Chapter 0: Prologue (18+)
TW: This work contains sexual themes, abuse, and violence.
Inspired by Spartacus: the Thracian gladiator and leader of the slave rebellion during the Third Servile War.
Standing in the hot water, reaching to his knees, Sir Darius was content with his new slave, who was currently posing before him. It had been a long day, and some relaxation was very welcoming. Being as powerful as he was could be so tiring on some days.
The slave girl stood bent over, showing off her soft and smooth curves and the pink folds of her forbidden flower. Darius spread her folds apart and looked at the dripping lips for a moment. Then he gladly pushed himself inside. It has been a while since he had felt something so tight wrapped around his manhood.
Steam curled around them, leaving the air moist and hot. With such a temperature, the older man soon grew tired, and the slave had to take over.
The master sat down in the water and laid his head back till it rested against the stone edge of the marble bath. The girl straddled him and started to rock her body up and down, her erotic sounds bouncing off the decorative painted bathhouse walls.
Darius’s greedy long fingers found their way to the younger’s little rosy nipples, which he pinched and twisted until they swelled and she cried out, clenching herself even tighter around his erection.
“Isn’t this the best cock you’ve ever had, slave?” Darius asked through heavy breaths.
“It is, S-sir,” the other agreed. “It’s as hard as steel and so big that it almost d-doesn’t fit inside of me.”
That was precisely what Darius wanted to hear. He leaned in and licked her breasts, sucking on her nipples until they were hard against his tongue.
He felt his climax rising and when he was almost there, he pushed the girl away from his lap, stood up, and took matters into his own hands. Vigorously, he masturbated until he poured his cum against her face, particularly against those plump alluring open lips.
When Darius was done, he looked proudly at the shimmering whitish jelly-like painting he had created on the other’s face. Satisfied, he stepped out of the water.
“I hope I was to your liking, Sir?” the girl asked.
“You were alright. You may wash yourself now, but do it somewhere else. I don’t want your filth in my water.”
“Thank you, Sir,” she said as she stepped out of the bath.
Darius brought one hand in the air and waved for help. “Get out of here now,” he ordered her while two maids hastened to him. One of them began to dry his torso while the other dropped to her knees to dry his feet.
“I will, Sir,” the girl said. “And may the Gods bless you—” Before she could finish what she wanted to say, something was thrown through one of the bathhouse windows, breaking the glass with a loud bang.
Loud screams from outside entered through the broken window; they anguished cries and screams coming from men and women.
Darius looked at the ground and saw glass dispersed everywhere. His eyes grew wide when he saw the maimed body that lay at his feet. The victim’s throat seemed to have been ripped off rather brutally, and his arms and legs were partially torn off. His limbs were only lumps of flesh.
The maids and slave girl started to scream and ran away when another window crashed, and someone - something - jumped inside, pinning Darius to the floor and breaking the tiles with his weight.
Darius stared into the bright green eyes of his best fighter.
“C-Connor,” the man stuttered, looking up at the eight-foot-tall creature. It growled. “W-what is the m-meaning of this?” he asked, shocked by what was happening. “Guards? Guards! Guards—”
A huge rough hand was wrapped around his neck and long claws dug behind his ears. It hurt and Darius was afraid. So afraid that he couldn’t stop himself from pissing out of fear when the monstrous beast roared against his face so loud that he almost couldn’t hear his people screaming outside anymore.
The beast then dragged him out of the bathhouse like a ragdoll and showed him the rest of his residence.
Darius couldn’t believe what he saw. It was a nightmare. Dead bodies and people on the verge of dying, crawling along the floor. Ripped off body parts were scattered everywhere in the courtyard while the army of beasts stayed busy with the ones who were still alive. They sunk their teeth in flesh and tore off limbs, coloring the ground in the brightest of reds.
His beast slaves had broken loose.
“Uncle!” came a cry which Darius recognized as that of his niece. “Connor! What have you done?” Mila then cried out to the beast.
“Mila!” Darius screamed. “Run—” The hand wrapped around Darius’s neck squeezed so tight that claws scratched his throat and punctured an artery. Blood started gushing out of his throat, and when the beast let go of him, he dropped to his knees, choking in his own blood. He fell to the floor, knowing his end would soon come. He was finished by one of the filthiest creatures living in this world—a Lycan.
Right before the man came to his end, he saw the beast grabbing his crying, screaming niece, who was dragged away until she was out of Darius’s sight.
The house of Darius Xavius had fallen...
EXERPT. The edited version is for sale on Amazon.