Arena (PM to join)

[BadForm]

Arena (Closed for BadForm and Prissy_Kitty)

(Currently looking for one female writer with a good ability to direct a storyline. Other roles may open later, but for now NPC's will be jointly controlled. PM me to join. And please... no one-line zeroes or four-f heroes (four-f: find him, feel him, fuck him, forget him). I'm looking for a more developed storyline than merely an srp.)

Metal crashed against metal as hammer met shield. Her blow staggered me and I felt my knees buckle. My shield arm felt like dead weight after blocking the last attack. My whole body throbbed. I heard the rush of air and looked up to see the giant warhammer poised above me ready to deliver a killing blow. That was her mistake: her first, her last, her only mistake. I twisted and thrust my sword forwards into the meat of her thigh. Her face changed from a visage of exhausted hate to one of agonized surprise and she collapsed. The warhammer fell with her, its weight striking and dislocating her shoulder. I staggered to my feet. She was good, very good. Women fighters were much rarer than men, and very few could stand their ground if pitted against members of the Male League. They had the agility, but not the brute strength. There were exceptions, of course. If the random draw had given my opponent any weapon except the warhammer I would probably be dead.

Nobody could say for certain how it had happened. The parents’ lobby blamed reality holo-shows. In the never-ending chase for viewer ratings they became more and more extreme. In doing so they made what had been unacceptable acceptable. Of course, parents had always blamed social problems on everything that differentiated one generation from the next whether it was reality holo-shows in the 22nd century, valdaru music in the 21st century or blue jeans in the 20th. Economists blamed the incredible technology that came from and increased the global economic boom. Rapidly workers became obsolete in almost all positions. Only creative endeavors such as the arts, science, the higher levels of human services, government and executive business ranks remained. Given the wealth available to the leisure class that made up 99% of humanity, even these became more hobbies than employment. Fat and bored, people came to desire others to pamper and entertain them and were unwilling to do so themselves. It wasn’t equality, but for all but the poorest it was prosperity. There would always be the malcontents, the greedy and the hard-done-by who refused society’s dictates. Social planners blamed the prison system which never reformed people and was always overcrowded. New wealth brought new peace. Yet boredom bred crime. External wars became internal wars on the criminals. Prison populations soared and something had to be done with all those bodies. Perhaps most accurately of all, the skeptics simply stated that for as long as there had been people there had been people to exploit them.

In 2115, the Senate and Congress of the Republic of the Americas reinstated slavery as a replacement to prison sentences. The Democratic Commonwealth of Afroeuropean States, the Federated States of Oceania and even the Islamic People’s Republic of Asia followed suit within 5 years. Petty crimes such as traffic violations may consign a convict to a life of domestic servitude with duties limited to cleaning, waiting tables, etc.. Theft and mid-range crimes might result in consignment to life as a pleasure slave destined to serve as a sex-toy, mobile and modifiable artwork, piece of furniture etc. For others, for the murderers, terrorists, pedophiles and rapists, there was the arena and an almost certain death within a year or less. The civil rights lobby was assuaged by the fact that the innocent could be freed, unlike the death penalty. As to the various world governments, the idea that they could confiscate personal property of the convicted for the state was, as always, irresistibly tempting.

As I say, for some of us, there was the arena. Its walls towered above me as I looked up to the State Governor’s box. Centered high above that was the giant holoscreen used to ensure everyone had a good view of the fight and the life-or-death decision that followed it. Above the arena floor the hologram of the Governor extended it’s arm and flipped it’s palm up. The woman was to live. The decision was met with a rousing cheer, she had fought well.

I thrust the point of my sword forward through her neck, severing veins and windpipe alike.

A hush fell over the crowd. Such disobedience was shocking. The Governor stood up and screamed at me in rage, his voice echoing around the stadium from the surround sound speakers.

“How dare you! I told you to let her live. If you have no respect for my governance you can die with her!”

The wall guns around the arena trained on me. I shrugged and awaited the inevitable. I didn’t care if I died, only that I show once again that even if I were imprisoned and forced to fight I was nobody’s slave. As one, the crowd began to countdown three seconds to my doom, their pace set by a clock overlaying the hologram.

“No, Governor. Don’t kill him!”

I looked towards the executive box high up on the right, surprised for the first time in over a decade. A woman stood there, staring at the governor. From this distance I wasn’t sure, but it looked like The Sybil, the only female gladiator to have been granted her freedom from the arena for winning so many fights for her master. It was rumored she ran her own slave trading company now, specializing in gladiators but covering the gamut of slavery. Of course, since few of us slaves knew her real name the rumors could be as false as they could be true.

The governor’s hologram looked as surprised as I was. “How dare you tell me what to do, woman?” It roared. “This man must die.”

“Governor, I meant no offence. But I wish to purchase him from you.”

“He is a rebel, uncontrollable.”

“Nevertheless. Name your price.”

Angry though the Governor was, he was no fool. Even in the new wealthy state there was room for more money. He thought briefly before announcing his price. “Two billion Pesos.”

The woman barely paused. “Done. Have the guards bring him to my estate. Chain him, but do not harm him.”

I didn’t resist as the guards entered the arena to take me away. My weariness was gone. I was simply too intrigued to see why she had purchased me to want to do anything but be taken to her estate. What awaited me I could not even guess.

 

[prissy_kytten]

After agreeing to pay the Governor his outlandish price and ordering gladiator chained and brought to her place Sybil (as they like to call her) exited the Arena.

Walking through the familiar halls and out into the court yard she summoned her chariot so she would arrive home before the guards did.

Her Chariot was brought up to a halt infront of her, the two beautiful white mares pancing the ground at the sight of their master. Walking up she ran her hand done the smoothly braided mane of White Light, and then stepped into her chariot taking the reins in her firm grip, lashing down the mares started to trot and then gallop.

Sybil watched as the country side flew by, on feild after the other, never slowing down trusting in White Light and days Dawn to get her safely home. Reining them in as her mansion came into veiw she marvelled at it once more, still not quite believing what she had made of herself since she had been freed by her then master.

The walls were made of stone plastered in inticate shapes that seemed chaotic and beautiful at the same time, the double wooden door had a mare head for a knocker, and finally laid stones for steps.

Dismounting she handed her reains to a stable boy with instruction for him to make sure both mares were fed and bedded down, for rest.

Slowly she walked up the stairs reached out and opened the door, in the entry way there stood two statues one of her in her gladiators garb the other of the male whom she had killed to win her freedom it was her homage to the scarifice of his death. As she walked past the statue of her opponent she stoped to rub her fingers over the familiar face.

Looking down the hall she could see the door to her study was open, no doubt her scribe was busy working the numbers for her latest venture.

Walking towards the door she looked in to see that indeed he was there toiling away at the numbers. "leave me" and with that he got up and quickly left the room.

Sybil walked over to the firepit and picked up the wooden bottle and a glass, poring herself a drink of wine she walked over to the chaise lounge and drapped her body across it, her gaze taking in the room around her.

The tapestries were woven in scenes of battles, her rugs were crimison red, the furniture was all accented in gold, the chaise she now lounged upon was gold with crimson roses adorning it.

lounging she awaited the delivery the newest additon to her collection.

 

[BadForm]

The van pulled to a halt, signalling our arrival. I listened to the footsteps outside as the guards approached. It was strange, they were the only sounds I could hear. Even in the more luxuriant areas of the megalopolis the sounds of engines filled the air, not to mention the government's public announcements resounding from every public building about the good works the politicians were supposedly doing. I'd never heard such silence before. Then the doors opened.

I blinked in the late afternoon sunlight. This was a sunlight untainted by the purifying gases and colored lights I was used to. It took me a while to adjust to the briliance. That's when my jaw dropped. I'd learned to control my emotions in the arena. You never gave away a tell if you had the slightest interest in living. What I saw broke that control. Trees, not pruned like the ones you saw in the plazas, but barely trimmed, stood nearby in masses. And what trees! Everyone was used to the tiny ones you saw in the city. Many of us had the pleasure of seeing the neatly lined oaks and yews of parklands. These trees made those look like mere twigs.

"Come on, slave," said the driver as the guards raised their guns towards my throat. "And don't try anything stupid."

He started leading me forwards by a lead attached to my collar. As I turned to follow him I saw the woman's habitation for the first time. Where was the plasteel? Where was the rockrete? What I was looking at had the appearance of something from the legends of history. I remembered when I was a child in school, a time I had long since tried to blot from my mind. We had been forced to take history classes and one point of disagreement between teachers was whether something called "houses" had existed in the past. Century-old literature was riddled with descriptions of them, but there was no archaeological evidence. This looked like a "house" but built for a number of families to live in.

This woman was becoming more and more intriguing. Such space! The public service announcements always reminded us that "With twelve billion people in the world, space is precious." The malcontents said it was the lack of space that made possessions so important, that what people couldn't have was replaced with what they could. Such construction! I doubted any construction-bot had built this place. I doubted any programs existed to make it. That meant she'd had to hire artisans and craftspeople. To do so for something this grand must have cost a president's ransom. I followed the driver as he led me to the door and grasped some kind of pulley mechanism. Inside I heard a strange sound, a ringing like an alarm but different. Moments later the door opened.

 

[prissy_kytten]

Sybil lounging on the chaise had heard the knocker at the door, when her servant came to inquire she had ordered them to answer and bring the man to her at once.

Her eyes glittered with ideas of what this incounter might hold, she had just saved this gladiator from certain death, but there was more then that, she could see the same definance in him as she had once possessed. Within him she could see the caged animal that had once resided in her allowing for all of her victories, within both the arena and in her business of choice.

Her gladiator would not be a mere slave as all others were to her, she thought to offer him his freedom in return for his partnership, he would, she could tell be an excellent partner for her ventures, he could test skill, weed out bad purchases and if time allowed it come to love his new home as much as she.

With space so limited in this day and age she had only been able to purchase this land and have this masion built because on his death he old master had willed everything he possessed to her allowing her more then enough financial freedom to begin her empire. Her first step had been in spending the billions it took to have this histroical site sold to her and taken from public history, none knew or even cared that this had once been the lands of the countries founding fathers, all people cared about these days was belongings, jaded amusements, and money. She was able to provide the most influential in the world with all three, in any shape or form they desired, people, money, jewelry of the finest cuts, cloth, art, you name it she could find and provide it.

Her gladiator was the first purchase she had made strickly for her own pleasure, she had no intentions of giving him up no matter the price offered. That is if he could fullfill his role as her equal in order to test that she would have to square off with him in battle, one of witts and intrigue instead of swords and shields.

 

[BadForm]

If I thought the outside had been splendid, the inside was no less impressive. It wasn't the amount of possessions this woman had, nor even the value of them (though to my untrained eye they seemed valuable), but the way everything was laid out so perfectly. It was at once the extravagance that came with greater wealth than most people and yet the carefully arranged display of individual artworks that you saw in poorer homes. It showed finesse. If she had afforded all this from her slave trading business then she obviously made a bigger killing in the metaphorical sense of the trading world than she did in the literal sense of the gladiatorial arenas.

I looked around to study the escapes, checking on what was flammable, breakable and wieldable as weapons. What I saw around me was amazing, but it might just indicate she had turned soft. Either way, I was not here to please her. Even with her reputation she hadn't earned it. Once I had discovered her reason for buying me I would work on leaving. Of course, all I had seen so far was the house, not the gladiator pens. Still, if they were as elaborately designed as the house, or more accurately if they were as antiquated, then they could not hold me like a modern pen.

Something nagged at my mind. I tried not to listen, but it was unavoidable. She hadn't proven herself worthy of my decision to stay. That didn't mean I wasn't willing to stay if it suited my purpose. I could always stay until I was bored, until she no longer intrigued me. Then I could leave.

We were ushered into a working room. My purchaser was sat in a chair. My eyes looked into hers as the driver spoke an introduction. Most men would have looked over her curves and lines, trying to taste her flesh as if it was a lump of meat. I didn't need to, it wasn't sex I wanted. I wanted to know if she was the Sybil. If her steady and calculating gaze didn't tell me it was the most famous gladiator of all then the scars beneath her left eye, maintained to bone level with special bacteria so they could never heal, said it all. They were gladiatorial scars - one for each victory. Most successful gladiators gained two or three before being killed. I had seven. I tore my eyes away from the dozen plus on her face to look back in the eyes.

"So you are the Sybil." I couldn't stop myself from thinking that aloud and was angry at my loss of control.

 

[prissy_kytten]

Sybil lounged on the chaise watching her new gladiator as he studied her, not her body but her eyes and her scars, gauging her, sizing her up. His eyes seemed to trace every scar she had that was visable most being on her face. Her gaze held him steady not flinching at his scrutiny.

"So you are the Sybil."

"Aye that I am gladiator" Sybil could not remove her eyes from him, within his eyes depths she could see defiance, but also something esle was it awe or a grudging respect, she did not know and it was to soon to tell.

Slowly Sybil stood taking measured steps towards the wine, puring herself another drink she filled another cup and brought it to the gladiator. Once he took the glass from her she motioned for him to take a seat, shaking his head she assumed he prefered to stand during their interview.

"I am sure you are wondering why it is I purchased you from your death." Sybil saw the slight rise of his brow and continued.

"I did not buy you only to sell you or to cage you, I bought you because I felt your defiance and fearlessness when faced with death, i saw a little glimmer of me in you today in the Arena."

Pausing and taking a sip of her wine she looked at him, she knew she had to be right, he would be a perfect partner, this she understood because he looked only at her face and did not seem to be in awe over her possessions, had he been she would have had him penned with the other gladiators.

"What I offer you is a partnership of sorts, you have something I want, and I can give you you something you need, your freedom."

Looking at him waiting for a reaction but not getting an outward one she continued.

"This would be a business arrangement, are you interested?"

 

[BadForm]

So that was it? She wanted to give me my freedom like she had been given hers. I was disappointed.

"From the tales I heard I had believed you weren't a slave."

A momentary frown flickered across her forehead, surprise most likely at the response to her offer. Not only did I blatantly ignore the offer she had made but I'd responded with a ridiculous statement. All gladiators were slaves. The arena was nothing more than a protracted death sentence for the worst criminals of all.

"You can't offer me my freedom, I was never a slave. Weren't you watching in my last fight? What happened wasn't the act of a slave was it? Sure, they could put me in the arena. That was all they were capable of. I chose to fight as it at least offered a challenge. And my final act... The governor had the power to kill me but he didn't have the power to make me spare the woman I fought. He had no power to control me, and nor do you. You can only control, and only free, a slave - someone who gives up their own will. If you were the woman I thought you were you'd know that already. I guess I was wrong."

Still chained as I was I turned around. I felt a gun point to the side of my head. Hard plasteel threatened to push its way into my skull. I ignored it.

"Now, I'm bored. I'm leaving."

 

[prissy_kytten]

Knowing that killing him was not the answer to his challange, Sybil lowered the weapon, she realized her mistake and knew she had to rectify it quickly. Tossing the pistol to the side she took two steps back, he was so much like her, so confidant, so self aware, he knew that she would not kill him.

Her eyes roamed his chained form, thinking what to do next, she could punish him, could have him beaten, but what would that prove, that she was not who she had once been??

"Your bored are you? So you think you can leave, not a slave say you? Well I have no use for more slaves and even less use for a man who knows not the worth of what he is offered.
I knew you were not like the others, you did not care of the life you have, you do not care even now if I take it. The most deadly opponent is the one with nothing to live for, I taught many that lesson."

Sybil walked over and pulled a cord hanging from the celling.

Watching waiting for the servant to arrive she considered if this course of action was wise but thinking of no other way to get through to him she made up her mind.

When the servant arrived she order him to get her gladiator gear, and to prepare her 'little arena' she would be in need of it.

"So we shall see who is the master, you well fight me and I well live, to look at you flat on your back, with that smug look wiped from your face."

Signaling for the guard she ordered "take him to the pen"

 

[BadForm]

I knew she didn't understand, not really. She wanted me to fight her and claimed that would show who the master was. Nobody would ever master me. They could kill me, torture me, tie me up and make my body respond to pleasure. It didn't matter, I would not be mastered. But that wasn't it, not at the deepest level. Fighting her would be interesting. She had maintained a woman gladiators body, powerful yet graceful. If the legends of those animals that were long extinct were more than mere myths she had the appearance of a panther or jaguar. Even as she reclined over the chaise she had looked like she could spring at a moment - at least she had if you knew how to watch a person. But had she maintained her combat prowess? It was hard to see how she could have in the softening easy life she now lived. Yes, fighting her would be interesting. She had been good enough to give me the the only challenge I had faced in years apart from my last fight, and even that I had won.

She had given me a challenge. It wasn't enough. Yet perhaps it was only that which had me wanting her to understand. I wondered if she had researched my background... and if so what she thought about it. I had committed a dual rape-murder. It was of two police officers, one male and one female, while they were at the police station. I had made a major news story for a few days until the press bored of it and turned instead to the next horror story on their agenda. They called me sick. They called me dangerous. They called me every hellish name they could, but they never showed any true understanding of the crime. I didn't care about the sex. I didn't care about their deaths. I certainly didn't care about my arrest. I cared that I had been able to get past a mass of guards, pass security cameras, drag one of their members into a secure area, assault and murder him, dispose of his body in a way that meant I would be stalked and still have time to finish off my second victim before her final scream brought the armed police officers to me. I cared about the challenge. I didn't care that the news media, investigators, judge, jury and prosecutor entierly failed to understand the crime. They hadn't earned my willingness to care. Very few people ever had.

As I sat in my cell awaiting the time of the fight I ignored the meal that was prepared for me. I didn't care that not eating would weaken me, if anything that made the fight more of a challenge. Instead I let myself continue with my reminiscence. I thought about the last time someone earned my respect.

...

I was sitting in the arena waiting area ready for my first fight. I would be the third fight of the evening and still had some time to go before I was taken out to fight. I was as bored as the other gladiators around me and stared, barely seeing, into the arena pit. The gladiators for the first fight had been introduced. It was a female league match and one which showed why the owners used the word female instead of women's. A seasoned woman of three victories was pitted against a rich kid. The woman had been a gang leader before being placed in the arena, the girl had been found guilty - in a dubious trial - of murdering her parents by burning down their home. The woman stood poised and ready to fight, the girl could barely even lift the greatsword she'd drawn as a weapon. It was a mismatch in the most ridiculous ways. For the owners it was more an entertainment than a fight. And then the siren sounded to announce the beginning of the fight.

At once the woman began to torment the girl with the trident she was using. Knowing full well that the owners would love the suffering of any criminal she stabbed at the girl repeatedly. Yet the girl didn't stop trying to fight back. She swung her sword wildly, its weight dragging her in a semi-circle to fall on the floor. The woman danced away from the strike and laughed. She stabbed the girl in the thigh ensuring she couldn't stand. She stabbed the girl in the arm, weakening her further. And still the girl pulled at the sword with both arms, screaming in pain as she managed to slowly raise it. She couldn't swing it now, she had no power and no leverage. The woman prepared for a final strike.

And I saw how pathetic the arena owner was. His guards were staring at the fight, ignoring their duty to guard us. I was cuffed with my hands in front of me and not manacled. Worse, the gate from the pen was open. The girl had earned my respect.

I sprang suddenly, smashing into the guard near my and snatching the gun from his belt. I sprinted into the arena drawing confused shrieks from the spectators. The gladiators stopped too to stare at me and that gave me the few seconds I needed to toss the gun to the girl and dive onto the woman. She dropped her weapon and fought me with her bare hands. I swung my arms over her body, using the loop between the cuffs, my arms and my chest as a rope to bind her. I rolled onto my back with her on top of me. I screamed at the girl to pull the trigger and she did. The woman screamed as the laser cut through her chest. I tried to avoid the shot, but still it tore through my wrist and side. Around me, the crowd cheered the bizarre end to the fight.

I think it was the crowd's appreciation for the strangeness of the situation that stopped me from being killed outright. Instead I was forced to fight unarmed that night. Though I somehow survived I was severely injured and my "master" made sure I took months to heal. That was three years ago. Nobody's courage had been enough to impress me since then. I had not seen anybody face the worst odds and not freeze. Nobody in any situation had that girl's bravery. Nobody had impressed me enough for me to die for them and that meant nobody had impressed me at all. I never knew what happened to the girl, but I would still die for her if needed.

...

I barely noticed that evening was drawing closer until the guards arrived to take me out to the arena for my fight.

 

[prissy_kytten]

Standing in my prep room I started to garb myself in the familair clothing of my trade, the Black leather pleated studded skirt, leather chin guards, my armoured corset closed at my back, my hair pulled up in a tight knot at the back of my head, I was in my element poised and ready for battle.

I knew in the back of my mind that if he could teh gladiator would kill me, not because he would relish the death but because he would enjoy the challenge of the fight. I had seen him in action, and read his histroy, if i knew anything about him it was that he did not act out of a need to impress with actions he acted instead to challenge himself. Nothing meant more to him then finding a worthy challenge.

"If I survive this I well tell him all I well get him to join me." I thought to myself. As I walked down the hall towards the back of the estate, I thought back to all that I had accomplished in the last three years all that had become of her since that faithful day when a gladiator had saved her.

Remembering that day the fear as she stood in the arena a greatsword in my hand, face to face with the more seasoned woman, the way i had been toyed with, the multiple stab wounds I had suffered during that battle to save my life the struggle to stand while I bled from my multiple wounds. I had been shocked when he had appeared and tackled my opponent, ordering me to shot her.

His actions saved me that day but my masters actions in training me had saved my life. He had me tutored to use any weapon fine tuned to strike and withdraw never underestimate but never fear the one I fought. Under his tutelage I won fight after fight adventually winning my freedom when he grew to sick to maintain his 'business' obligations.

Shaking my head I snap back to the present, back to the here and now, I had to consentrate, i could not allow my mind to dwell on the past, i had to win this fight, so I could continue my work, continue freeing gladiators, shipping them else where to live there lives as they carried out special missions for me, missions that only very few could accomplishand. I was waging a private war and the government was my first and only enemy, as well as my financier (only they did not know this).

Stepping out into the sun as it was setting I looked to the little Arena wondering what this night would hold, would it be victory or defeat and if I fell who would be left to carry on my work.

Stepping into the arena I saw him and took a moment to pause, then said "gladiator chose your weapon."

 

[BadForm]

She ran her place differently to most masters, or at least she was doing for this special fight. Most forced a random choice of weapon on their gladiators, drawn from a closed container. That random element added to the fear for the ones who may be about to die, and perhaps more importantly it increased the pleasure for everyone watching and making bets before the fight began. To be allowed to choose a weapon was a luxury.

I looked at her as she stood ready, greatsword in her hands. Was the armor she wore new? A rumor had circulated that she, "the best gladiator in the world", had been allowed special armor by her master. Being the best she probably didn't need it, but given most of us got to wear fake armor as a show at best it certainly made her more interesting for people to watch. It was a badge, a symbol, and it drew in the crowds almost as much as her name itself. She had given me armor this evening too, and I put it on to make the challenge she faced somewhat more difficult. Was she ready to face a gladiator having left the arena herself?

I made my selection quickly. If she thought she was still my equal then I'd let her face an equal gladiator. She wielded a greatsword and another had been placed on the table of weapons. I took it quickly and walked back to the center of the arena. She called the start of the fight, and that's when I froze.

There was something about her, about the way she stood, the slight unevenness to her legs. It was one-hair off the opening stance that seasoned gladiators received training to adopt. It seemed familiar. Her flesh too, the color in the evening sun. The way her hair was tied back. I had never fought the Sybil before. I had never even seen her fight, so how could it seem like I had?

My pause was at most two seconds long and she was on me in that time. I reacted quickly to block her opening swing and found myself overbalanced by its weight. She was stronger that most men I'd fought and sparred with. I retaliated, feigning a swing to her shin before curving the blade up towards her arm. A move like that with a heavy weapon took training and discipline. It didn't fool her at all. And so we fought. She read me like a holojournal. I might as well have cut and thrust like an incompetent boy. I managed to push her back once. She virtually danced me around the arena. Finally, as I tried to recover from her latest attack, she saw her opening and pulled her greatsword back to swing into my side. It was a finishing blow and, if modern medecine were withheld, a killing one. I had to react quickly.

Her eyes called to me. I had only seen that stare once before. I'd seen it when I held a woman pinned to my body. I'd seen it on the face of a girl who had been faced with her own death and taken her chance to live in a swift and cool decision. The Sybil was the girl I had saved? It seemed impossible. She had been out of the arena for a year. That meant the twelve fights that made her name had been fought in less than three. Four or five fights a year? Had her master been insane? And now that I knew the truth I knew what my swift reaction would be.

I tossed my weapon aside and fell into a kneeling position. The look on her face told me she was surprised. If it wasn't for her strength and skill then her blow would have beheaded me. Instead the swing stopped as the sword blade rested against my neck. The blade cut a layer of skin and otherwise left me unharmed.

"I am yours," I said firmly. "Mistress."

 

[prissy_kytten]

If I had not such control of my strength I would have beheaded him with my last stroke of the sword as he dropped his weapon to the ground saying
"I am yours, Mistress."

I was shocked at the sudden turn around in his actions could it be that he recognized her even now three years later, battle tested and scarred??? Pulling my mouth closed I had to think of something to say someway to make him understand that I was not his Mistress but his equal, that i had fought all those fights so one day I could save him as he had saved me.

"Well I know your name gladiator, as it has been withheld for far to long?"

I await patiently for him to rise, my nerves on edge my greatsword falling to the ground. When he does not rise I fall to my knees before him reaching my hand out i touch his cheek with my finger tips, relishing in the warmth of another human being, one that was equal to myself, one I had great plans for.

Putting my fingers under his chin I rised his eyes to meet my own, "In this we are equals as in everything else, I need not a servant, I need someone who can fullfill the duties of a partner, one with the not only bravery and skill but that can meet any challenge set fourth." Looking deep into his eyes I say "what say you gladiator, well you except my challenge, well you be my equal?"

 

[BadForm]

I looked at her as she spoke. She was more than anyone I had ever known before and in those few seconds as much as in her fight when I'd first seen her she proved herself worthy of what I gave. What I gave was everything.

"I'll be your equal if that's what you want, but you should understand something - I'll never be able to make the business decisions you do. That's not because I lack your intelligence, I think I can achieve any goal you set. What I can't do is care what those goals are."

I knew from her face I was saying it all wrong, or perhaps it was an insanity that even I didn't understand. Whatever it was, I pressed on.

"You have a goal in life, so do I. Mine isn't anything to do with achievement or possessions though. Mine is simply to face my fears, my weaknesses, and overcome them. All I want is to be the best I can, at whatever I do. I don't care what that is. So if you're looking for someone to care about your business like you do, then I can't give you that..."

I raised my own hand to her chin and held her as she did me, raising just slightly so I was over her as she had been over me.

"You are the only person I have seen since I was thirteen who has been so willing to face odds beyond herself. That's why I saved you three years ago... and yes, I do recognize you. The eyes never lie and a basic stance always remains. They're more reliable than fingerprints, more unique than dna to those who know how to look. When I saw you fight today, I saw that look and that stance. I fought as well as I could, because I was afraid that your life had softened you. It hasn't. And I left myself open to the last strike because I wanted you to understand something - when someone earns my respect they earn my life. I cannot decide what you... what we... should do with the business. What I can do is everything I am able to make sure you achieve ANYTHING you want to."

I moved swiftly, stepping to her side as I placed one arm under her legs and another under her shoulders. I stood as quickly as I could so she was lifted in my arms. I doubt she could have reacted quickly enough to stop my manouver if she'd wanted to. She allowed it even if she could have.

"You have my life, my body, mind and soul. I will do anything I can to carry you forward in your goals, as I carry you physically now. As to my name... I've used and cast off a few in my life. I'll answer to whatever you want."

 

[prissy_kytten]

Sybil was in shock, she had never had such devotion not even from those she freed, when he picked her up she whad thought for a moment she might refuse him, but in the last instant she realised she did not want to.

Looking deeply into his eyes she was gaining an understanding of him that she felt few if any had ever had before.

"I believe that in time you well come to care about my business I do, my fist mission for you is me. I would like to see you as you are stripped of armour, I want to explore your scars, touch each one of them,I want to know the real you....... I want you to know me, the real me."

Looking at him as he carried her she wondered where he was heading. She watched the Arena pass by, then the grounds his steady pace eating up the distance to the main house.

 

[BadForm]

As I walked, we looked at each other in silence. I carried her back to the main house, unsurprised to find the doors unlocked. Doubtless she had security enough to make the house safe from breakins or restless slaves. I did not know the house, and could not guess where her bedroom may lie. The only room I could find so far was her study, and though that seemed the least appropriate, it was where I took her.

I lay her on the chaise she had been reclining on when I was brought here. It seemed so different now, I was "free" as far as anyone else would consider it and "possessed" in my own realization. I stepped back and looked at her, studying her minutely from the flow of each hair to the leather on her feet that glowed in the sunlight despite its use in the arena.

"You are beautiful..." I realized suddenly that I had no idea of her name. In the arena they called her The Sybil, named apparently after ancient female seers from the Oil Regions of the Islamic Republic of Asia. The name was a reflection of how readily she seemed to read her opponents strikes, as though she had forethought. It certainly wasn't her real name. "I'm sorry, I don't know your name."

I waited for her answer before saying anything further.

 

[prissy_kytten]

Being carried into the study and laid on the lounge I could believe that i was a goddess of old the was my gladiator looked down upon me.

"I'm sorry, I don't know your name."

Looking up at him i realized that he understood my real name was not Sybil but I had lived and breathed that name for three years, could I now let someone else into that private part of me that none knew, the real me, but that is waht i wanted to experience with him, the real people that we were not who we were molded into be our previous masters.

"My name. my true name is Keira." I smiled at him liking the sound of my name, would he use it while we were togther, would i hear it moaned as i lay beneath him?

 

[BadForm]

"Keira..." I savored the name as if it were fresh fruit. It felt sweet on my tongue. "A name as beautiful as you are."

I reached for the straps that held the clothing and armor tight to my body and began to unfasten them. She wanted me naked, and I would be naked for her. In truth, she wanted more than to see me. She wanted what nobody had ever had - my love in the physical and perhaps emotional sense. I dropped my tunic and revealed my scarred chest.

"Keira, there is something you should know. This is more of a challenge than you may imagine. I have never made love before. I have had sex, once. It was a dual rape and murder I committed, and that was what had me turned into a gladiator. I have never loved another though. I do not know how to be sensitive with a woman."

I could feel that I was blushing, but she seemed to want my honesty. Though I could not be sure, this felt like the hardest things I had ever done. Certainly nothing in the arena came close. There I just faced pain and death. Here I faced the deepest exposure a person can offer, my Self.

"For you, I will learn fast, but you may have to help me if you want this to be pleasurable."

 

[prissy_kytten]

Hearing my name on his lips almost washed away the last three years, almost made me feel whole again, like a person, a normal person, but was there really such a thing, in this day, in this age, no I think not.

"A name as beautiful as you are."

When he said that i allowed every thought to escape my body, wanting to feel the words like a caress, feel them how i longed to feel my gladiator.

as he starts to remove his armour I listen to his words deep in contemplation
"Keira, there is something you should know. This is more of a challenge than you may imagine. I have never made love before. I have had sex, once. It was a dual rape and murder I committed, and that was what had me turned into a gladiator. I have never loved another though. I do not know how to be sensitive with a woman."

Is this what he thought I wanted of him, gentleness and compassion, no I picked him because I saw his capacity, I knew one day he could love me but as for anything else I needed a equal one I could not dominate with my presence. One who could give me all I gave.

I see him blush as he continues with his speach "For you, I will learn fast, but you may have to help me if you want this to be pleasurable."

Putting my hand out questioning him with my eyes I smile, tentatively at first but it slowly changes to one of seduction.

"You well not have to worry so, I am stronger then most and do not need you to curb your desires, I myself desire and equal, one who I can not control, one who does as he pleases to me, one who knows no bounds."

Taking his hand in mine I slowly rise from the chaise, my lithe form moving with the grace only years of battle can instill in one.

"Help me to disrobe." I smile at him, knowing that he could feel the tension between us.

 

[BadForm]

I moved quickly, grasping her around the head to pull her into a wild kiss. Still she was ready for me when I moved. We pressed hard together, so fierce we were almost grinding our teeth together. Our tongues mashed, fighting like the gladiators we were. My free hand tugged lose the buckles holding her jerkin closed. Without removing it I thrust my hand underneath, reaching up to grasp her breast. Her hand caught my wrist as I closed over the hardening nipple. She didn't pull me away, but pulled my hand tighter to her. It was animalistic, wild.

This wasn't loving passion. It wasn't what I'd heard from the women I'd overheard. This was more like the rape I'd committed... except, except it wasn't rape. It wasn't just that she'd told me to take her, to do what I wanted, it was that I doubted I could assault her even if I tried. I was one of the best combatants living, but she was in a class of her own. She'd schooled me in her "little arena" and now she was watching me as we opened ourselves to each other.

I pulled out of the kiss and finished pulling off her jerkin. My hands grasped the fine cloth she wore under the leather armor and I ripped it open. At once my mouth was on her breast. She wanted me. I wanted her. I may not know what I was doing, but she was responding.

 

[prissy_kytten]

When his lips touched mine, I kissed him more fiercely then I ever had before, there was a need in that a kiss a need to be had, a need to be taken, this was my gladiator, my savoiur.

When my armour fell to his skillful hands i did naught to stop him, in fact I encouraged him to explore my body.

The tearing of the fine material did nothing more then encourage my own animal behavoir. When his lips found my breast, I held him there making him suck me into his mouth.

My hands now wondering over him, the clothing he had cast aside did not bare him enough for my wondering hands to touch him as I wanted to.

Removing the rest of his clothes while not breaking the contact between his mouth and my breast I grasped his cock in my hand firmly, pumpong my hand up and down.

Pushing him off me and onto the chaise I dropped to my knees, taking him into my mouth devouring him with my mouth as my nails raked down his chest, this was a battle unlike any I had ever fought before, it was a battel of wills where there would be two victors.

As i continued to suck and lick himI felt his hands in my hair, felt him drag me by the hair up his toned chisled body.

Whatever he had in mind was not much different then what I did I allwoed myself to be drug up to his mouth for another fierce kiss.

What was happening between us was purely instinct, purely animalistic, and I could not get enough.

 

[BadForm]

Back and forth the power flowed. When she took me in my mouth it was her time to ascend. I felt myself claimed by her, owned by her like no so-called "master" had ever owned me before. It was glorious, and though possessed I felt free for the first time in my life. When I grasped her hair and pulled her up to me it was my turn to take her. That she was on top of me made no difference to the power flow. It was my turn and in carnal vigor I took her mouth, sucking a lip into mine and biting softly before turning it into a deep kiss once more.

I have no idea how or when her greaves and pants were removed, all I knew was that suddenly we were naked and tangled together. Hand on breast, thigh rubbing against cock, like the claws and teeth of two savage beasts in a combat to the death we loved each other. I could not speak for her but for me I felt years fall away. The pain, the disappointment, the longing from birth ran out of me like water from a seive leaving me hollow and ready for her essence to fill me.

And then it began. I stood with her in my arms. Her legs wrapped around my body. I leaned against the wall for stability and raised her ass slightly with one arm. Our eyes locked.

Everything was still, silent. There was only the moment, only our carnal souls. For a moment we weren't even physical beings, perhaps not even separate beings. We just were.

I lowered her onto my cock and whispered. "Keira... fuck me."

 

[prissy_kytten]

My clothes fell away and there was nothing but flesh on flesh, mouth on mouth, and a savage almost animalistic mating. As I felt him full and hard against my thigh a moan or more a growl escaped my lips.

There had been a power shift in the last few minutes, even though i was on the top I could tell that my gladiator had taken control of our pace.

When he lifted me up leaning against the wall, my body quivered with an excitement i had never felt before, not in battle, not in bed, it was a feeling that was like not other, one I had longed to feel for years but that none but he could give me.

As he slid me down his cock I heard him say "Keira... fuck me."

Those whispered words were all it took, looking him in the eyes I placed my hands on his shoulders, wrapped my legs around his waist and begun to rock my hips with sure quick thrust, my pelvis, mashing his pelvis, taking quarter, giving no mercy.

Our hips met and fell apart, met and fell apart, my nails dug into to his back, my mouth latched onto his shoulder, biting hard, the moans viberating in the back of my throat.

"Oh yeah, god, give it to me." I say as I feel the passion take over my body, feel the tremmers start deep within my core.

 

[BadForm]

Her moans were music, deep and throbbing. The wetness that spread from her insides over me was like the paint of creation. I no longer felt like me. I felt something indescribable. It was like being carnal flesh and sacred spirit at once, two things I'd been separated from for as long as I could recall.

She spoke; begging, ordering me to give it to her as hard as I could and I lifted her with my arms to emphasize her own motions on my cock. The pounding was both painful and sensual. My balls tightened, contracted as I felt the tightness of her squeeze me. The orgasm came suddenly. My eyes rolled upwards. I screamed a bestial scream that transcended into a song of pure joy. I felt myself jerk inside her once, twice, three times. Each time I crushed her body against mine and gasped aloud with passion. Her own screams increased as her words turned into incomprehensible meaning. And we joined as our fluids mixed.

My legs weakened suddenly as the power of the orgasm left me. For long moments my mind was only half within the world and I barely felt myself slide down across the wall until I was a crumpled heap beneath her. As my cock softened slowly she rode me further. My flesh was supersensitive in the post-orgasmic cooling and the friction of her pussy burned me. I didn't cry, I wanted the pain. And then she was cumming too. Her nails raked my chest like the talons of a predator ripping its prey as she surrendered to her body's quakes.

"Keira," I gasped. "Keira... Keira..."

As she too weakened she lay on top of me.

 

[prissy_kytten]

I feel the pounding as my gladiator, my one equal begins to shutter with his orgasm, my pussy tightens around him begging for the seed he spews fourth.

I feel his thrusts, deep and sure, one, two, three. The power of his climax brings me so close to my own, my body moves of its own accord, as he crumples to the floor beneath my lithe form.

I ride him, so where it he back of my mind I shoudl know he was sensative, that what i was doing might do him more harm then good but I could not stop.

I rake my nails down his chest as the waves of my orgasm wash over me like a sun bathed beach, waves crashing on the rocky shore nothing but momentary bliss adn a waves of warmth followed by deliscious chills.

Weak from the climax I let myself fall into his arms, my head resting on his shoulder, my breathing laboured.

I press my lips to his chest, basking in the after glow enjoying the feel of the rise and fall while his heart hammers beneath the surface. A beat that seems to be so intune with my own.

I begin to run my hand slowly, leisurely up and down his sweat slicked side, down his hip, and back up again. Still not wanting to move i lie there his juices mixed with mine, his soft member still nestled within me.

 

[BadForm]

We took each other three more times that evening, each time becoming longer and longer as my body became less able to produce the orgasm she sought to tear from me. Between those times we held each other and savored the scent and feeling of sex. At times we napped, lying on top of each other or grasping each other's body. I don't think we broke contact once. Then we were too tired to carry on further. I was satiated, satisfied for the first time in my life. I believe she may have been too.

We lay a while and gently caressed each other's body, staying away from the obvious erogenous zones now our passions had subsided. I thought about what she would have me do, about her business and the desire to free gladiators. An unfamiliar question formed in my mind: Why? I was a what and how man, focussed on my objective and the method of achieving it. I didn't care why things happened. That had been the way I'd lived for as long as I could remember, but she inspired a different level of thinking, a questioning of reasons and motives, a need for understanding.

"Why?" I asked softly.

"Hmmm?"

"Why? Why do you free gladiators? Why did you free me? None of us have earned it. The arena is filled with challenges you have no option in, not those you face through bravery. So it can't be that we've proven ourselves to you. And I know you are too intelligent to think you can end the games by freeing individual gladiators. Even if you freed a thousand, ten thousand, they would extend the penalty to lower crimes. The organisers and the stable-owners have too much invested and the crowds love the games too much. They will never let them end. So... why?"

I gazed deeply into her eyes and watched her as she answered.

(OOC: Sorry for not having written yesterday, was dealing with health issues and wanted to formulate a worthwhile response to the post-coital moments).