Gladiator

by: Jay

Tatiana’s eyes still flashed with the fire of combat.  Once again she’d bested her opponent, a powerful Nubian.  Female gladiators were far to valuable to allow the battles to proceed to the death, but she had done enough damage to keep her opponent out of the arena for a long while.  From what I could see, her injuries were minor.  My salves and unguents would sooth them and permit her to rest, if only I could bring her down from the heights of combat induced rage.  She always came from the arena in this state, a frenzy that gave her enormous strength, but that caused her to lash out at anyone who attempted to get close to her.  As her body slave, I’d learned the painful lessons of how to deal with her like this, and to soothe and calm her.

I held her, knowing full well that she could easily break free and harm me.  It was a pattern we’d repeated for many years, and one that I knew would bring her back to the genteel world of our Mistress, who awaited her presence at the lavish banquet honoring her victory.  Her racing heart gradually slowed and her breathing returned to a normal rate.  Slowly she left the thrill of combat behind.  In the arena, she was merciless, but now she slowly became the sensuous woman whom every man in Rome wished were his.

In preparation for bathing her, I removed her light armor and tunic.  Though I’d given up my manhood in my early youth, the sight of her naked body still caused a twinge.  The spun gold of the hair at her loins, the sculpted relief of her muscles, the luscious globes, all stirred the long dead fires of desire.

She’d come to our household as an exchange with her Father, a powerful King on the Northern border.  His allegiance was critical to protection of the frontier from the barbarians in the East.  Her presence in Rome assured the loyalty of her Father.  Though she was still a child when she arrived, she already could ride as well as any of the boys and usually bested them when their arguments turned physical.  From her Mother, a noted huntress in her own right, she’d inherited the cunning and patience that made her a formidable opponent.

As she blossomed into womanhood, it became clear that she would not be content to live the servile life normally expected of a Roman woman.  She reveled in the games, and quickly became as knowledgeable about the fine points of gladiatorial combat as any man.  Our Master had a small stable of gladiators on his rural estate.  When we left Rome’s oppressive summer heat for the estate, she’d spend most of the day with the gladiators, to the consternation of my Mistress.  She even participated in their training drills.  As our visit came to a close, the head of the stable came to my Master with a curious proposal.

“Your ward Tatiana has tremendous potential as a gladiator.  She can already challenge some of my men.  I’d like you to consider letting me train her here.  A female gladiator of her potential could be a very valuable asset to your household.”

The Master was amused, he’d always had a soft spot in his heart for her, and granted her wishes even when they were opposed by my Mistress. 

He looked to Tatiana and said, “If this is your wish, I will allow it.”

“Oh, yes, it is!  I promise to do my best and honor the house with my victories!”

The Master enjoined the head of the stable to protect young Tatiana from the vices of the gladiators.  Our stable was one of the most disciplined in Rome, and wasn’t subject to the wild liberties of some of the others.  Still, the presence of a comely young girl could prove irresistible. 

As her training commenced, Tatiana herself made it clear that she would brook no unseemly behaviors.  It only took one defeat of one of the young trainees at her powerful hands to make the men respect her.  The oldest of the gladiators treated her as a daughter, and gave her many useful tips and tricks.

So much had happened since those days, but in the here and now, I must continue to prepare her for my Mistress.  I bathed her in the rose scented water she liked, singing to her the songs from her homeland that she’d taught me.  Songs of Goddesses whose power came from the Earth and the life abounding on it.  Her beliefs were strange, but they had always captivated my imagination.  The songs told of worship ceremonies deep in the forest at a sacred clearing, and conjured images of flickering fire light dancing on the shadowy trees.  Slowly, the dust of the arena, mixed with her sweat and the blood of her opponent were washed away.  I paid special attention to her golden mane, combing it slowly. Her face took on a dreamy look as she let all the tensions and fears of her battle ebb.  As I finished my ablutions, I led her to the padded massage table.

She’d taken a powerful blow to the ribs, and was very tender.  As I massaged her, I used some of the skills I’d learned from the other body slaves to the gladiators to soothe her pain.  There are special points on the body where pressure correctly applied can ease pain elsewhere.  Her knotted muscles gave way to my firm, yet tender touch, and I could see her relaxing even more.  The oil gave her body a burnished sheen that made her look like a bronze sculpture.  I thought I could hear her purring like a contented cat, but maybe that was just my imagination.

She rested only a moment after I finished the massage.  With a quick peck on my cheek, she thanked me.

“You always know what I need after the arena.  It sometimes frightens me what I become in combat.  You’ve learned how to bring me down without crashing like I did in the early days.”

She wrapped herself in a soft sheet to return to her quarters and dress for the banquet.

“Thank you my Goddess for letting me serve you,” I whispered as she turned the corner and disappeared.