Page 26 of Dominion
“Why are there different fighting styles, doctore?” Mateo asked.
“Each man or woman is different. They need to fight differently. You would not fight well with Boris’ broad sword, as Boris would not fight well with Feilong’s twin jamadhars,” Cervantes said.
Mateo turned to look at the mentioned gladiators again, now knowing what their weapons were called. He looked at Feilong stabbing at a block of wood with two daggers that looked like long scissors and blades at the same time. It was a deadly weapon that he was happy to not have been stabbed by. He doubted he would have survived.
He couldn’t help it, his gaze landed on Haraka as he watched him spar with another gladiator whose name he didn’t know. Both worked with wooden swords and shields and Mateo did have to acknowledge the skill with which both men wielded their weapons. If Haraka wasn’t a champion, he knew his own skill would have to surpass the man who’d nearly brought him to death.
“Pay attention,” Cervantes said, then punctuated the command by slapping Mateo in his injured side with his blade.
“Ah!” Mateo gasped, and then groaned as his side throbbed. Luckily, the rawhide vest took the blunt of the blow. “Apologies, doctore.”
After that blunder, he made sure to keep his attention on his trainer. For hours, he practiced stances using both swords. Defensive and offensive. Then he had lunch, which was oatmeal, wheat bread, and water. It was better than the broth, but he really wanted the beef stew and rolls the gladiators feasted on. Once they had all eaten, it was back to training. Some sparred with each other, some spared alone, and others did the physical exercises needed to keep their bodies in shape. Mateo had to join them, although his exercises were limited.
The dominus wanted him to start his training, but not to reinjure himself, which was why he’d been treated with a certain level of delicacy, which Mateo appreciated. Although, he wasn’t too naive to believe that it would always be like that. If last night was any proof, the kid gloves were slowly coming off.
The ache in his body was annoying, but not too distracting as he worked up another load of sweat, conditioning his body to be able to survive the world he was now a part of. Throughout his training, he knew he’d caught the attention of a few of the gladiators. He could hear their gossip, some thinking he’d never survive to become a gladiator and others only wanted to fuck him. As it was, he was the youngest there and as luck would have it, the most handsome. Two attributes Rama and Cervantes had already taken advantage of.
At the end of their day, Mateo practically had to drag himself back to his cell, but when he tried to enter, Kodac stopped him. He turned, facing the menacing gladiator-guard.
“What is wrong?” he asked.
“You will bathe first, wash the stink of the day off your body, then you will see dominus. Put the oil on your body after you bathe, our dominus likes that,” Kodac informed him.
The words weighed heavily on Mateo. Twenty-four hours ago, he was untouched, and now it seemed like everyone wanted to touch him, and in ways he didn’t desire. His body was full of exhaustion and merciless pain, and yet, he knew his dominus would want to fuck his already sore asshole. He only hoped that afterward, he would be able to sleep peacefully.
Following the command, he made his way to the communal bath where all of the gladiators were gathered and washing the filth of the day off in the warm waters of three huge, deep bathtubs. Removing his loincloth, he climbed inside one of the tubs with the least men inside of it. He could feel eyes on him and hoped they’d only look and nothing more. To his disappointment, Boris climbed out of the tub he was in and into the one Mateo was now bathing in.
“You not so protected by bars now,” Boris said as he saddled up close to Mateo, pressing his hairy chest to Mateo’s arm.
In the earlier days since arriving at the ludus, Mateo had been meek, afraid and uncertain of what would be his fate. He now had some understanding, and he also began to see that if he were to survive, he had to cast away whatever timid feelings he had. He was in a world of warriors and barbarians. They were used to taking what they wanted, giving no apologies, and killing for sport and glory. If he was going to rise in status, he had to become someone new, someone without fear and doubt. He had to become a gladiator.
He turned to Boris. “Leave me be.”
Boris grinned, his hand shooting out, grasping Mateo’s chin, pushing his head back. “The little bird squawks at the condor.”
“Even a bird of prey is prey to something else,” Mateo said.
Boris growled and pressed himself up harder to Mateo, pinning him against the edge of the tub. The water splashed between the two as they faced off.
“Grab my cock,” Boris ordered.
Mateo could feel the man’s hardness pressed against his stomach, as Boris was much taller than he was. The man’s bad breath pelted his face, but he refused to acknowledge it. He was sure his own breath didn’t smell all too pleasant either, not that it seemed to matter to Boris.
“No,” Mateo protested.
“Fine,” Boris said, then he released Mateo’s chin and grabbed his shoulders, trying to force him to turn around. None of the other gladiators stepped in to help, and Mateo knew they all wanted to see if he’d fight or be taken. And even if he was still taken, would it be without a fight? Mateo knew this was a moment where he had to make a stand or he’d end up being their whore, which was something he didn’t want.
“No!” Mateo yelled as he pushed back against Boris’ powerfully toned and hairy chest. The hair was what caught Mateo’s eye and he gripped a thick patch of it and yanked as hard as he could.
“Argh! Bitch!” Boris yelled in pain as several strands of his chest hair came out in Mateo’s fist. The other gladiators laughed at the attack, thinking it a smart one.
“Looks like the lamb is turning into a wolf,” one of the men said as he approached the two. He’d already been bathing in the tub and he stepped up to both men. Mateo looked at him and then at Boris, feeling like they were about to gang up on him. The man put his arm around Mateo’s shoulders, pulling him closer. “Did you like that cock in your cunt, boy?”
“I’m not a boy,” Mateo snapped.
More chuckles from the crowd ensued. Some of the men returned to their bathing, while others began to take part in each other, groping bodies and sucking flesh.
“Look at them,” the gladiator said, pointing to three men in the corner of the tub across from theirs. Mateo turned to see the men caressing each other and fondling each other’s cocks as they kissed. The sight did entice Mateo, especially now that he had some idea of what a man’s body pressed against his felt like. Before Eloy had savagely taken him, he was aroused by how nice it felt to have the god between his legs.
