Gladiator's Charm School 1 By Bald Hairy Man
This is a story for adult men. It depicts gay sex. If this offends or bothers you, DO NOT READ IT. It is a fantasy and is not a sex manual, or a discussion of safe sex. If you have, any comments send them to bldhrymn@yahoo.com
My nearest neighbor, Celer Publianus, ran a gladiatorial school from his large and impressive villa. It was among the finest villas in southern Italy. Of course, the school wasn't in the villa itself. It was a prison-like barracks hidden in a wooded area to the rear. He was most successful.
Celer had many villas in Italy and elsewhere in the Empire. Most produced food for the thriving cities of the empire. The Gladiatorial School was a hobby, but for Celer, everything he touched turned to gold, even his hobbies.
Gladiators were the rage of the times. He trained many heroes of the Arena. Of course, for each hero there were dozens of unsuccessful gladiators. Some, of course were sacrificed to sate the blood lust of the crowds, but gladiators were expensive, and had value as slaves, bodyguards and thugs. My neighbor, Celer Ruffinus, was a sensible man. If there was a way to make money on his men, he made it.
I am Tertius Maser, and I tended to get his discards. Some men send the used gladiators to the arenas to feed the wild animals or fill a burning ship in a nautical battle. Celer didn't want to pay for feeding them, but he didn't want them dead. The big money was in the arena, and the rental business was more work than treasure.
He sold them to me at nominal cost. This paid off for him in good will. His young, healthy gladiators appreciated not being killed by animals or burned alive after a long period of service.
The bodyguard rental business wasn't particularly profitable for me. The older gladiators looked strong, but big men willing to protect a patron were easily available. I found another use for my men that generated more rewards for me and the Gladiators.
Even damaged Gladiators were fine physical specimens. Most of the residents of Rome were poor, and underfed. In contrast, the life of leisure of the patrician class left most of upper class men lethargic weaklings. The wives of these patricians were particularly prone to enjoy the company of gladiators. These crude, beaten up men were all man, and many women enjoyed being bedded, plowed and seeded by a former gladiator.
There was a problem. Several women bought their favorite bedmates from me. I was not of an elevated rank and couldn't say no; thus I lost my some of best Gladiators at a low price. I hardly need to say my gladiators had no problem exchanging a life of the sword for a life of the cock. In the long term however, I made more renting them out than selling them.
Some women discovered the advantages of rentals. You had more variety in man meat, and you didn't have a half-civilized Gladiator in the house. The cock that satisfied the matron of the house could also satisfy her daughters and the servant girls. You would be surprised at the matrons who spent hours riding a gladiatorial cock, but were unhappy when their fourteen-year-old daughter had the same passion. Still many wanted a fully functioning man around the house. The gladiators didn't seem to care one way or the other. As one of my oldest friends, Publius said, "They rarely look at the faces."
Fortunately, I found another market for my gladiators. Officially, Roman's had disdain for Greek ways and habits. Romans always believed victory belonged to the strong and defeat was an indicator of weakness. The entire Greek world was under Roman control, a clear indicator of the weakness of the Greeks.
Roman's always snickered at the Greek taste for sex between men. Officially, Romans regarded sex as necessary for producing heirs and nothing else. We Roman's are a utilitarian people and tended to regard sex used for enjoyment as a waste of effort. Our doctors tell us man's seed was limited and not replaceable, thus, it was important to save our seed for procreative needs.
I personally am firmly of the belief that man seed is continuously produced and does not run out. In my fifty years, I have seen no sign my seed is running out. While we snicker at Greek love, many indulge in it. For most men, especially in the Army and in the large labor camps, men are more available, and more willing. Men do not have enraged fathers, or a family bent on saving their virtue. Men are often more enthusiastic in my opinion. Men do not have babies either, or want to get married, thus sex with men has fewer complications.
I was a poor man who married an older, wealthy widow. My wife, Flavia, was a jealous and suspicious woman who believed other women were planning to steal me from her. I discovered the joys of man sex as an alternative. For me sex with men was pure enjoyment without the problems of jealousy, or the threat of pregnancy. While my wife was well beyond childbearing years, the servant girls weren't. I was strictly faithful to her with respect to other women. Flavia eventually died, leaving me her fortune. It didn't approach Celer's massive hoard, but was more than adequate for me.
Romans assumed male sexual relations were between an older man and younger boys, following the Greek model. I had no interest in boys. Mature men excite me. With adult men, there was no whimpering about your cock not fitting the ass, no squeamishness about lapping up another man's seed. It was easy sex without complications. I could frolic with mature men and no one guessed I was doing it, or criticized me.
I also discovered much to my surprise and everyone's pleasure that I was stimulated by both fucking and getting fucked as well as sucking and being sucked. I discovered a simple truth: a cock is a cock. The patrician's cock works the same as a plebeian's cock. Both could open my ass and send me to the stars.
Many men had a taste for man sex, although they liked to keep this taste quiet. This proved to be important. I discovered the market of wealthy and powerful men for sex with gladiators. They were willing to pay well for the pleasure, especially if it was secret. Gladiators were the heroes of our times and patrician men were fascinated with the thought of sex with a crude barbarian Hercules. The gladiators were big, muscular fighting men. Most clients knew they were out matched in any athletic competition. For an hour, they would be the gladiator's sex slave. They would serve rather than be served.
To meet this need I realized I should train the gladiators to give maximum pleasure to my clients. My fighting men were not skilled in the niceties of sex. To some extent that was good. Most of my clients wanted to be used and possessed by my burly fighters. However, they did not want to have the experience over in the blink of an eye. I had to train my men to take it slow and make it last. While the client would be plowed by the gladiator, it had to be good enough for the client to come back and use my services again. While I had servants and some retired fighting trainers, I had to do the sexual training personally.
My discovery of the market for sex with my gladiators was quite unexpected. A noted Senator, Julius Balba, came to me enraged when he found his wife had purchased a sexual playmate from me. I was not entirely sure if it was the sexual aspect of the relationship, or the purchase price of the gladiator that offended him. Whatever it was, he was enraged.
By using conciliatory words and considerable wine, I got him to calm down. The Corsican Cheetah, one of my gladiators served the wine. The Corsican Cheetah was the gladiator's name from the arena where he wore an elaborate headdress of Cheetah skins with a matching cloth. The Corsican Cheetah had been one of the great heroes of the arena five years earlier. He broke his leg and was crippled, thus ending his career. He had been a favorite of Julius' and he was pleased to see the man was still alive.
By this point in my life, all my servants were male and most were former gladiators. As I live in southern Italy, it was hot and the men customarily went naked in the house. This was cool and made it difficult to hide weapons if one was a disgruntled servant. Unlike the Greeks who thought nothing of nudity, most Romans found it shocking outside of the baths. This titillated Julius.
Of course, Julius had never seen the Corsican Cheetah naked before. When he saw my man's impressive endowment, I saw him casting longing glances at the Corsican Cheetah's privates. Corsi and I were playmates and he knew what those glances meant. He was always up for some fun. While he had a bad limp, he could have used his cock to replace the leg in an emergency. It was a beauty. It responded to Julius' interest.
"It is such a hot day; perhaps a trip to the baths would be refreshing?" I suggested to Julius. He glanced at Corsi. "My slave can prepare it for us," I added. Julius liked that idea. We went to my baths. My baths was small, large enough for only ten or twelve men, but it was well appointed. I had a walled in garden area next to it designed as a wrestling court. This opened on the bath itself.
Julius and I were wearing only loincloths as we entered the baths. He admired the wrestling court and told me he had enjoyed wrestling as a youth. He said he had wrestled in the Greek style. I said I had enjoyed the same.
"I'm afraid I rarely won, but I was able to lose gracefully." I said.
"The punishment for losing was steep," Julius said. He winked at me. I knew what he referred too.
I laughed. "I'm afraid I lost so many times, I had no problem with the punishment," I added.
"Did you ever lose to a man as big as the Cheetah?" Julius asked. He was looking directly at the Cheetah's genitals. He was a burly, very hairy man. His hairless love tube stood out against the hairy body. His organ was semi-erect.
"I did, but not until more recently. As the Cheetah is now a cripple we are more evenly matched than would have been the case when he was whole," I said. "He still wins."
"Do you and can you take it?" Julius asked incredulously. I nodded.
"Of course he is a slave, but why wrestle if you can only win? I hate it when the weakly son of a Procurator appears in the arena and defeats a gigantic Goth without effort. Yes it is the Procurator's birthday, but I feel cheated," I said. "I can and have taken it."
"I would enjoy seeing you wrestling with him," Julius said. He looked around the room. "It is a private place here. If you were to lose I would never tell anyone." I knew what he wanted to see. He was no longer complaining about his wife's purchase.
I stripped. Corsi and I had a quick but convincing match. Corsi was trained in Greek wresting so it wasn't a crude, free-for all like the barbarian matches. I lost as usual and soon I was on my back on a marble bench with Corsi's oiled cock poking at my hole. Julius was fully erect now.
Julius got on his knees so he would watch Corsi's cock enter my ass from a close vantage point. Both he and I moaned as the massive slave cock popped through my ass ring and slid in deep. Julius was almost as excited as I was. After a considerable work out, Corsi pulled out. I asked Julius if he wanted to feel the gladiator's cock in his ass. I knew the answer he wanted to give, but didn't know if he would say it. He might pretend to be uninterested.
I know men do that, but it is so hard to pretend you are uninterested when you are fully erect. Julius nodded. He took my place on the bench. I told Corsi to take his time, and ease it in. Sometimes my idea of slow and easy wasn't his. There was some hesitation at the hole, but soon the Cheetah's organ was in as deep as it could go. Julius was on Mount Olympus with the gods.
The gladiator thrust hard and deep, and Julius moaned with each thrust. I watched Julius's asshole quiver in anticipation, and then saw him relax as Corsi pushed. I realized Julius was experienced and many a cock must have popped through his hole. He took the huge organ easily. Corsi was both large and skilled in the sexual arts. Soon Julius was twitching and shivering on the Gladiatorial pole.
"Fill me up!" Julius cried. Since Corsi's pubic hairs touched Julius' ass I knew he wanted the gladiator's man seed. Corsi gave it to him. When he finally pulled out of Julius' ravaged hole, his man seed drooled from Julius' ass and splattered on the floor of the bath. Julius seemed embarrassed as he left. Most men don't like to be seen in the throes of extreme passion. I proceeded as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world.
Several days later, I got a message from Julius asking if I could provide some entertainment for some special friends Julius invited to his country villa. He asked for the Corsican Cheetah and other men who shared the Cheetah's skills. He said the party was to be private and intimate. He offered me an impressive fee for the service. I was stunned at the amount.
The party was to be in two weeks, and I had my work cut out for me. Corsi was my most domesticated gladiator. They others could be rough and crude. I wanted them to be just rough and crude enough, but no brutal.
I had thirty slaves but many were purely domestic or farm slaves. I looked at my former gladiators. The Corsican Cheetah's best friends were the British Bruin and the Ethiopian Elephant. My friend, Celer liked names of foreign places and exotic animals. Roman's like the exotic and were usually pleased when a foreigner met his match in the arena.
I had a smaller man known as the Persian Panther, and a big German called the
Chieftain. I had no idea if he was a Chieftain; he spoke little Latin. Four in addition to Corsi would be enough, but I added one more, man they called the Danube Donkey. He appeared in comic interludes at the games, between the slaughters. He was an odd-looking man, but had a huge penis. That would be amusing at a party for special friends.
The British Bruin was a fine looking, big man with copper hair and a massive beard. He was all but blind with one eye missing and the other clouded over. The Ethiopian was a spectacular Nubian with a monster organ. The blow to his head left him dimwitted. Celer was a hardheaded businessman, so there was no reason not to have killed either man to provide additional gore for the crowd. He was oddly kind to save these men. There was whispering that Celer was a member of some Eastern cult and he had a problem killing the maimed.
The Persian Panther was a slight, small man. Normally small men survive only a week or two in the area, but he befriended the Bruin and the Ethiopian. They protected him. Now he helped them. He was from Palestine and was a Jew, not a Persian. His cock was clipped and thus his cock head was continually exposed. Most Romans found this exotic.
The German was a blond giant with one arm. He looked like a barbarian chieftain of the sort that Roman mothers scared their children. The Danube Donkey looked like a man in the way a camel looks like a horse. The parts didn't seem to match. At some point during his comic performances, his cock would slip out of his loincloth and cause considerable merriment in the arena. It was long and floppy. He had a bad leg that sometimes failed to support him. The Donkey spoke some of the German languages and could talk to the blond chieftain.
Having a Nubian, a blonde-haired person and a red headed man would be exciting for Julius' guests. Romans love novelty, since they are universally black haired and olive skinned. None of my men were virgins and none had any qualms about sex. Any new gladiator in a gladiatorial school would soon know the feel of the older men's cocks in their asses. Sometimes it was punishment for an error, other times a reward for doing well. Eventually it was just what you did during a long dark night.
Historically speed was the characteristic of these couplings. That was not what I was after. Fortunately, I had trained Corsi, so I had some idea of how to get them to slow down. I had also introduced him to the small pleasure nut inside his ass. Corsi tended to be impassive and stoic until I massaged the nut. He moaned as I rubbed it. I also discovered that his cock juices began to flow when I played with it.
I originally felt it was wiser to leave the Gladiators alone, except of course for the Corsican Cheetah. He excited me greatly, and we get along well. While I owned the other men, they were grateful for me taking them rather than having them die a horrible death, but I didn't want to stretch my luck too far.
We explained my plan to them. The Nubian and German didn't understand, but the Bruin, the Persian and the Donkey were more than willing. Their interest spread to the Nubian and German. The British Bruin was enthusiastic. His cock was thicker than it was long, a butt plug. He was a crude but happy fucker who enjoyed the task. He was nervous the first time he fucked me, but once he was in my ass, he let nature take its course.
I started my training with the German. The German was the most difficult of the men, so I began with him. I began by sucking his cock. This was good for him, of course. I then oiled my fingers and began to play with his ass. He wasn't sure about this, but as I was still sucking him, he didn't object.
By the time, he was ready to object I had a finger on each side of his nut and he couldn't object to anything. He was in Valhalla or where ever Germans go to feel divine pleasure. After that, I oiled his cock and sat on it. He had never been in my ass before. I slowly skewered myself on his cock, taking my time and savoring the sensation. I used my tight ass muscles to play with his organ.
The German normally didn't fuck men; he raped them. I showed him a new way. Later, when he tried to rape me Corsi held him back and made him slow down some. Again, my ass muscles played with his member as it probed my insides. The chieftain understood what I wanted.
The Bruin easily understood the new way to fuck and appreciated it. His cock was difficult to take due to its thickness. The Ethiopian would do anything he was told. His cock was long and touched virgin places in my ass. The Bruin's thick organ was harder to take than the Nubian's length. I managed both. The Panther was easy to take and fun.
For two weeks, we worked every day from dawn to dusk, improving the gladiators' sexual skills. It was exhausting for me, but the gladiators had no problems at all. Sex has a way of teaching itself. The first few days were rough on me. While I enjoy sex, I had three sessions a day with the five men. Every lesson involved my ass and their cocks. The gladiators wore me out.
Many slave owners make sexual use of their property as a matter of course. Most slaves are subservient and obedient and one always has a brawny overseer nearby in case things go wrong. With retired gladiators, it's difficult if not impossible to find an overseer brawnier than the slaves.
The Ethiopian had no idea what was going on, but liked to fuck. His cock was very long, but comparatively thin. The Chieftain was puzzled, but one he found out he was to be the fucker and not to be fucked he warmed up to the task. He was a particularly brutal man, but a warm and tight ass caressing his impressive organ seemed to mellow him. The Persian had an average cock, and was no problem at all.
The last man to fuck me in each session was the Danube Donkey. My ass was abused and sore by the time it was his turn. He had a long cock with a big cock head bulge. He was long, but his foreskin was longer. I had never seen him erect. The donkey was ugly. His body disobeyed every rule of classical beauty. It was hard to believe the statues of Apollo or Hermes were the same species.
As I said, he reminded me of a camel. His almost shaggy body hair was camel colored too; that increased the resemblance. Erect, his cock head bulge was a monster mushroom; an oversized battering ram. It looked as if it could be used to batter down city gates, not to mention tender and abused assholes. I wasn't enthusiastic about taking his cock, but I figured I might as well get it over. I had already sampled the beautiful and manly organs of oversexed gladiators. The donkey dong would be a letdown.
By the time he pulled out some time later, I knew the Danube Donkey was a master of the sexual arts. His crude cock was a perfect fit for my ass and he knew every good spot, every trick that could drive me to crazy sexual ecstasy.
The gladiators had filled my ass with their rich man seed and this lubricated me well, but the Donkey was a wonder. I should have been embarrassed at my display of passion and abject willingness to so anything he wanted, but the pleasure was too great. I think most of them had experienced his way with his cock and they understood what I felt.