The stillness of the night was interrupted by the sound of a single pair of booted feet upon the 
worn stones of the corridor. I sat in my cell wondering at life and the circumstances that had put 
me there, marked as slave and gladiator in the empires greatest city. 
Once, I was a free citizen with lands and a title, one of the most powerful generals in the Legion. 
I am now forced to fight for my life or bleed to death on the sands, laughed at by those who 
come for the sport. "It shall never happen," I, Maximus, vow quietly to the cell rats.
The booted feet drew near, something new in an existence that had become all too routine. A 
guard appeared at my cell door "You there, move over to the wall!" the guard ordered. He 
opened the gate and dropped chains to the floor, and then backed out quickly re locking it.
"Put those on," he grins, "and be quick about it!" I went to the pile and picked up the shackles; 
noticing that they are single metal cuffs at either end of twenty feet of chain. I paused in thought; 
it meant I had a visitor. I secured the cuffs into place and the guard returned, opened the door, 
and with a small hammer banged the pin into place. I gathered up the chain in my arms and 
walked out the cell door. I don't try to fight or run, the coliseum is far to well guarded and I bear 
the guard no malice, he is just doing his job. After quite a walk I am ushered into a large room. 
The guard opening a shackle on the wall, places the center of the chain inside it before locking 
it.
I am confined to the space ten feet from that shackle, if the chains are pulled taut with my back 
to the wall. The chain slides freely through the loop so either one arm or the other can go 
forward as the other goes back.
I look around and sees two brass braziers in the corners, flames leap and dance upon them 
providing the soft ruddy bronze light. There is a large wooden x to which one may be shackled 
and beaten. Sometimes the rich like to purchase a Gladiator and beat them to death to feel more 
powerful, I worry not. My value is far to high after winning my match today to be used in such a 
fashion.
The scent of lilacs interrupted my thoughts. I look up just in time to witness beauty itself slip into 
the room. A woman, middle aged but of uncommon grace and desire stands in the doorway. 
She wears the finest of cloth and has scented skin indicating a woman of some wealth.
I continued to sit against the wall. "Do you know who I am Slave?" she barked out imperiously. 
I looked her dead in the eye, then looked away unconcerned. Unperturbed she continued, "I am 
Helen, wife to Senator Claudius, president of the Senate's primary council. I am one of the most 
powerful Matrons in Rome and could easily afford your life if I desired to take it. Now stand 
and approach!"
Reluctantly, I got to my feet, Walking forward until the chain stopped me, I then leaned forward 
slightly, arms back to either side pulling the chain tight, The muscles in my chest were well 
defined in firelight and shadow. Helen approached me taking a small ceramic bottle and drizzling 
scented oil upon my chest. Her delicate fingers hesitated just a second before she started to rub 
the oil into my chest. 
"Some Matrons pay exorbitant amounts to be serviced by the most powerful gladiators, I 
however do not. I get no thrill from making the powerful submit. My orders are followed 
everyday. " she quietly stated.
Working her way down she began to rub my leg muscles as well. The oil leaving a sheen upon 
my skin that greatly enhanced my bronze coloring. The faint scent of cloves and lilacs caress my 
senses, it is so very different from the smell of the cells.
I closed my eyes to the tender stroking of this powerful woman and wondered at her motives. If 
she doesn't want me for service then what possibly could she want? My thoughts were broken 
as her hand kneaded higher upon my thigh. I opened my eyes and looked down. She knelt there 
diminutively, hand slowly encircling my growing hardness. Her eyes looked up at me pleadingly 
as she pulled aside my loin cloth, taking me into her mouth, and began to work the length slowly 
in and out.
I lay my head back and wonders again at my fortune. One of the most powerful Matrons is 
performing the taboo act of fellatio on me like some cheap street whore, a woman that could 
order my life forfeit, was ruining her fine silks on the dusty floor for my pleasure. My muscles 
bulged as I strained desperately to gain just a few more inches into her safe zone beyond the 
limits of my iron shackles. Suddenly it occurred to me what to do, I slowly pulled my hips back. 
The matron as predicted leaning forward following, I moved a half step back and she followed 
never noticing as she continued her perverse task.
I got her a bit closer then reversed and worked my cock into her throat, the situation changed 
and she knew it, gone is her safety in the limit of my bounds. A subtle shift, as I became the one 
in control, working more of my shaft through her tender lips. She may have been powerful in 
stature and wealth, but now she is in range of my strength.
That thought is accentuated as my hands lay upon her head controlling speed and depth. Sure I 
would be killed if I harmed her, but what is death to a Gladiator that measured my days one at a 
time, where each could be my last. I begin to thrust in earnest, saliva leaking from the corner of 
her mouth to dribble upon her breast, the silk dark with the evidence of our debauchery. Her 
chin and my cock glistened in the warm firelight, slick and moist. I pull back and out, my solid 
shaft slipping from her tender lips, taking it in hand I rubbed the saliva across her cheek using 
her dainty soft skin to clean my member.
She looked up at me then, chest bulging, arms thick and solid, Eyes hard enough to have 
watched the death of countless men, and yet she sees wisdom, sincerity, even amusement. I 
point, and she rises and walks over to the x shaped rack, walking up behind I bend down 
closing her tender ankle in the cuff at the base.
I clasps the second one after spreading her legs, once it is in place; I grabs her fine dress and rip 
it from the base straight up her back. I do likewise disposing of the undergarments until she 
stands barebacked, dress held to her front to keep it from falling. I grabs her hips spreading her 
ass and run my tongue from the bottom up, she shuddered, no man has ever treated her like 
this.
I stand pressing against her back then looking up, I realizes there are no shackles, just two pins 
on which to grasp. I growled in her ear "hands!" She looked up and reached forth to put her 
hands on each peg; the dress fell to the floor. Taking some of my chain, I wrapped it around 
each wrist securing it to a peg. The chain felt cool and unyielding upon her skin. I reached 
around and grasped her breasts in my hands, my callused fingers like sand paper on her smooth 
unblemished skin. I roughly massaged them relishing in they're elasticity and ability to conform, 
taking a nipple in my fingers I roll them, squeezing until she moans and finally gasps a bit. 
Reaching down, my hand presses her abdomen. Simultaneously I bite her shoulder. Helen cried 
out, head thrown back, arching her spine causing her hips to swivel back and up granting me the 
access I craved.
There is no tenderness as my cock slides home inside her. Her tender pussy clings to my fleshy 
manhood like an old lover. I begin to fuck her. No sweetness, no perfumed neck, all man, 
taking her as I see fit.
Helen relishes in the helpless position. All her life she has been obeyed, finally she has but to do 
as she is told. I thrusts strongly, each cycle bringing her up to her toes as I fill her completely, 
my power raw and savage as I drive into her again and again, never slowing, just pure 
animalistic mating. I reaches around and take both nipples between my fingers; rolling them I 
ask her "are you happy bitch? Do you like being my slave?" as the sound of the words fade I 
once again pinch harshly. Helen cries out as the convulsions erupt in her loins, "Yeeee-
aaaaaahhhhhh-sss." She begins to thrust back into me faster and harder as the massive orgasm 
races through her. She is a woman out of control, her hips work so violently that she pulls clean 
off of me and as she thrusts back she mistakenly takes me in her tiny ass.
She freezes, her pure animalistic scream echoes off the walls. Her orgasm triples and her legs 
give way, as she sags supported only by her weakened grip and my cock. The vise like 
squeezing of her ass is too much and my seed erupts from my shaft, pulse after pulse shoots 
along out of my cock, filling her bowels with my cum. Each contraction swells my shaft 
stretching her tiny ass that much further, I slow and finally stop; my head lay forward upon her, 
as I catch my breath against her neck. Reaching up and unwinding the chain I push her forward 
to lay in the crook of the x. I slide out and my issue follows, sliding slowly down the curve of he 
ass then her leg. I kneel and unshackle each ankle, the tender skin bruised from her thrashing. I 
stand and pull her from the rack and allow her to sink down to her knees, worn and tired. She 
looks up at me fearfully yet reverently as no man has ever given her such release. Stepping 
forward I press myself to her lips. She takes it in. brushing her hair back off her face I whisper, 
"Goooood girl, we have more night left."
