she was fully clad, her breast shapes well covered by her wine-red tunica; one picture naked; the other one fully clothed; two opposite sides of the same coin!

My dick... Deep inside Pontia... She bounces on me... Out of control!... Her moving breasts... Her head of hair a tempest of wild sea motions! She's a nereide! She's a syren, a daughter of Neptune! Forcing me to fuck before killing me and cooking my flesh like a caught fish! She's... NNNNNNNNNNNNNRRRRRRRRRR AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRR RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRHHHH HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!

My ejaculation came with no warning, long and hot-jizzed! I powerfully erupted inside my dominatrix, who unfortunately didn't sound like she had time to reach her own climax.

I was in trouble... The Silver Phallus was ever present in my mind...

Pontia was panting and kept gyrating her pelvis and wiggling on top of me. She finally leaned over and kissed me. It was obvious that she wasn't able to hide the fact that she greatly liked me. There were tears in her eyes. She whispered to me...
"Now, Kotalos, you will pleasure me! I've given you a strong cum! Now it's your turn to make me hit the sky! AND I ORDER IT!"

Thus, Pontia straddled me, but this time she was over my chest and her cunt, dripping with my own cum, was right at my mouth. I had no choice. I wasn't all eager to taste my own cum, but I was a LOT less eager to get acquainted with the Silver Phallus!

All of a sudden, I heard soul-piercing screams of pain uttered by a male voice. I didn't see anything since Pontia's cunt completely covered my face like a wet mask of sperm and female juice, but I didn't need to be told what was happening --- One of my companions had performed poorly and was being punished with a most painful ass-rape using the dreadful instrument!

Thus, I got busy and gave Pontia the very best cunnilingus I was capable of. Her moans and alto-voiced whimpers told me I was probably doing an acceptable job. I ignored the foul taste of my cum and kept at it, darting my tongue and very gently stroking it against her clit.

Before stroking harder, I listened to Pontia's voice and judged that going very gently was the right way for her. Thankfully, I had occasion to acquire some experience during the night I spent with Claudia --- the very night before she died.

This thought gave me the surreal impression I was now pleasuring a ghost.

I kept at it, ignoring the ass-raped man's pitiful cries of pain, and stroking Pontia's clit with my insistent, yet devilishly gentle tongue strokes, until I felt her body twitching and she let out a long-enduring moan with her warm alto voice that was so wonderful to hear!


As a reward for my good performance, Pontia went down on me again and sucked my dick, and kept working my shaft with her tightly sealed lips, running her gentle tongue along the full length, until I exploded my load inside her mouth and she swallowed it all!

« Last Edit: April 04, 2022, 01:35:43 AM by HistBuff »

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Re: KOTALOS IN THE ARENA --- THE CURSED SON (incest, foot fetish)
« Reply #9 on: April 03, 2022, 05:39:42 AM »
Chapter 6 --- The Jinn

I woke up from my sweet erotic dream with fresh cum all over my lap. The nights were getting much cooler, almost cold, as time was moving toward the Ides of October. The night was very quiet and dark. The cockcrow was still a long way.

I heard some faint singing from outside my cell. A lovely voice. A girl, perhaps even a child. This was odd, as there wasn't any child in the school. My cell was close to the entrance of a centuries-old tunnel that led to the arena; this tunnel was said to be haunted. In front of the others, I had said I didn't fear spirits nor ghosts, but now in my room, all by myself, there was no way I would have ventured beyond my door, even if it hadn't been locked.

I got up to use the chamber pot, and then I snugly tucked myself under my trusty wool blanket and fell asleep again, thanking the gods for giving me the good fortune to be sleeping under a roof every night, even though my cell was only four per ten feet.

The Rhegium cockcrow woke me up for breakfast, followed with another hard day of gladiatorial training.

Unlike soldiers, we are not trained to fight and move in formation. We have a lot more time to develop and hone our sword and shield skills. Gladiators are not only better trained with weapons; they are also trained to be as strong as they can be. A great many fights involve grappling, and strength is never a liability. This was why they had us lifting stones every day and training with twice-heavy wooden replicas of our weapons.

Contrary to popular belief, muscle does not slow down a fighter. The myrmillos and other heavier fighters such as the hoplomachus -- a gladiator wielding a spear in armour similar to the ancient Greeks -- usually had some layer of fat covering their muscles, as it was believed it made them more injury resilient.

I was a fast fighter. Speed was my greatest asset; and deception, as I could fight left-handed as well as right-handed. They had begun training me as a thraex. Since I was very new, my ambidextry was my secret weapon. They were preparing me to face a deadly retiarius, an undefeated fighter whose name was unknown. He was called the Jinni. This was a word that referred to some spirits of the desert in the province of Syria, where this mysterious fighter had been captured into slavery. He was said to be from Palmyra.

He had fought twelve times without being even close to defeated. Each of his fights fetched titanic fortunes! He obviously loved the arena, for he had twice refused his offered freedom. I was very surprised to be pitted against such a formidable opponent, and very much scared, but it was also a formidable opportunity. For one reason or another, Brixus thought I was the only fighter they had who could win an upset victory against this Jinni, whose public in Pompei also nicknamed him "the Flame of Vesuvius" since he was both wicked fast and deadly.

Lucius Africanus was no longer training me directly. We were at the end of September and I would fight in the Saturnalia in three months. They were now having me sparring every day alone against two retiarii who wielded blunt trident replicae. They would take me through repetitive drills in which I was shown how to dodge, deflect and defend against this pole weapon, which had the advantage of much greater reach than my short falchion. But the retiarius had no shield, and if the sword-armed fighter got past his trident and fishnet, then the retiarius was in trouble! These fights of trident vs. sword had been a classic since the divine Julius Caesar and Pompeius Magnus.

Both of these retiarius were fast, very fast in fact, but not nearly as fast as the Jinn, as they told me; this was why the lanista had me sparring with them both at once. I got hit all the time! Thank Neptune the tridents were blunt wood! But after the first couple of days, I was making improvements and getting used to having these trident heads constantly thrusted and swung at me. I was beginning to anticipate their striking patterns more and more. I was starting to counter-attack.

When I sparred, my head was empty of thoughts. I was somewhere else; I was threading the sand of an eternal present. Always in the action. A fighter who lives elsewhere than in the present will soon be a dead fighter. This sparring was exhausting. We took frequent breaks.

An older slave, the most trusted slave in the house, carried watered vinegar for us to quench our thirst, along with fresh grapes and pomegranates. We trained in one of the innermost sandy rooms; no one except a select few were allowed in. The rival lanista in Pompei must not know anything about which fighter my lanista was training for the Jinn.

The prandium, our mid-day meal, was always a very welcome sight. Our fatigued bodies needed the bread, the eggs and the porridge; and we were given excellent watered wine and pomegranate juice. They were instructing me to eat an extra piece of cheese and bread every meal, as they wanted me to gain some muscle and strength, especially in the legs and shoulders. As of now, I felt my legs sore and fatigued, but the retiarii told me there was nothing to be worried about; I'd get used to this fierce training regimen and by that time I'd be faster than ever!

My long training days ended with a tour in the court of Sisyphus and its heavy stones. By the end of that week, I was becoming intimate with all the nooks and crannies of every stone from the 30-pound ball-shaped toy to the 256-pound marble the paidotribès was beginning to allow me to lift. I was quickly getting stronger as my youthful body adapted to the new regimen.

Every night, I prayed Neptune to inspire me and help me find the way to the inner strength that lay hidden within me. Every night, I dreamed of Pontia... or Aria. My heart was torn between these two; Pontia was so intensely feminine and full of energy and strength, but Aria was so sweet and girly! Most of all, she was an honest girl. Both of them would make a good wife. But a gladiator could not marry a gladiatrix. Would I wait for both of us to win our freedoms? What then? But Aria...

Aria... I often relived the post-battle gang-rape where I first saw her. She had been the girl-companion of a soldier our mutinous decurion had killed when he and his men overran an outpost...

Pontia was now to share the whore duties with two captives instead of one.

The new female prisoners were gorgeous!

I could feel the men were impatient to get far enough and then reach a nice quiet spot where they would AT LAST get acquainted with them and their lovely charms! Maybe we'd get some too!

We finally reached a beautiful clearing where bees were pollinating flowers on the banks of a quiet rivulet, where our horses quenched their thirst.

There was a blonde girl and a raven-haired one.

The dark-haired girl immediately won my heart! She reminded me of Lavinia, but she had unique, lovely features with large round eyes, at present filled with both fear and rage.

Three jeering men grabbed her.

"What's your name, pretty one?"

She spat in one man's face. The man sharply slapped her.

"I'll call her Raven-Fuck! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!..."

"IT'S ARIA!" the girl said with rageing defiance.

She sounded so innocent. She desperately looked toward her golden-hair companion, who looked somewhat older, perhaps Pontia's age.

"Help me Gaella! Help me..." Aria feebly called for help that wouldn't come as her captors made fun of her.

This Gaella was a little too busy to give any help, as Tiberius and a pack of no less than five Samnite men were closing in on her!

The black-haired teenage girl tried to wrestle herself out of the men's clutches.

"She's as slippery as an eel!" one man commented.

"She smells like fresh sweat, salt and pine-sap perfume!" another one remarked as she ragingly cursed at them as she desperately tried to break free, her long black hair whipping the air like the girly spell of a soon-to-be raped wench!

She could writhe as much as she wanted, she didn't have a chance! She was to be used as a piece of war booty! I went hard from knowing I was about to witness the gang-rape and defilement of this petite she-warrior!

With her hands tied-up behind her back, she couldn't do anything and had to endure the men groping her small firm breasts through her clothes...

"I love these girly tits!"

"Hey honey! I love your hair!"

"I'm going to look into her lovely face when I'll give her my cum!"

As she wriggled and struggled in vain, she came very near to where I was standing. I blessed Zeus for giving me the chance to see her from so close!

Indeed! She was so feminine, delicate and mysterious! Her face was both youthful and amazingly delicate. This teenage girl had the most fascinating facial features I had ever seen!

I greatly enjoyed watching the terror in her forest-green eyes as she heard the men telling her how they were all going to mount her like horny stallions! Too bad her boyfriend was just claimed by Orcus! But they were here to comfort her!

She began bitterly crying while they laughed and kept groping and forced-kissing her. Her tears and air of despair intensified her youthful beauty. She would be so sweet to watch and hear being raped!

The other captured she-soldier, Gaella as Aria had called her, was also gorgeous, but with entirely different looks -- golden hair with fair skin and perky assets; there was something fiery in her whole being! Her face was amazingly pretty and her minimal clothes revealed a lot of her silky-fair skin... all a man needed to see to know what she looked like naked. Presently there's only savage anger in her face and murder in her eyes as she ragingly swings tries to free herself from the men in spite of her tied-up hands.

The jeering Samnites ask Gaella what was her favorite position for sex! She answered them with looks of anger and defiance, leaving me curious and wondering what her whimpers were going to sound like. I would soon have an answer!

Aria and Gaella were being played with like cats and mouses. They knew all too well that no one was coming to rescue them now! Their immediate future was predictable --- Many dicks and a heckload of cum inside them!

Aria cried. Gaella tried to intimidate her laughing captors with her looks of anger and raging defiance.

The bunch of men nearest to me were laughing and holding Aria, who was still desperately trying to weasel her slippery way out of their hands!

"YOU AIN'T GOING ANYWHERE!" they said, then one of them forced-kissed her, tasting her magic lips while taking care of not darting his tongue inside her biting mouth.

Then Aria looks at me, at the men all around her, silently begging them to let her go... NOT A CHANCE!

I am already hard, knowing what I'm about to witness from so close!

The leading man of the pack, which is Vitella, the second decurio, a tall dark-haired and wiry-strong soldier, intently looks into Aria's panicked eyes and then rushes at her, presses his hands on her small firm breasts through her brown tunic and forced-kisses her again while two men restrain her arms as she squirms and tries to kick her knee into Vitella's balls, but he's way too close and so much taller than her, so she can't really hurt him this way.


He slaps her hard, then he violently rips the top of her tunic apart into a sudden wide V of white nude torso, uncovering the whiteness and intimate pale pinkish of her tits and nipples, all perky, smooth and petite --- girly mounds of panicky flesh falling prey to men's eyes and hands under a dark-brown scarf that won't protect her...

"NOOOLLLEEEEEE!!!! ... AROOOOO!!!!... MIIIIITTTTEEEEEREE!!!... (then she starts sobbing and wailing)" (in Samnite speech, she's saying "Nolo! Oro! Mittete (me)! = Don't! I prey/beg you! Let me go!)


Vitella thus promises her she's going to have "a great time" and they all laugh and jeer at the crying girl, whose distressed face shows that she realizes she can't escape her fate, yet she screams and begs the men to stop as they powerfully pull down her leggings, pulling them with mad aggression all the way down her dainty lower legs and feet...

She's wearing some supple leather boots with nothing underneath. Vitella ragingly tears the laces and these shoes come right off along with her leggings, leaving only her bright-white legs and her intensely erotic feet! All bare and delicately feminine for the men's enjoyment!!!

My erection is raging and ready to burst! Aria's feet are so lovely! Barring Lavinia, Aria is the girliest girl I've ever seen! I start to masturbate along with the other prisoners.

Her midnight-black cunt hair, quite luxuriant, is dancing below the ragged ruins of her short tunic as she keeps wiggling and writhing in shrieking panic!

Vitella briefly stoops down and takes a whiff of her young cunt, firmly holding her unwilling hips...

"Ehh... What do ya know! The bitch is perfuming her cunt!... She smells like delicate fish mixed with some pine sap!"

The men laugh at their decurio's remark.

She must have had a lover among her fallen companions to perfume her privates like that...

Off to my right, Tiberius and the other bunch of winning Samnites are finished with tossing Gaella around and forced-kissing her.

The blonde defeated woman, all her limbs firmly restrained, keeps looking at them in raging defiance and spits in her future rapist's face as he uses his dagger to cut off the laces of her top! Tiberius then violently rips her small top apart and Gaella's pale-cream breasts blind us all with their overwhelming perkiness, making this usual forest clearing look surreal!

I love Gaella's breasts! Neither big nor small! Ideal for cupping and kneading! Her nipples and areolas are medium-sized and vanilla-pale like I've often seen on blondes. Tiberius and the nearest men assault these inviting orbs with hands and mouths, commenting on their luck! I deeply regret not being able to partake.

They then rip her lower garments off her gorgeous hips and reveal the most wonderful bush of golden cunt hair I've ever seen! Gaella's legs and her pale-cream whiteness are equally arousing! This sight feeds my erection as I masturbate, taking my time not to cum too soon.

I look back in front of me, where Vitella is about to take ownership of Aria!

Wasting no time, Vitella ragingly forces Aria's wriggling legs apart and takes immense delight in hearing her frantic wailing and begging as his mates cheer him on and one of them pats him on the back.

The decurion finally spears himself between Aria's fighting legs while other men take a firm hold of her ankles, seizing the oppurtunity to explore the scent and beauty of her feet by sniffing, kissing and licking them! Now I'm really hard! Too bad I can't get closer!

Looking intently into Aria's big eyes, Vitella knocks on her paradise door, his cock pushing on her wonderful dark cunt! OH MEHERCLE! SHE'S SO TIGHT! LIKE A VIRGIN! (MEHERCLE! = BY JOVE!)



Vitella slaps her hard again! His mates laugh out as she cries and whimpers, feebly begging him to spare her honour... NOT A CHANCE!

I see the decurion pushing his lap HARD into her! He struggles some, then suddenly he's in!


He lets out a wild roar of utter satisfaction and immediately begins to rape Aria!

The sobbing girl is utterly rocked amid the bunch of jeering men while Vitella pounds her in unrestrained abandon! He grunts and drills her with the savage intensity that only happens during post-battle rapes. The rush is insane! I know this from experience.

He grunts and pounds Aria, feeling her petite legs brushing his flanks as she sobs, repeating "NO! NO! NO! NO! NO!..." while her dark-hair and head keep aimlessly bobbing.

He comments on her virgin-like tightness, each stroke inside her filling him with visible delight and urging him to keep plowing her!


Vitella's copulating body is taken by an unstoppable grunting frenzy, as he stands and keep pounding Aria while contemplating her jiggling breasts, bouncing in a firmly moving show of quivering nipples amid the brown V-shape of her torn-open tunic! Her head keeps urgently bobbing along with her wildly waving dark hair as Vitella relentlessly takes his pleasure inside Aria.

I know Vitella will soon be finished. I am myself nearing the no-return point as I keep masturbating.

Vitella pounds Aria hard and good, like his life depended on how violently he's shaking her and making her small breasts jiggle and quiver under the men's elated gaze! His companions forced-kiss her, mock her, play with her wonderful hair of night, press down on her raped breasts... She's ours! Raping her feels so GOOD!

I can't get enough of her face! Her facial features are so fascinating, mysterious, and the effect is immensely intensified as her lovely features are distorted by pain, suffering, grief, shame... an unfathomable sense of defilement.

She shakes her head frantically from side to side, just as fast and repeatedly as Vitella's wild hip thrusts into her, expressing her refusal while being forced to receive his dick anyway, as he holds her moving thighs against his flanks.

She screams and begs while the rapes rages on, Vitella being a long laster...


Her screams and pleas are met with mockery from the men who eagerly wait their turns inside her...


Watching her moving head and breasts along with her small shaken frame in evergoing frenzied motion, I masturbate hard and soon, an impressive amount of cum shoots out of my pulsating dick! Too bad it's not inside her; it feels divine nonetheless!

Then, Vitella pushes hard inside Aria and utters a loud, long-sustained groan as his dick explodes!


The disabling power of this ungodly relief almost forces him down on his knees! I can tell this ejaculation was immensely powerful!

This Aria is really something! I hope I'll get a piece of her later if I get lucky.

In a daydream, I picture myself as a Samnite man married to such a young woman, who cooks me the Envy's dish with fresh viper meat. She serves it with black and green olives. And she's lovely! Many children are happening in this dreamed future.

To my right, I hear Tiberius scream...

He shoots his thick load of semen inside Gaella, then quickly exits her.

He's replaced by the man named Sorba, a tall, muscular man with long jet-black hair, olive skin and an equally black beard that makes him look fearsome and Hercules-like.

Sorba starts pounding Gaella as he triumphantly looks down on her bobbing face while she shouts raging threats at the men holding her in the exact same position as Aria --- horizontal torso with her bouncing breasts fully visible, her limbs restrained and her body rocked and shaken by one rapist after the other who savagely pounds her between her shapely legs!

Somewhere farther, Pontia is wailing and whimpering amid storms of grunts and jeers. Three men have decided to give her an extra session. They love their former decurion-in-command.

But Aria... I can't get enough of her charms as she's being defiled by her captors!
GOOD ZEUS! Raping Aria is so much fun! Even for men who merely look on.

The current rapist, Zama by his name, has dark-olive skin; he's almost as dark as an African man. I watch him feverishly inserting his huge olive-skinned dick inside Aria, who screams in intensified panic! He is extremely well-endowed and the extra size stretches the teenage girl and causes great pain.

"GOOD FOR YOU, SLUT! YOU'LL LEARN TO TAKE THESE BIG DARK DICKS INSIDE YOU!..." the man tells Aria, who glances sideways at me with utter despair and humiliation in her forest-green eyes...

Then the dark man takes his pleasure inside her!

He urgently fucks Aria, and I get to closely watch her bobbing head while other men keep smelling her pine-perfumed black hair and groping her teenage breasts! So close to her, I feel her immense pain and shame as her dark rapist is utterly dominating and debasing her, even forcing her to moan and coo amid her shamed whimpers!


Then Zama screams his bliss as he urgently shoots a most powerful discharge of gooey stickiness inside Aria!

Then a tall and strong cavalryman takes his own turn. He has the men quickly flipping Aria over because he wants to try her from behind!

Ignoring Aria's panicked protests and restraining her amid her despaired squirming and wriggling, they place her back on her feet and bend her over.

The tall man then ragingly tears away her tunic from her back, effectively uncovering her pristine-naked body! Aria's butt is almost like a boy's. She's so very slender and petite! But her curves are nonetheless feminine; they give her butt a pear-like shape that can only belong to a girl!

The petiteness of Aria's pure-white butt only intensifies the overall youthfull charms of her nude figure! Upon seeing Aria's wonderful butt, the man becomes crazy with lust and urgently inserts his dick inside her tight vagina!

He has Aria whimpering and protesting loud and shrill as he mercilessly rapes her doggystyle while standing and locking her tight butt in place between his gripping hands! My erection comes back to a new life as I watch the spectaculum.

Aria has no choice but scream, whimper and cooperate!

Aria keeps complaining loud in fast-paced repetition under the relentless barrage of dick thrusts! I masturbate and keep looking at Aria's hypnotizing butt as it keeps shaking and smacking in repeated spat! spat! spat! against the frienzied rapist! Soon enough, the rape is consummated and Aria's teenage-tight vagina is flooded with steaming cum!

The cockcrow took me out of my dream.

On that day, I get up with a new resolve in mind. I have just taken a very difficult decision I have been pondering over the last week. I ask Lucius, the head instructor, for a short word with the lanista. I have a simple request --- If I win this fight against the Jinn, I want to marry Aria and make her my beloved wife. Aren't gladiators allowed to marry slaves? I couldn't marry Pontia, as she was a gladiatrix now, but I indeed was in my right to wed Aria, who was exactly my age, and more importantly, being a gladiator's wife would pull her out of the sordid sex slavery she was stuck in.

The fat lanista said ITA SIT! (so be it) so fast and so unhesitantly that his voice and sardonic expression sent chills running down my spine; he seemed so sure I didn't have a chance! He merely wanted me to put up a good show and then get defeated and probably die; the Jinn was known to be so fast and deadly that most of his opponents died a very sudden death instead of being disarmed or otherwise defeated, like gladiators were usually trained to do --- we were trained to make a fight last and make a fight enthralling to watch.

The Jinni was an exception; he was tolerated because he fought rarely, perhaps once a year, and he always gave plenty of fight time. Lucius had seen him the most; he had even fought him in his days and was among the lucky few who lived to tell the tale. He told me the Jinni would give me a false sense of security, and then suddenly change his fighting style.

I had an idea, I told him. I will also come up with a surprise for him! I will begin the fight with a very short gladius hidden beneath my small thraex shield, and I'll fight as long as I can while hiding my final play, lulling him in a sense of security, and then, at a critical moment, I'll discard my shield and promptly switch my blade hands, suddenly attacking him left-handed with my falchion. It could work, but I'll have to practice this every day, and this information must never get to their lanista over there in Pompei. Besides, the Jinni was probably getting older; he must be 30 by now. And I was coming into my prime years.

"Yes, that could work. But if I can give you another word of advice Kotalos... Don't forget your silver coin... You may need it to pay for the Styx ferryman."

Lucius told me many other things about my future opponent, who hopefully would come into our Saturnalia main-event fight not knowing anything about me. There was another small advantage.

"Ille Jinni ferocissimus, citissimus astutissimusque!" (The famous Jinni is the fiercest, fastest and trickiest of them all!) he said, then added...
"At tu, ab Euturpalo doctus fuisti." (but you, you were taught by Euturpalus.)

He showed me the thraex equipment formerly worn by Dissector Lydon, who had earned his nickname by severing the arm of a treacherous opponent from Pompei who had used a poisoned blade that had somehow been smuggled into the arena, a rare feat in itself. He unfortunately had been cut and fell gravely ill and eventually died. This fight had taken place at the Saturnalia seven years ago, when Nero was still reigning.

Lydon, the "Wind from Chorintos" as this splendid Greek fighter was nicknamed here in Rhegium, had been forecasted to fight the Jinni and it was said he could have defeated him, for Lydon was perhaps even faster! This was probably why the wicked Pompeian lanista had smuggled the poisoned gladius. Now, I was to wear Lydon's silvery helmet, shield, arm sleeve and greaves, and use his razor-sharp falchion! At least, I would die with honour under the Saturnalian sun.


Note: If you like this aqua green colour, you can have it by manually typing "aqua" to replace the selected colour name between the brackets, e.g. [color=white] and there you go!
« Last Edit: April 03, 2022, 04:46:46 PM by HistBuff »

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Re: KOTALOS IN THE ARENA --- THE CURSED SON (incest, foot fetish)
« Reply #10 on: April 04, 2022, 05:34:13 PM »
Chapter 7 --- A Visitor For The Night

The Ides of October had come and gone; now time was marching into the countown of days toward the November Kalendas, id est the first day of November. Some people in Rhegium believed that the day before these Kalendas was a special night where all evil spirits had full sway, and the living could speak to the ghosts of ages past. Perhaps one day some nations would celebrate that day and make it a special occasion.

Here in Rhegium, women made special sweets with dried grapes and honey on some sort of biscuit bites, and they would treat children with them! They also placed candles on window sills to ward of evil spirits.

Aria told me she'd make some for me. She was having a hard time walking since her night with Rhygus, who had come back from his private fight more arrogant and obnoxious than ever. I was more than happy to be trained separately, as otherwise I would have had to suffer him and his two sidekicks and they would make life hard for me, taking advantage of my inexperience. Many senior gladiators deeply resented my quick rise and my success with girls. Truth be told, Greek men were often viewed in Italy as being more refined lovers; this halo effect had proven a huge advantage indeed for me in that department.

I held Aria's hand as she served my food, as usual, and told her she was so very sweet, as usual. She was the reason I had to beat this Jinni. My chances were less than good, but I was much younger and could prove even faster than this ageing legend. But if I did beat him, then I'd have to prove myself again afterwards, because everybody would say I couldn't have won if the Jinni had been in his prime.

Then it dawned on me. My lanista was using me to make big money-drawing fights because I had unique features, such as ambidextry. It was a two-edged sword. I would walk in as the underdog and if I lost honourably after fighting well, I was very likely to be spared, but the risk of dying from a wicked blow during the fight was greatly increased.

After this Jinni fight, especially if I won, I'd then be pitted against the best fighters. I was very unlikely to make it alive to my 25th birthday. Maybe I'd live to be 22 if I was lucky. Shouldn't I stage another gladiator revolt and just quickly get it done with? That would be very intense fun before an intensely painful death. The gods had allowed me to escape the cross; it was perhaps wiser not to anger them by scorning their gift. A man who ran from his fate was less of a man.

Gladiators aged rapidly in the arena where speed and power were a matter of life and death. Very few lived older than 25 and after that, these lucky few fighters started loosing their edge. Most took the wooden gladius to their freedom at that point. Some of them became addicted to fame and always relished the next adrenaline rush. The Jinni was such a fighter. Youth was one of the few things I had going for me.

If I won and married Aria, Pontia would be devastated, but Pontia now had a much better life than her. She wasn't routinely abused anymore; she wasn't the one thrown in the arena and pitted against ugly dwarfs who gang-raped her. I had heard that Aria had been rented by some rich Equestrian, and she was to be on display on the night of kalendas Novembris. And she was very pretty, so gladiators tended to chose her for the night before whenever they fought, as was their right. And then there was the lanista who liked her too. I had to get her out of this misery, and the only way was to make her my wife.

After all these weeks being torn between Pontia and Aria, there was something liberating in this; I had finally made up my mind. I knew Aria would be a very good wife, and I already knew she was a great fuck. Anyway, I was probably going to die and as a gladiatrix, Pontia would likely choose me to spend the last night with, while some more senior gladiator, perhaps Rhygus again, would take Aria for his night before the fight. Thus, my most likely outcome was death after one last night with Pontia.

It was Pontia for one night, or Aria for life. I felt unworthy to marry a demigoddess, so I chose the more common girl.

I was deep in these thoughts when I retired in my cell for the night. I was kneeling and praying Neptune to forgive me for choosing a wife other than his granddaughter, knowing he was clearly not a forgiving god. I actually expected to sense some angry tremors coming from Mount Ætna, which overlooked the sea from the other side of the Sicily Strait and was perfectly visible from Rhegium on a clear day; but the evening was perfectly silent, except for some late voices out on the street, beyond the school walls and my barred window; voices from outsiders which I faintly heard; people I would only hear loud and clear shortly before my life-or-death fight in the arena.

I heard someone unlocking my cell door.

"Sit tibi copia illâ, Kotale!" (make your great fun with her, Kotalos! = have fun with her, Kotalos!)

The warden slave jested by using one of the few Roman Latin expressions he knew as he closed the thick oak door behind my nightly visitor. She was holding a bright candle. At the light of that candle, I recognized the Greek singer! Of course! This was the night of her visit! I had completely forgotten her!

I got up from my straw bed and walked up to her; she stood less than a half head shorter, so noble, looking almost inaccessible with her goddess-like face, her epic long black hair and her dark-fire eyes looking straight at me.

The pure whiteness of her garments was bathed in the candle's golden light; her perky breast curves wonderfully sat on her slightly panting chest as her ageless body awaited my touch under the dignified frontier of her belt.

No words were spoken. I took the candle from her dainty hand, inebriating my senses with such light contact. After setting the candle on the floor and casting her giant shadow on the door and surrounding wall, I suddenly took her in my arms, pinned her against the oaken door and frantically kissed her lips of homeric wine.

Was she real? Her heavy panting under my teenage kissing said so. Each kisses of mine felt like violating a chaste goddess! She breathed even more intensely as she felt my hands undoing the brass fibulae on her shoulders and releasing the top of her white Greek-style tunica, which fell down and flooded me with the erotic warmth of her naked breasts, all goddess-like firm, perfectly curved, soft and proportionate in the candlelight.

I knelt down in front of her and once again tasted her wine-brown nipples as I felt her female firmness under my inebriated hands. My erection was predictably growing, but I was presently all intent in pleasuring her. I felt her immense arousal under my touch, her hardening nipple under my tongue. Her swelling breasts took an even more erotic splendour as I kept caressing her.

She voiced her pleasure in our native Greek...
"Ooohhh!!! Nai... Houtô!... Houtô... Ooo Kotale!" (Oooohhh!!! Yes... Like this!... Like this... Ooo Kotalos!)

She repeated the same words and whispers with a tenfold intensified homeric accent as I undid her belt, dropped her white dress down around her lovely legs and feet, discovered the night of her cunt bush and gently explored her womanhood with my hand, pleasuring her down there as I kept sucking and caressing her breasts, feeling her hands running through my hair.

Her pure Greek made it clear that she was no barbarian woman. It felt like the ancient statue of a chaste goddess had suddenly come to life, her hard warm marble suddenly turned into soft pale flesh, and she had just ordered me to pleasure her. While I kept pleasuring her, I knew that later, I would be exploring uncharted waters for my own pleasure. I was headed for a mysterious wine-dark sea of epic delight.


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Re: KOTALOS IN THE ARENA --- THE CURSED SON (incest, foot fetish)
« Reply #11 on: April 05, 2022, 04:12:49 AM »
Chapter 8 --- Let's Not Spoil A Good Fuck

As she started moaning louder and louder, I could tell this Greek woman was really enjoying being fingered while having her breasts sucked and kneaded by a youthful gladiator such as I. I heard some faint chuckling amid her loud moaning and I knew we were being watched through some small hole I hadn't found yet. Whoever was watching now had no doubt seen me fucking Pontia like a horny beast the night before my fight.

I was kneeling in front of her and paying tribute to her ageless beauty.

Swallowing my pride and overcoming my natural unease at doing such an unclean act with my mouth, I eventually went down on her, feeling her bush of black cunt hair against my face as I sat her on my shoulders. Being now strong enough to lift the 281-pound stone with ease, I didn't find she weighed very much as her lovely legs settled on either side of my head and I darted my tongue into her feminine sanctum, finding her clit and making her groan in intense pleasure as she no doubt steadied herself by holding the door jambs.

Her singer's voice sounded deliciously erotic; this was the very same voice that had sang the Hymn to Nemesis prior to my arena fight. Each stroke of my tongue was unraveling a new mystery in the form of her high-pitched moans and groans. I felt her inching closer to her climax. Performing oral sex was pretty much the dirtiest sexual act a Roman could do, by wasn't I an infamis as a gladiator, just like the actors and the other slaves? What difference did it make? If I ever got the chance to rape a noble maid again, then I'd greatly enjoy humiliating her by forcing her to perform fellatio like a whore.

My cell was filled with her Greek words of groaning ecstasy. She voiced out loud a fantasy where she was a high priestess in Corinth when the two-faced port was overrun by the Roman legions. Soldiers were gang-raping her; a centurion, tall and strong and largely endowed, was the first man inside her. He was banging her right against the lower part of a virgin-pure statue of Pallas Athena.

Whoever was watching through that peephole was having quite a show to see. I felt her bare feet making contact and often resting on my lower back; her dainty little soles were as cold as the floor! This was what aroused me the most! Although it was only through my thin tunica intima, this contact with the Greek singer's feet quickly grew a large and powerful erection between my legs.

I suddenly realized that I could fuck her NOW! She was wet all right. Her juices didn't taste exactly as sweet as honeyed wine, but I was happy to give her pleasure and properly prepare her for being duly taken by her young "centurion"!

"AAAAAAaaaaaaaahhh... NAI!!!! NAI!!!!.... AAAaaaaaaaNAAAIIII!!!!" (Nai! = Yes!)

She screamed in ecstasy as I speared her deep with my dick and started to bang her against the oaken door! I cupped and gently pressed her fully swollen breasts as I began fucking her; she was completely gone wild! I then quickly put my arms around her and she wrapped her delicious legs around me as I kept banging her and banging her again! Revelling in her intense groans as I fucked her against the door! It was beyond good!

After another few hard strokes, she loudly orgasmed in my arms!

She uttered the word "centurion-a" as she said it in Greek, Hellenizing the accusative form with a final "a" like many Greek masculine nouns when it was an accusative exclamation of intense passion! It sounded so sweet and lovely coming out her singer's mouth! I felt so proud to be banging such a civilized woman! Banging her like an unbriddled wild beast!

I began calling her a fucking whore and telling her all my men were going to have their turn inside her after I was done. She went perhaps even crazier! Filling the room with no-holds-barred screams of bliss and soon she was hit with a second, even more powerful orgasm in my arms! Ohhh Zeus and Poseidon! It was so GOOD and INTENSE!

This Greek singer, nude in my arms, was an amazing fuck!

All barriers and social distance and morality were abolished and smashed into dust by this all-powerful animalistic drive of copulation! I FUCKED! FUCKED! AND FUCKED HER AGAIN! YES! RAPING HER, THE HIGH PRIESTEST AGAINST THE CHASTE STATUE OF ATHENA!!! No more virginity here! The statue-goddess somehow managed to close her eyes not to see this brutal defilement!


My pulsating dick became like an independent thing and powerfully erupted with several hot ropes of thick Greek semen all rushing deep inside HER!!!

Our intensely sweating bodies remained united like one complete being as we panted against each other! I suddenly realized that this was no rape at all; I was simply having her for the night and she had wanted this herself! When you've raped so many times before, consensual sex may feel strange.

Yet it was very sweet to have my face buried into her hair, her wonderful scented night forest of raven locks! I stroked her hair, very gently, caressed her face and kissed her tenderly. At last, I could show her my genuine feelings for her. She kissed me back and called me "philtate!" (my love!) There was something deep and mysterious about her entire being. It felt like I had always known her, but this couldn't possibly be. Was she a demigoddess like Pontia?

Perhaps she was. She looked and felt so young for her years!

I took her in my arms and laid her down on my bed. I was burning to enjoy her lovely little girly feet! I began licking them avidly, tasting her female sweat and the pungent smell that was peculiar to each individual woman. I sniffed it good, making sure to go through the space between her toes; all delicate with female footness! It wasn't long until I began growing hard again. She smiled when she saw my new erection going up!

Before I knew it, I was lying down and her mouth was engulfing my dick. The candlelight shone bright when the kneeling woman had her long black hair gently stroking my tunica. I swiftly removed it to feel her hair directly on my abdomen. Her eyes widened with lust when she saw my chiseled abdominals at the shadowy candle light.

Keeping my dick firmly in her small hand, she began kissing and licking this muscle wall guarding my belly, using her other hand to stroke it. She suddenly stopped. She recoiled and became positively transfixed. She was looking intently at one precise location on my abdominals.

"SIGMA-TAU!!!" she suddenly screamed...

Then she shrieked in utter horror, while I asked her what was going on. She just kept shrieking. I became angry. Why couldn't I just have a quiet fuck? She had come HERSELF for this! And now she was backing off?! What had bit her all of a sudden?!

She kept shrieking right at the top of her voice, just as if I were a corpse decomposing in disgusting heaps of rotten flesh in front of her very eyes! I heard someone unlocking my door. The warden and his helper came in, wondering what was going on.

We couldn't get anything out of her. She just ignored us and screamed in unspeakable shock and horror.

I had an idea. She deserved to have her senses knocked back into her!

I spoke to the warden, a short and rather ugly man, and his helper, a younger man with a grotesquely large nose whose face had been deformed on the right side by some childhood illness. My voice loud enough to cover her scream, I asked them if they wanted to have her. I would hold her for them and keep her silent with a firm hand over her mouth, but first they needed to close the door.

The two ugly men looked at me in stupor, then looked at one another, then chuckled in wild anticipation, as she kept shrieking, looking at me, looking at them, looking at me again with nothing but sheer terror in her eyes, eyes that had been filled with love and passion moments before.

She was now getting raped! I went completely mad with lust! After them, I was also going to take my turn and this would be my first genuine rape in quite a while. I knew it was going to be epic!

I called her a whore. She was no longer enjoying this. We didn't care. I didn't care anymore. She had spoiled my night and she was to be properly punished!

« Last Edit: April 05, 2022, 04:49:11 AM by HistBuff »

Offline vile8r

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Re: KOTALOS IN THE ARENA --- THE CURSED SON (incest, foot fetish)
« Reply #12 on: April 05, 2022, 10:29:38 PM »
The dream sequences are a brilliant idea! Another great win from you, Histbuff.
I could rape your pussy, but I'd be in and out in a few minutes. So I choose to rape your mind, and I'll be inside you forever!

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Re: KOTALOS IN THE ARENA --- THE CURSED SON (incest, foot fetish)
« Reply #13 on: April 06, 2022, 04:54:36 AM »
The dream sequences are a brilliant idea! Another great win from you, Histbuff.

This is more a "niche" story than may be a good read for someone like Jess, but one cannot complain that there aren't enough rape and sex scenes!

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Re: KOTALOS IN THE ARENA --- THE CURSED SON (incest, foot fetish)
« Reply #14 on: April 06, 2022, 07:05:16 AM »
CHAPTER 9 --- The Curse, And Love

The Greek woman strained frantically as she tried to wrestle herself free from my grip; I held her fast and powerfully pressed my hand on her mouth to muffle her screams as the warden, and all his dirty-faced ugliness, grabbed her thighs and speared himself between her legs! After a short bout of squirming and wrestling on unequal terms, he tucked his tunic up and pushed his erect cock against her door to paradise!

The shorter, younger warden with the grotesque nose and half-disfigured face was right beside the muffled-shrieking woman and playing with her curve-perfect breasts, unable to believe his luck as he felt her pale firmness softly yielding under his unaccustomed hands. This was a big first in his life and it showed in the way he smiled and looked down on her charms!

The taller warden growled with delight as he felt himself going right inside her! He began pounding her in grunting wild satisfaction, wearing some wicked smile on his triumphant face and looking down on this off-limits woman he was now violating. The ghastly scene was very delightful and arousing. It ended all too soon with the lowly warden uttering a long-lasting groan as he vulgarly released his load inside this ageless homeric beauty!

Then the young, half-disfigured man followed suit, his face almost dark with dirt and his nose grotesquely protruding above his evil grin as he introduced his manhood inside the sobbing woman who was still desperately struggling under my iron grip. My erection was ready to burst as I watched the second rapist pushing hard inside her and imposing his own rhythm to her rocked and abused body! He raped her very urgently and quickly cummed with a loud scream of unfathomable delight...

His scream filled the tiny cell, which was so small that I had my back against a wall while the other warden was leaning on the other wall beside me, yet close enough to touch her with his vile hands. We threw gigantic shadows on the stonewalls as the candlelight casted our silhouettes from the floor up.

Now was my turn. I thought she'd be tired and wouldn't resist as much since I was the third man, but I was completely mistaken. As soon as she realized I was about to take my turn, she bit my hand and almost broke free in a very surprising surge of strength that came out of nowhere! I called on my two wardens to hold and silence her and instructed them to flip her over as I wanted to enjoy her from behind.

Not being a fan of ass-rape, I delightfully contemplated her smooth and pale ass-cheeks and grabbed her comparatively small waist before violating her with my urgently erect manhood! Then I banged her just as fierce and hard as the centaur Nessos would have raped Dejanira if he had defeated Hercules!

Oh ZEUS!!! It was so GOOD! Banging her and feeling her wonderfull butt cheeks smacking my lap repeatedly as I blissfully felt my dick running out of control and soon enough, the volcano surged inside my core and all hell broke loose! I screamed hard against the low cell ceiling as my dick almost killed me with delight and spewed a surprisingly massive load of cum!

She screamed and struggled with redoubled efforts in the grip of my wardens when I told her it felt great to impregnate her like a Greek mare!

I soon found myself alone in my cell, in a silence that felt unreal, almost terrifying after such a rowdy encounter. In all this fury and excitement, the candle had been left standing on the floor where she had first put it down. The light died as I slept.

I lapsed into a dream. The dream of a long-forgotten memory.

"Sigma-Tau... Sigma-Tau... Sigma-Tau... Paidikon... Paidikon Sigma-Tau... Kooooo-talos!!!"

I am a baby. A woman is breast-feeding me and sings these words in her dreamy voice... Her presence is so incredibly soothing! She's my life.

Sigma-Tau... Sigma-Tau... Sigma-Tau... Paidikon... Paidikon Sigma-Tau... Kooooo-talos!!!...

Paidikon... Little child... I grab one of her hair in my baby mitt, I hold this black lock gone astray on her milk-full breasts... I hear her singing with such a wonderful voice as I suck the life-giving drink from her tender nipple. Her voice sounds young and heavenly; she smells fresh and young. I feel so close to her. So very close. She's my life. She's everything.

Sigma-Tau... Sigma-Tau... Sigma-Tau... Paidikon... Paidikon Sigma-Tau... Kooooo-talos!!!...

The cockcrow brutally awakens me.

Sigma-Tau! As the grey morning light filters through my narrow barred window, I emerge from my sea-grey blanket and look down on my abdomen. I don't see my birthmark yet, for it's still too dark, but it's there, just a little south of my navel...


It's shaped like a Greek T ... τ
And it's tail is curved like a sigma ... ς

She sang this to me... With her jet-black hair... And her voice... The Singer!!!

I scream at the top of my voice...



The warden quickly unlocks my door as I run into frantic madness. He is quickly helped by gladiators and trainers who pull me out of my cell and try to calm me down to no avail as I keep screaming... I've lost my Latin...

They tied me to a sturdy post and let me scream out my horror and anguish until I was utterly exhausted; they also affixed a stick for my teeth to bite into, lest I bite off my own tongue.

My madness lasted for what felt like an eternity of succeeding day and night. Sometimes I confusedly felt my fellow gladiators untying me and helping me to the common restrooms; I vaguely felt the vinegar-sponge wiping my ass before they strapped me again to the post in some lonely inner court.

Rain fell on my shoulders, washed my face. I wanted to kill myself. I was cursed! Like Oedipus!

Then the sun shone through and warmed my skin. A dove came flying in. It briefly perched itself on my shoulder. Its presence greatly soothed me. The white bird made a strange sound, then it quickly flew away into the deep blue sky.

I could have sworn it had said with a female voice...
"Kotale... Σε φιλώ!" (se feelo = I love you)

I felt better.

I felt this bird, this divine bird wanted me to go on. To live. It was her wish.

They unstrapped me from my post. They washed me, took care of me. The gladiators and instructors were like family. They made me eat. Then they took me to my cell and I slept.

The next morning, I had breakfast, told Aria I had missed her, gave her a quick kiss and then I resumed my training.

Everybody in Rhegium was looking for the Greek singer. She had gone missing a couple of days ago. Then some fisherman found robes with jewelry at the foot of a cliff. The singer's servants confirmed the fact; all of this was hers.

An old man, half-blind, that no one took seriously, who lived near this high cliff, swore he had seen a very beautiful woman jumping down that cliff in the grey light of dawn. She never reached the bottom. All he saw was a dove flying from the cliff as the sea surf rolled and crashed against the pale marble rocks.

The End.
« Last Edit: April 06, 2022, 07:31:13 AM by HistBuff »