Marcellus - death in Roman Arena

This time a story again - this one was writen by Scott Holderer, my friend from one of the yahoo groups. He was so kind and agreed I could publish his story in my blog. So here it is, together with my illustration.

MARCELLUS

SANGUINUM END PRO TREATOR

Blood curdling shrieks of the condemned man could scarcely be heard above the roaring crowd. “Innocent! By Jove, Innocent! Mercy mighty Caligula, Mercy” but his wailing went unheeded by the mighty Emperor who sat in his throne perched in the center of the royal box, a look of grim satisfaction mingled with a voyeur’s thrill of anticipation on his stern royal brow.  This Marcellus, once a trusted legionnaire and sometime companion in the royal bed chamber was now nothing more than a plaything to be bloodied, dismembered and sacrificed for the emperor’s own gruesome lust and of course, the mob assembled in the arena under the burning sun needed their entertainments to deflect the hunger they felt in their bellies.

Marcellus, whose masculine beauty was unparalleled in the empire, was sought after by women and men alike.  His powerful shoulders and barrel chest, accented by  two perfectly formed tits that were encircled by thick curling ebony hair that ,dwindled just above his navel into a fine line of down that formed an arrow pointing straight to his prodigious cock that rested atop two ostrich sized balls was the envy of every man and boy.  And then his face: blessed by a mother, a slave from Germania, was adorned by two luminous blue eyes the color of the Mediterranean sea on a summer’s day.  His high forehead, strong jaw that sported a perfectly trimmed beard, straight Roman nose and alabaster teeth that sparkled when he smiled were renowned by poets and were an image often called forth as lonely women and men with certain hungers masturbated in the stillness of the night. But now this stunning beauty stood naked, bruised, shackled and trembling   before entering the field of his demise These dear comrades who now surrounded him at the entrance to the arena had been his boon companions on the long marches north of Rome, these mess mates who had shared meager rations, and long lonely nights in the freezing cold, now had transformed into monsters, only to happy to see their onetime friend meet his ghastly end.  Happy they were that it was not they who had been falsely accused of treason and so chosen by the brute Caligula to undergo such an ignoble end when it was naught but Marcellus having been caught in an embrace with one of Caligula’s slaves that had ignited a raging jealousy in the emperor’s heart.

There looming in the center of the arena stood a high platform supporting a gigantic wooden cross like the one used to torture and execute the criminal Andrew, one rabble rouser of the much maligned Christian sect.  A brazier with burning coals sat atop an iron tripod holding instruments of torture from pokers, branding irons, finely honed two foot long needles, long handled shears and what appeared to be a grotesquely large silver dildo that gleamed in the sunlight.

Marcellus, blinded by the sweat that coursed down his brow groped his way up the rough hewn steps that led to the platform, his naked feet picking up painful splinters along the way.  His chest and back showed signs of the flogging that he had received that very morning that now caused searing pain, exposed as they were to the relentless burning sun of noon on this cloudless summer’s day in the eternal city called Rome.

Caligula’s chief executioner, one Longinus from Birtania, wearing nothing more save an apron to cover his genitals was a figure to strike terror in the stoutest of hearts. Longinus, a onetime slave to the Great Augustus, Caligula’s benighted uncle had gained freedom for his expertise in the fine art of torture. He prided himself with making the helpless victims last for hours, knowing where to cut, where to sear with molten iron to stop the bleeding, where to give the condemned time to recover before the next onslaught of agony.  Yes, Longinus knew his business.  Today was a special occasion for him.  To display his artistry before the Emperor, the Senate and the people of Rome was a rare and great honor.  He intended to give his audience a show that would be remembered and recorded for posterity.

“Welcome brave young Marcellus, come up those last steps. That’s right, one last step, now turn and face the emperor. Turn damn you.  Guards grab this miserable dog’s arms and make him recognize our dear Emperor Caligula.  Bow down and cringe before his divinity. You are the featured attraction.”

Longinus, grabbing a handful of Marcellus long hair yanked his head backwards causing great strain to his well muscled neck.

“Look dog and see the thousands gathered here for the spectacle.  The senators in their finest robes, the aristocrats in their silks and gold, the unwashed plebeians with their stinking garlic breath waiting like hungry animals to hear your screams, to smell the fear in your sweat, to see you piss yourself from terror and then see your crimson traitor’s blood flow.”

“Mercy” shrieked the condemned man focusing his gaze on Caligula who was licking his lips, ravenous with hunger to see this demigod whose ass he onetime had plowed in the royal bed, whose cock and balls he had fondled with sharp imperial nails.

“Cry not to our beloved Emperor for it is his word that has sent you here. Being the kind and gracious lord that he is however, you have been granted one last fuck.”

Marcellus, with eyes nearly busting from his skull beheld the instrument that was his “one last fuck”, a giant finely wrought silver dildo that was even now being lifted from the glowing embers and attached to the end of long wooden pole.

 Longinus, in stentorian tones as he desired that every last person in the great area could hear his every word shouts for all, “Turn him around facing the cross and bind his wrists and ankles tightly.  Spread his ass cheeks as wide as they can for it is a great prick, modeled I am told on our esteemed emperor’s very own appendage.” The crowd in one great chorus laughed like lunatics at the full moon.

Marcellus, with what strength he still had left in his arms and legs bucked and struggled like an Arabian stallion as four Briton guards slammed him against the x shaped construction.  Clenching his fists in vain his thick hairy wrists and strong runner’s ankles were soon bound tight with hemp rope.  His perfect ass glistened in the sun light, in stark contrast to his bronzed back and thighs.

“Now spread his ass and prepare the traitor to receive his emperor’s member up his hole.” And with those words, Longinus approached holding the long pole with its attached gargantuan dildo that smoked and sizzled.  Marcellus could feel the heat on his naked skin even from a distance.  His legs trembled like branches in a violent storm.  He pressed himself tightly against the jagged wood even as splinters embedded themselves into his chest, his tits, his thighs and dick.  Closer and closer drew the molten member.  A few more inches remained before contact but even so the heat of the iron caused his vulnerable flesh to blister. Slowly and with great deliberation Longinus placed the tip of the dildo against Marcellus ass hole.  The crowd went wild with glee.  They  cheered and stomped in anticipation at the scream that was about to come to their ears and brave young Marcellus did not disappoint.  There was one brief moment where he threw his head back, took in a gigantic breath that filled his lungs and made his chest expand like a Hercules then let forth a bellow the likes of which had not been heard in Rome since the last sacrifice of a bull in Jove’s sacred temple. 

The dildo pressed into the crevice, searing the sensitive flesh as it travel further up into the anus.  Tears of agony streamed down Marcellus’ face, his bladder emptied, some spatters of urine that struck the hot iron bounced like beeding water onto a hot pan. His head thrashed about from side to side, forward and backward in some futile attempt to knock himself out, to escape if only for a moment the indescribable pain from the silver dildo.

Caligula, unmindful of those who stood in the royal box was unable to constrain himself and so, lifted up his royal robes to reveal a throbbing engorged penis.  Calling for his favorite Centurion, he indicated with the wave of his hand that the soldier should kneel down between the Imperial thighs and give suck to his panting member.

Longinus, like an expert actor, slowly withdrew the dildo, now that Marcellus had passed into a moment’s oblivion, raised the pole to display the shit and blood soaked object as if it were the most precious trophy seized in battle.

The crowd applauded with deafening enthusiasm as the Emperor grabbed the head of his guard and pushed the choking man’s face ever deeper along the imperial pole.

“Bring water and revive this wretch” instructed the torturer and with alacrity his command was quickly met.  A bucket of brine was dumped onto Marcellus’ head, stinging his eyes, burning his whip striped back and scolding the bloody rips in his ass hole.  With a violent shake of his head and much coughing and sputtering the hapless man was brought back to life.

“Turn him around” proclaimed Longinus to the crowd as he took from his apron a long leather cord some three feet in length which he then raised up for the mob to behold. And so addressing the throng Longinus proclaimed, “With this leather cord I shall tied up this dog’s ample ball sack and weight it with a stone.  See how the villain trembles, how his knees buckle even as he is tied to face you most Holy Emperor.”

Once Marcellus had been secured spread eagled and facing forward, his cock and balls displayed for the world to gaze upon, Longinus stepped between the splayed legs and with expert care tied each ball into a separate bundle, wrapping a fair amount of cord between the ball sack and the root of the penis.  After the package was tied tightly with two ample ends of cord dangling he called for a ten pound rock that lay nearby and so deftly tied the rock to the loose ends.  Then, making sure to step aside to insure that the emperor and the people could see his intentions raised the stone up dragging Marcellus’ balls and dick heavenward before dropping the stone.  The drag on the condemned mans nuts elicited a piercing cry of pain while the crowd wildly applauded and Caligula thrust his hips forward deep into the Centurion’s throat eliciting from the hapless soldier a violent gagging response.

Even Longinus was amazed to see how low the scrotal sack hung between the two powerful legs.  “A miracle that the flesh can hold so much weight without ripping a little” he thought silently to himself.  Then like a kitten with a ball on a string he tapped the dangling stone and made it swing back and forth adding to the terrible strain on the balls and causing poor Marcellus to weep and scream in a delirium of agony.

Alas for Marcellus his season in this earthly hell was far from ended.

Longinus stepped away from the spread eagled figure whose body shook like a trembling leaf, whose blue eyes, now blood shot rolled in wild circles of unfocused terror and pain. 

“Bring me my gloves” a command he addressed more to the writhing crowd then to his helpers on the stage of torment.

With lightning speed two great padded gloves were presented on a silver tray to the smiling Longinus. 

“Help me put them on fool” he growled, again in full voice that carried to the farthest reaches of the arena.

Massive padded gloves covered in thick heat resistant layers of leather and down were tightly tied to his wrists.

“And now, let the piercing begin” Longinus shouted in his most impressive theatrical voice. And with that, he marched slowly and solemnly towards the brazier and took forth from the glowing embers five fine honed iron needles whose tips glowed white hot.  Raising his arm he held aloft the five instruments of sublime torture for the Emperor and the assembled crowd to see. 

“Behold, mighty Caligula, my own creations.  These five needles I will soon insert into this traitor but fear not, their searing heat will seal the wounds and leave in the trail unspeakable agony but not bring death.”

“Bravo Longinus, you are indeed a master of your craft. Proceed!” shouted the Emperor, whilst his own rod throbbed deep in the throat of the exhausted Centurion kneeling between his thighs

Longinus waved his hand indicating that the brazier should be brought closer to the condemned man. Then, returning four of the needles to nestle in the burning coals, he slowly approached Marcellus, who was barely conscious despite the brine soaking.

 And thus spoke Longinus to the condemned man and to all those in the arena, “Behold traitor, the first of five needles that shall pierce your flesh.  Fear not that they will dispatch you to Hades before your time but be assured that you will suffer and so atone for your traitorous villainy against the Emperor, the Senate and the People of Rome.”  And with these words, Longinus took between his thumb and forefinger, Marcellus’ right tit, playing with it almost like a lover, caressing the perfect rose bud nub and manipulating it back and forth, to the right, to the left then slowly pulling the nipple away from the chest, straining the flesh beneath. Twisting and yanking with increasing savagery until the tit would reach no further.  Now it was time to place the still smoldering needle at the very tip of the tit which sparked and blistered in an instant of unutterable pain before pressing forward till, with the tiniest of popping sounds the needle broken the through the tender pink skin and lodged deep into the pectoral muscle.  Marcellus could not believe the tidal wave of pain that flooded in concentric circles from the needles point of entry: wave upon wave of agony traveled across his chest radiating to every part of his body.  Tears burst from his eyes, spittle mixed with blood burst forth from his mouth as he threw his head back and let forth another scream of manly anguish.

Longinus paused a moment to admire his work, then stepped away from the spread eagled soldier to allow better sight lines for the Emperor and the Senate and the People of Rome.  The needle stuck out perfectly perpendicular to Marcellus chest, a ghastly and horrible site that tantalized the crowd who could hardly contain their impatience to see the next four needles.

Now wishing to disappoint, but always the showman, Longinus gave Marcellus a few moments to recover before repeating the onslaught to the left nipple.  Manipulating and caressing the nipple before slowly inserting the terrible instrument into the young man’s chest, once completed Longinus again stepped away for the crowd to behold his handiwork.

Casting his gaze now to Marcellus groin and admiring the now swollen ball sack and rigid penis Longinus took a third needle from out the coals, then with deft fingers held the wretched man’s right ball between thumb and forefinger before slowly inserting the needle.  Piercing the tough membrane of the gonad took slightly more effort but the subsequent scream that burst from Marcellus’ now parched and raw throat was well worth the effort.  A thunderous round of applause erupted from the arena, save the Emperor who was near to climaxing deep in the Centurian’s throat. 

Fearing that Marcellus may be close to fainting once again, Longinus took less time with the left ball, stabbing the needle into the gonad with one swift thrust.

Stepping aside one last time for the audience to behold the traitor’s punishment Longinus reached for the final needle.

 

Manipulating the flaccid cock require much effort and Longinus feared that the elegant prick with the bulbous head and considerable amount of foreskin would never harden but the young’s man’s strength returned enough to achieve on last hard on.  Once the prick was rigid, Longinus pulled the foreskin down the shaft as far as it would go revealing the piss slit.  Holding the dick in his left hand Longinus raised his right arm displaying the final needle.  The arena became silent, transfixed with the bloody spectacle that was nearing its end.  Every eye was focused on the gleaming needle as it made its way toward the slit.  Marcellus shook like one possessed, unable to control his bladder his let forth of blood drenched piss that covered the legs and feet of Longinus who cursed with all his might.  But never forgetting for one moment, that he was a showman, Longinus controlled his temper.  Grasping the now rigid shaft in his left hand, with right hand placed the fiery tip of the needle upon the portal of the penis.  Marcellus was unable to cry out, his throat now raw and swollen, his tongue to swollen and dry though he did manage to throw his head back and forward, right and left in response to this pain like nothing he had ever known before. It took a few agonizing moments for the needle to travel the length of the rigid pole, burning the tiny opening as it dug deep into his dick, burning and lacerating the shaft, piercing the prostate and ending deep inside his bladder.

Longinus stepped aside once more to receive the crowds ovation who had now risen to their feet cheering and applauding Longinus brilliant performance.

But the final curtain was not yet to descend for Longinus had prepared a final tableaux, one more agony before the poor solider was to be dispatched to Hades.  Utilizing the stage machinery that was built into the floor of the arena, a stout iron pole ascended beneath the cross  and attached itself to an iron ring cancelled behind the wood.  Grabbing onto the device, the cross  rose slowly up into the air, higher and higher it rose, the nearly exhausted soldier hanging in abject terror and despair exposed, naked, bloody, needles protruding from his tits, his balls and his prick was a bit of theatrical brilliance never before seen in the arena.  Even Caligula himself was brought to his feet to see such a breath taking display of such awesome horror and beauty. And as the cross rose to the sky, Longinus reached for the shears whose jaws he opened wide and placed them at the root of Marcellus’ genitals. Molten hot as they were, the cutting of the dick, the severing of the balls produced at first a small amount of blood but the Marcellus over burdened heart raced ahead forcing blood down between his splayed legs and then like a great fountain the crimson life giving fluid burst from the groin showering Longinus who threw his back as if to drink the sweet nectar as it drenched his face and chest.

Marcellus cast his eyes heavenward and with a great heaving sigh gave his soul up to the gods.

THE END