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 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, "Yeeeeaaaaaahhhhhh-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."