The town of Bheketha lay in tatters. A trail of ransacked villas and more modest homes littered the town while the occasional fire burned unquenched and unattended. The gladiator-slave revolt of Prythia had reached a fever-pitch. All across southern Prythia slave and gladiator alike had risen up against the Imperium upper caste. Now, Anaria Kaelon, daughter of one of the wealthiest Imperium families in Bheketha, found herself at the mercy of one of the rebel leaders. Gorlann had his hand clasped around hers, pulling her down the marble staircase which led from the second to the main floor of her family's once immaculate villa. In his other fist he held a draw-string pouch containing all of Anaria's mother's jewelry and precious gemstones. Anaria had agreed to show Gorlann where her mother hid her valuables in hopes that her cooperation would ensure that her parents' lives would at least be spared.

"Hurry, Imperium cunt, the sun wanes and dusk approaches," the gladiator said brusquely.

As they neared the bottom of the steps, which widened into the villa's banquet hall, both Anaria and the grizzled gladiator heard the sounds of grunts and moaning. Anaria's gaze darted in the direction of her father's study. Even now she knew that her father was still tied up in front of the villa to one of the trees in the manicured parkway, naked and helpless. The male grunts coming from her father's study, whoever they belonged to, were not his.

Equally as curious as she, Gorlann pulled her along toward the study. They walked in to find a gladiator hard at work. He stood naked, his most arresting feature being a vicious, angry-looking scar that sliced from his left bicep all the way down to his forearm. He had a naked girl bent over Lord Kaelon's marble-top desk. The serving girl had golden pigtails which streamed down both sides of her back. The gladiator had bound the girl's wrists behind her back with a length of torn drapery. Judging from the golden braids and pale skin, the serving girl hailed from the northern kingdom of Tercania. The Tercanians were a dutiful, submissive people, often shipped from the outlying provinces to Prythian markets to serve as household staff to the Imperium well-to-do. But this Tercanian serving girl was no mere foreigner to Anaria, and she abruptly found herself recognizing that face.

The girl's name was Latya. She served the house of Berlune. The Berlune family owned the villa just north of the Kaelon estate. The two families were rivals, competitors, and so Anaria only remembered a few brief visitations between the two families. She remembered, only vaguely, a few times when Latya had served her picturesquely arranged rows of delectable meats, cheeses, and figs on a silver platter amid evening candlelight and murmured conversation. How quaint and far off that world now seemed in this new and savage reality.

"Uhhh!!!! Ahhhh!!" Latya's moans carried through the villa like a song.

Meanwhile, Anaria winced as she saw Latya's breasts pressed against the cold, hard marble countertop of the desk. The nameless gladiator had one hand pressed to the side of the girl's face, pressing her cheek roughly against that same hard marble surface as he fucked her roughly from behind. His deep thrusts created a tiny echo each time his body smacked into hers. The girl's eyes were closed, her body rocking to the force of his ruthless fucks. How unreal it seemed to Anaria, seeing a girl being raped over the very same desk she was used to seeing her father sit at while poring over his scrolls and documents; it seemed almost impossible to reconcile the two images, one mundane, one horrific, now imprinted on her mind like opposite sides of the same coin. The nameless gladiator looked up with surprise at Gorlann and his girl-companion, though he did not for a moment slow down the pace of his rape.

"UH!!! UH! General, look at this dainty treat I found hiding next door. She has a fine pussy. It's a ball-milking paradise." Saying this, the man -- Anaria had already named him 'Scar-Arm' in her head -- continued to pummel the poor serving girl, thrusting so deep until only his swinging testicles showed where his body joined with his victim's.

"AHH!!! Please! Slower! Ahhhh!" the girl squeaked, but Scar-Arm ignored her. With a loud SMACK, he swatted each of her ass cheeks in turn, continuing to rail her slender body with his savage fucks. It was no wonder that the blonde captive's butt cheeks already sported bright red handprints. Meanwhile, Scar-Arm growled at her, "Keep moaning, bitch. I know you like taking cock. Be content with what I give you. Or do you want me to gut you like your former owners?"

That seemed to dissolve whatever protests remained as the girl simply whimpered.

"No, Sir, please fuck me. I'll behave." Her moans resumed, and his thrusts picked up tempo, though that was barely possible.

At the same time, Anaria noticed with interest how Gorlann didn't seem offended by Scar-Arm's overly familiar attitude. As leader of a war-band, Gorlann was unlike any man she had read about in the annals of Imperium war-tales or heard about in the battle-songs. Whereas the Imperium valued hierarchy, order, and formal obedience above all else, these gladiators were an egalitarian lot at ease with chaos; even Gorlann, Anaria marveled, acted like just one warrior among many, spoken to as casually as one brother might address another. Despite loathing the sight of the rape before her, she couldn't help but be fascinated by the gladiators' unusual ways -- like night to the Imperium's day.

In some ways, she realized, these unheralded brutes of Prythian society, these inimitable gladiators who until now had fought to satisfy the Imperium's lust for spectacle and violence at a safely prescribed distance, were complete foreigners to her. She found them both savage and yet mesmerizing in their own perverse way. Given her sheltered upbringing, they might as well have come from another planet.

Gorlann, meanwhile, now grinned at his fellow gladiator. "Vercingador, I am happy for you, but time slips through our fingers. Finish up with this Tercanian cunt and be quick about it, then meet up with the others at Eagle's Hill." Gorlann paused, seemed thoughtful for a moment, and then motioned at Anaria.

"You will assist him while I take one last look around your family's villa."

Anaria froze. Understanding eluded her.

"Assist him? Master?" What could he mean?

Gorlann cupped her ass and shoved her forward into her father's study. "You heard me, slut. Obey him. Help enhance his pleasure as he finishes taking his sport with the blonde cunt. If you cannot even follow simple instructions, bitch, then you're no good to him or to me. Do you understand?"

Anaria froze in shock. Moments earlier, upstairs in her parents' bedroom, Gorlann had shown a trace of tenderness with her. He had even placed a gorgeous amber necklace on her and complimented her beauty. Now he had abruptly changed tone altogether, treating her like a common whore, forcing her into this demeaning act helping one of his own men rape another helpless victim. How could this Gorlann almost seem like a man one second and then revert into a total beast the next? Anaria's head spun, but she did her best to obey.

She turned meekly toward Scar-Arm -- the one Gorlann had called Vercingador.

Not wasting time, the gladiator motioned behind him. "Kneel behind me, girl. You can flick your tongue against my balls while I fuck this pussy. Hurry!" Gorlann had already stepped away for his final walkthrough of the villa.

Meanwhile, feeling degraded beyond belief, Anaria knelt. The naked Imperium girl now had a perfect view of Scar-Arm's clenched buttocks and testicles jostling as he fucked his tied-up, bent-over victim. Latya's moans continued in time to the rhythm of the gladiator's thrusts. Anaria could see that cock lance Latya's pussy each time, sliding effortlessly into her welcoming wetness. Anaria had to be careful. It was no easy feat keeping her mouth close enough so that she could lick the gladiator's balls while not being so close that each time he pulled backward for another thrust she did not get smacked in the face with his swinging testicles. For the next several minutes Anaria just knelt there, feeling less than human, her tongue gently flicking against his swinging balls each time they flew back toward her face. It seemed to take forever, but finally the man mounted the precipice toward a furious climax.

"UHHHH!!!! Tercanian slut, get ready to take my load deep in your womb. AHHH!"

Latya's moans and panting spiked in tempo. Vercingador's forceful fucks became even more frantic before a plaintive groan tore through his lips. She squealed the moment the brawny gladiator seized up, his body stiffening as he shot wave after wave of jism, his thick ropes of cum blasting through her pussy with their life-giving sperm. Though neither the girl nor her rapist could know it at the time, Vercingador's virility had succeeded in impregnating his victim.

Next, Anaria could only watch in disgust as Vercingador finally pulled out of Latya's snatch. She was about to feel relief that at least it was now over, but before she could move away the gladiator's hand was already cupping the back of her head, bunching up in her raven-black tresses, and now he forced her face toward the blonde's exposed pussy.

"Clean her up, Imperium brat. Lick PUSSY. What are you waiting for?"

"No! Wait!" But Anaria's protests were muffled by the flavors of cunt juice mingling with jism as Vercingador thrust her face into Latya's ravaged hole. Anaria tried to overcome her disgust as the gladiator's flavorful, salty spunk leaked from between Latya's swollen labia, trailing down her tongue to fill her palate. Anaria's nostrils flared as she took in Latya's pungent scent of arousal, her fluids shining on Anaria's nose as the girl unwillingly lapped at her fellow captive's pussy. It felt so revolting and demeaning that words could hardly convey the despair Anaria felt. And yet... some truths, shameful as they could be, were undeniable. The way Latya responded to the caresses of Anaria's tongue, the way Latya shivered and trembled as Anaria nibbled tenderly on the girl's clitoris, surrendering to the moment, that managed to send a thrill through the 18-year-old girl. Anaria couldn't have articulated it, but the feeling of power, of eliciting such intense responses, even from a fellow woman though Anaria had no attraction to women, that had a profound appeal in the deepest, most primal corners of her mind.

"Mmmm!!!" Anaria's quiet but fervent licking and slurping progressed steadily. Distantly, Anaria became aware of Latya's gentle coos, the girl's body shivering with delight as Anaria continued to lave, caress, and suck on her most intimate folds. Anaria gasped then, startled as Latya began to not-so-subtly grind her pussy backward against Anaria's striving tongue. Quite abruptly, though, a hand now jerked her back by the hair so hard that she let out a yelp. A calloused palm then lashed her across the cheek. The slap disoriented her, and the naked girl fell backward to the floor, stunned, looking up at the gladiator's swaying cock looming like a god above her.

"I said CLEAN her pussy, not give her pleasure, bitch. You should be smart enough to know the difference. Clearly the General hasn't had much time to train you yet, but don't worry, you'll learn soon enough if you value your life." The gladiator pulled her back up to her knees and proceeded to wipe his sated cock along her forehead and cheeks, smearing the fluids from Latya's raped pussy and his own leftover seed all over her face. Satisfied with this brutal 'makeover,' he then ordered Anaria to open her mouth and thrust his semi-firm shaft roughly down her throat. Eyes watering, Anaria desperately clenched her hands along his ass cheeks, squeezing her tiny fists the closer she came to blacking out due to lack of air. Finally, when it seemed her lungs might explode, the ruthless gladiator pulled out his now re-hardened erection. A string of cum hung from Anaria's bottom lip to the tip of Vercingador's cock.

"Not bad for an inexperienced teenage pussy. The General will have you sucking us all off around the campfire each night. Your body will do wonders to keep us warm under the frost-rimed trees and the chill eye of the moon. But you will have to be useful in ANY way we see fit. Hmmm, which reminds me, I need to take a piss. Open your mouth, whore, and prepare to swallow."

Anaria's eyes widened. She forgot the fresh cum dribbling down her bottom lip and chin as the horror of what he was implying cut to her very core. Did he really want to piss in her mouth? What kind of sick, twisted brutes were these gladiators? They seemed even lower than animals. Just when she was about to balk and turn her head away, she heard Gorlann's footsteps. With purposeful strides he interrupted the rape-in-progress.

"That's enough. You had your time to play, not to mention my own cunt lent to maximize your pleasure." He reached a hand out toward Anaria. She breathed a sigh of fervent relief. "Stand up, pussy. Come." Anaria gladly let the rebel leader help her to her feet. She looked over her shoulder at a more than slightly sullen Vercingador. He looked like a boy who had just had his toy taken from him. Scar-Arm now angrily yanked Latya upright from the desk, her back flush against his torso. His hands slid upward, roughly groping the girl's tits, even pinching her nipples, as the Tercanian serving girl groaned and squirmed.

"As you command, General, but I'm keeping this piece of ass for myself."

"Do as you will," Gorlann said darkly, "kill her later once you tire of her if you must, but hurry, damn you. You've emptied your balls. Now it is time to think with the head that matters most," he added pointedly, tapping his temple with a finger for emphasis. "Come. The others will be waiting for us. The Imperium relief forces won't be more than a few days away. We must make ready. You've slaked your thirst for pussy, but we have a more important thirst to slake, and only the blood of our enemies can satisfy it. Bring your prize, your pair of tits and a pussy, if you have to, but focus on the task at hand. Our very survival depends on it."

Vercingador pulled his dazed captive with him, her breasts jiggling wildly as he shoved the naked girl none too gently through the doorway. Latya's eyes shone with fear as they met Anaria's.

"You heard the man. Move!"