Arena Shifters (A Paranormal Romance Novel)

by Evans, Casey

  The Ecstasy and the Agony

  * * * * *

  Two female slaves, Flavia and Dionya lay in the dark recesses of the cell, barely lit by a couple flickering candles. It wasn’t often that they got any time to themselves and they weren’t about to waste it.

  The very moment the Flavia’s breath touched her delicate flower, it sent ripples of pleasure shooting up through her body like some lightening rod that just got lit up for the first time. Warm breath gave way to heated lips and hot tongue exploring places even her fingers had not dared touch. When the ecstasy of the moment licked the recesses of her brain not yet dusted, it was blast off.

  A primal scream of pure pleasure was ripped from Dionya as her lover’s tongue drank her fill. For Flavia it was like drinking from the fountain of youth. When she tasted the girl’s cum, and inhaled her sweet scent she knew it would keep her young forever and she drank like a desperate woman on the verge of death who’d just discovered the river of life.

  The much younger slave, Dionya thrust her hips up to meet her lover’s mouth feverishly wishing the woman could enter her, possess her, and never never stop. With both hands she grabbed the other’s head, pulling her down into her thighs and driving her hips upwards. Sweat poured off her body mixing with the saliva dripping from the other’s mouth as she knelt on the altar of her body and worshiped her sex.

  Suddenly there a screech and a clang as her cell door was thrown open. Her eyes flew open in surprise. Standing in the doorway was the Dominus, and at his side, one of his most repulsive slaves, known only as bone. The enormous slave looked over at his Master mouthing a question.

  “They’re your reward. When you are sated return to me for the rest of your reward.”

  Bone said nothing more and walked over to the lovers who although remaining in the same position, had frozen in place. Bone walked over to Dionya and dropped his subligaculum. She looked up as the head of an enormous cock dangled just inches from her open mouth. The man stood still for a moment, then grunted and passed gas. The instant the noxious smell reached her mouth and nose, her stomach began its revolt. She clamped her mouth shut and swallowed the bile. From the corners of her eyes she could see her Master watching her and waiting and she knew her life, and that of her friends depended on these next few seconds, but she could not bring herself to open her mouth. She heard a displeasing grunt, and knew Dominus was losing his patience.

  Then she felt a tongue flick across her sex, sending a pleasing jolt up through her body. It was as if Flavia understood what was going through her mind and was trying to help. Dionya forced herself to focus on her friends loving mouth and her quivering pussy. In the end it was the first hint of orgasm that pried her lips apart for the Bone’s monstrous cock. The moment her lips parted he pressed the head to her mouth, then groaned as she sucked it in.

  Over ripe milk, and moldy cheese would have been a more welcome taste than the Bones rock hard organ as he began to shove it in with alacrity. It was the embodiment of that ancient Oriental philosophy, Yin and Yang, the agony of the Bone’s repulsive member and the ecstasy of her lover who knew just how to wind her up and make her sing. Waves of orgasms rocked her body as she gaged and choked on the gargantuan cock in her mouth. Bone skull fucked her for all he was worth. Somewhere in his pea brain he must have known this was gonna be his first and last time dallying in the forbidden flesh of youth. Even as his cock began to throb and spew his filthy load, he was relieved of his miserable life as the Lanista’s blade severed his spinal cord at the base of his skull. Blood and semen became one as he fell backwards yanking his still spewing member out of Dionya’s mouth, spraying the girls in the throes of death.

  When the first splash of hot blood bathed Dionya’s face, it took a few seconds to process what was happening. Even as Dominus withdrew the red, dripping blade from the Bone’s corpse she could not believe it was happening. A retching noise caught her attention. Flavia was vomiting on the ground next to the body of the Bone. In all of two seconds Dionya added to the mess of blood, semen, and vomit.

  Satisfied, Dominus gave a loud whistle and two slaves appeared with buckets of water and rags. Two others hurried in and began to remove the enormous body of Bone the slave and gladiator. Dominus smiled grimly. Word of this would get out to the others quickly. It would be the last time a gladiator overstepped his bounds.

  * * * * *

  CHAPTER EIGHT:

  Unwelcome Information

  * * * * *

  Petronia lay on her pallet trembling despite the current heat wave. If what she’d just stumbled upon, if there was any truth to it at all, trouble was brewing; in fact it was boiling over. The House of Gaius Gracchus Tiberius was near enough to Savona, the closest city, that it gave the dwellers here a false sense of security. It was also far away enough that should a serious problem arise, like a revolt, it would take some time before any help, once marshalled, would arrive.

  The general consensus among slaves, if you had to be a slave somewhere, the House of Tiberius was one of the better places to be enslaved; especially for a house belonging to a Lanista (one who trains gladiators). A gladiator’s life was one of a brutal existence, and only the top fighters lived for any length of time. But that was what the life of the gladiator was all about; glory and death in the arena. It was what they all lived for, and an early death was expected. There was the odd story of a slave being freed following an unusually decorated long career in the arena. Everyone knew the story of the Carthag who was given his freedom following what was to be his last battle, ending in a glorious death. To everyone’s amazement, and on the heels of some particularly crafty political maneuvering, after winning the battle he was given his freedom from slavery. He would have to carry the rudis with him wherever he went so he would not be mistaken for an escaped slave; not that it was likely given the amount of fame that surrounded his name.

  Some time, years before the slave Spartacus and his brothers escaped, a new law was enacted to stem the tide of rebellion that was sweeping Rome at that time. Anytime a slave tried to escape, that slave, as well as every other slave in the same house, were automatically put to death. It was usually done in spectacle in the arena, but some chose to take care of the matter quietly in their own homes. After several prominent houses had put to death their entire households in the arena, the number of attempts to escape were a fraction of what they used to be. Some of the poorer houses did not follow the exact letter of the law and only punished the ones trying to escape rather than everyone as the cost to replace an entire household of slaves was costly. For the most part, the law was followed, especially among the prominent houses like that of the House of Tiberius. There was little doubt in the slave’s minds that should any one of them try to escape, they’d all lose their lives. Before the law came into effect, there was no such thing of slaves policing themselves, but now sometimes slaves caught and punished their own to keep them from all losing their heads.

  And with those dark thoughts in Petronia’s head, she lay on her sleeping pallet shaking in fear. Here is what she heard. In order for an escape to work it had to have outside help. For a slave to communicate with the outside world, escaped slaves, it was very difficult. There was a slave that had escaped from her Villa, a young female, and it was known that the Lanista was very interested in her being brought back home alive. The plan was she would get herself captured and returned to Gaius who would of course use her as his personal plaything until he tired of her and had her killed. She of course would be returning to the House with the escape plans and the ability to coordinate everything from the inside. At the proper time, a couch would arrive at the Villa filled with escaped slaves. The coach was one of the ones taken when the Lanista’s caravan has been attacked several months ago. Riding in the coach were 10 well armed slaves, along with a driver who had been spared on the night of the attack. Without him driving the coach they would never get inside the walls of the Villa.

  Every slave of the House of Tiberius was invited
to escape of course because any slaves left behind would be executed. During the battle 2 other coaches would be brought up to the gates for the purposes of loading up the salves and any captives should they want any. To Petronia it seemed like a good plan. Probably had just as much a chance of succeeding as in failing. An escape with a 50% chance of success was pretty high as escape attempts usually went. So why was she thinking of siding with her Masters?

  She wished she hadn’t ever heard of the attempt, and doubly wished it hadn’t come from her trusted friend Albinia. Albinia would be one of the ones who would be escaping. As a rule, in any mass escape attempt like this one, only those who really needed to know were told. The more that knew, the better chance that someone would get drunk and in a moment of weakness let it slip to the wrong person at the wrong time. As she lay there tossing and turning she recalled the conversation yesterday. Albinia had approached her late that night, after coaxing a guard to let her out of her cell for fifteen minutes.

  Petronia woke to find someone whispering her name in the dark. It was her only friend Albinia.

  “Petronia…Petronia, wake up!” She hissed over and over until she finally woke her young friend up.

  “Albinia, what are you doing? How’d you get out?”

  “Never mind that. I just did a quick favor for that weirdo guard that’s on tonight. But I only ten minutes now because I wasted five trying to wake your sorry ass. Now listen up.”

  Albinia had told everything she knew about the escape attempt knowing full well that Petronia would be left out when it came to escaping. Being a female gladiator in a male world had not made Petronia popular. Especially since killing Cletus who was immensely popular among the gladiators as well as the other slaves. Then Petronia had saved the Lanista’s youngest son and that made everyone who didn’t already dislike her, not on her side now. And those who didn’t like her before the incident, well they plain hated her.

  Albinia promised to make sure Petronia was among those who escaped.

  So Petronia lay on her pallet tossing and turning while sounds of fucking, farting, and arguing filled the night air. Clearly she was not the only one who couldn’t sleep.

  The next morning Doctore let Petronia out to get her water for a morning bath before the men were let out. Otherwise she would have quite a company of admirers while she bathed. She was to present herself to the Domina for some task or something so she had to make herself presentable. After washing and donning a fresh tunic she began left the Ludis to wait for the Domina’s body slave to get her and take her to the Domita. She was waiting in the courtyard drinking in the sun and enjoying the feel of it on her skin when she sensed something was amiss.

  Instinctively she reached for her thigh dagger, the realized she’d left it with the Doctore. She would not be allowed to wear any weapons in the main Villa. As she stood, a shape to her left appeared to melt out of the shadows, a dagger in hand. She was in the center of the courtyard, a good 10 meters from any wall that she could put her back to when fighting. To her right, and straight in front of her appeared two more men. One had a dagger, and the other some sort of iron mallet like what was probably used by a smithy. They seemed in no hurry to do this which told her this was well planned and sanctioned by someone powerful; like the Domina maybe? But no, she had returned her son to her. No it was someone else who know of her early morning appointment. Probably a house guard or a body slave of the Dominus or the Domina. The three men approached as trained men would. Here she was a 110 pound female gladiatrix, unarmed, against 3 fighting men, possibly gladiators or just soldiers who were double her weight and were at least a foot taller than her. This was not going to go well.

  Every combat strategy she knew slipped into her mind and right back out after being dismissed as inadequate or not fitted to the situation at hand. The only thing that made sense was to attack first. Size matters little. Aggression is what really won the fight. Like that old saying, it’s not the size of the bear in the fight, but the size of the fight in the bear. She was that little bear with a grizzly bear of a fight in her body. She would kill at least one before going down herself.

  Almost the very instant she was to leap into battle a high pitched voice called her name.

  “Petronia!”

  It was the youngest son of Dominus.

  “Petronia, what are these men doing?”

  The second he had called her name the fighters began to slink back into the shadows. He had seen them, but maybe not their weapons.

  “Nothing Young Master.”

  He approached her looking at her quizzically. He looked around again for the other men but they were gone.

  “Those men…they were going to do something?”

  “I don’t know, Young Master.”

  “The men here…the other sla-…gladiators, they don’t much like you do they?”

  “No Young Master.”

  “It’s Lucius. You don’t have to call me that…Young Master.”

  “Yes I do.”

  “But you saved me. You could have let the…the other men take me and you could have gone free. You’re my fr-”

  “There you are!”

  “Father?”

  “What are you doing? Is that slave bothering you?”

  “No father, she was…she was just lost. I was showing her where to go.”

  “Lost?”

  “Yes father.”

  Dominus addressed Petronia. “We have other pressing matters slave. Domina will not be requiring your services this morning. You may return to the Ludis to resume your training.”

  “Yes Master.”

  “I assume you can find your way back by yourself?”

  “Yes Master.”

  “Dismissed.”

  “Yes Master.”

  She wanted to thank the boy but didn’t dare in front of the boy’s father. That would get him in trouble possibly, and it would almost assuredly earn her time at the whipping post. She bowed and left quickly, wondering if the men were still around there. They may have been around but no one approached her on the way back to the Ludis, but when they got there, it was a buzz with excitement. Apparently a patrol returning from a supply run had flushed out a lost, bewildered slave, the very one that had escaped some time ago. Petronia watched as the coach rolled into the compound. When the gates were shut the head guard for the House opened the back and out fell a female salve with a black hood on her head. Then several of the guards took the woman and strapped her arms to the whipping pole and she immediately slumped to her knees, too weak to stand any longer. When the Doctore came out and took a look at her, he immediately summoned the House physician and sent word to the Dominus.

  When the Dominus arrived, Doctore removed the woman’s hood and the other man smiled in triumph. “So the slave comes home!” he announced happily. He walked around her, inspecting her body. Clearly she was in bad shape.

  “Suddenly I find the need to relieve myself,” he announced loudly to those around him. Even before he brought out his member, it was clear what he was up to. “Anyone else need to relieve themselves? Feel free to join me.”

  Dominus positioned himself to where he could aim his stream right into the recaptured slaves face and proceeded to drain his bladder. His act of cruelty was immediately repeated by every male in the courtyard. To not follow his lead could be construed as an insult. When they were finished humiliating the slave girl he called the royal physician over to him. He was to take the unconscious slave to his quarters and make sure she lived until he decided how to take her life. If she died first he would have to replace her in her punishment. Having given his orders he left the Ludis.

  “Gladiators!” Roared the Doctore. “Resume your training.”

  For the rest of the morning it was clear Petronia’s mind wasn’t in the game and it earned her more than one lashing from Doctore. The other gladiators used her distraction to their advantage giving her an uncharacteristic beating before the day was half way over. At the end of the day
Petronia collapsed on her pallet without even bothering to eat or bathe. The woman, the escaped slave was here. That meant that the plans for the escape were in motion. She had to make a decision. Side with the other gladiators and fight for her freedom, or betray them and side with her Dominus. She really cared nothing for the other gladiators, and they cared nothing for her. But her beloved Albinia, if she escaped, who would she have? She would be all alone. As she lay there listening to the night sounds around her she came to one conclusion; there was no good choice. Either one was fraught with unbearable consequences.

  * * * * *

  CHAPTER NINE:

  My Bloody Ludis

  Two Weeks Later...

  * * * * *

  “Come in!”

  The curtains parted and in walked Flavia with a younger, new slave in tow.

  Dominus lay on his bed, luxuriating in its softness, anticipating deflowering the young delicate thing quaking before him. He looked over to Flavia, directing her to remove the girl’s clothing.

  “And her subligaculum too,” he said, as his body slave proceed to undress the girl.

  As the young girl’s tunic fell about her ankles, Gaius could feel his cock begin to grow appreciatively. She had a body to die for. She was a tiny thing, standing five foot at best, thin like he liked them, but not starving. Her silky skin was dark, and flawless. Clearly no one had ever taken a whip to her. Her perfectly symmetrical face betrayed her age. Clearly her ample chest and curvy hips suggested woman, but that innocent face, upturned nose, huge black eyes, suggested something entirely different.

  As his eyes traveled to her breasts, her drew aside the silks covering his rigid cock, and began to stroke his manhood. The girl’s sharp intake of breath told him everything he needed to know. Few girls were not surprised by the size of his member, and this one was no exception.

  He stroked himself lovingly, as dewy drops of his sticky fluid ran down his engorged head and over his fingers.