Warriors of the Ring

This story was originally posted to Tumblr.

A Gladiatorial fantasy between an Adonis Greek and a huge, hairy Persian.   

Firelight from the torches cast the arena, sand and stone, in a warm twilight. Ajax entered from the north gate, eager to bring pride to his battalion. He would not have their aid in this battle, however. For this contest, he would be the lone victor.

It was a more civil time—praise the gods—and the Persians, while still a barbarous threat to Greek civilization, had forged a somewhat meager truce. Their new ruler had taken interest in their noble sport of wrestling and, facing both famine and a shortage of men on either side of the war, decided that conflicts could be settled, among borders and settlements, by sending a champion at each side to wrestle for glory in an appointed ring. The contests would have no judge, however, for defeat was absolute. Not death—at least not all the time—but the victor would have total dominion over his fallen opponent, body and soul. The loser would be brought back to camp and shared among the other men, or beholden to only the champion, for appointed time, before being released back to the other side. The loser would go back in shame.

To lost such a contest was, for some, a worse fate then death. But for men of noble cloth, for whom Eros favored, this was a most desired contest.

And Ajax, the Greek's champion, intended to win this battle of muscle and precision. A young man of twenty, he was a hearty soldier—tall and cut from marble, some said. He had trained with the strongest of warriors, and these battles had shaped his muscles lean. Anointed with oil for combat, his men and trainees often said he looked like a bronze statue brought to life. Even his hair, curly, was a particularly beautiful copper. He was, as men said, the sort of man that the poets would write particularly explicit odes to.

Ajax entered the arena in red cloth and shield—mostly for ornamentation. He waited, scorning the rude Persian for keeping him. Such a disgrace would be met with pain and humiliation. Though Ajax fought with honor, he enjoyed a dirty tactic here or there. All of those days spent with cuts of wood hoisted up on his shoulders as he carried them up mountains had given him a formidable backside, that sent the old pederasts mouths watering whenever Ajax stepped into the gymnasiums or bath houses. Ajax knew this well and made use of his legs in combat, crushing the will of his opponents. But for those who might disgrace him at the start of a match with rude epithets, he had a favorite move that never failed to win him a match.

For this reason, Ajax liked to keep his muscular ass covered with a cloth during a match. And should he deem his opponent fit to suffer the indignity of his technique, he would ensure they were already laying breathless on the ground, or propped up into the corner of the ring, whereupon he would stand over them, arms flexed for the glory of the gods. He would say:

“For demonstrating such indignity, I shall now humble you. Behold, the Throne of Apollo.”

At which he would strip the cloth off, revealing his oiled, beautiful, spherical ass for the fallen opponent to marvel at, in horror or in awe, for a few seconds. And before a plea could escape their lips, Ajax would smile and thrust down his ass upon their face, enveloping them completely as he flexed. He would keep them buried inside him, flexing for the glory of the crowd, as they twitched and struggled for air. Only when they had stopped moving, passed out in the most humiliating of ways, would Ajax release his godlike hold and look down upon his work. More than not, he would see his unconscious opponents with the faintest smile on their lips, and the hardest of cocks. From then on, Ajax would decide what to do with them, either milking their seed right their in the ring for the lust of the audience, or dragging his victim back to his bedchamber to be awoken by an intrusion of Ajax's equally beautiful cock...

Finally, Ajax looked up to hear the iron gates on the other end of the ring slide back. He threw out his chest and stood tall, hoping to cast an imposing figure for this worthless, no doubt malnourished weakling the Persians had dared try to throw at him. Ajax tugged at the loincloth that concealed his ass, which was already peaking coquettishly out behind the covering. Perhaps I shall stay down on him extra longer, he thought. Or make the dog lap up such a fine meal.

The shadow that was cast from the firelight grew and grew ahead of the monstrous man that stepped out from the dark, and even Ajax could not hold back the sudden gasp. He resembled either the monsters Ajax had been told of as a young lad, or the god Hercules whom Ajax himself prayed to for strength. This beautiful beast of a man was dark like the wood of the forest and covered in thick, black fur. It spread across his enormous chest, which the opponent rudely bounced and flexed, like a fine moss. His arms were like boulders, and this was to say nothing of the man's enormous legs—which each were roughly the size of Ajax. The man's quadriceps bulged forth, and his calves were like small hills. Though he was a beast of a man, his face was startling beautiful. A slight beard. Jet black hair, sweetened, that ran to his neck. Eyes that sparkled like the torchlight in the arena, and thick lips.

Ajax felt his cock stiffen and his heart beat, and he was not sure if he should be frightened or aroused.

He felt both.

“I am Darius the Bull,” the man intoned with a voice that was deep, yet matched his handsome face. “Are you the foolish Greek who has dared to step into the ring with me? I shall give you a chance to tun around now, my son, and hold onto your manhood and dignity while you still can.”

Challenged with such an audacious boast, Ajax snapped to his sensed and immediately spit at the ground in front of him. “You will fall to my feet, savage,” Ajax snarled. “And then you shall beg to kiss my ass.”

Darius grinned and raised his eyebrows. “Yes, you are the one who is said to have an ass your love god would envy, no? All the better. For it shall be mine when I am done with you, and I shall split it clean like timber.”

Ajax was through with talk, and took a grappling stance. “Well then?”

But the beast in front of him threw his head back and laughed. “You Greeks and your modesty. How you fear your own gods-given form. Let us fight like real men.”

With that, Darius tore his covers clean off, revealing a cock that looked to belong more to a beast of the land than a man. Suddenly, Ajax was at a loss for words.

“Let me help you then, boy!” Darius intoned, and before Ajax could do anything, his own loincloth was stripped off of him and he found his face being thrust straight into the furry chest of his opponent.

“You shall feed my fur!” Darius laughed as he threw his massive arms around his victim and squeezed him in a devastating, hairy, bear hug. “I shall enjoy crushing you with every muscle in my arsenal!”

The scream Ajax let out would have gotten him permanently laughed out of the gymnasium if his men had heard it. It was pathetic. Still, Ajax tried to use his muscles and pull free of Darius' unrelenting grip. But it was simply impossible. This was man was built out of iron, surely. He must have been a demigod. There was nothing Ajax could do but groan. Even worse, he knew Darius was doing this slowly to him, tightening his grip little by little, constricting him like the monstrous snakes said to lurk in the Amazon.

All the while, Darius thrust his mighty cock against Ajax, so not only was the Greek struggling against the constricting pain, but he was being pleasured and humiliated all at once. Darius's cock dwarfed his own, and it was if his opponent's massive member was pinning his own cock in its own sort of wrestling match.

“You dare call my people savages, when you steal our land and make sport of our laws! You, my pretty Greek, have entered the ring with a lion, and I shall devour you!”

Ajax said a prayer to Zeus, fearing that this would be the moment Darius broke him in two and shattered his spine and ribs. But no. Instead, the hulk threw the Greek to the ground, knocking the wind out of him.

The massive man immediately placed his foot on Ajax's already red and raw chest, before the young Greek could even dare to stand up against him.

“You are pathetic,” the Persian man said, before hoisting Ajax up by his hair. “How dare the Greeks through one of their small lambs to this lion. They are fools!”

Ajax, in great pain and short of breath, did his best to try and go for an arm bar, but Darius instead laughed and shoved Ajax into his own arm pit, in a reverse headlock. Ajax's face was forced into a pit of Darius' masculine odor as the Bull ground his massive arms around Ajax's fragile head. He slapped his ass, causing the Greek soldier to whimper.

“I shall mark you with my scent, so all men know you now belong to Darius!”

Ajax could barely breath, and his world was full of the spiced, masculine aroma Darius exuded. But the beast did not wish to kill him. No, that would be far too easy and quick. This brute wanted to prolong both Ajax's pain and humiliation.

And so it went on, with Darius putting more and more pressure, his muscle glistening in the firelight. Ajax looked on his horror, praying all the while for mercy, while he watched Darius' cock get larger with each punishment. Each time Ajax cried out, begged, or moaned, Darius would toss back his lion's main of black hair and laugh.

With sand and blood in his mouth, Ajax finally whimpered, “Enough.” He had failed. His men would look upon him in shame. Maybe even throw him out of the battalion for such a disgraceful loss. But Ajax could already feel that the brute had broken something of his, and he felt as if he was now in mortal peril. Should he wish it, the Bull could snap him in half with ease!

“Not yet, beautiful one,” Darius intoned deeply. “Almost. But not yet.”

What more horrors could this monster unleash on him, Ajax though. But that answer came soon as the beast slammed his furry, massive ass ontop of Ajax's back, once again stealing his breath. He grasped Ajax's face and pulled him back in an excruciating, prolonged came clutch. Ajax couldn't even whimper or scream, just gurgle and hope the gods would hear his prayers, or grant him the mercy of unconsciousness. This pain was too much to bear, and he felt as if his spine would snap straight in half.

And all the while, the Bull ground against him, slick with sweat, slamming his cock against his back like the whip of the slave master. At one point, Darius dug his claws into Ajax's unblemished face. In the midst of such cruelty, the man let his hair fall around his victim face, caressing him like the finger of a butcher as it prepares a pig for slaughter. The man then began to kiss his red, swollen cheek.

“First the pain, then the pleasure.” Darius whispered in his ear, before biting it and then releasing Ajax to the mercy of the dirt.

Even if Ajax wanted to move, he couldn't bear it. He was sapped of strength. He couldn't even beg Darius for mercy anymore. He could only just lay there, and hope the Persian was done with him.

But no. Ajax would not leave this arena so easily...

Darius grabbed the near paralyzed, broken soldier by one leg and flipped him round to face him. Then, with a sneer on his face, Darius turned around and bent over to give Ajax a good, hard look at his tanned, round, and furry ass.

“Is this what you call the feared Throne of Apollo!” Darius asked the dumbstruck soldier. “No. This shall be the Throne of Darius. It is much more hairier—and shall be all the more unpleasant for you, small one.”

Ajax whimpered, struck by the knowledge that his own move was about be used against him. “N-n-no, please!”

But before he knew, Darius had lowered his ass slowly onto his opponent, engulfing his face deeply. Ajax was consumed by his masculine odor and could barely breathe. He moaned and kicked in desperation.

“I cannot hear a thing you say!” Darius laughed as she moved side to side. “But no—this is your move, not mine. It would be below me to insult such a beautiful opponent with another man's technique. And you have suffered long enough that I shall now put an end to you.”

Darius relented before Ajax, gasping for breath, could pass out. But Ajax feared that may have been for the better, as he found his naked body wedge between Darius' enormous, tree-trunk legs.

Darius roared, and flexed rock-hard biceps. “What I do next, I do to all pretty Greek men like yourself who dare challenge the Bull, Darius. You shall not be able to move or leave my tent for at least three days, upon which I shall take you to bed and breed you into one of my fine, young bulls. I shall make you stronger, by breaking you first in the Pillars of Hercules!”

Immediately it was like Ajax had been smashed between two boulders. His rib cage buckled under the pressure of the man's mighty legs, constricting and grinding against him.

He screamed, dishonoring his martial upbringing. “NOOOO! AGHHH!”

But Darius laughed all the while, applying more and more pressure. “Yes! Louder, my friend!”

At some point, Ajax, pleasing for release, could no longer make a move. He thought he heard something crack, and then the air slowly escaped his lips.

“Aghhhh......”

Taken into the dark depths of unconscious, Darius at last let his lip and broken opponent free of his iron grip. He stood, cock erect and dripping precum onto his defeated victim's unconscious body, and flexed all of his muscles for the silent arena

“Look upon you son, ye gods, and laugh! He is mine now!”

Satisfied with the sweet victory, Darius squatted down with his legs tucked around his sleeping opponent's face. He slapped Ajax with his cock.

“Wake my friend, and drink of me.”

Delirious, Ajax couldn't do much but gag and groan as Darius thrust his enormous cock into his mouth, gripping the Greek's curly head and pushing it further. Ajax gagged and sputtered, but Darius was unrelenting. Finally, Darius threw his lion's mane of hair back and roared as he released a week's worth of built up training and sexual gratification into his opponent's throat. Ajax gagged and sputtered the thick liquid across his lips—though secretly, he savored it.

Satisfied Darius stood up and grabbed Ajax, taking him into his chest.

“Yes, my boy, now you shall feed my fur.”

Slick with sweat, the Bull ground his body against the broken warrior, stimulating his cock. His scent, the sweat, and his heat, drove Ajax's addled mind wild, and in no time, he couldn't hold back the urge. He came like a plow horse, all over his new master's furry chest. His pain was dulled and he was now his captor's plaything, body and soul.

The Bull hoist his new toy over his shoulder and slapped his shapely ass as they headed towards the gate.

“Come now, little one. I shall take you back and make you as strong as Darius.” He laughed as he heard his new captive moan, either out of shame or in anticipation of their nights to come. Darius smiled, a king of the arena. “You are mine now, little Greek.”