from the
cheap neighboring bathhouses ran underneath the seats in order to
wash away the waste. This made a trip to the toilet a very public
event, but at least it was not an unbearably smelly one. Octavia
was followed by one of her slaves whose job was to hand her a sea
sponge fastened to the end of a stick when she was ready to wipe
herself. The slave would then clean the sponge with vinegar,
readying it for the next use.
Octavia returned to her seat just as the
Colosseum band began the fanfare that announced the next match.
According to the program guide that she had bought for what she
considered an exorbitant price, the next match featured a very
popular gladiator, Ursus Helarctos, against three lesser-known
combatants.
Idly, Octavia wondered why they called the
gladiator the “Sun Bear”. She supposed it was because he was one of
those hairy brutes from the northernmost part of the world. Then
again, it could be some sort of crude sexual innuendo she didn’t
know about. She watched, slightly bored, as the first three men
were paraded into the arena and were hyped to the skies. Finally,
the Sun Bear himself strode out onto the sand.
Octavia lost her breath.
The Sun Bear’s visage was largely obscured by
his helmet, but his body was so beautiful she didn’t care if he had
a face like a catfish. Gladiators, aptly nicknamed “barley-men”,
ate mostly grain so that that they would have extra fat around
their midsections to protect their organs from wayward blows. Most
fighters were therefore stocky, with muscle definition visible only
in their massive arms and legs. The Sun Bear was different. He
closely resembled the Greek ideal, like the statues of gods and
heroes but on a much larger scale. His torso was incredibly
muscular, with a belly ridged like an alligator’s. The exposed skin
of his broad shoulders and long legs was bronzed from the sun. His
pale hair, long compared to the proper length of a man’s hair, lay
over his shoulders and extended from the bottom of his protective
headgear. He also sported hair on his chest, a marked contrast to
the depilated fashion for Roman men.
He was magnificent.
It was more than just his
incredible looks that sent a thunderbolt of desire shooting down
her stomach to bring her nethers rapidly to life. There was an
indefinable something that made him stand out, that made him so
appealing to her. Perhaps it was the way he moved with the
confidence of a barbarian king. Perhaps it was the way he grinned
at his opponents when he brought them down, as if he were enjoying
a little game and hoped that no one was too upset by a broken arm
or a foot long gash on the thigh. Octavia didn’t know what it was about him, but
she knew she wanted him inside her, thrusting into her until she
came screaming. Apollo's balls, she had become soaking wet
just thinking about
it.
“Aemilia?”
“Hmmm?”, her friend replied, still intent on
watching the Sun Bear defeat the last of his challengers while the
crowd howled with excitement.
“Him. I want him .”
That got Aemilia’s
attention, and she whipped her head around to gawk at Octavia.
“Seriously? You want him ? The Sun Bear? That savage?”
“Yes.”
Aemilia arched her eyebrow.
“He is one of the most popular gladiators in the city, my friend.
He has a dozen men and women waiting in litters or hired chairs
outside the amphitheater each night desperate for a chance to
shower him with gold in exchange for his cock. He has always had
his pick of — shall we call them, sponsors? -- and is notorious for
walking away from them if they asked too much of him. Now, it’s
even harder to get him, because he has bought his freedom. As a
liberti he can do as he chooses and sadly he no longer chooses
to do anyone. No
one has been able to get him for more than a year! And then there’s
the fact that a bull his size is so strong that he might
accidentally tear you a new hole if his aim is off. But him, he is the one you want to
have slap
cheap neighboring bathhouses ran underneath the seats in order to
wash away the waste. This made a trip to the toilet a very public
event, but at least it was not an unbearably smelly one. Octavia
was followed by one of her slaves whose job was to hand her a sea
sponge fastened to the end of a stick when she was ready to wipe
herself. The slave would then clean the sponge with vinegar,
readying it for the next use.
Octavia returned to her seat just as the
Colosseum band began the fanfare that announced the next match.
According to the program guide that she had bought for what she
considered an exorbitant price, the next match featured a very
popular gladiator, Ursus Helarctos, against three lesser-known
combatants.
Idly, Octavia wondered why they called the
gladiator the “Sun Bear”. She supposed it was because he was one of
those hairy brutes from the northernmost part of the world. Then
again, it could be some sort of crude sexual innuendo she didn’t
know about. She watched, slightly bored, as the first three men
were paraded into the arena and were hyped to the skies. Finally,
the Sun Bear himself strode out onto the sand.
Octavia lost her breath.
The Sun Bear’s visage was largely obscured by
his helmet, but his body was so beautiful she didn’t care if he had
a face like a catfish. Gladiators, aptly nicknamed “barley-men”,
ate mostly grain so that that they would have extra fat around
their midsections to protect their organs from wayward blows. Most
fighters were therefore stocky, with muscle definition visible only
in their massive arms and legs. The Sun Bear was different. He
closely resembled the Greek ideal, like the statues of gods and
heroes but on a much larger scale. His torso was incredibly
muscular, with a belly ridged like an alligator’s. The exposed skin
of his broad shoulders and long legs was bronzed from the sun. His
pale hair, long compared to the proper length of a man’s hair, lay
over his shoulders and extended from the bottom of his protective
headgear. He also sported hair on his chest, a marked contrast to
the depilated fashion for Roman men.
He was magnificent.
It was more than just his
incredible looks that sent a thunderbolt of desire shooting down
her stomach to bring her nethers rapidly to life. There was an
indefinable something that made him stand out, that made him so
appealing to her. Perhaps it was the way he moved with the
confidence of a barbarian king. Perhaps it was the way he grinned
at his opponents when he brought them down, as if he were enjoying
a little game and hoped that no one was too upset by a broken arm
or a foot long gash on the thigh. Octavia didn’t know what it was about him, but
she knew she wanted him inside her, thrusting into her until she
came screaming. Apollo's balls, she had become soaking wet
just thinking about
it.
“Aemilia?”
“Hmmm?”, her friend replied, still intent on
watching the Sun Bear defeat the last of his challengers while the
crowd howled with excitement.
“Him. I want him .”
That got Aemilia’s
attention, and she whipped her head around to gawk at Octavia.
“Seriously? You want him ? The Sun Bear? That savage?”
“Yes.”
Aemilia arched her eyebrow.
“He is one of the most popular gladiators in the city, my friend.
He has a dozen men and women waiting in litters or hired chairs
outside the amphitheater each night desperate for a chance to
shower him with gold in exchange for his cock. He has always had
his pick of — shall we call them, sponsors? -- and is notorious for
walking away from them if they asked too much of him. Now, it’s
even harder to get him, because he has bought his freedom. As a
liberti he can do as he chooses and sadly he no longer chooses
to do anyone. No
one has been able to get him for more than a year! And then there’s
the fact that a bull his size is so strong that he might
accidentally tear you a new hole if his aim is off. But him, he is the one you want to
have slap
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