A Gladiator for Saturnalia

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**Terms to remember: Rudis ~ double weighted wooden sword used for training, awarded upon retirement; Stola ~ A dress of a matron; Lanista ~ owner or manager of a ludus; Ludus ~ a gladiatorial school; Synthesis ~ a colorful decorative gown worn by both Roman men and women for; Patrician ~ the highest caste in Rome of the privileged, noble families; Not sure I have “domina” right but half of my inspiration was from media while the rest I did research.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Julia sat in her bedchamber, gripping her blue stola as her nerves danced on edge. She took a sip of wine… then a gulp to steady her nerves. Tonight she was going to do what she needed. Her husband Marcus, a lanista of one of Rome’s finest Ludus, had been distant of late. She had given him a beautiful daughter but what he craved was a son to inherit his gladiatorial school. For the past 7 years Julia had failed but a friend made an improper yet sound suggestion.

“You live in a house full of virile young men,” said Marcella. “Why not put one of them to good use?”

“Marcella,” Julia admonished. “Are you suggesting I be unfaithful to my husband? With a slave??”

“I thought I was being clear?” Marcella smirked. She yawned and stretched as a house slave fanned her. A fly rested on her arm at which she swatted but it swiftly evaded her only to buzz in her ear. “I don’t know how you can stand this heat it’s unbearable! And the flies! I woke in the middle of the night almost choked by the heat.”

Julia’s face flushed with indignity. Men were unfaithful of course. She was taught that all of her life and for Marcella to suggest such a thing was…

“Oh don’t be such a prude, Julia,” Marcella grunted. “Even an Empress of Rome can have a bit of fun once in a while.”

“I’m no empress,” Julia snapped.

“You’re definitely prettier than the one we have now.”

Julia’s throat tightened. She heard the banging of the rudis against each other in the training yard. She looked over to see all of her husband’s gladiators partnered up and sparring. Their bronzed muscles grew taut and gleamed in the sun with the sweat of their labors. Julia would have been lying if she hadn’t thought about it. She sometimes imagined, shamefully, in the bath that one of those strong brutes came and ravished her. Pressing her soft body against their battle hardened muscles…

“Marcus and I can have a son all on our own,” Julia vehemently swore.

“Haven’t you been trying the past 7 years?” Marcella wondered. Julia grew silent. Three years ago their efforts almost came to fruition. A boy. A beautiful yet small boy that lived for a week before dying. And lately she had been hearing Marcus may be thinking of divorce. He had been having secret meetings with her father and visiting with other patrician women.

“If anything at least you’ll have some fun,” Marcella shrugged, watching her friend softly.

So here was Julia, waiting for her gladiator to save her from ruin though if anyone found out about this then she would be more than ruined… Her body slave Judith led the house champion to her room through a secret passageway that not even Marcus knew about for he had inherited it from a distant uncle and never visited here. This villa was old and when Julia first came here she had spent a month of exploring.

Atticus was a rough Celt, brutish yet a finely sculpted man the gods must have taken their time with him. He had a cleft chin with sensual lips added with his savage physique made all the women in the stands moist whenever he walked into the arena. Unlike most of the gladiators, Atticus kept his hair long and wild to his broad shoulders. He had a few braids to keep him tied to his tribal savage roots. It shouldn’t have had Julia’s womb clenching in desire but…

Atticus wore nothing but a collar to signify his slave status as well as a cloth to hide his… manhood. Julia had never seen another naked man before. Marcus barely undressed for their love making (if one could call rutting for 3 minutes love making). The Celt’s bronzed muscles gleamed with oil, she could smell his musk along with scented oils coming off him in waves making her tremble.

“Thank you, Judith,” Julia took another gulp of wine to fortify herself. “You may leave us.” The wine burned in her throat warming her belly as heat crept into her face. Her body slave left them with her eyes downcast leaving Julia alone with Atticus. The night ambience filled the silence as the air became thick with some sort of tension that made Julia weak in the knees.

“Domina,” Atticus spoke softly. “You wished to see me?” His voice was rough like grating stones but deep and rich. When he roared in the arena the whole earth seemed to tremble. He was so reserved and subdued with a touch of arrogance that could not be whipped away. It had Julia’s heart fluttering. She shook her head to snap herself out of it. She straightened up, taking on the mantle of mistress.

“I need you to perform a task for me,” Julia wrung her hands drawing bahis firmaları up every ounce of authority she could muster.

“I am happy to serve, domina,” Atticus nodded.

“Do you have many siblings, Atticus? Brothers in particular?” Julia cleared her throat.

“I have 4 brothers, domina.”

“And how many brothers did your father have?”

“Six, domina.”

Perfect. She chose well. Julia would definitely conceive a son for her husband and he won’t divorce her.

“Remove your clothes,” Julia instructed. She saw the glimmer of a smirk on the gladiator’s face. She held back her ire. Tonight was about duty. “I need you to help me conceive a son for my husband. We have been trying for years now but the last time…” Julia paused, her throat tight with the sudden wave of sorrow. She swallowed it hard then steeled herself for what was to come.

It was only when she lay on the bed and saw the gladiator in all his glory did she pause. That appendage between his mighty legs was a serpent, she could see the veins pulsing on the thick length. Julia’s blush reached to her breasts and her stomach clenched in desire. Will it hurt? She realized that Atticus was smirking at her befuddlement. The patrician woman’s lovely pink lips compressed into a contentious line.

“Let’s get this over with,” Julia huffed raising her skirts over her thighs then her shapely hips. The sight of her patch of dark curls made the gladiator’s serpent twitch. Julia laid back, legs spread, bracing herself for the coming onslaught.

“As you wish, domina,” Atticus’s voice became husky, heavy with sudden desire. The gladiator settled himself between the high lady’s spread thighs. He stroked himself to stiffen his cock which grew fat with the blood rushing to it. Julia closed her eyes ready for the pain. Would it be like her wedding night? She was only 15 and had never known a man’s touch or seen a man’s cock. Her husband was gentle and quick. This should be just as fast.

Yet Atticus took his time, first teasing her folds getting her moist. Julia bit her lip as small tendrils of heat raced up her spine. His shaft then coated itself in her juices before slowly pushing its way inside her. Julia released a soft gasp of surprise as Atticus stretched her inner walls. He groaned at her tightness.

Julia gripped the sheet beneath her as she felt the pressure between her hips increase. She groaned softly despite herself while more small hot tingly sensations spread through her body. He filled her up like Marcus never did.

Atticus was slow at first careful not to split her open. He pressed deeper into Julia wanting to plant himself inside her. He had had patrician cunt before but this woman had a softness to her that the others lacked.

Even through her stola he could see her nipples poke against the fabric. He wanted to bury himself between her lovely breasts that looked soft and smelled so fragrant. Atticus wanted to take one of those small nubs into his mouth and nibble on it, make his mistress whimper but he controlled himself. He was usually bold and his hesitation surprised him. He reminded himself that this was his master’s wife. Boldness would not be rewarded.

Atticus rotated his hips slightly, the head of his cock teasing her g-spot. Julia expected this encounter to be more… formal; more business-like. Yet her body betrayed her as it gave itself over to the passion Atticus began to awaken within her.

She felt his cock pulsate and thicken within her. As he began to thrust deeper Julia’s hips reacted instinctively meeting him for each thrust while her legs wrapped around his narrow waist, drawing him in deeper. Yet she kept her hands twisting the sheets to stop her from encircling him in her passionate grasp.

The gladiator grunted as Julia wrapped her legs around him. He made hungry sounds in the back of his throat, straining his body and mind against the rush that was building within him. He wanted to give Julia pleasure. Even under the scent of her perfume Atticus could smell her need.

Atticus was up to his stem, Julia holding him like a hot velvet trap. Her muscles squeezed on his cock as he pulled out then pushed back in, the pressure made him groan with joy. Atticus bucked his hips more frantically. His musk surrounded Julia like a fog, clouding her senses making her forget the reason she called for him. Julia kept her eyes closed so tight she could see colors while the pressure within her built. Heat coiled in her womb then exploded in a white hot wave.

Julia gave out a small cry of passion. Her body spasmed feeling Atticus’s hot breath caressing her neck as he rode her. He smelled her flowery perfume and it made his cock jerk. Yet he hadn’t finished his task. He felt himself very close to the edge as he gave one more brutal thrust, shooting his seed into her wanting womb.

Julia shuddered from the force of her orgasm and the feeling of Atticus’s manhood still pulsing hard within her, her muscles milking him of all of his seed. She kept her legs locked kaçak iddaa around him until her muscles grew tired and melted into pools on her bed.

“Did I please you, domina?” Atticus whispered hoarsely into her ear making Julia tremble with shameful delight. His lips brushed her ear and Julia had to stop herself from wrapping her arms around his strong neck and claiming his lips with her mouth.

“Yes…,” she said softly. “Hopefully the gods will smile upon me and bless me with a son.” Atticus grew soft then slipped out of his mistress and covered himself. He was escorted back down to his cell still smelling of flowers and Julia’s love juices. Julia went to the bath trying to wash off the gladiator’s scent but the places his flesh touched hers still burned and nothing could wash them away.

* * * * * * * * * * *

The weeks had passed and Julia was still not with child. Damn it! But Julia wasn’t one to give up. She was the daughter of a Roman general and would sooner cut off her arm than admit defeat. Yet that meant another night with Atticus. Her cheeks burned and she began to feel a moist heat pool between her thighs as tingles ran up and down her spine.

The scent of sand, leather and sweat filled her senses. Every time she caught a whiff of the training arena Julia’s skin percolated with heat and she would sigh dreamily. When Atticus was brought to her Julia tried to look domineering while a storm of lust raged within her.

“I will not have you look at me,” Julia snapped. “The midwives said this position is the best way to conceive a boy.” Julia turned around, lifting her skirts up over her hips then bending over and presented her womanhood to the expectant gladiator.

“As you wish, domina,” Atticus unclothed himself. Julia could practically hear his smug grin. He had far too much pride for a slave. She should have him beaten.

Atticus stroked the small of Julia’s back giving her shivers. He stroked the roundness of her arse as he pressed against her, his firm cock nestled in the valley of her cheeks. Like before, Atticus teased the patrician woman running his shaft along her lips to get her ready for him. Julia’s loins quivered, getting wet with expectation.

Julia felt the length of Atticus’s manhood run along her nether lips biting her lip to fight against the erotic sensations rising within her. The heat of his flesh against hers was a scorching ecstasy, making her alive as if struck by lightning. She whimpered in bliss. She felt the head of his shaft rub against her rosebud sending a jolt of pleasure to her womb.

“Well get on with it, gladiator,” despite the command Julia spoke breathlessly, her voice throaty, sensual.

“Apologies, domina,” Atticus smirked. “It is easier if a woman is wet enough.” Julia could hear the amusement in his voice which sparked anger within her. Then she felt him fill her slowly, her anger becoming mute. Julia ground her teeth as pulses of heat throbbed within her. Atticus had a firm, soft grip on her hips as he thrusted. Gentle thrusts at first as he probed deeper inside of her. Atticus felt her velvet heat tighten around him, trapping him happily within her folds as the scent of her arousal filled his nostrils.

Waves of heat pulsed from her core, tension coiling in her abdomen. Julia’s hips began to bruise from Atticus’s rough hands as he increased the speed and pressure of his thrusts. She listened to him groan and grunt like an animal. She could feel his cock swell inside of her as he built towards his climax.

Her own breath became labored. Then Atticus slowed down. He had been close to coming but pulled out achingly slow and before Julia could order him to continue he quickly plunged right back in. She felt his one hand press against her upper back bracing himself as he began to pound her again. By some spell of madness Julia couldn’t stop herself from playing with her swollen pearl of pleasure as Atticus beat into her.

Julia began to meet the gladiator’s thrusts, rubbing her clit while spikes of ecstasy stabbed her nerve endings. Soon mewls and moans began spilling from her lips like sweet water. Atticus let out a growl feeling the patrician woman milk him as he reached his crescendo. Julia’s orgasm started in the soles of her feet then spread into a white hot flash that consumed her being. Atticus’s hot seed shot into her womb, she could feel it gushing as his manhood pulsated inside her.

Atticus collapsed forward, resting his forehead in Julia’s fragrant nape. They glowed in a sheen of sweat, panting from the passion, their bodies basking in their shared heat. Atticus couldn’t help himself, he brushed his lips and tongue against her skin tasting the salt of her sweat. The act made goosebumps bloom along her spine.

Yet Julia came down from the heavens returning to reality quickly, “Enough. You’ve done your duty.”

“I live to please you, domina.” The huskiness of his words made Julia’s heart skip like she was some lovesick calf. She didn’t even look at him as Judith led him back to his kaçak bahis cell. Julia took her time bathing. When she found her stola from her second night with Atticus she brought it up to her nose. She smelled the musk of her desire and the heat of Atticus combine sending a surge of pleasure to her clit that began to throb for him.

Realizing what she was doing Julia tossed the stola aside as if it were vermin. Her cheeks burned and shame and desire mingled hot in her throat as heat pooled in her loins.

* * * * * * * * *

Sex with her husband seemed stale now. Not that it was ever passionate but in comparison to the gladiator, fucking her husband Marcus was like fucking a cold fish. Marcus’s weak thrusts were nothing compared to the hot hard thrust of Atticus. Julia had never even kissed Atticus. She barely kissed her husband. The last time Marcus her was after dinner 5 months ago in goodnight.

Julia watched the gladiators train, the gleam of their sweat gave them a war-like glow. The patrician woman sat under the shade being fanned by house slaves as her husband talked business with expectant buyers and patrons.

Julia caught sight of Atticus training with a new slave. A fellow Celt. They used the wooden rudis, hitting each other with brute force as if they were already in the arena being cheered on by the blood thirsty crowd. She rested her chin in her palm, her pinky nail wandering to the corner of her mouth, stroking her bottom lip as her thoughts drifted back to last night. Atticus’s male heat hard between her soft thighs.

Her body simmered with the memory of his body pressed to hers as fire raced from her core to spread all over her body. Julia watched Atticus’s perfectly sculpted muscles gleam in the harsh summer sun. They flexed with every thrust of his rudis clashing it against his opponent who couldn’t withstand the lethal swiftness of the more experienced gladiator’s swings.

“Is it true that a vial of sweat or blood from a gladiator will cure illness?” asked a patrician noble.

“I hear the blood can be used to stir a man and woman’s passion,” winked the patrician’s wife. The couple and everyone on the balcony chuckled in amusement.

“I do not need to rely on aphrodisiacs,” said a patrician.

“My blue black thighs can attest to that,” chuckled his wife. “I’m not safe even when he sleeps. He just rolls over snoring and has his way with me.” Everyone laughed uproariously.

Julia recalled the heat of Atticus’s palms as they held tightly onto her hips. She hoped she could hide the bruises. She recalled the slap of his scrotum and his hard thighs against her with each savage thrust. She felt a tremor of joy. Closing her eyes she felt the ache grow within her loins. When she opened her eyes she noticed Atticus looking at her with the same hunger that she felt.

His opponent saw this as an opportunity and tried to attack but Atticus was far too experienced and instead knocked the new recruit into the sand with a broken nose. The younger gladiator kicked up a cloud of dust as blood trickled from his nose onto the sand. Atticus stole one more look at Julia with a smug smirk that made her want to whip him while her womb clenched with lust.

“You alright, my love?” Marcus showed some concern but mostly he seemed annoyed at being interrupted in his business.

Julia jumped in her seat at her husband’s voice. Everyone was watching her. Heat crept into her cheeks causing a flush to spread to her breasts. She had returned to the real world, blinking and alert trying to reassess her surroundings as one did when waking from a tranquil dream.

“It is only the heat,” Julia stood up feeling Atticus’s eyes intensely upon her. “I shall go inside.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

That night Julia sent for the gladiator. Her body slave, Judith, led Atticus up the secret passage way. Julia sat on her bed wearing a loose aqua stola. His eyes caressed her every curve with invisible lusting fingers. The creamy swell of her breast rose and fell with her steady yet slightly irritated breathing. She scowled at the smug gladiator while dismissing Judith. He couldn’t hide his smirk no matter how small.

“You should not stare at me so boldly, gladiator,” Julia fumed.

“Have I displeased you, domina?” Atticus tilted his head to the side like a curious bird. It made Julia boil. He then held his eyes downcast muttering, “Apologies.”

“I should have you beaten for your insolence,” Julia snapped.

“Then who will give you your pleasure, domina?”

“There are plenty of gladiators who would count themselves lucky to have my favor!”

Atticus bowed his head then sank to his knees in submission. “Forgive me, domina. I only seek to serve you.” Julia took out a knife from her plate holding a peach that she was just eating.

Julia walked over to the kneeling gladiator with the blade gleaming in the fire light like an evil wink at the warrior. She stalked around him admiring his muscular yet lean form. His long sandy colored hair with it’s few braids. His broad shoulders and white scars decorating his back and chest and arms. His body was oiled and fragrant though still held the scent of sand and sweat from the training yard.

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