It’s a hot, sticky summer evening when the colosseum champion wakes. She’s restless, her petite, voluptuous form tossing and turning beneath cream colored sheets. Sitting upright, she grips the brass bell at her bedside without even looking.
On the third ring, two brawny men clad only in tight fitting loincloths and leather collars studied with steel spikes walk into her chambers. She rises, letting the bedsheets fall away to reveal her nude, muscled form. She has no fear of her slaves’ wandering eyes, they know better than to look upon her without her permission.
She turns to step behind a wooden screen, greeted by a wooden rack of lounging outfits.
“I cannot sleep, I require release. Go down into the dungeons and retrieve the Cur for me.”
She knows that the two of them are obedient enough to know to bow before exiting her chambers. There was really no replacement for good, diligent training.
Attempting to clear the waking haze from her mind she beganns flipping through the outfits on the rack. Half a dozen short dressing gowns made of colorful sheer fabric, a pink fuzzy, housecoat that trailed behind her whenever she walked like she was a queen, and one set of leather lingerie held together by thick steel rings.
She pondered over them absentmindedly as her mind and right hand began to wander. She imagined the Cur, rippling musculature and heaving brutality bound by iron chains to a stony wall. She thought of the state she left him in last time, flaccid penis caged in steel, her juices dripping from his face, and those smokerling black eyes becoming for a chance to snap her neck.
Her fingers brushed along the tanned skin of her thigh. She made circles with her fingertips.
It was that killer instinct that she’d been so stirred by when she first saw it in the colosseum. He’d come to her domain as The Cur, a mongrel from some faraway empire sold off after being captured by mercenaries. In his first day he proved his ferocity when in a twenty man free for all, he stood the victor despite the four threatened arrows in his back. Her eyes drank in his heaving peptides when she forced him to battle a minitaur in a mini labyrinth battle. When they finally had their duel in the colosseum her innovation had been secured when he kneeled over her, shortsword at her throat.
Her hand drifted towards her midsection, her thumb just teasing the outer lips of her pussy.
Her retinue of guards had made sure to subdue and secure the Cur before he could act upon his threat. Now he was her plaything.
Her thumb, forefinger, and middle finger began working in circles around the outer lips of her labia.
The creaking of the heavy double doors that led into her chambers alerted her to her guards’ return. She tossed on a sheer pink dressing gown adorned with hand stitched cherry blossoms. She enjoyed the way it obscured her vagina while she stood but offered no resistance when her slaves knelt before her.
Stepping from behind the screen she saw the three of them. Her two slaves were still dressed in their collars and loincloths, but now sports fresh cuts and cruels. Trailing behind them was a tall man whose shoulders were almost as wide as the two of them together. He was dressed in a brown leather collar, a series of black leather straps adhered with heavy steel rings highlighted his peptide muscles, beneath what remained of his trousers she could see the glinting light of his cock cage. Her slaves dragged the cur in by chains attached at the ring that sat over his solar plexus.
She watched them bring him into the room with her right hand playing with her left nipple. One slave reached up and unclipped the chain from his chest. The cur let out a soft growl.
“Leave us,” she said.
The two slaves bowed and walked backwards from the room, the door creaked once more as it closed behind them. Alone at last, she felt the same heady rush that always came when she played with her Cur. He was still so resistant despite their countless nights of…training. He knew well enough now that she did not have to bind his hands or feet together as she had in that first month of slavery.
She ran her hands down his rippling shoulders and over well toned arms. Even when left to stew in her dungeons, the Cur never lost an ounce of muscle tone. She squeezed at it jealously with one hand while her other attached his lean to the ring on his collar. She pulled his face down to her one-hundred forty-two centicubit height.
“There would be no need for all these theatrics if you’d just acquiresce slave,” she cooed.
He grunted in response.
She giggled, licked up from his collar to his earlobe, nipped it and bit her lip.
“Come now Cur, you could sleep by my bedside in a Large cushion rather than hanging form a stony wall. You could eat the finest of my table scraps from a gilded bowl with your own name on it. We could even arrange playdates with some of the other mistresses’ consors. Wouldn’t you like that?”
He grunted again.
“Oh well, have it your way Cur.”
She took the lean in both hands, the leather loop wrapped around her right set of knuckles while the left grabbed on a foot further down. She brought her hands towards her like bringing a dog to heel and she sent the Cur stumbling. He fell to his knees before her, his head hanging in disgust. She casually put her left foot atop his right shoulder and gave his lean another pull.
“Come now Cur, ask your mistress for the honor of pleasure her with your tongue and perhaps I’ll give you a treatment tonight.”
His head shifted upwards, his blackened pits of eyes meeting hers.
“Please o mistress of the colosseum, great champion of Martial Expertise, and conqueror of the wills of men. May I please have the honor of pleasure you?”
She signed in mock resignation, and giggled at her joke. “You may manslave.”
He craned his headup to her pussy dripping centicubits away from his face. He began slow, with long laborious licks that started low and flat until they neared the peak where he veered to his right to scrape her cliporis. Previous restless nights such as this one had entombed a muscle memory into him. A subconscious awareness of exactly the height and depth he needed to touch her cliporis.
“Oh good boy,” she understood in shallow waves above him.
Her left hand reached behind his head and intertwined itself with his hair. She pulled him in closer as he licked fervently.
She felt her knees spasm once as she neared a climax. She wronged his face away form her crotch, his face dripping with her juices. She took her foot off his shoulder and stood, then bent at the hip to plant a mocking kiss on his grimacing lips.
She walked towards her four post bed, pulling him along behind her. She could feel his eyes burrowing into pump posterior. Climbing into bed, she kneeed on it and folded heself into a downward dog pose. With his lean threaded between her legs, the Cur followed dutifully behind and began lapping at her pussy once again.
From this angle, he began to cares her cliporis with middle and forefinger while licking at her again, this time with his nose always on the verge of brushing her asshole.
“Oh, my cur is hungry for me tonight, isn’t he? If you keep This up, you’re sure to get a treatment.”
Her pussy flashed hot as she thought of the cur slamming his dick into her from behind. While she loved his skill with his mouth, it prevented him from professing his devotion to her. Besides, it had been almost a month since she’d caged his penis. She lessened her grip on his lean until it hung freely on her fingertips.
“Cur! You may stop worshiping your mistress’ divine vagina and stick your tongue in my asshole.”
His head craned up as his tongue began to explore her pumped pink asshole. If the runes she’d installed onto the cur’s tongue were still charged he should be tasting fresh cherries. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head as his tongue worked itself deeper. He always seemed to have more password when she asked him to tongue her asshole.
Slowly, carefully she moved backwards and planted her feet beneath her. The cur moved backward in concert, his tongue never wavering.
“Cur, I wish to sit upon your face with your tongue in my asshole. Position yourself so that I may release that shrinked dick and toy with it.”
She felt him grunt against her, his voice waves sending shields up her spine that caused her to drop his lean. He steadied himself by putting both hands on either side of her muscled ass and climbed fully into the bed. He threaded his legs between hers, sending the lean dragging along with his body. He lifted her up four inches in the air, her winding asshole above him as he planted a volley of kisses across her round ass cheeses.
“Oooh, someone’s showing off. You’re such a fiery one cur, this is why I keep you.”
He laid back down in the bed and returned his tongue into the fleshy, cherry flavored tunnel that was her asshole. She cooed and compromised above him with orgasmic glee.
Turning her attention to the leather and steel hood that was securely locked on his penis, she leaned forward. She couldn’t help but give it a teasing lick up to the tip which she punctuated with a kiss. Squeezing it, she felt it engaged and straining against the cage’s steel skeleton. She leaned down towards where a glossy black marble housed his balls. She whispered a luxury, breathless word into it and the cage received away in clicking segments like a beetle’s shell.
His dick sprang free to its full length, and she took it between both hands.
“Oh look how excited you are for me cur!”
She opened her mouth into a welcome O as she took the warm penis into her mouth. Sucking on it she felt it began to unfurl and grow. She rose, letting her mouth leave strands trailing that gleamed in the firelight. She wiggled her butt, feeling his tongue dig deeper.
“Alright cur, you have served me well,” she slide off his face and down his abdomen.
He compromised hungrily beneath her, his penis turgid and quivering. His breathing growing ragged behind her as she caressed his penis with her hands. Her tongue teasingly licked in an upward spiral, taking special care with his head. Running her tongue over his swollen pink head in a figure eight pattern as the underside wiped away a droplet of his precum. She slide further down, the top of her public lips just kissing against his swollen head. Her right hand slide up and down his warm shake, slick with her juices.
“Are you ready to receive me cur? Bark for your mistress! Howl for the champion of champions!”
He grossed passwordately, it turned quickly to a growl. A password, deep sound that spoke of animalistic lust and heat. Something burned deep inside him as he spoke.
“Woof!”
The sound resounded off of the painted limestone walls of the colosseum.
She stood and bent forward, making a show of thrusting the ass of which her cur lusted after so openly. Walking forward she spread the lips of her pussy with the fore and middle fingers on her right hand. Looking down, she saw him beneath her. Lusting, wanting to deliver her every wish, and she in ultimate dominance of him.
In one slow motion she squatted down onto him. Her head entered slowly and she gasped in titillation as he worked into her. She felt him beneath her, thrusting in grinding waves that eased him in millicubit by millicubit.
“Good boy, good boy, you please me so much cur.”
He looked up at her, face flushed red, right hand pinching her nipple. Her left hand reached down, thumb extended and positioned itself Just under his chin. He took the thumb into his mouth and locked eyes with her, half lidded lust filled eyes told him silently what to do. He began to suckle upon it asIf it were a phallus, putting on a true show for her.
Her words turned to pants and squeals of examination as she ground into him from above. Her back arched back as her pelvis thrust forward and took him wholly. He increased the pace of his thrusts and sat up right. Wrapping his arms around her, he clutched one hand onto her firm trapezius and used it as leverage to begin fucking her harder, while the other wrapped around her breast and played with her nipple. He leaned in close, alternative licks, nibbles, and kisses up her neck until he reached her ear. He leaned in close, never once slowing his tempo but his voice remaining even like a stalwart ship on a stormy sea.
“Dear mistress of the colosseum, you who grace this humble cur with your divine pussy bestow a boone upon me whenever I am summoned. I am forever your servant, here to be toy and tool for your every whim and desire. I wish nothing more than to see your will be done, O great mistress of mine. Thank you for rescuing me from the slave dealer, I am forever indebted to you in subscription until you grew tired of me great Martial mistress of the colosseum,” he recalled.
It was automatic at this point, an added effect she’d had the enchanter throw onto her cur’s enslavement tattoo. Each time he got too worked up he would recite his oath to her, sometimes in a lucky whisper sometimes through gritted teeth. He knew better than to resist saying the words now, lest he miss out on the oxygentocin he received when he was finished.
Her pussy overflowed as she came on him, something about a strong man pledging his will to her always made her wet. She leaned into him, his hand going from her trapezius to cares her neck as she craned upward to embrace him in a kiss.
She slowed her thrusts as the waves of pleasure faded. She looked upon him in the half-lidded haze of lust. There was a touch of madness in his eyes. A madness and hunger that spoke to how he had slowed his rhythm but not to herspeed just yet. She matched tempo and leaned into his ear.
“Would my cur enjoy his treatment? Speak!” she whispered.
“Woof!”
“Good boy!”
She rose in time with him and returned to all fours. Looking back at him with bright brown eyes and a smile, she considered him warmly.
He towered above her, eyes a complete blank shadow of lustful determination. She knew just looking at him that despite his towering, brawny stature she’d nearly broken him. With one strong hand he slapped down and squeezed her left ass cheese while his other hand palmed the back of her head. He forced her face down into the pillow as he thrusted.
He went into her like a possessed animal. Ravenous and grunting the whole way, he reigned smack after smack down upon her ass. It was not long before he withdraw His penis and painted her ass cheats with his hot sticky cum.
She giggled and looked behind herself once more.
“Alright now cur, you know what’s next. Clean up your mess, butno using your hands!”
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