In His Arena 1: Slave Eternal

by Maksima, Nasia

  And Lucan was just that.

  “Do not worry, Lucan the great and golden. You will still be getting plowed this morn.” The man trailed one fingertip down Lucan’s chest, lightly scattering beads of sweat.

  Lucan shivered, and a low moan escaped him, nearly lost in the rusty creak of the chains. “No.”

  The man’s smile gleamed in the dimness. “I think you’ll find your body disagrees.”

  Snapping back to himself, Lucan jerked away, only to fetch up against the wall to which he was chained.

  The man pressed forward, blade and hand at Lucan’s throat, shoving him against the stone, the dagger tapping urgently against his jugular. “Calm yourself, slave. I only want a taste of you.”

  The sound of his voice, lusty and lascivious, shuddered through Lucan. It had been weeks since he had last enjoyed a man’s touch, a man’s taste, a man’s mouth on his cock. But this was a member of House Vulpinius. Slavers, dark priests—they had been granted a pardon from the Empress, but everyone knew they still practiced their dark arts for their own gain, still enslaved, still tried to manipulate the winnings of the theatre to throw favor on their house.

  And this was the Empress’s own man. Looking again at the fine robes, Lucan gave a jolt as he realized… Dark burgundy stripes, four of them. The consul. This man was second only to the Empress herself. It seemed she truly was blind, at least partially by choice.

  “Who are you?” Lucan heard the tinge of fear in his tone and hated it, but the slaver-priests could steal a man’s will, imprison his soul, make him do anything.

  “Alession.” A glint of icy blue eyes told Lucan he was right to fear this man— slaver, consul, changer of Lucan’s fate. “Alession of House Vulpinius. Consul to her Imperial Majesty.” He turned the knife slowly, digging the tip into Lucan’s chest. A trickle of blood slipped down his pectoral and over his muscular abdomen. The heat of it was sensual, smoldering. Lucan writhed at the end of his chains.

  Slow as a dream, Alession bent his head, his mouth opening, hot breath steamy on Lucan’s skin as his tongue chased the red rivulet, licking the stain from Lucan’s flesh.

  Lucan could not help the breathy sigh that escaped him, his starved skin shivering at the lustful touch. These past weeks without the touch of another man had rendered him weak, needy. His mind whirled. Alession was tonguing the crimson bead from his pectoral, kissing lower, his lips teasing the nipple erect.

  His pale blue eyes eager and hungry, Alession watched Lucan’s muscular frame writhe on the hook. “When I’m through with you, you’ll beg to be my slave.”

  Sudden anger swept through Lucan like a brushfire. Roaring, he surged forward, corded veins standing out in his neck and biceps; but the chains held, dragging him back against the wall.

  Alession followed and forced a kiss upon him, crushing his mouth against Lucan’s, smothering his rage, forcing his tongue between Lucan’s lips.

  Unable to pull away, chained like a beast, Lucan thought first of biting, but as Alession’s tongue delved in with rough force, a spike of pleasure pierced him through. He found himself returning the kiss, aggressive and passionate, his body straining at the fetters, his pelvis yearning forward.

  No. I don’t want… I’d sooner…

  The images of his trident spearing into Alession’s flesh turned carnal, visceral—the consul bent over, subservient before him, Lucan pounding hard into his shuddering hole, the slave become the master.

  Chains rattled against the wall as Alession pulled away. Lucan pitched forward to recapture his mouth, a small groan escaping him as he was hauled back against the stone, the shame of his desire spreading scarlet over his face.

  Alession watched him with predatory interest. “It’s very liberating, being a slave.” He poised the tip of the ebon dagger against Lucan’s chest. “You have no control over what happens.” The blade twisted, drawing a thin red line over Lucan’s left nipple. “You just do as you’re told”—circling the sensitive nub as it hardened—“no responsibility”—twisting, as if cutting an arcane pattern through the gladiator’s heart—“no guilt…no remorse…”

  The knife came away. Alession ducked his dark head, and his greedy mouth closed down on the tender bud, his tongue lashing, his teeth further tormenting the hard areole.

  An anguished moan escaped Lucan’s mouth. Again, he strained at his fetters, but this time, the fact that they held him secure, a slave to Alession’s lust, burned liquid heat through his belly and into his groin. His cock stirred, half-hard. The scald of shame on his cheeks grew hotter, but in the gloom, he no longer cared. Alession’s calloused hands were on his chest, massaging him even as he trailed hot, wet kisses over Lucan’s sculpted torso. It had been so long since the touch of another man’s body, hard against him…

  Quickly, Alession peeled his rich tunic down and stood naked to the waist, muscles rippling under his pale skin. Lucan could not help but lust over the hard pectorals and biceps, could not help but think of the strength in those arms, enfolding him in a rough, manly embrace. The manacles about his wrists bit hard into the flesh as he strained forward.

  Watching him, drinking in his torment, Alession let his hands fall to his own crotch, gently squeezing and massaging his hardening bulge, a rapacious smile rising to his lips. Stroking himself, he leaned in, pressing the length of his body against Lucan’s, his hand caught between them.

  At once, Lucan bucked, driving his hips forward. Moaning, Alession writhed against him, rigid cock and questing hand massaging the gladiator’s shaft. His touch was pleasure, pure and scorching. Lucan briefly thought of spells, enchantments, a dozen different ways for Alession to beguile him. But grinding against the man’s hand, feeling himself painfully hard, he could not find cause to care. Instantly, almost painfully stiff, Lucan pumped hard and sweaty against Alession, pitching wildly in the chains, his pelvis slapping impotently into the slaver-consul’s hand.

  Alession endured Lucan’s desperation, his unbridled attempts at rutting, and Lucan became shamefully aware he was groaning in his slaver’s ear. His frustration was nearing its peak, and Lucan realized his futile thrusting would not bring an end to his torment, yet he was unable to stop out of base, sordid lust.

  Finally, Alession grabbed Lucan’s hips and forced him to stop. Lucan struggled against the man for a few moments before surrendering. A sheen of sweat covered his entire body, his thighs shaking, his wrists rubbed raw from straining at the manacles.

  A wolflike smile rose to the slaver’s lips. Lucan shivered as Alession hungrily licked the droplets of sweat from his skin, sinking to his knees, his mouth open in lustful promise before Lucan’s bulging crotch. Moaning, Lucan thrust forward, his erection straining beneath his loin skirt.

  Eagerly, Alession ran his tongue across his teeth, carnal heat blazing in his eyes. His hand stroked Lucan’s rigid knob, and Lucan moaned, his cock pulsing and throbbing under Alession’s talented fingers. Lucan imagined pushing it forward, the tip breaching Alession’s mouth, how his hot, slick throat would feel like a molten clasp.

  Lucan’s head rolled back against the wall, his legs taut, balls aching, cock ready to explode. A glimpse of the slaver-consul kneeling before him, bare-chested, stroking him to maddening arousal drove a shuddering moan through him.

  “Please…” It was out of him before he could stop it.

  “There’s a good slave,” Alession soothed.

  Indignant heat crawled up Lucan’s cheeks, then burst through his body as the slaver seized his loincloth and peeled it down his sweaty thighs.

  Eyes dilated in lust, Alession seemed to enjoy the spectacle of his slave. Lucan knew how he must look—dangling by the wrists, his firm, strong body naked and streaked in sweat, his shaft achingly hard. Hanging helpless, Lucan groaned in an agony of pleasure, his body displayed for a slaver’s depraved entertainment.

  Twisting in ruinous desire, he threw his head back, his blond hair sweaty, sticking to his back. Alession was urging closer, leaning in… Lucan he
ld his breath, barely daring to hope, to feel the touch of brazen lips upon his rod. His cock throbbed painfully, the head dusky and glistening.

  As though drawn toward it, Alession leaned forward, his lips parting to take it in—every hard, stiff inch. His hands got there first, wrapping round Lucan’s thick meat, his calloused palms rough against its heavy, veined surface. Lucan moaned, his cock fairly leaping at the touch, droplets of precum spattering to the dirt floor, wasted.

  “Now, now.” Alession chuckled darkly. “We can’t have that, can we?” He moved enticingly closer, mouth opening wide.

  The barest tip of Lucan’s straining cock pierced Alession’s wet hole, and without warning, he thrust forward, hoping to spear Alession’s mouth. His rod penetrated halfway before the slaver jerked back, the thick member slipping from his lips. A shuddering gasp of disappointment, and Lucan hung, bereft. A smack to his buttocks sharpened his cry and his arousal. He looked down to find Alession’s expression cold.

  Severity cut through the lust in Alession’s eyes. “You don’t fuck me, bitch-boy. I am the consul, second only to the Empress herself. I fuck you.” Bending his head, he teased, describing light, tormenting patterns on Lucan’s shaft with tongue and fingers, dancing along its length and then trailing up the sensitive underside. “Beg me.”

  “I…won’t.” Lucan’s voice was strong, but his body was weak, racked with arousal.

  Alession left off teasing and captured Lucan in a firm hand, bringing him back to full and sudden hardness, stroking him long and lusty.

  Lucan’s moans came, throaty and shameless, his voice hoarse. “Please…please.” His begging echoed like the beats of a battle drum in the dim cell. He nearly sobbed as Alession brought his straining shaft once more to those beautiful lips, a warning look in his ice-blue eyes.

  Fighting for control, Lucan waited patiently, every fiber of his being burning with need. He writhed at the end of his chains as Alession tongued his cock tip, licking the salty, smutty sweat from the head, prodding the swollen slit. Gripping Lucan’s erection, he slowly began to drive it into his mouth, inch by turgid inch.

  Saliva slicked Lucan’s hard cock, Alession’s teeth grazing that shaft, the velvet tongue teasing Lucan’s scrotum. Lucan fought hard to be still, patience drenching him in sweat. Alession was almost there, his mouth nearly filled. Lucan held on as long as he could. His balls tightened. So close… A guttural groan, and he thrust hard.

  His shaft burned down Alession’s throat, the pleasure so intense that Lucan nearly blacked out. He fought the chains, blood breaking across his wrists, taunted by the wanton craving to grab the man’s head and force him to deep throat his aching cock until he came, spilling his seed down the slaver’s gullet.

  Choked by the thickness of Lucan’s member, Alession pulled back, gasping, his face contorted in pleasure, in pain. He paused to catch his breath and then dared in once more. He placed his lips over the swollen head and waited. With a groan, Lucan shafted him again, shoving his hard cock in deep.

  This time, the slaver drove forward, impaling his own mouth on Lucan’s pole. Gasping, he slipped his tongue free and lapped at the root of Lucan’s penis. With strong hands, he cupped Lucan’s balls, squeezing gently before seizing a firm grip on his tight ass.

  In one hard stroke, Alession pulled him all the way in.

  The chamber echoed with the wet, slurping sounds, and Lucan’s wanton begging. Enraptured, he could not look away from the spectacle of Alession’s sordid fellatio. The consul of all Arena, his mouth stretched over Lucan’s hard cock, fingers digging into his ass cheeks, saliva slicking his lips. Taken by the ecstasy of Alession’s sucking, Lucan lost control for a moment, a jet of hot cum surging into the slaver’s eager mouth. Panting, straining at his chains, he struggled to master himself.

  But he could feel his release building up in him, unbridled and wild—a torrent he could not, he dared not, hold back. He wanted to grab Alession’s head, to force himself deeper into that hot, greedy mouth. He lunged in the chains. Screaming hoarsely, he came, his seed spurting down the slaver’s throat. Again and again, he thrust, each time spilling more of his steamy jism.

  Choking with the effort of drinking down the sweltering brew, Alession pulled back, sticky cum dripping from his mouth, spattering on his chest. Dizzily, he stood, gripping Lucan’s shoulders to steady himself.

  Spent, Lucan hung, sweaty and in disarray, breathing hard from exertion. Alession’s hand was on his chin, lifting his face. Before Lucan could protest, the slaver’s lips captured his own, opening wide, spilling cum into Lucan’s mouth. The taste of his own seed thrilled through him, his body tensing in pleasure as he shared a sticky kiss, sampling the tang of his cum from Alession’s lips.

  “Do you like your own taste?” Alession pulled away. “Now you’ll taste me…but not with your mouth.”

  The only warning was a tightening of his grip on Lucan’s shoulder. And then the slaver-consul spun him roughly. The rusty chains shrieked as Lucan slammed chest-first against the wall, the wind rushing out of him. Alession’s hand was at the back of Lucan’s neck, holding him against the stone, his lips kissing wet and greedy across his slave’s shoulder, his tongue licking down the muscles of his back to the base of his spine.

  Grabbing Lucan’s firm ass, Alession parted his cheeks and delved in with his tongue, rolling his wetness over Lucan’s tight hole, moaning deep into his cleft. Manfully, Lucan struggled, squirming, the hot saliva between his cheeks making him hard again. Alession tongued deeper, flicking over the tight hole, prodding at it, teasing.

  Lucan spread his legs, his buttocks tense, his cock straining even as he felt Alession rise behind him. The slaver stepped in, his bare chest rubbing against Lucan’s bare back, his rigid phallus nudging Lucan’s ass.

  Moaning, Alession pumped, the fine linen of his tunic the only thing keeping him from plunging in deep. Panting, Lucan yearned back, thrusting his buttocks against the hard shaft. A creak of well-worn leather. Alession was loosening his belt…and then his tunic fell in a puddle between them, his bare thighs against Lucan’s bare ass.

  And then his hand was there. It was slick—oil? Cream? Lucan did not care. He moaned as Alession worked his hole, opening him, stretching him, lubing him up. He urged back, rolling his hips, crying out softly when Alession penetrated and retreated, penetrated and retreated.

  By the time Alession withdrew his oil-slick fingers, Lucan was begging for release. “Please,” he panted, twisting in his chains. The metal rubbed his wrists raw, but he didn’t care. He pulled, trying to get closer to Alession, trying to rub his ass against the slaver’s stiff cock.

  “Ah.” Alession laughed softly. “Now you understand how it will be between us. You will beg. I will decide when you receive your reward.” Taking his own thick member in his hand, Alession prodded Lucan’s sodden hole. Lucan moaned like a whore, nearly sobbing. He strained back, needing, wanting Alession to penetrate him.

  He barely felt the kiss of the blade upon his chest.

  “And you will be my slave. My slave eternal.” Alession gave a short thrust, and the swollen head of his cock breached Lucan’s tight hole.

  Lucan cried out at the sudden penetration, but Alession only waited, angling his hips and the position of his cock as Lucan squirmed at the end of it. Would the slaver simply toy with him, or would he finally shove his way in? Lucan yearned for the deep plunge of Alession’s cock tunneling into him, using him the way he wanted to be used.

  “Please.” Lucan hung his head, sweat dripping from his golden hair onto his chest.

  Alession pushed farther in, past the tight ring of muscle, Lucan opening up beneath his stiff invasion. “That’s a good boy, take it. Take it all!” The slaver thrust hard, splitting Lucan’s ass with his stiff cock. A breathy scream escaped Lucan as Alession’s hot shaft speared him to the hilt.

  Seconds later, the ebon blade pierced his chest.

  Lucan’s screams of ecstasy mingled with cries of pain as Alession beg
an to fuck him, to carve into him, cock and blade penetrating his flesh with equal force. Lucan struggled, the chains enslaving his wrists, Alession’s ruthless cock enslaving his body, the spell of the ebon blade enslaving his soul.

  Alession’s hands were on Lucan’s hips, pulling him back as he drove forward, fucking him rough and hard, pounding deeper and deeper into his slave’s quivering hole. The sound and slap of the slaver’s balls against Lucan’s ass made his moans rise. He could not help it. He wanted it. Damn the consequences. Damn dark magicks and enslavements.

  “Fuck me! Fuck me!” he grunted, shoving his ass onto Alession’s ravaging cock. The chains twisted mercilessly, cutting into Lucan’s hands, rattling wildly in time with the bestial rutting and the sounds of guttural groans, sweaty flesh slapping together, Alession’s thighs smacking against Lucan’s hot ass.

  Alession’s moans were triumphant in Lucan’s ear. “Take my cock, bitch-boy. Take my blade.”

  Dark-red blood slipped from Lucan’s chest as Alession’s ebon blade carved into him. He bucked as Alession shot his first load, spilling himself deep into Lucan’s body. Impaled twice by the slaver, Lucan could only ride him like a bitch, forced against the stone wall with every thrust, pulled back by every twist of the blade, pleasure searing through the agony. Cum trickled down his thighs.

  The blade turned, completing its bloody, circular path across Lucan’s left pectoral. Alession slashed once, cutting into the circle as he plunged forcefully into Lucan’s hole.

  Lucan moaned, the tip of Alession’s cock nudging his sweet spot deep inside.

  With a lusty grunt, Alession tightened his grip on Lucan’s nape, pressing him against the wall, his shaft riding to the root in Lucan’s ass. “I’m so deep. When I come again, you’ll taste it.”

  Alession slashed once more, lunging so fiercely he cried out, and trails of glowing black burst up from the bloody pattern. Smoke rose at the searing of Lucan’s skin, and white-hot agony scorched through him, lighting every nerve ending on sudden, jolting fire. Screaming himself breathless, Lucan began to collapse against the wall, but the slaver held him, using him, completing the dark ritual of cock and blade.