Spthifius - Miranda Martin Page 0,2

I? What if I don’t? What then?

The butterflies’ war come to an abrupt conclusion as one side nukes the other side and my guts rebel by tying themselves into a hard knot. Gritting my teeth to keep the bile down, I nod.

“Yeah,” I say. “I don’t think I have a choice.”

“Sure you do,” she says.

“You stepping up?” I ask.

“Oh god no,” she says, shaking her head. “I mean, we’ve all seen the way he watches you.”

“Great,” I sigh. “Thanks. So happy to be of service.”

“Oh you’ll be ‘serviced’ all right,” Kennedy laughs so loud that Vina yells again.

“You’re impossible.”

“Sure, but you love me.”

I shake my head and bite my lip.

SPTHIFIUS

I stretch my arms over my head, turning so the sun catches my muscles as they ripple and flex. Domina leans on the railing of the balcony watching, a smile playing across her lips. Her nipples show through the thin cloth of her dress.

I’d fuck her, given the chance. Not out of any particular desire—besides getting laid—but because she would then whisper on my behalf in Dominus’ ear. I know how these games are played among the fucking Krixians.

It’s true of any man in power. You get to his woman, you got him by the balls, and if you do it right, he’ll never know.

Domina is pretty enough, but she doesn’t hold a candle to the human female. Now that one, I’ll take my time with. She’ll be mine, sooner or later. I like the shape of her, and her pale skin is exotic. My dick stiffens uncomfortably thinking of her, so I adjust myself.

Distracted, I don’t see the blow coming until I’m spun around.

“Can’t find a whore to handle that for you?” Anzil quips.

I growl, closing my hands into fists as I turn to face him. I’m going to knock that stupid grin off his ugly red face.

“You think you’re ready?” Anzil asks, grinning widely. “You got enough balls to go with that little dick?”

“Any time, Primus. Give me the chance.”

“Now, tiny male.”

He throws his arms wide in challenge, backing out onto the sands. The other gladiators stop sparring, turning to watch as Anzil enters the training grounds. I stalk after him. My jaw throbs with pain, and the hot sun bounces off the sands, sparkling like a million fine cut stones.

Anzil and I circle each other. He rolls his shoulders, snaking his arms back and forth. I feint then he does as well, testing each other, gauging reflexes. Circling, always circling. Watching, but there is a reason he is primus. I find no opening, no weakness to exploit. Nothing physical, at least. That leaves only one battlefield on which I might find advantage.

“Since my dick is so little, your woman won’t mind when I put it in her ass.”

The assembled gladiators gasp then jeer, punching or slapping one another in disbelief that I would taunt Anzil like that. I’m aware of them only peripherally—most of my attention is on him—and there it is.

His eyes widen, then he growls and his left shoulder drops. I feint right then come in on the left hard. My fist connects. His head snaps back as the loud crack of fist and bones connect. Blood and spit fly from his mouth. He stumbles backwards as the other gladiators cheer.

I don’t give quarter. The moment I hesitate he’ll finish me. Pressing the advantage, I land a rapid succession of blows, hitting indiscriminately, striking his chest, arms, and stomach. He keeps his arms up, protecting his head, retreating before my onslaught.

I follow and keep hitting. I give everything I’ve got. I’m going to end him. He may be primus, but let Dominus see Spthifius beat down his prize. Let them all see. I’ll show every one of them I am not to be messed with. I am the best.

The scent of his blood drives me. It’s tangy and coppery on my tongue, fueling the beast, and the beast rages. My vision narrows to only he and I. My fists slamming against him. Over and over.

Something pierces the rage. He’s smiling; no, laughing. Every ounce of energy goes into each punch. I’m giving it my all and he’s… laughing?

I don’t see it coming. I swing but miss. Then the yellow sky is in front of me. I hang, frozen in the air, thoughts racing to catch up to what happened. Replaying the memory, and then it stops on his fist connecting with my jaw.

I hit the ground, hard, and the air is knocked from my lungs. Anzil