III
They left her alone for the rest of the week. Each grueling day grudgingly
earned the gladiators' respect of the comely female who also possessed strong
martial skills. The week progressed at the school without incident until their
final day of practice ended and all bathed.
"Get out. And don't bother toweling off." The centurion stood over the female
nude soaking in the bath below him "Come with us."
Rasenna saw the soldiers gathered around her part of the bath. There were too
many to fight. She sat up and rolled from the tub. Wet beads ran from her body
as she stood next to the centurion.
"Take her outside. You know what to do."
She let herself be taken back into the court. The day's fading sun lit the
center court. Already evening shadows filled most of the perimeter. She was
turned to face away from the gladiators' quarters, but could feel all eyes on
her and the Romans. Manacles clasped her hands behind her neck. Rasenna looked
down to see uniformed legionnaires pulling her legs apart. Stakes were pounded
into the ground and her ankles tied to the stakes.
Rasenna raised her head. The centurion was nowhere in sight. In his place an
older soldier seemed to be in charge. Tomorrow was supposed to be the big event,
she knew, but she still had questions. She spoke to him and said, "What now?"
The veteran looked back at the pretty Etruscan and said, "Never mind. You'll
see." He waved for three female slaves to bring their equipment and come closer.
Rasenna kept silent as the slaves used razors to closely shave her armpits and
legs. One behind formed a single braid from her blonde hair. She was not about
to speak to those below her in more ways than one. Only when one of them applied
cream to her groin and began to shave away her pubic hair did she speak.
"What are you doing???!"
She got no answer from any of the slaves. Rasenna stood, legs spread and arms
raised with wrists locked behind her neck, helpless to protect herself from the
silent movements manipulating her body. As soon as they were done, all three
opened clay jars and poured honey mixed with oil over her. It held a light scent
of perfume. Their fingers massaged the combination into her flesh. Had she not
been so tied, the treatment might have felt good.
The silent workers soon finished. Packing up all of their equipment the slaves
slid away. Rasenna lowered her chin. The tops of her breasts glistened in the
waning light. A shadow appeared in front of her. It was the veteran soldier.
"You have a good night," he said with a glint as his eyes roamed down the oiled
chest. "Tomorrow's the big day and you're the star attraction, but I suspect
that before then you'll get something of a rude royal wakeup."
Rasenna watched him leave. Night fell. Above the first stars appeared. Behind
her she could hear the lecherous whispering of the gladiators. From beyond the
walls of the school the evening sounds of the city continued. She tried her
wrists, but the manacles held. Her back ached, but she determined not to please
any of them. Complaining about such treatment was beneath royals. She would
spend the night standing in place.
Near dawn, marching calls came with the sounds of pounding boots, slapping
leather and clanging metal uniforms. In the gray light Rasenna counted at least
a half-dozen of the characteristic Roman helmets. She felt exhausted from
holding the same position all night long. A helmet with a crest and plume moved
to her side and behind. She felt fingers spread across her back and firmly push.
Rasenna easily fell, twisting her head just before she landed and hitting the
sand with her elbows. The gladiators had arisen with the arrival of the Romans
and watched through the bars of their dugout as one of them pushed the Etruscan
forwards. From their view they saw everything. Rasenna propped between uniforms.
Morning sun steadily revealed more. Two sides of the shallow triangle contrasted
smooth flesh with grainy sand. Splayed knotted calves ascended to the backs of
muscled thighs and an obviously female apex of the makeshift triangle.
"You men know that I am not usually one to pull rank, however," said the one who
took over from the centurion the day before, "I do believe that in this case
I'll make an exception." More light of the new day helped show the man's grin to
his younger soldiers. He patted Rasenna's rump and spread her clenched cheeks to
the hoots and cheers of his subordinates. Reaching under the short tunic he
withdrew an erect, and surprisingly large, penis. Holding it with one hand while
parting her ass cheek with his other, the veteran slid his member up and down
between her crotch.
Gladiators fought one another for the best vantage point. Those that won
steadfastly gripped the bars rising from ground level to just about head height;
their barracks floor space being several feet below the surface of the training
arena. Those unlucky enough not to grab hold of the bars pressed their faces
between the shoulders of others more fortunate. One of them murmured almost to
himself, "She's going to really get it now..."
Rasenna ground her cheek across grit as she straightened her head and rested on
her chin. She grimace as the Roman behind her probed, and then gasped as he
thrust, rasp-like into her dry space.
"Come on now, royal slave," he grunted. "Don't be so tight."
Amid cheers from his men, the veteran plunged his piston deeper. Gripping her
buttocks, he thrust more, watching the vertebrae, muscles and bones beneath his
proud victim's back tense.
"That's better." At last, he felt himself slide in, as if breaking through a
barrier. Sliding out, before another thrust, he saw himself now well lubricated.
"Let's try this other opening. First, though, I better check." He licked his two
fingers and dug them into Rasenna's ass.
Tears welled under her shut lids. Rasenna resolved to keep quiet, but gasped, as
she felt ripped apart by the Roman's fingers. Her cry was sharp and brief as she
felt the cock split her beyond imagination.
Finally, he ejaculated.
"I thought all those Etruscan bitches were sluts," the veteran grunted as he
moved aside for his next in command. "This one's like a virgin."
"Maybe, but not for long," said the young soldier who had taken his place. His
remark drew derisive laughter from those standing around. "This one's no
madonna..."
Those watching from the barracks remained hushed as they witnessed one soldier
after another rape Rasenna. Eventually, her long legs bent at the knees, but the
lowered angle hardly put a stop to the Romans lustful quest. They merely ground
more of her into the sand with their savagery.
"Untie her ankles and unlock the manacles holding her wrists together." The
veteran slowly paced around the fallen Etruscan. "Everyone had their chance?" He
surveyed the happy faces of his squad and said, "Good. We'll come back in an
hour or so. Until then, drag the slave over to the gladiators. They'll know what
to do."
Rasenna was dragged by the wrists and dumped down the short flight of mud steps
leading to the gladiators' barracks. They gathered around as one of them got a
wet cloth and wiped away much of the bloody residue.
"Don't treat her so nicely. Remember; it's because of this bitch that most of
you are about to die today," The Algerian growled from his seat near the rear of
the cavern. "Besides, I'm still crippled because of her. Make way you forlorn
bastards, I'm coming through to take my revenge"
The others parted as the man still limping from the encounter in the baths
earlier this week shouldered his way toward Rasenna's prostrate figure. Their
mumbling increased. Many nodded their heads in agreement with what the Algerian
said, and started to shove their way to be next behind the gross figure kneeling
between the female's legs.
