Spartacus: Blood and Sand
'The Harpy of Corinth'
Chapter 1- New Arrival
Look into my eyes, pay attention and I will tell you a story. This is not a story of gods and heroes nor love and compassion. The story you will hear is one of pain and a monster that constantly needs to feed it's blood lust. This monster is not made of claws and teeth, but walls of stone and fueled by the cheers of the crowd. It is my duty to feed this monster. By the steel of my blades and the by my blood and sweat I give to my dominus, I feed this beast. The story you will hear is mine, for I am a gladiatrix.
How it ends is yet to be told as I have yet to be defeated on the sands, but I will tell you how it all began. I was there. I was there when the strength of my people failed at the walls of Corinth. The summer breeze was replaced with smoke and flames coupled with the cries of women and children fleeing from the Romans. I was one of the few who stood my ground, but all in vane against the Roman armies. A whip stings my shoulders, I wonder now if the gods above have abandoned me to the will of the Romans.
My scorn for Rome awoke from everything I remembered that day. The flames roaring from temples and buildings. The sounds of women screaming after being thrown from the walls only to be silenced when their bodies hit the ground below. These brave men, those men with nothing to loose, remained at their posts fighting to the bitter end. I was proud to be among them as they wait for me in the afterlife. Now I am bound and being pulled with other women from other parts of Greece like cattle to the slaughter.
When I awoke, I found myself being pulled away from my home to a city that seemed to have been shit out of Zeus's ass, a city called Capua. I heard talk amongst the town folk that had not rained for three months. I suppose the gods have a sick sense of humor. The ground was as hot and dry as ash from the furnace. Not even the calices of my feet could protect me from the burning ground. I could taste blood in my mouth, "Jupiter's Cock, let it rain for fuck's sake!" I heard a man making prayers in his own manner.
"Batiatus, come see the spoils of the siege against those Greek whores, slaves, the finest from Corinth," said the cart driver as I and a few others were yanked out. I fell down at the Roman's feet. I looked up at him and him at me. My scunner didn't lay with him. Off in the distance, I could hear the name of the man being paraded through the city for conquering my home; Mummius, Mummius, Mummius. That man's armies went through Corinth like a great horde of locusts destroying months worth of crops.
"What about this one?" the man named Batiatus asked the cart-driver. The cart-driver was a portly man, hairy as a Macedonian bear and just as ugly. The man looking to purchase me gestured me to get up. I got back on my feet without assistance from the cart-drver, "impressive...very impressive indeed, tell me girl, what is your name?" It was clear that I was a hand taller than this man looking to purchase me. I can feel the weight of the shackles around my wrists and ankles, but it didn't matter to me.
The summer sweat stung my eyes and dripped off the bridge of my nose. He wasn't a soldier, but this Quintus Batiatus looked to be a man of status, "Kadri," I muttered. I looked around and at that moment I first laid eyes on the beast. The crowds cheered as steel cut through flesh and bone. It was then I figured out this man. He is a lanista. I know he can see it in my eyes that I was not just an ordinary slave girl. I have lost my family, my home and now my freedom. I stand now as another man's property.
"You are indeed imposing, plenty of muscle...and beauty to go with it, you have the makings of a gladiatrix," He stated, nodding his head in agreement with himself for his purchase, "there aren't any female gladiators for the games, yes, yes I just might have a use for you, Kadri...and for FUCKS SAKE SOMEONE GET HER SOME CLOTHES?!," the cart-driver gave him a simple piece of cloth. Then a new chapter in my life began. He led me to his home on top of what looked like a prison with men howling like dogs.
"She's a specimen, tits and an ass to go with it, she maybe bigger than me, her cunt looks to be without disease or deformity, she has muscle though, too much to be a servant in my chambers or a wife to a man, long legs, and large and wide hips, she may part men from their cocks and crush pelvises," said his wife, a woman named Lucretia. She looked like a woman who never got off her ass to do simple tasks, maybe just to get fucked by her husband, "tell me, what use would you have for her?" She asked.
"Capua is in need of a gladiatrix," He replied to his wife. I was being pulled along by the chain and collar around my neck. The man pulling me was his another slave named Ashur, "give this woman a sword and every man in the arena will stroke their cocks at the sight of her tits in the arena...tell me, Kadri...do you any skills with weapons?" He asked me I nodded to him, "good...good, tomorrow I'll have you show me," He said leading me away from the cart to a place I would soon call home, a place called a Ludus.
That evening, I was thrown into darkness. My cell is cold and bleak. The walls were scratched with records, records of a bloody past. How many times they had won in the beast, and how many times they had been let off. The next morning, I was awoken to the sunlight coming through my cell window and the crack of a whip. I was lined up with others that were purchased by Batiatus, I was not alone. I believe the Gods above have cursed the city of Capua as rain has yet to wet the sacred grounds of the Ludus.
One of the first men I had the displeasure of meeting first hand was a Thracian, a criminal named Kerza as it was clearly evident by the marking on his forehead, "You don't belong here nor do you belong in the arena, Corinthian Bitch," He whispered into my ear, I clinched a fist at my side, "save yourself from death and give me your cunt," I felt him put his hand on my ass and got a handful. The moment to express myself had come, and I answered it with a left hook to Kerza's cheek, sending him down to the sand.
"My cunt is not for you, Thracian Shit!" using my honed skill in Pankration for extra words in the conversation made of blood, sweat and my fists. Although I was taught to fight in this art as a sport, the events that shaped who I am give me no reason to be merciful. I did not stop until a few men held me down and I felt a whip sting my back before I had a chance to start gouging out Kerza's eyes. I could hear some of the men laughing as I pommeled Kerza with all the strength I had until I was pulled away.
A man was facing me and the other slaves, cracking his whip ever so often. The sound of the whip did not deter my focus, "Forget everything you learned outside these walls, for that is the world of men. We are more. We are gladiators! Study, train, bleed, and one day your name will be legend, spoken in hushed whispers, feared by all, as the city speaks of Crixus, Champion of Capua!" I have heard of this Crixus. I have heard his name chanted by the people in the mouth of the beast. He must be skilled with a blade.
The strong man stood in front of me. He was dark-skinned, welled muscled and imposing. He was slowly pacing from one side of the lined up men to the other. He stopped at me and looked at me in the eye. Like all the men I was nearly naked. The difference being I was given only a one piece thong, bands of cloth to cover my breasts and sandals, "I don't train women, but you...are different, you have the neck and shoulders of a man, here you are a virgin that has yet to taste cock!" He was called 'Doctore',
"You are new to this Ludus, to that you must taste your own blood...Barca!" A brute of a man came forward to face me. He towered over me in height. It looked as if Perseus somehow fucked Medusa to produce this giant of a man. I looked at my hands which once held a xiphos was replaced by two wooden swords. I spun my swords to get a firm grip, and looked at my opponent with readiness. I wanted to fight. I heard talk in the night of this man Barca, the one they call the 'Beast of Carthage', "make her bleed,"