Seduced by the Gladiator(8)

The man gestured for me to follow him as he began to walk up that road. I did, my legs stiff with disuse.

His words floated back to me, over his shoulder, and they changed my life forever.

“You will become a gladiator.”



The door to my quarters opened into the training area of the ludus. Though I had closed it behind me, I heard noise coming from the stairs that led to the balcony overlooking the area—the voice of my dominus and those of several others.

Suddenly tense, though I knew that my dominus would not allow any harm to come to his top-ranked gladiator, I wished for the lethal metal blade that I was allowed to wield in the arena.

We were allowed nothing in the ludus beyond wooden swords and shields.

“Lilia!” The voice of my dominus was closer now—right outside the door to my quarters, it seemed. “Open.” Though I had been a slave for many years, and though I had respect for my dominus, it still grated to have to follow orders whenever they were issued.

I relaxed when I realized who it was, though not completely. It was not Bavarius or his men. Still, whatever brought the dominus to my chambers so late at night, I knew it would not be something that I would like.

“Yes, Dominus.” I might have been his favorite—a pet, of sorts—but I harbored no delusions about what would happen to me should I refuse. And I enjoyed the benefits that came with being in the favor of my master, benefits that kept me safe when I may not otherwise have been.

Pressing my suddenly clammy palm against the door, I felt the coarse grain of the wood scratching my skin. Inhaling deeply, I pressed, and the unlatched wood opened under the pressure.

Night was falling, the sky the color of the sea. I blinked, my eyes adjusting to the dim light, before being able to make out the figures that stood in front of me.

My dominus stood in front of the group, his face betraying a hint of impatience. To his one side was one of the female slaves from the house above. Her slight frame sagged under the weight of a bedroll, one nearly identical to my own.

I wanted to stride toward her, to relieve her of the burden. My dominus would not have cared if I had, but I hesitated, for something in the air surrounding the small group seemed off.

My dominus stepped aside, and I saw what I had been sensing.

Christus, my would-be savior from earlier in the day, stood on the sand of our training area, his frame colored by the silver of the moonlight. His subligaculum was unfamiliar—a different color, a different material than we used in the house of Philipus Septus Octavius. His hair was as dark as I remembered, and his eyes shone an intense blue, even in the berry-hued twilight.

Those eyes met mine steadily, and I felt my heart lurch in response. Though I did not want to feel this way, I found my entire being become focused on the man who stood in front of me. I was not stupid—I recognized my visceral response for what it was, an attraction the likes of which I had not ever thought possible.

Much as I wanted him, however, it did not change what he had done to me earlier in the day. As he continued to stare at me steadily, I narrowed my own eyes in response. I wanted to see an apology in the depths of his perusal, but I did not.

“This is Christus, formerly of the house of Lucius Quintus Manius.” My dominus spoke of Lucius, the owner of a rival ludus. The man had fallen on ill times of late, since the untimely death of his wife, Alba, and had begun to sell the warriors in his stable, a single man at a time.

It looked as though my dominus had purchased one.

The dominus seemed to be waiting for my reply, so I nodded slowly, to show that I had heard. I did not speak—I did not know what to say. If that day had been any indication, Christus’ presence in this ludus would mean nothing but trouble for me.

My attraction toward him could not be anything good either. While a single fuck with a gladiator of my choice was not of import in the ludus, anything more would invite trouble.

Something about this quiet, solitary warrior told me that with him there would be no quick, solitary fuck—with him there would be complications. Also, my throat had gone somewhat dry at the sight of all that skin, glistening in the moonlight. The man was infuriating, but he was also the single most attractive creature that I had ever set eyes on.

I spent my days in the company of men who had not even a pinch of fat on them, their hard bodies wrought from incessant physical activity and the special diet concocted by the house’s dietician. None of those bodies, in all their half-naked glory, compared to Christus’.

His every muscle had been sharply honed, pressing against the expanse of his golden skin. He was taller than the average, a large man all around, one who made me feel almost delicate.

Though I was small in stature, I never felt fragile, as I did in Christus’ presence.