Death, Life, and Love Ch. 03

I carefully cleaned the wounds on my husband's back. I was still reeling from this series of events-Aedinius' death in battle, my newfound love for Jareth, my dead husband's return, his story of survival and capture. I listened as he continued with his tale.

Aedinius spent his days training for the gladitorial games, and spent his nights plotting his escape. When he tried to leave the arena, he doubled over in pain. As long as the witch carried his seed in her belly he could not leave without risking death.

His first fight was nothing like he expected. He was to face off against a large aboriginal man. Both men were given shields and swords, but nothing else. Before they were ushered into the stadium, their clothes were removed and their bodies oiled down. Aedinius assumed they would be given costumes, but they were both still bare as they were pushed out to the arena.

While Aedinius was not ashamed of his body-and why should he be?-he was startled to be standing in front of thousands of spectators wearing nothing at all. This moment of confusion was all the dark warrior needed to get the advantage. He rushed Aedinius, sword held high overhead, and brought it down swiftly towards his heart. Aedinius came to quickly and parried with his shield, keeping the blow from connecting with his body.

The two warriors danced in combat for what seemed like eons, their oiled bodies glistening in the sun. When one would go on the offensive, the other would defend with such grace that the entire battle seemed choreographed. They were evenly matched in skill despite the contrast in their body sizes. Aedinius realized this and used his size to his advantage, hacking at the warrior's legs high enough that he could not jump over the swings yet low enough he couldn't parry. He sliced the man's tendon just above his left knee, crippling the man and bringing him to the ground.

Aedinius looked up at the crowd, looking at all the people cheering him on, waiting for the death blow. He saw that woman with the tattoos standing in her own private box. She waited anxiously for him to kill the man, looking aroused at the thought of it. But he was not a killer. He raised his chin and walked to the warrior who was still clutching his leg. He held out his hand and helped him up, letting him lean on him as he led him out of the arena. The crowd was a mix of cheers and boos and hisses. The woman with the tattoo looked as if she were left without climaxing.

After the evening's fights were over, she came to Aedinius. Her tattoos covered her body, making her appear clothed from a distance though she wore nothing at all. She slapped him hard across the face.

"How dare you show mercy!" she cried. Aedinius took the hit but stood proud. He was a warrior, but he was not a cold-blooded killer. The woman grabbed him by the hair and kissed him hard on the mouth. Then she dragged him out of the arena by his hair, with him still naked, her guards following close behind. They reached her lair and she threw him down on her bed.

She had her guards hold him face down on her bed, securing his arms and legs so he was spread wide. Then he felt the weapon make contact. She held a long, flexible stick in her hand with a small whip with many tails on the end. She was grinning, and Aedinius could see the light glistening off the moisture on her pussy.

"If you do not kill, I will make you wish that you had, every single time!" She let loose on his back again to emphasize her point. And again. And again. Soon his back was a bloody pulp, but the more pain she inflicted on him the more excited she got, until finally she was howling in ecstasy, her juices running down her tattooed thighs.

She then had him turned over so that he was facing up. She straddled his face and forced her dripping pussy into his mouth. She ground her hips into his face, the small bar piercing her clit clinking against his teeth. She reeked of magic, and it was abhorrent to him. Aedinius closed his eyes tight and conjured up images of his beloved wife to help him survive this unusual torture. Soon, it was all over.

"You will be punished for not taking the death blow, but in time maybe you will come to enjoy your punishments." She had Aedinius dragged back to his cell, where he started forming the first plans of his escape.

Over the next few seasons, this continued. He was the champion of the arena but he refused to kill his opponents. The tattooed witch would then drag him by the hair to her lair, whip him mercilessly, then have her pleasures with him. After a while, he stopped struggling and did as she asked without having to be retrained. Soon, she would forgo her guards altogether, knowing Aedinius came to her bed willingly. What she did not know was that in his mind he was pleasuring Tiaret, not her.

Then the opportunity came. She again drug him off to her lair to whip him and make him serve her. He took his whippings, as he had always done, and asked if he could pleasure her pussy, as he had been doing for some time now. She grinned, feeling superior in her domination over such a strong warrior.

She laid back on her bed and spread her legs as he knelt down between them. He started running his tongue up and down her labia. No fantasizing about Tiaret tonight-he had to focus on his plan. He flicked his tongue over the tip of her clit, making her jump and grasp his hair. He darted his tongue deftly into her pussy as she humped him, grinding her hips into his face. She was so enthralled she did not notice his hands were not on her thighs anymore, but slowly reaching for her wrists.

Aedinius moved so quickly she did not know what was happening. He grabbed the witch's wrists and held them fast, and using his teeth he ripped the small metal bar from her clit, blood pouring forth. He moved his body to cover hers as she thrashed around, forcing his shoulder into her mouth to muffle her screams. Her thrashing slowed, he body became weaker. Soon, neither blood nor life remained in the witch's body. She was dead and her spell binding the gladiators to the arena was broken.

Aedinius had to move fast before the guards were alerted to the broken spell and their mistress' death. He made his way silently through the small town and to the woods. He ran for days, weeks, over a month without looking back. His only desire was to return home to his wife, his Tiaret.

I cried, my heart filling with love for my husband. The pain and suffering he had endured broke her heart. I wanted to kiss away all the bad memories. I pressed my body close to his and wrapped myself around him. My mouth found his, our kisses mingling with our tears.

Aedinius pulled back and looked at me. "I love you, my wife, and I am sorry I betrayed you. I took pleasure in the torture she put me through. Please do not hate me."

"I love you too, my husband. I have betrayed you, also. Months after I received new of your death, I took solace in the arms of another, and fell in love with him. He has not replaced you in my heart, but I am truly in love with you both."

Aedinius was stunned. His wife loved him, but also loved another? We held each other and cried ourselves to sleep, not knowing what to do next.