CHAPTER 6: PRECIOUS SLAVES
Roars and cheers shake the wooden structures of the pits. Ale and the stench of drunken men spoil the air yet exhilaration seep into the bones of the crowd as they scream. Heat cooks up this narrowed structure as it is filled with people carrying interest of the sport on display.
The Pits stands 20 feet high with a square shaped arena at its bottom. The arena is filled with shallow sand and edges carved of mud brick. Sweat and blood nourishes the arena and enriches the crowd, "Raiko! Raiko!! Raiko!!!" the crowd calls out as the behemoth of a man swings a massive hammer in hand against his smaller opponent whom dodges with swift feet.
Scars decorate Raiko's ebony skin to show his years of experience in the pits and yet the smaller man eludes him like water through basket. Kane dances around with the agility of a serpent, in a blur of motion, he darts beneath Raiko's swing. His dagger, a venomous serpent seeking purchase in Raiko's exposed flesh. A searing pain erupts in Raiko's thigh as Kane's blade find its mark.
Blood spills and Raiko responds with a kick to Kane's chest, he falls backward and sees the descending hammer but rolls away before metal meets chest. Kane gets to his feet; he enters Raiko's range to deliver little cuts and slipping out of it to elude the hammer. These cuts are nothing to Raiko but they paint his body in blood. Kane moves in again but this Raiko meets his aggression head-on. The hammer handle, wielded like a bludgeon, is smashed into Kane's face causing a ruby-red stream to trace a path down his nose. Disoriented, Kane's jaw meets fist and the world tilts on its axis.
One can hear Barabas in the crowd shout, "Not the face,".
Raiko shouts and the intoxicated crowd praise his name, a good showing but a grave mistake. Upon returning his attention to the blue-eyed boy, sand enters his own and Kane slashes his blade across Raiko's chest. 300 pounds of muscle, vexed and pain endured he grabs Kane by the hand and punches him again.
Blood and bruises make his skin sore, but his mind remains sharp and he greets Raiko's incoming fist with his dagger, sticking it between fingers and forcing the giant to scream in pain while Kane cuts clean two of his fingers.
Raiko drops his hammer and delivers a powerful left hook to Kane's jaw, rattling him. Both men bleed and carry bruises as proof of a worthy battle. Kane gives feint and shifts to the right, he gives a deep cut to Raiko's thigh, drawing blood to greet sand. Raiko falls on one knee and with swift movement, Kane picks the hammer and swings with all his might, Raiko's face greets steel weight and he falls with unconscious gaze.
The crowd screams in madness and joy as Kane stands alone in the arena with victory as his own.
Weeks melt away in Pyrrhus, each day a reminder of Kane and Emilia's captive status as Lord Barabas' most prized possessions. Kane, a vision of ethereal beauty with stark white hair and eyes the colour of a stormy sea held captive with their depths.
He soon becomes envied and is quickly tested in the brutal proving grounds of Pyrrhus, a gladiatorial arena where survival is the ultimate prize. Everyone expected him to die but to their greatest surprise Kane proves difficult to kill in the heinous world he is thrown into but gradually his soul becomes tainted with circumstance.
Emilia, the prized jewel amongst Barabas' properties. As custom, slaves are branded but not her. He would not dare taint her perfect skin with such harshness but nonetheless, his slave she remains. Always by his side, covered in hooded clothes so men would not lay eyes on her beauty while he uses her innocence for his pleasure in ways one would not expect.
This night would be one of such nights where Lord Barabas would have his fantasies satisfied.
The night's wind is hot as it usually is in Erebos and Kane has survived another night in the pits, gladiatorial grounds of steel and flesh.
Kane walk with guards behind him, not for his protection but for his execution if he should ever go against the words of his masters. Beautiful are his eyes but they hold no emotion, whips and blades have buried such things underneath his heart. He holds them down while pondering the day when he will leave these torturous grounds.
He wears nothing but a loincloth, exposing his back which now holds scars and a brand on his chest. The guards stop at the doors of a room which Kane enters without hesitation; he has been here several times so he knows what is to happen.
Something he secretly yearned for when he first came to this world but circumstances gave it to him, in ways that did not please him. Deep down he is torn about what he is to do. The act, though pleasurable he would prefer another way to get it.
The room, though spacious, feels intimate, its walls veiled by heavy draperies. A four-poster bed looms large, a stark contrast to the vibrant splash of crimson chairs opposite. Between them, a table groans under the weight of a lavish display; glistening fruits and a decanter of ruby wine.
And seated in the midst of such pleasantries is Lord Barabas, dressed in purple regalia like he is of royalty. Since Kane arrived here that is one thing he had noticed about their master, he was quite fashionable compared to the rest of the lords in the household.
Lord Barabas gestures toward the bed where Emilia reclines, her scant attire barely concealing her form. Kane, despite himself, finds a perverse comfort in this spectacle, a fleeting respite from the cruelties of his present existence.
Kane glances at Barabas who drinks from a cup, he walks to the bed and climbs in; his moody face falls like shattered glass as Emilia smiles at him.
Beneath him, her smile brings a warmth that soothes his soul. Her hand traces gentle patterns through his silvered hair, while her emerald gaze meets the steady blue of his, "I'm glad you came back to me," she says, "It is what motivates me to win my fights," he says.
They both smile unlike the first time when they were both nervous, "Please, kiss me" she says and he obliges. He bends down and lock lips with her. They are soft against his, her hands press behind his neck with gentle touch.
Their kiss is gentle and passionate, their hands caress each other's back. She traces his scars and he rubs her thighs, she lets out a little laugh, "I'm ticklish," "I know," he says and kisses her.
He cradles one of her breasts, a firm pressure eliciting a soft moan from her lips as his hand expertly kneads her nipple. Their tongues dance a passionate duet, her fingers entwined in his hair, both lost in the intoxicating intimacy of the moment.
The touch of her soft skin makes his member rigid and alive. Emilia reaches close to his ear, "You have fought hard today. Relax, let me pleasure you" she whispers to him and ushers him to lie on his back.
The softness of the bed soaks him in while Emilia climbs on top, she begins to kiss his collar bone while one finger plays with his nipple.
"Make sure to take your time," Barabas says.
He enjoys watching, it is his thing. He hardly ever takes part in the pleasures of the flesh but he loves watching others do the did and his latest slaves have become his recent muse.
Both of whom he considers rare specimen, gift from the gods to satisfy his canal desires. Cup in one hand, the other underneath his attire, caressing his own nipple as he watches Emilia lick Kane's. She feels Kane's hard shaft pressing against her belly while his hands massage her back and her ass.
"I didn't want it be like this," he says, she sits up and begin to undo the loincloth around his waist, "I know but if fate would put me on this path, I am glad that it is with you", her hand strokes his shaft while directing it to her wetness, "My chosen one," she slips it in while locking eyes with him.
His hands find her waist while she grinds forward and backward, head raised with pleasure coursing through her body like the blood in her veins. Her hips move aggressively and his hand grabs her ass tightly, as if by instinct he slaps her ass hard, "Ah yes," she moans but she is not the only one aroused by this.
"Yes," Barabas says as he drops his cup down and slips his hand into his pants, his eyes watch with psychotic hunger as Emilia rides on.
She feels Kane's shaft against the walls of her insides, pressing against the walls underneath her navel.
Her cries deepen, each moan a raw, primal expression of pleasure. Kane's gaze remain riveted on the undulating swell of her breasts, their movement hypnotic. Her hands, soft as velvet, pressed against his chest, a counterpoint to the rhythm of her own body. She bites down on her lips, a gesture of intense focus, while his hand cups and squeezes her breast, a gesture both intimate and brazen.
Soft moans escapes Kane's lips as his shaft gets harder inside her and her juices slide down his member, their eyes meet and their lips greet with touch and tongue.
He sits upright while she keeps riding him. She captures his head, gently forcing it against her breasts, allowing his tongue to explore their fullness. Their softness yields beneath his lips as one arm instinctively draws her closer.
Her moans fill fill his ears, a discordant symphony broken only by the grunts of their master, who watches with hand clamped around his own erection.
His two beautiful creatures fucking to his own pleasure or is it he touching himself to theirs. Nevertheless, all parties' close eyes and see their own heaven as pleasures bring the night to a close.