Gladiators On The Web...
Harga Part Two

We stood in the middle of that tiny pasture by the lake. Dela and myself. Garius was still trussed to the tree. Three of the girls sat at his feet. In the emotion of the fight to come, they would cling to his legs, run their fingers along his thighs, stroke chest and belly, delight in his muscle, rub their cheeks against his hard, defiant rod. They would caress their sex too - and the sex and breasts and bellies of each other. They would be roused by combat, excited by suffering; they would climax in death. My death. They would cheer their leader onto victory. On to the kill. For only the kill would satisfy them. I glanced at Garius, and saw in his eyes the glint of a rival, and knew only the kill would satisfy him too.

Tarna, however, stood a little apart. Her back pressed against the trunk of a tree, her hands behind her. Naked, vulnerable. Sunlight and shadow snaking down her body. She was rubbing her buttocks against the bark, her hips twisting in a pagan dance of fear and desire, simmering slowly, slowly with some unfathomable ecstasy.

Dela was in a semi-crouch, prowling round me, her eyes blue, intent, boring into me with ice-cold passion. I followed her movements nervously, legs shaking, chest heaving, belly cold and trembling with despair. The sweet taste of terror was in my throat. Tears and perspiration stung my eyes.

Then she lunged, the blade swishing through the air. I lurched backwards, stumbling, and she laughed, not pressing home her advantage. She was mocking me, humiliating me.

"This how Roman girls fight, huh?" she sneered.

She jabbed again. Towards my throat. Towards my groin. Testing the air. I flinched. Recoiled. Gasping with fear. Turned to flee. Twisted around. Seeing only the lake, the dense hem of trees, the mocking faces. Glimpsed once the lovely Tarna, gyrating against the trunk of the tree, her bright vermilion fingernails probing her bush. There was nowhere to run. Sensing in that moment that the one place to hide, the one place of forgetfulness, was there in Tarna's arms, sinking into her womb.

Laughter rang round the clearing. The laughter of mocking girls. The sneers of Dela. Garius scorning me too. A girl's lips brushed against his shaft. Through his own growing ecstasy, he urged me to fight like a Roman. Die like a man.

And in response, I whimpered, terrified of death, the agony of dying, brushing my eyes, rubbing the salt tears onto my prick. And my prick - hero and traitor - was hard with bewilderment, desiring only the twin certainties of sex and death.

Dela swaggered on the spot, hand on her waist, whistling nonchalantly, wiggling her hips. Idly she bounced the knife in her other hand, feeling its weight. Then she kissed the blade and hurled it in a single blurred movement at Garius. Garius' eyes were closed, his head pressed back, rubbing against the bark. His throat was exposed. One of the girls was nibbling at his cock, one sleepy eye on the parody of a fight a few yards away. He never even saw the knife as it shimmered through the soft evening air. The girl saw it though - and bit his prick in alarm. Garius shrieked - and his eyes blared open. He saw the sunlight sparkling off the blade. Saw death hurtling towards him. Then there was the thunk of metal in wood. Garius rolled his eyes upwards, the balls as white as a corpse. The knife had cleaved through his hair and was now twanging in the trunk above his head. At that moment the girl sucked wildly on his prick.....and, in a great tide of shock, he came.

"Missed!"

Dela smirked at me. "Now feel better, boy. Maybe now you stop snivelling. Nasty Dela not got knife. Balls safe now."

The she jumped upwards and cartwheeled towards me. I was too taken aback to move. Suddenly she was upon me, face to face. I was staring into the blackness of some profound night sprinkled with stars. I gazed across a terrifying lunar landscape, with crevices and crags, arid plains and jagged mountain ranges. I was hypnotized by the changing colours of the huge jewel that hung in the dark airless space above. Her lips, too, were black and they parted in a mordant grin, revealing a chasm of gleaming white teeth.

She gripped my nipples, squeezing the flesh around them, kneading it, her nails black and shiny. Then suddenly she hooked her foot around my ankles and spun me onto the ground. I thudded onto my back and gasped. In a moment she had wedged herself between my thighs and forced my legs apart. She thrust her heel into my bollocks. I screamed, jerking backwards; the girls laughed and cheered. Then she ground my balls with the sole of her foot, her rhythm echoing the slow, incipient gyrations of sex. She squeezed her toes around my prick. Flicked her foot upwards. Jerked my tumescent shaft vertically like a fleshy pole.

Then she dropped beside me, bracing her left arm across my chest, pinioning me to the ground. She pummelled my belly. I squirmed as her hard knuckles churned into my bellymeat, her black, gleaming nails digging into my guts. Again and again she struck, the slap of her fist echoing back from the trees. I gasped, cried out, sobbing with the sudden ecstasy of pain, feeling my intestines lurch inside me with each punch. The air was squeezed out of my lungs. My prick flapped against my abdomen in rhythm with the blows, the sap of sexuality squeezing up nmy shaft in a slow, remorseless foam.

Then she grabbed my balls, bunching them in her fist. I squealed. In shock and terror. I wrtithed beneath her, desperate to free myself, dreading she would suddenly jerk upwards and tear my balls from my groin. She stared into my eyes. And her eyes were sharp like blades, tweezing out my terror. She licked her lips, her tongue pink and moist against the painted blackness of her skin. Slowly she lifted my balls. I whimpered with horror, begging for mercy, my belly shivering in a spasm of fear. She laughed and tugged a little more. Relishing my terror. Desperately I raised my buttocks from the ground, slid my fists beneath my ass, pushed upwards. My heart was lurching wildly.

Then she relaxed. and rose. And sauntered over to the tree. she smiled down at the girls draped round Garius' legs and feet. They gazed in adoration back at her. She was their leader. Their warrior-captain. She teased Garius' prick with her forefinger, then eased the knife out of the trunk.

"Maybe you need haircut...." she said. "Round balls, I mean...."

Garius returned her gaze. He controlled the momentary shaking of his legs, then opened his lips and oscillated his tongue lasciviously - first towards her mouth, then towards her bush. Behind the dark night of stars painted on her face, it was impossible to see if she blushed. But for a moment she gripped the knife harder, till the knuckles gleamed white. Then she laughed and cut him free of his thongs.

"That boy there....." She made a dismissive gesture towardds me with her chin. "Only good as catamite. Dying in combat too good for him."

She looked down at the girls and said something to them in their own language. They laughed and rose, their silken bodies gleaming in the light of the dying sun. They came towards me, hauled me to my feet, pushed and punched and slapped me, drove me back to the tree, and once more tied my wrists above my head.

"So who want suck off pretty boy when I cut belly open?"

I gave an involuntary sob. My head swooned. Reeled. My legs turned to water. I felt as though I was falling into a terrifying black hole, my body and soul draining away from me and into the earth. My body sagged. I rolled in my bonds. Tears were trickling down my cheeks. I heard a plaintive whispering echoing in my ears and worming into my brain: "No....no....no....please.....no...."

The girls clamoured forward, wanting to be the one. Even Tarna was there, lingering on the edge of the group, the sunset on her face smudged by tears and battle. Her hand was raised. Her eyes were set upon Dela. They were wide and sad, moist with tears, imploring.

"All want!" said Dela exultantly. "So who you choose? I got right of belly-stab; but who got right of cock-suck?"

My intestines were cold and palpitating with fear, and yet the sweet juice of sex tingled in my phallus.

"Tarna....." I whispered.

"Tarna lucky girl!" shrieked one of the others. "I so jealous. Maybe should slap his bum bit-bit harder just now!"

Tarna edged forard. She gazed with sad longing into my eyes. she kissed my lips and I felt the cold premonition of death in the touch of her tongue. Then she ran her hands over my chest, over my belly, describing slow, poignant arcs. She felt the coldness of my skin, the trembling of my flesh, the warm blood shrinking away to the core of my being, retreating there in expectation of death.

Then she sank to her knees. Caressed my belly. Stroked my balls. Ran her hands round my buttocks.

Then, sighing, she opened her lips and slid my prick into her mouth. I closed my eyes in a sudden drawn-out delight as her tongue probed the veins of the shaft, tantalised the head, prised at the slit. She was trying, in her own bewildered way, to work inside me and uncouple the meaning of her mystery and mine. The mystery that drove us on to sex and death.

As though in some faraway dream I heard Dela speaking. A jumbled drift of words. Without meaning. Then I was conscious of a rough male body pressing against my back, his hands gliding round my chest, puckering up the meat of my breast, tweaking the nipples. I felt his prick urge between my buttocks. His hands slip down to my belly, his finger digging into my belly button, pressing deep into the gut. His prick rubbing against my buttocks, probing my anus.

It was Garius. For the coward who was afraid to die there would be no more appropriate end. Run through from the front by a woman; run through from the rear by a man. With the solace of the girl whom I knew I loved drawing my death out into some final, sublime ecstasy.

I sighed as their hands glided over my body. I abandoned myself to pleasure and despair.

Yet i knew I had to resist. Knew that as soon as I succumbed to her ministrations, as soon as my prick leapt, and spunk foamed, then, on the pinnacle of joy, Dela would thrust the blade into my guts and bring us both soaring to orgasm. vAnd Tarna knew too. That was why she coaxed me into such velvet pleasure, then, when the tide of craving rose at the root of my prick, she paused, withdrew, sucked more delicately, more deliberately, disguising the motions of her tongue, seeking to control the beast that was pulsing deep down in my balls.

But it was futile. Even faced with death, Tarna and I could not curb our fatal impulses. No more than Garius could harness his predatory cock; no more than Dela could abate her craving for blood. We were all helpless before the terrible gods hacked out of our lusts. They worked within us, these gods; they worked to destroy us.

I lurched backwards in my bonds, straining at the thongs. My prick jerked insode her mouth, a raw bow of desire seeking to penetrate her soul. I gave out a long wail of abandonment, as though my own soul was leaping from me. And she hugged me closer, and her tongue, instead of stilling, responded to the deep needs of her own flesh, and oscillated more urgently, sucking at the slit, drawing the warm tide of spunk ever onwards into the welcome death of her mouth. I shrieked. my prick leapt in a sudden uncontrollable frenzy. Her nails dug into my flesh; her lips gripped the base of my cock, dragging the shaft deeper inside her. And I felt in that terrible moment of ecstasy and despair, the point of Dela's blade prick my bellyflesh, felt it glide, almost without pain, into my guts. Then I shrieked again. Searing agony shot from bowels to brain. I screamed. My intestines squirmed and writhed as the tip of the blade furrowed upwards. Felt my belly buck and heave, my guts jerk and quiver.

I opened my eyes. Through the blur of tears, I saw the handle of the knife wedged in my belly, just above the cock, Dela's bloodied knuckles pressing into my flesh, forcing the blade deeper into my guts. Blood trickled in tiny chaotic streams down abdomen and thigh. Tarna's eyes were open too. She was gazing, wide-eyed and sorrowful, at the knife protruding from my heaving belly. Blood was splattered on her breasts, splashed on her belly. It freckled her cheeks, then melted invisibly into the smudged sunset of her face.

Dela withdrew the blade. Slowly. Enthralled by the dark red blood glistening on the silver surface, by the drops hanging from the edge like tiny vermilion jewels. She nodded at Garius. Suddenly his hands gripped my belly, his gnarled finger worming into the navel-pit, squeezing the blood out of my body in thick red torrents. I groaned in terror and despair. His prick was jostling against my anus. Then he penetrated me, his cock surging through my throbbing tripes, his bush rubbing against my smooth buttocks. He humped against me, driving himself in as far as he could go. I shrieked in agony and terror. In a dim, distant other-world I sensed Tarna taking my balls in her trembling hand, caressing them, licking them. My prick stirring into a strange, poignant hardness. Through my tears I watched the dribble of spunk condense at the slit, as she drew the rod once more into her mouth, offering me joy in the agony of death.

My body was shaking. In fierce, raging spasms. Through the mist of tears, through a vision of glistening blood and shivering flesh, I saw a bubble of intestine push through the slit in my belly. I gasped in horror. My legs shook and my feet slapped against the ground in terror.

"No.....no.....no...." I whimpered.

I heard Dela laugh; heard Garius grunt as he pumped away. Felt something huge, throbbing and defiant inside my belly surge forth through the wound. Mesmerised by the horror of death, I saw the bubble worm out, become a shining loop, and jerking inside the loop, through the translucent white membrane, glistening with blood and grease, I saw the outline of Garius' cock. It was as if some monster, conceived inside me, was writhing through the thick, soft darkness of my gut, seeking the light, seeking birth.

There was silence from the girls. They watched in awe. Only Tarna had closed her eyes, drawing away from the cruel reality of death into her own dream-world of imagination and delight.

But no dream-world could disguise this horror for me.

Dela was now on her knees, easing Garius' prick through the widening gash above my bush. With her knife she slit open the membrane. A thin viscous tide of blood and grease and shit oozed out.

She called for water to be poured down my jerking abdomen. Washing away the blood, cleaning his prick. Dela snuggled up close to me, close to Tarn. They were cheek to cheek, Tarna sucking my cock, Dela sucking Garius', their faces soaked with blood. Dela's nose pressed into my belly, her lips sucked at my wound. Suddenly Garius began jerking more rapidly, his prick huge and wild like an untameable beast, shearing through my tripes. I screamed in terror and agony as he came. Dela's hands gripped my buttocks, pressed me closer. We shivered as one protoplasm, Garius shooting his cum into her mouth and the last dribbles of my own milk trickling into Tarna's.

My head slumped onto my chest. I was exhausted. Swooning into death. Through unfocused eyes, I watched, helplessly, crying with despair, as Dela took the knife again. I begged her not to. Knowing all along what she was going to do. Yet watched in terrified disbelief as she inserted the tip into my belly button and slit open my abdomen, down to where Gariu's still firm penis gleamed arrogantly from its torn and bloody sheath. My entrails quaked. My belly heaved. I gave out one last lingering moan of pathos and protest. Then the wound peeled open like a flower, and the great white-red bloom of my intestines slid out of my belly in some terrible birth, drowning Garius' cock once more in blood and guts. I glimpsed Dela's face below, black as night, the beautiful blue-green world smeared and ruined with blood, her hands raised up in a gesture of supplication, receiving, as consolation, the warm, voluptuous offering of my tripes.

The End


Written by Tony. Comments welcome. [email protected]

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