© copyright Dark Tales 2010

For more stories about Ancient Rome see:

http://www.scribd.com/doc/31977732/A-Plebeian-Day-at-the-Games
http://www.scribd.com/doc/29875239/A-Day-at-the-Games
http://www.scribd.com/doc/35979078/Calvius-and-the-Boy-Gladiators
http://www.scribd.com/doc/31977471/A-Day-at-the-Games-Gallery

If you wish to comment on photos or stories -

e-mail the author at darktales2010@gmail.com

Now also on Scribd

We go into the future with 'Judicial Execution'
The story of two young 'sex offenders' who are judicially tortured & executed.

http://www.scribd.com/doc/37244448/Judicial-Punishment-Revenge-is-Sweet

For more information about the Roman Games go to

http://picasaweb.google.com/lawrencepaul815

http://classicalnerd.blogspot.com/

http://classicalnerd.wordpress.com/
 A PLEBEIAN AT THE GAMES
A S TO RY O F T H E A R E N A A S TO L D B Y A SP E C TATO R

Roman civilisation, a cultural milieu which we mainly take for granted as the second
of the two foundations of Western culture, Greece & Rome.
What divides the Romans from our contemporary society is the institution of slavery,
which enabled them to categorise huge numbers of individuals as 'non-people' who
could be obscenely abused and treated with ultimate cruelty – for the amusement and
sadistic satisfaction of their masters.

THIS PUBLICATION IS CLASSIFIED

This publication, & the sites listed above, contain material of an adult nature, including explicit photos
featuring nudity, sexual arousal, physical and sexual 'abuse', and various forms of sexual activity,
and contains very strong language. Do NOT view if you may be offended.
This publication may NOT be viewed by those below the age of 18 years

RECONSTRUCTIONS
 There follows a series of graphic & explicit reconstructions of the various elements
that would comprise a 'day at the Games' in the 1st century AD.

These reconstructions feature a fictional character called Gracchus who, it is

proposed, was a freedman who inherited a substantial sum, and subsequently
was able to radically enlarge the small arena and a gladiatorial 'school' left to
him by his former master. As a result of managing his business successfully he
was able to eventually offer full, private games, featuring boxers, wrestlers,
executions and gladiators, and it is these Games that are presented in the
following reconstructions.
Gracchus, although he would never admit it later in life, had been the
favourite catamite, (boy sex-slave), of his master and, as such, he not only
developed a taste for young boys and and aversion to the fairer sex, but also
became an expert in interpreting the sexual preferences and desire of those
around him.
Grachus lived in a time when there were few books, except for the aristocracy,
no pictures, except the mosaics in the homes of the wealthy and the public baths, no magazines,
newspapers, films, television or internet – and so the only 'pornography' available to the masses was
in the theatre or the arena. The theatre was expensive, and the public arena was controlled by the
state, which felt obliged to uphold public moral standards.
So here, Gracchus saw his opportunity – to sell 'pornography' combined
with spectacle, and the danger and excitement of competitive combat,
combined with explicit sexual performances, which were also combined
with the public 'service' of punishing and executing recalcitrant slaves –
(always popular with the crowd).
And alongside his amphitheatre Gracchus opened, not too ostentatiously,
a couple of brothels, providing both girls, older women and boys and
men, to slake the aroused desire of the 'punters' once the Games were
over.
The most popular performers in the arena were, of course, the
gladiators:
In the public arena there were many different types of gladiator:
Dimachaeri who used two-swords, one in each hand, while Samnites were
fully armoured, and were based on Greek hoplites. They wore a helmet, woollen quilted leg
wrappings, and shin-guards. They carried a spear in the Hoplite style with a small round shield.
Then there were Laquerii who used a rope and noose, and Mirmillones, who wore a helmet with a
stylized fish on the crest (the mormylos or sea fish), as well as an arm guard (mania). They carried a
gladius and an shield in the Gallic style.
Provocatores were often paired against the Samnites, with their armament
being variable depending on the games, and Gracchus particularly favoured
this adaptable style of gladiator.
The Retiarii carried a trident, a dagger, and a net, a larger manica extending
to the shoulder and left side of the chest. They commonly fought secutores or
mirmillones.
Secutores had the same armour as a murmillo, including a shield and a
gladius.
The Thracian was equipped with a broad-rimmed helmet that enclosed the
entire head, a small round or square-shaped shield, and two thigh-length
greaves. His weapon was the gladius or the sica. They commonly fought
mirmillones or hoplomachi.
Velites fought on foot, each holding a spear, and were named after the early
Republican army units of the same name.

Gracchus used most of these styles of gladiator, but in the case of the Dimachaeri, he dispensed with
the quilted legs wrappings, which he felt detracted from the looks of the fighters.
He liked the Thracians, but often dispensed with the helmet, as he knew that the crowd like to see the
fighter's faces, particularly as his lad's were almost always good-looking.
Gracchus also knew that the crowd like to see the expressions on the fighter's faces when they were
defeated and suffered 'abuse' from their victorious opponents.
Also, if a fighter had anything to say as he fought, - and many of the fighters did a lot of screaming,
begging for mercy and shouting abuse at one another and the crowd, - then little would be heard if his
voice was muffled by a constraining helmet.
Very few of Gracchus' gladiators ever wore any armour on their upper body, (like a breastplate), as
this would defeat the whole object of the exercise, which was to leave the
fighter vulnerable and easily able to be killed or wounded.
Arm-guard, greaves, (leg guards), were often worn, but apart from that most of
Gracchus gladiators wore just skimpy loincloths, of either cloth or soft leather –
all the more to show off their lithe, muscular, well
trained bodies – and if they were boy-gladiators, or
Gauls, they would often dispense with the loincloth
completely, which, of course, made them favourites with
the crowd.
Gracchus knew that he was selling sex as well as
spectacle and fighting, and so not only the gladiators,
but also the wrestlers would only wear loincloths – ( the
wrestlers' loincloths being much smaller than those of
the gladiators), - and, of course the wrestlers needed no
armour, as theirs' was un-armed combat. Often the Greek wrestlers would
compete completely naked, in the same way that the boxers did – although the
boxers also wore leather gloves, which were sometimes
studded with metal.
Quite often a fighter would be killed outright. Extreme examples of this would be
when a helmet-less gladiator simply got decapitated, or was stabbed in the chest,
(through the heart), or through the mouth or eye, (into the brain), or through the
neck.
More often, however, and gladiator would be disabled by a minor wound, to the
belly, arm or leg, or would just be so terrified that he surrendered, (this was often
the case with the boy-gladiators), and then the defeated fighter would be abused
and tortured before being finished-off, and it would be on these occasions that the
sex would enter the equation, as all fighters who surrendered were expected to be
raped and mutilated before they were killed

Pleae note: The events featured in the reconstructions aim to be accurate in terms of weapons,
costumes, equipment, and settings, and are based on accounts of fights by contemporary authors,
various art works, and contemporary literature, including the 'Satyricon', by Pretronius.
Marcus' description of the events in the arena, including any reported dialogue, of course, is
reconstructed, and is couched in modern explicit (and very strong) slang, with the intention of
reflecting the original 'tone' of the 'vulgar' Latin.

Please do NOT view the following text or images if you may be offended.
NOT to be viewed by those below the age of 18 years.
 CONTENTS

Introduction Marcus & the Arena of Gracchus

Roman Boxers Pugnax & Lysus, & Perseus & Nerva 22
Roman Pankration Vindrex & Lucian

Sections awaiting completion are in grey type and will be updated in the near future, when
additional photos and text are available

Forward
 Roman attitudes to sexuality, violence and morality in the 1 st Century were very different to
those generally accepted in the 21st Century.
This account of events in a private Roman Arena attempts to be as historically accurate as
possible.
With regard to the photos; settings, costumes, and ancillary equipment, all have been re-
produced according to the most reliable historical evidence now available.
The text describes in detail exactly what would have happened in such a fight, but the
dialogue of the main characters has been updated to modern, and very explicit forms of
'slang', to reflect, in contemporary form, the kind of classical language (low class, common
and crude), that would have been used at the time.

These reconstructions, therefore contain very strong language.

Do NOT view if you object to the use of such language !

INTRODUCTION

Marcus is 22 years old, and his father owns a small 'fast-food takeaway',
(yes they had them in ancient Rome), quite close to the forum.
Marcus comes from a reasonably well-off family, but he is still classed as
a plebeian because his family cannon trace their ancestry back to the
founding families of the Roman Republic.
Despite this, the family owns five slaves, and Marcus has received a good
education in Latin and Greek grammar, philosophy and rhetoric.
As the eldest son he will stand to inherit his father's business, but any
further social advancement will depend upon him finding a patrician to
sponsor him.
When he is not helping his father, Marcus spends his time with his young friends at the baths, the
gymnasium and the games.
Marcus, like many young men of his age, is 'addicted' to the Games, and because he comes from a
reasonably wealthy family he can afford to patronise Gracchus' private arena, which offers more
'interesting' entertainment that the state rum public arenas.
What follows is Marcus' description, in his own words, of a day at the games.
THE ARENA

The amphitheatre to which me and my friends usually go is a very grand affair, covered in marble – with statuues
and paintings – in fact it make you feel like you are in a palace for a da
The amphitheatre is surrounded by colonnades, and nearby are the buildings housing the schools for the various
disciplines, such as gladiators, wrestlers, boxers etc.
There are three main parts of the
performing area:

1: the Fighting Area

2: the Execution Area
3: the Hanging Area
4: the Pool
The fighting area is where all the contests take place, such as boxing, wrestling (classical and pankration), and
gladiatorial contests. It is also where the contestants parade at the beginning of the Games, -
and this is often where we make our first bets on the various fighters - and it is also where
sacrifices are made.
The execution area is was reserved for torturing and executing condemned criminals. We
always stay, and have our lunch in the arena, so that we can see the executions – many of
which are really gory.
A naked, castrated slave is dragged
to one of the stakes permanently
set into the arena floor

The hanging area is really just an area of the arena wall, which is set aside fro hanging the
injured, dying or dead. Those who are not dead, squirm around a lot, often pissing and shitting
themselves, (if they haven't got something rammed up their bum), and we often go over to that
side to make fun of the defeated fighters – especially if we have lost money on them.

The naked corpse of a castrated 'boy-gladiator',

(Felix), is hung from the arena wall,
while victorious Ephebus poses fro the crowd

The pool is a marble lined pool, which is sometimes filled with water, or a mixture of mud
and oil. We like to watch the slaves fight in the water and mud – and have a good laugh
when they slip around helplessly. We also like to watch them being drowned, with bubbles
coming from their nose, mouth, ears and arse.
Two gladiators, in loincloths,
fight with tridents in the marble-lined pool

High above the arena as a wooden catwalk, and we like to watch condemned slave being
hung or thrown down onto the sand.

A naked criminal falls to his death from the cat-walk

30 meters above the sand of the arena
 MARCUS' DAY AT THE GAMES

It was about a month ago, and me and my friends went to Gracchus' amphitheatre.
We always go to the private arena because they put on far better shows than they do at the public
arena.
In Gracchus' arena there is always the chance to see some good executions – with 'bollock-naked'
condemned slaves being crucified, burned, impaled, drowned and hung.
They also put on fights with boy-gladiators, and boy-wrestlers – cute young lads, many of whom fight
naked.

On this particular day old Gracchus put on one of the best shows of the year because it was the day
when bald Calvius, the gladiator, and Lucian, the wrestler, both came to a very sticky end. And that was
just the half of it, - 'cause there were some really good executions and some good wrestling and fights
in the pool !
But it all started off with the boxing.
Some of my friends don't like the boxers, because they're too big and over muscled, but I like them
because they fight naked, and most of them are really 'well-hung'.
Boxing always comes first, to 'wet our appetites'. While the boxers carry no weapons, most fights have
a bloody end, with the defeated boxer being beaten to death, usually by having his brains beaten out.
Boxing, unlike pankration wrestling and gladiatorial combats, has definite rules, including no eye
gouging, holding, fighting after one of the fighters falls to the ground, and no 'low blows'. Quite often
these rules are ignored, however, despite the offender being beaten by the referee – and that is what
happened in the first two boxing bouts.

Well, the first of the boxers was incredibly 'well-hung'.

He was called Pugnax – a good name for a really vicious fighter. I had
seen Pugnax fight before, and apparently he had never been beaten. He
was obviously one of Grachus' favourites, and when Gracchus put on one
of his infamous mythological 'sex-shows', he would often use Pugnax to
fuck the young slave-girls (who played the parts of nymphs), and bugger
little slave-boys, (who played the parts of baby satyrs and cupids).
Pugnax was massively 'well-hung', with a long, thick prick and we loved it
when the little slave-boys squealed and squirmed when he buggered
them.

His opponent was a cute young boy called Lysus.

The lad was quite well muscled, and quite 'well-hung', but it was obvious
that he wouldn't stand a chance against Pugnax – so, when it came to
betting on the fight, most people didn't bet on who would be the winner, that was a forgone conclusion,
but rather how Lysus would be killed – knock-out, neck or back broken, or skull smashed ?
I myself bet that Lysus would be knocked-out, and wouldn't get up again – ever ! Pugnax had been
known to do this to some of his previous opponent's.
Given Pugnax reputation, it was not surprising that young Lysus was nervous as he tested Pugnax's
defences, probing for a weakness in his shaven-headed opponent that would give him the chance to
defeat Pugnax and leave the arena alive.
Of course we were all cheering them on, as the two well-muscled athletes
danced round the arena, with their stiffening pricks jerking up and down, and
their balls swinging about provocatively.
Pugnax, however, was far too experienced for Lysus, and after a number of
attempted attacks from the youngster, Pugnax finally delivered one of his 'killer
blows' to Lysus head, and knocked the boy to the sand.
Pugnax then stood to one side while the referee asked
Lysus, who was kneeling on the sand, holding his head,
if he wanted to continue with the fight, of if he wanted to
surrender to Pugnax and take whatever was coming to
him.
After a few moments, during which young Lysus tried to clear his head, the
naked boy nodded that he wanted to go on, and unsteadily got to his feet.
We had realised right from the beginning, of course, that Lysus was outclassed,
and would ultimately end up losing the fight.
Lysus, however, probably felt that he could go on fighting, in the hope that he
would have some stroke of luck and get the better of Pugnax.

Predictably, as soon as the fight was restarted Pugnax was able to land another vicious punch to
Lysus' head.
The poor little tosser predictably grunted, and his legs turned to jelly as he slowly slumped down onto
the sand for a second time.
This time, however, Pugnax didn't keep to the rules and step back from young Lysus.
Instead he laid into the poor little cunt, who was kneeling on the sand, desperately
trying to raise his gloved hands to protect himself while he pissed on the sand.
At that point the referee seemed to get very annoyed, and slapped Pugnax on the
shoulder with his cane, to let him know that he was breaking the rules, and after a
few punches Pugnax relented and stood back.
By then, however, Lysus was very groggy because of Pugnax's repeated attacks to
his head, and he ended up kneeling on the sand, cross-eyed, and obviously stunned.
The referee then asked Lysus once again if he wanted to go on. The stupid little wanker signalled that
he was ready to fight again, and the referee, although he knew that Lysus had lost the fight, gave the
unfortunate boy a little time to recover so that he could at least have a slim chance of taking the fight to
Pugnax.
Unsteadily young Lysus got up off the sand. We were by
then expecting Pugnax to finish the fight
Once again the two boxers began sparring, as Pugnax
looked for the opening which would allow him to give the
punch that would be so devastating that Lysus would
surrender the fight.
The everyone's surprise, and Lysus' horror, Pugnax next
blow was to the poor lads swinging balls. Such a punch
was technically illegal, and as Lysus squealed “Fuck', the
poor lad fell squirming to the sand, clutching his crushed
ball-sack.
Young Lysus balls had been rammed right up against his pubic bone , and the poor boy squealed as he
struggled on the sand, with his hips raise high, while the referee slapped Pugnax across the chest as a
token punishment for his infringement of the rules.
At this point the referee had a difficult choice to make. While Pugnax had committed a foul, at the same
time Lysus had 'given' the fight to Pugnax. While technically Pugnax should have been disqualified, and
the fight given to Lysus, the boy was obviously 'finished', and we were all cheering and applauding in
support Pugnax, as we were hoping that he would then be allowed to bugger the
young boy.
Then it seemed that an order came from Gracchus that Pugnax was to be
reprimanded, but the boy was to be the loser, and was to be 'finished off'.
When the referee told Pugnax that he had been given the fight he ginned widely
and raised his hand in triumph, while we all cheered. Meanwhile, Lysus was to
busy coping with the pain in his balls to realise that his fate had been sealed.
Pugnax, who was already disgustingly 'horny', told the
arena slaves to turn Lysus over onto his belly. Pugnax
then roughly kicked the young lad's legs apart, exposing
the boy's tight little arse-hole.
Pugnax then got down onto his knees behind the
terrified boy.
Lysus begged Pugnax not to fuck him, but it was no good, and one of the
arena-slaves helped Pugnax, whose hands were still
gloved, to ram his cock into the squirming lad.

Pugnax roughly buggered young Lysus, and while the boy screamed and
squealed, both with the pain and the humiliation of being publicly raped we
all cheered on Pugnax.
Pugnax obviously enjoyed his work, and grimaced and grunted as he gave
his squirming opponent a 'good seeing to'.
And it didn't take Pugnax long to have his way with the helpless young lad
and, as he started to cum, he pulled his swollen jerkin' prick out of the
wriggling lad, and squirted his thick spunk all over the humiliated boy's
sweaty buttocks.

The slaves then turned Lysus over onto his back, and we were all pleased to see that, being a horny
little cunt, Lysus had a really big 'hard-on' as a result of having Pugnax's big cock rammed up his bum-
hole.
Now we wanted to see the young lad 'jerk-off' and 'spunk-up'.
Lysus, however, still had his gloves tied onto his hands so, rather than go to all the bother of removing
them, one of the arena-slaves held young Lysus down, while another slave grabbed hold of the 'horny'
little cunt's stiff prick, and started jerking him off.
To begin with the poor boy looked so surprised and shocked, as he was tossed-off in the middle of the
arena.
At first he tried to tell them to get off and leave him alone, but after a few strokes it was obviously
beginning to enjoy being wanked – and we, of course, were only too happy to cheer on the arena-
slaves as they 'jerked-off' the young kid.
In next to no time sexy little Lysus was incredibly 'stiff'', and he was unable to stop himself responding.
Soon he was pushing his hips forward, and calling for the slave to 'pump' his cock harder.
On hearing this, many in the crowd started to call out to the 'horny' young boxer, calling him a 'tosser',
and a 'wanker', and a 'jerk off boy', - although it was the arena-slaves who were actually doing the 'job' !
Luckily for us, we were sitting opposite the boy, who had his legs spread, and so we got a great view of
his balls, - which were really big for a lad of his age, - bouncing up and down as his thick, stiff cock was
pumped. We could also see the bit behind his balls, - the root of his cock - running back to his hairy
arse-hole. It was very swollen, and twitching, along with his tight little hole.
By then young Lysus probably guessed that, at the least, he was not going to leave the arena without
getting' his bollocks chopped off, and worse, he may not even leave the arena alive, - and so he he
undoubtedly wanted his last ever 'spunk-up' to be a really good one !
Meanwhile, I noticed that Pugnax had gone over to Perseus and Nerva, and was boasting about his
victory over his young opponent, and gloating about raping the boy, using all the appropriate gestures.
It didn't take long,however, for the arena-slaves to get Lysus to 'cum', - I had seen them 'toss-off'
many a defeated fighter or condemned criminal before, and the slaves had a sure touch, and could
make almost any boy or man 'cum' as fast or as slow as they wanted – so I was not surprised when I
heard the squirming boy's high pitched groans of pleasure, as 'horny' young Lysus squirted his spunk
all over his belly. As the sexy little cunt started to 'cum', his hairy 'cock-root' and his 'arse-hole' – which
we could now see very clearly, as his gleaming, bulging balls had pulled right up to his hairy groin, -
started to twitch really strong as he pumped his seed up his thick, jerking shaft. This, of course, caught
Pugnax attention, and brought him back to where the panting boy was lying.
Lysus was still groaning that he was 'cumming', and squirting out thick ropes of his creamy 'seed' over
himself when Pugnax came over to him.
The slaves were waiting for Pugnax instructions, while Lysus, who was still dribbling thick gobs of 'cum'
onto his heaving, sweaty belly, looked up pathetically.
The poor kid was obviously terrified that Pugnax was going to 'finish' him off, and pleaded for Pugnax
to let him go back to the locker-room, hoping that by some miracle he would be allowed to leave the
arena alive, and still a boy, to fight another day.
Not satisfied with having seen the boy humiliated by being fucked and tossed-off, however, many in the
crowd were now calling for the lad to loose his 'nuts'.
You could see that young Lysus was horrified when he heard calls for his balls to be cut off – and of
course this was not common in boxing matches. Boxers,of course, do not fight with edged weapons,
and their gloved fists make it difficult for them to rip of their opponent's balls in the course of a fight –
and of course any punching or pulling 'down there' was illegal..
Pugnax, however, wanted to keep in with the crowd, so he curtly ordered one of the arena slave to do
the job for him, and slice off young Lysus 'privates'.
“Cut off his bollocks !”, Pugnax told the arena-slaves, curtly.
Young Lysus, not surprisingly, immediately screamed 'no', although many in the crowd were all grinning
with anticipation, eager to see the youngster 'gelded'. Panic stricken, the pathetic little 'tosser' looked to
the referee in the hope that he would stop Pugnax.
From his box, however, Gracchus indicated that young Lysus should loose both his prick and his balls,
and so Lysus' fate was sealed.
Lysus then struggled to sit up, and was probably going to try and escape from the arena. He didn't get
far, however, as Pugnax kicked the poor lad in the head.
Lysus immediately flopped back onto the sand, mumbling incoherently to himself, while everyone in the
crowd laughed at the poor lad's hopeless attempt to escape the inevitable.
The poor kid then made no more attempts to defend himself, as one of the
arena slaves spread the trembling lad's legs, and grabbed hold of the
terrified lad's limp prick and his bulky balls.

Cute little Lysus now begged for at least his prick to be spared, - although
what use a prick would be to the little cunt, without his balls, was not very
clear – and we all had a good laugh at that - and anyway the stupid 'tosser
'would be dead very soon. Some in the crowd, however, didn't think the
defeated lad deserved to loose his 'privates', and called to the referee to
stop Pugnax.
The majority of us, however, didn't really care one way or another – it was
just another slaves' prick and balls, and watching a guy loosing his 'parts'
was always good for a laugh – so Pugnax was allowed to carry on.
Pugnax, however was wearing bulky gloves, so he couldn't do the deed
himself, and it was left to one of the arena-slaves, on Pugnax's orders to castrate the poor cunt.
All unfortunate kid could do then was to lie helplessly as the arena-slave used his knife to slice off the
young lad's plump ball-bag and limp little prick.
As the knife sliced through the hairy root of Lysus' cock and balls, the poor, squirming cunt squealed
pathetically, and then flopped back on the sand, completely sexless.
The arena slave then got to his feet, held up the emasculated boy's severed,
bloody prick and his bollocks, while we all cheered !
The slave then dropped the useless 'sex-parts' next to the squirming,
whimpering kid.
While we all laughed and cheered as the slave threw down the boy's cock and
balls, poor little Lysus fumbled about on the sand trying to retrieve his severed
bollocks and prick, while at the same time moaning - rather obviously - that
he'd got no 'privates'
Pugnax then grabbed the poor little sexless cunt by his hair – or should that be
her hair ? Lysus, of course, uselessly begged Pugnax not to 'finish' him, but
the pathetic little wanker -(not that he could wank any more, 'cause he didn't
have a cock), - obviously knew that he was now going to be beaten to death.
Having just had his prick and bollocks cut off, however, he didn't have the strength, or will for that
matter, to resist, and could only squirm uselessly on the sand as Pugnax stepped up to him
Pugnax then knelt down and started punching Lysus in the head, while we all cheered and applauded.
Young Lysus was being 'finished-off', and this was what we had really came to see.
First Pugnax smashed Lysus in the jaw, knocking out most of the squealing boy's
teeth. He then smashed the naked, squirming lad in the face, flattening and breaking
the l
poor little cunt's nose.
As Lysus squealed, Pugnax then punched him in the face a second time, bursting the
one of the boy's eyeballs, which left the eyeball hanging out on Lysus's cheek. Then
another punch to the face burst the right eye, which splattered on the sand, and the
poor little tosser was left blind.
Lysus spluttered from his bloody mouth that he couldn't see, as
he squirmed under the rain on blows that were descending on his
head.
Pugnax then pulled Lysus up by his hair. The poor boy sat groggily on the sand,
gurgling horribly, while Pugnax picked up the blind boy's squashed eyeballs.
Pugnax then stuffed the mangled eyeballs into the boy's mouth.
Not satisfied with having the poor little cunt with a mouth-full of eye-balls, Pugnax
then picked the castrated lad's prick, with the bollocks still attached, and stuffed them in the boy's
mouth as well.
Lysus cheeks bulged comically with the bulk of the four balls in his mouth – two eyeballs and two
bollocks. His prick, which had by then gone soft, poked out between his swollen lips, but as the foreskin
had stayed rolled back, it looked like a purple, one-eyed turtle's head.
Although Lysus was blind, he was still concious, and undoubtedly the sad little cunt knew what had
been done to him – and for any fighter it was probably the worst humiliation possible to have his
bollocks stuffed into his mouth, with his limp little cock-head hanging out !
Now after this there were quite a few people in the crowd who were hissing and whistling at Pugnax, at
this point, and crying 'shame', as they obviously thought that stuffing the boy's eyeballs, and his prick
and bollocks into his mouth was really going too far, considering that the lad had fought fairly and well.
They thought that castrating the boy and humiliating him as he died was not really called for – and they
had a point. But Pugnax was that kind of fighter, and when he got excited, as he 'finished-off' his
opponent, there was no knowing what he would do.

Anyway, by then it was too late to do anything, and the poor little fucker was by then squatting on the
sand with his smashed up bloody face, and ridiculously bulging cheeks, and his cock poking out of his
mouth, desperately trying to beg for mercy, but unable too because his mouth was stuffed full of his bits
Pugnax then finally smashed open the naked lad's skull, splattering some of the boy's brains onto the
sand.
Lysus then went into convulsions, and as Pugnax got to his feet, the naked boy wriggled obscenely on
the sand, pissing from the bloody stump where his big prick had once been, and noisily farting, and
squirting shit out of his gaping, hairy 'hole' on to the sand, in his final agony.

Finally poor cunt, who was by then sexless, toothless, and with horrifically bloody, empty eye-sockets,
stopped jerkin' on the sand - grunted and lay still.
Pugnax then stood over the mutilated boy, and raised his fist in a sign of victory while we all cheered
and applauded.
While we all started talking about the young lad's
spectacular death, the arena-slaves hung the naked,
mutilated corpse form the arena wall.
Most of in he crowd, however, continued to cheer
our hero, Pugnax, who, along with some of the other
boxers went to look at the pathetic hanging naked
corpse that had been young Lysus.
 THE ROMAN PANKRATION

After the wrestlers, we got the Pankration.

The boxing and wrestling were just a 'warm up'.

The Pankration was the 'real thing', though – being a mix of boxing and wrestling – and, with no rules,
except for gouging out eyes - though even in the boxing the rule were not always kept – for example
Lysus ended up with both his eyeballs 'popped out', and then stuffed into his mouth – along with his
chopped off bollocks, and his prick – and, of course, Nerva, - who got punched
in the balls by Perseus.
But in the Pankration 'anything goes' – which means that most Pankration
wrestlers wear a stiff, leather 'cup', or else they're finished straight away with a
punch, kick or knee to their bollocks.
In the first fight, however, one of the wrestlers had
been refused a 'cup' – and you can guess who did
that – Gracchus, of course.
And the reason why ?
Well the guy without the 'cup' was a young Gaul,
and Gauls, being our traditional enemy, rarely leave
the arena alive.
We, of course, were really looking forward to seeing
this young Gaul – a boy called Vindrex – 'cause, as
you probably know, most Gauls have red hair, and
red hair means 'ginger pubes' – and that we wanted to see !
So, of course he had to loose, 'cause he had to be stripped bollock-naked,
so we could get a good look at the poor tosser's bush !
And then, of course, Lucian, who was 'hung like a horse', would fuck the little
cunt to within an inch of his life, and then rip his bollocks off and 'finish' him.
But in the arena, nothing is certain, so we were all looking to Lucian, - a real favourite in Gracchus'
arena, - and hoping that he would do a really good 'job' on this young Gaul.

The Fight
There was a lot of cheering as the two fighters came into the
arena.
Lucian was wearing his usual, very small, black leather loincloth,
with a bulging 'cup' and with leather arm-guards, and heavy
boots.
Vindrex, on the other hand, was bare-foot, with leather arm-
guards, and wore a very sexy, tiny white loincloth, with just two
cloth straps either side of his backside, leaving his arse-crack
and arse-hole exposed – obviously Gracchus' idea - as the poor
cunt could then be arse-fucked while still wearing his loincloth !
And the young Gaul had a really big twitching bulge in the pouch of his loincloth, so
it looked like the 'horny' little cunt was already getting a
good 'hard-on' – he was probably getting' off on havin'
his bum hangin' out of his loincloth !
The Gaul's hair was - predictably – red, and very spiky, at least on his
head.
He had very little body-hair though and, of course, we were just waiting for
the bulging pouch of his loincloth to get ripped off, so we could see his
ginger bush, and see how big his 'tackle' was !
Not that we thought that the poor cunt, once Lucian had got the better of
him, would keep his tackle for long !
Now quite often we, in the audience, take a liking to a fighter and, even if he loses, we either want him
to be allowed to leave the arena alive, or at least to be 'finished-off' quickly and cleanly – a bit like with
young Lysus, who many thought was handled rather too brutally, - getting his prick and bollocks cut off
and then stuffed into his mouth, along with his squashed eyeballs - considering he was just a young kid
who had put up a good fight.
Vindrex, on the other hand, was a Gaul – so we all wanted to see the wanker get his arse ripped open
with a real rough fucking, and then get is bollocks ripped off – slowly, - and be treated as shamefully
and viciously as possible – as the Gauls had always been our enemies.
So, the young tosser didn't really stand a chance !
So then, with a big fanfare, the two wrestlers started to spar, with the young
Gaul constantly backing away – he was obviously extremely nervous – and
it wasn't surprising, as the poor bugger wasn't wearing a cup to protect his
balls !
Lucian, however, obviously didn't want to end the fight too quickly – he was
probably under strict instructions from Gracchus to give the young lad a 'run
for his money' before really laying into him.
To begin with it looked like the young Gaul
wanted to do some boxing, and he started
throwing some punches. Lucian seemed quite
happy to go along with this, and the two of
them boxed and sparred for some time, until
whistling from the crowd alerted Lucian to the
fact that the crowd were beginning to get
bored.
So Lucian did the obvious thing, and brought his knee right up into the
poor Gaul's groin.
As Lucian's knee thudded into Vindrex's
crotch, ramming the poor cunt's balls right up
into his pubic bone, squashing them horribly,
the poor little tosser squealed like a girl.
“Shit ! My bollocks !”, he squealed, rather obviously, and we were all
laughing and cheering as the poor boy clutched pathetically at the pouch
of his tiny loincloth – which was no longer bulgin' – as the boy had
obviously lost his 'hard-on' – but then who wouldn't, with a knee rammed
up into their bollocks !
But that was not the end of the fight !
The poor lad then ended up standing whimpering, with his legs pulled
together, clutching his balls.
He was moaning to Lucian that he was 'bollocked' and 'fucked', - which
was fuckin' obvious, - and he was pleading that he couldn't go on.
Of course Lucian couldn't accept the young Gaul's submission at that
point. It would have made the fight far too short – so he simply ignored
Vindrex, a carried on wrestling, despite the fact that Vindrex was unable to
defend himself.
Just to make things even worse for the poor little bugger, who was still
hangin' on to his aching balls, Lucian then grabbed the bulging bollock-
pouch of the poor boy's loincloth, at the same time grabbing his neck with
the other hand, and lifted the unfortunate
bugger right off the sand. With the young
Gaul squealing and kickin' he held the lad
there for a few moments, and then dropped
him onto the sand.
Vindrex just collapsed in a heap, and went on
grabbing at his crushed bollocks and
moaning for mercy – which he obviously
wasn't gonna get.
So Lucian put Vindrex in a neck-lock, and pushed the youngster's hips
forwards.
Now despite just having been kneed in the balls, the sexy little fucker was getting 'horny' again,
possibly because he could feel Lucian's leather covered bulge - Lucian of course always seemed to
have a 'hard-on' - pushing against his arse-crack, and we could all see the outline of the young Gaul's
stiffening cock through his loincloth.
We could then hear Lucian giving the terrified young Gaul the option of being 'finished-off' then and
there, or going along with Lucian and lettin' himself get 'abused' an' beaten-up for the crowd – in which
case Lucian said he'd let the kid go.
Well of course, we all knew that there was no way that Lucian would let the
young Gaul out of the arena – unless of course
he'd had his fuckin' bollocks ripped off an' his
neck snapped – but the stupid young Gaul
believed Lucian – an' so we all grinned, and
settled back to watch Lucian 'take apart' the
poor little cunt.
The Gallic boy – obviously overacting - then
went down onto his knees,begging for mercy
from Lucian, while we all roared and clapped
rhythmically with approval.
Lucian then went behind Vindrex and put the
helpless lad into a very professional neck-lock.
Vindrex put on a very good act of struggling, but we
could all see that it was a 'put-up' job.
Vindrex was obviously trying to act sexy – to get our
approval – wiggling his hips and pushing them forwards to show off his obvious
'bulge'.
He needn't have bothered, though, 'cause Lucian just reached down and untied
the young Gaul's loincloth.
Vindrex pleaded for Vindrex not to strip him naked – and meant it for real –
pointless really as he had already agreed to let Lucian abuse him.
Lucian fumbled about a bit and finally untied the straps round the back of the
loincloth so that the pouch hung loose. The waist band was still round the boy's
middle, so Lucian just lifted up the dangling back straps and tied them round the
lad's neck – leaving the poor little cunt with his thick prick and heavy balls
dangling.
And, of course, we all cheered as the young Gaul's thick, curly ginger bush was
exposed – 'cause that's what we really wanted to see !
Then the fight started to get really good, as Lucian forced young Vindrex
down onto his hands and knees – and we all realised that this was gonna
be a 'dog-style' arse-fuck.
Vindrex kept pleading for Lucian to stop, but Lucian simply pulled off his
black leather loincloth.
I'd seen Lucian wrestle before, and fuck his defeated opponent, so I knew
he was really 'hung like a horse'.
Well his cock was already pretty stiff, and he just gave it a few strokes with
his hand and it was fuckin' huge !
He then knelt behind Vindrex and just rammed it in the poor Gaul's waitin'
'hole. An' you should have seen the naked young Gaul's eyes pop, as his
arse was suddenly stuffed full with Lucian's 'meat' !
He grunted 'fuck' and jerked forwards as he was roughly penetrated by
horny Lucian.
Lucian then got on with the job, thrusting into the naked Gaul, while we all rhythmically clapped,
cheered and shouted in time to the thrusts.
Lucian mustn't have 'cum' for a while before the fight, 'cause in no time at all he was gruntin' and
moanin' and squirtin' his thick spunk all over Vindrex's cute little arse.
Lucian, as we all expected, had a really big 'spunk-up', and when he was finished he got to his feet and
was handed a white linen cloth by one of the arena slaves, As he was wiping the spunk off his cock a
cheer went up from some in the crowd.
What they had seen was Vindrex getting to his feet with a huge 'stiffy'.
As a result of gettin' fucked by Lucian, the dirty little cunt had got real 'horny', and his cock, which was
real big for a kid of his age, was sticking out in front of him, and wobbling from side to side as he got
up.
He looked embarrassed, but I don't think it was the first time he'd been fucked up the arse, otherwise I
don't think he'd have got such a big 'hard-on'.
Anyway, Lucian hearing the calls of the crowd for Vindrex to 'toss-off', told the young Gaul to start
wanking or get his throat cut.
Given a choice like that all the poor kid could do was grab hold of his stiff
prick and start pullin' on it.
While Vindrex got on with 'tossin' -off', and the crowd cheered him on, Lucian
finished cleaning himself up, put his groin-protector, and black leather
loincloth back on, and stood back to watch the young Gaul.
From pretending to not want to wank, Vindrex was by then really getting' into
it, pushing his hips forward and gruntin and looking intently at his big knob,
as he pulled his foreskin back and forwards.
Everybody was watching the young wanker, fascinated.
Eventually we saw that his balls were pulling up
to the ginger hairs of his crotch, and his belly
muscles started to go tense – so he was
obviously about to cum.
Finally he grunted 'Oh shit !', real loud, but before
he started to squirt his seed, the arena-slaves
grabbed his wrists, an pulled the lad's hands away from his massive prick.
The the 'horny' young Gaul started to spurt, and because he was not still
pullin' at his cock, his big 'tool' just jerked up and down with each squirt –
an' it looked so fuckin' sexy.
An' didn't he 'spunk-up' ! - He just jerked his hips forwards, looked down at
his huge, jerkin' cock, as it jetted out ropes of cum, and talked 'dirty' – not to
anybody in particular – and we just laughed and cheered.
Eventually he stopped 'spunking', and the arena-slaves let go of his wrists.
He then sank to his knees, while squeezing out the last of his spunk from
his rapidly shrinking cock.
Lucian, however, had got incredibly 'horny' while he'd been watching Vindrex 'tossing-off', and by the
time Vindrex had 'spunked-up', Lucian had trouble keeping his cock in his tiny, leather loincloth.
Well, Lucian wasn't gonna 'toss-off', so he was obviously gonna fuck the young Gaul for a second time.
The arena-slaves pushed Vindrex onto his back, and ripped the loincloth from his neck and waist, so
he was only wearing his arm-guards and collar.
Lucian then pulled off his obscenely 'tented' loincloth, and knelt down in
front of Vindrex.
He then pushed the boy's legs over his head, exposing the lad's arse-
hole, and penetrated him
The young Gaul squealed, 'cause this time Lucian went in real deep.
Vindrex kept squeelin' for Lucian to stop, but Lucian just kept rammin' his
huge cock into the poor boy, fuckin' him silly.
The second fuck by Lucian took longer than the first, and while Lucian
was thrusting vigorously into the young Gaul, Vindrex got really 'hard'
again, with his thick, long cock twitching
and jerkin' on his sweaty belly.
Eventually Lucian grunted, pulled his
prick out of the young Gaul's arse-hole,
and spunked up over the young lad's
face, chest and belly. At the same time Vindrex's prick jerked up and
spewed out thick lines of spunk onto his own chest and belly, so that
the two 'loads' of spunk mixed.
An' that was enough ! The Gaul had been really humiliated, so we
imagined that Lucian would then throttle the lad , or break his neck.
Instead, Vindrex was helped up, by the arena-slaves, so he was
kneeling on the sand. Despite all the humiliation and 'spunkin'-up',
however, the dirty little tosser still started to get yet another 'hard-on'
Meanwhile, Lucian put his loincloth back on.
Lucian then untied Vindrex's arm-guards, leaving the young Gaul completely naked, an' with his jerkin'
cock stickin' out straight from his 'thick' bush of ginger pubes he looked real sexy.
Maybe 'cause he was he was stark-fuckin'-naked, - it seemed that the dirty little tosser really wanted to
wank, 'cause he kept touchin' his stiff, jerkin' cock, and lookin' up at Lucian – pleadin'.
And we, of course, were shoutin' to Lucian to let the boy 'toss-off' – an' of course Lucian was quite
happy to go on givin' us a show.
So, Vindrex got to his feet, grabbed hold of his big, twitchin' 'member', and started pullin' at it.
So 'horny' little Vindrex started all over again, but I don't think that the stupid
cunt realised that this was the last wank, and the last 'spunk-up' that he
would ever have.
He seemed to think that as he was puttin' on such a good 'sex-show' he
would be allowed to leave the arena alive, so that he could fight again and
'amuse' the crowd again.
I knew, of course, that Gracchus had a plentiful supply of wrestlers, and that
he could easily spare Vindrex – who wasn't a very good wrestler anyway.
After a good wank, Vindrex eventually 'spunked-up' – for the last time, and
sunk to his knees, groanin', while Lucian went over to give the arena-slaves
some instructions.
As it turned out, Lucian, by then, thought that Vindrex had had a good 'run for
his money', wankin' and spunkin' – an' so, as he
didn't need the boy to be able to get a 'stiffy' any
more, he would go for the lad's balls, before
'finishing him off''.
While Vindrex fumbled with his dribblin', cock, one arena-slave held his arms,
while another tied one end of the boy's discarded loincloth round Vindrex's
bulgin' ball-sack.
This got the kid really scared, and he started pleadin with Lucian not to rip
his bollocks off.
Lucian, of course, ignored the silly little cunt, and started pulling on the strip
of loincloth, stretching the poor little wanker's ball-bag.
Vindrex, who was held by the arena-slaves, was squeelin' and shoutin', an'
we all loved – shoutin' to Lucian to 'castrate the horny cunt' – but, of course,
Lucian would leave that 'till later.
For now he just wanted to see the naked young lad squirm.
Once Lucian had given the young Gaul's balls a good stretch, he told the
arena-slaves to tie Vindrex to the arena wall.
So – the poor, moanin' lad was dragged over to the wall, and tied to some
iron rings, with his arms spread, and his legs
practically dislocated they were stretched so
wide.
And then Lucian started kickin' the pathetic little
tosser right in the bollocks, an' there was
nothin' the poor lad could do about it, as his
legs and arms were tied.
An' poor Vindrex was lookin' down at his big
bulgin' bollocks, unable to believe what was
happenin' to him, as Vindrex boot smashed into
them, - and with each kick he squealed, squirted some piss from his half-
hard' prick, and squirted shit from his twitching
arse-hole, while we all cheered as each kick
landed on the young Gaul's balls.
An' the kickin' just went on an' on, an' we thought Lucian was gonna kill
the poor cunt – 'cause I have seen fighters killed with a few well aimed
kicks to the balls – they just go into shock, their heart stops, an' they're
dead.
But young Vindrex was a tough little runt, and just kept squeelin' and
takin' it.
Well, were were all clappin' and cheernin' ourselves hoarse – to see a
dirty little naked Gaul get the beatin' of his life – an' he was just helpless,
tied up and getting' his big, fat balls mangled.
Vindrex was clever, though, and didn't wanna kill the cunt just then, an' when he saw that the young lad
couldn't take much more, he stopped, and ordered the arena slaves to untie Vindrex.
Vindrex, of course, by this time had realised that Lucian was gonna kill him, so his one thought was to
get away.
As soon as the ropes were untied,Vindrex got unsteadily to his feet.
The kickin' he'd just got, however, meant that his legs had gone, and
all he could do was waddle across the sand, groanin', pissin' and
shittin' as he went.
An' didn't we laugh, and whistle and
cheer as the poor lad tried to get away
from Lucian.
But after a few moment, his legs gave
way completely, an' he ended up
kneeling on the sand, clutchin' at his
ruined bollocks, beggin' for mercy.
But Lucian wasn't finished with Lucian
yet, and ordered the arena-slaves to
grab hold of Vindrex and pull him up
onto his knees.
Lucian then bent down, grabbed hold of
Vindrex's battered balls, and started to
twist and squeeze them.
The pain for the young Gaul must have been excruciating, and he knelt
on the sand, screamin' and pissin'.
Most of the crowd thought that Lucian was gonna rip the poor cunt's
balls right off, but that wasn't to be so,
'cause Lucian had even more torture
for the young Gaul before he was to be
made a eunuch.
After givin' the poor boy some really
appallin' ball-torture, Lucian then told
the arena-slaves to turn Vindrex onto
his back, an' ram a baton into the boy's
arse-hole.
Vindrex, still screamin' for help, was so weakened by then that there
was nothin' he could do to stop Lucian and the arena-slaves from
abusin' him, an' the poor tosser ended up on his back on the sand, with
his legs raised high, being viciously buggered with a thick, wooden
baton.
What they were tryin' to do, apart from humiliatin' him, was to get him to
have another 'hard-on', but the poor cunt had had his bollocks so mangled,
that his prick was unable to get stiff.
And the little fucker really squealed as the arena-slave rammed the big
baton in an' out the poor lad's 'hole.
So after given' him a really good 'seein' to', which didn't get him 'hard'
though, they left the naked lad for a few moments to crawl across the sand,
with the big baton right up his arse, - jerkin' and
twitchin' as he moved, - moanin' and groanin' to
Gracchus for mercy.
Gracchus, who had been watchin' – on and off
– had now got a bit bored with the young Gaul,
and sent a message down to Lucian for him to
castrate and kill Vindrex.
The arena-slaves then dragged Vindrex into the centre of the arena, and
forced him to kneel upright.
Then, while they held the young Gaul, Vindrex bent down and grabbed
Vindrex's balls.
As if the boy knew that this was the end of his fuckin' and wankin', he
instantly got a huge 'hard-on'.
I had seen this happen quite a lot when fighters were to get their 'bit's chopped off, or when they were
gonna be killed.
They get a real fuckin' big 'hard-on', an' often spunk-up – even without touchin' themselves - . It''s as if
they are trying' to fertilise somethin' just before it's too late – but their 'seed' just splatters onto the sand
uselessly.
Lucian then twisted the squealin' little cunt's ball-bag, until the skin ripped, and then wrenched off the
young Gaul's balls.
Vindrex screamed horribly, while we all cheered an' cheered, as Lucian held up the naked boy's bloody
bollocks – after all, that's what we'd been waitin' for – to see the young cunt loose his fuckin' balls an'
then be killed.
Vindrex, meanwhile, had almost feinted, and was held up by one slave, while the other took the ball-
bag from Lucian, attached it to a cord, and tied the bloody bits round Vindrex's neck so that he would
be suitably 'kitted out' when he was 'finished-off.
The slaves then rolled Vindrex onto the sand, so that they could pull the baton out of his arse. This was
so that the lad could shit when he was finally killed – we always liked to see a dying fighter humiliate
himself by shittin' in his last moments.
Then the moment came
Stark naked, Vindrex was forced to kneel on the sand, with his balls
hangin' on his chest.
He was screamin' that he didn't wanna die – but
they nearly all do that.
Lucian then started to throttle the lad, in the hope of
givin' him a big 'hard-on'. Vindrex got half hard, but
then started pissin' again. So Lucian twisted the
groanin' boy's head – there was a crunch, as the
poor little cunt's neck snapped, an' Vindrex grunted
an' farted, an' emptied his guts onto the sand as his
body went limp.
Lucian then let go of the lad, and Vindrex fell onto
the sand, into his own shit, with his legs twitchin for
a few moments, an' then he lay still – dead.
While we all cheered and clapped, the arena-slaves busied themselves
shovelin' up the blood, shit and piss splattered sand, and spreadin' new in its place, while other slaves
trussed up the dead Gaul's naked corpse, re-inserting the baton, to stop the guts dribblin' out, an' cuttin'
off the dead young Gaul's prick – which by then was just a tiny little wrinkled sausage – which they
hung rouns the neck, along with the balls..
They then hung the naked corpse from the arena wall.
An' that was the end of young Vindrex – the Gaul with the big cock, fat balls an' ginger pubes.

© Copyright Roman Gladiator 2010

CRUCIFIXION

It important to realize that ten's of thousands of men throughout history have been crucified on a cross,
and the practice originates from the Persians as best can be determined.
Alexander the Great and his military officers probably brought it back from the Mediterranean, most
likely from Egypt and Carthage.
The Romans took it from there, learning the method from the Carthaginians, and then improving upon
it.
Without question, at the height of the Roman Empire it was practised with a high degree of efficiency,
and was used often to execute enemies of Rome, as well as slaves and other non-citizens.
During the third Servile War (Servile Wars 135-71 B.C.) the Romans executed six thousand slaves, all
simultaneously, along the whole length of the Appian Way from Capua to Rome.
It's hard to imagine a mass execution of that magnitude in today's context, but it occurred and
crucifixion was the method used for their executions. It's hard to imagine that many slaves hanging
from individual crosses, lining the highway like signposts, each suffering terribly as they slowly died.
Still, it happened.
Without doubt, crucifixion was a part of the Roman culture and was the preferred method of execution
for their enemies.
No wonder several Roman authors even wrote about it, including Cicero, Livy, and Tacitys.

Before we hear the account of a crucifixion in the arena, it's important for the reader to understand the
method and why it was used.
Crucifixion is a torturous, drawn out and very slow death, and depending on the health of the man
being executed, and the techniques used to affix him to his cross, that death could be from and hour, to
up to several days in coming.
As practised, it was also almost invariably a very painful and a very humiliating death.
For a man to scream and beg and cry out for mercy was so demeaning that it could almost not be
contemplated.
Men were supposed to die with honour, bravely, and preferably in battle or at least fighting hard, with
their heads held high even as they were speared or beheaded or even hanged. But men being crucified
almost never died with honour. In fact, some didn't even die as men.

There is historical evidence that indicates that most men that were executed on the cross were stripped
naked, and were exposed to large crowds either in a public square (forum), main road, (such as the
Appian Way in Rome), or in the arena.
In fact, naked crucifixions were the norm, and it was a rare thing to allow the criminal to keep his
clothes, if it ever happened at all. Instead, exposing them and putting them on display as they died in a
society where modesty was all-important had to be so humiliating that it's hard to even imagine today.
Of course, humiliation and a degrading death were part of the method, and
were part of the reasons it was used as it was. It was a death to be feared,
and it was considered so demeaning and so humiliating that in ancient
Rome it was forbidden to crucify a citizen.
No Roman citizen could be crucified, under any circumstance, or for any
reason, regardless of what his crime was.
That alone tells us how heinous a death it was considered to be.
The crosses used to kill them were usually in two pieces, although
sometimes individuals were crucified on trees, and there were enough
variations that it is hard to be specific about a particular norm. Still, usually,
the crosses were in two parts.
The vertical posts, called "stipes" were usually permanently mounted into
the ground.
Contrary to many artists portrayals, usually these posts were not that tall, because as long as the man
being crucified couldn't touch the ground with his feet then the lower he was the easier people could
taunt him and watch his misery.
Further, once he was dead, normally he was left on his cross, hanging as an
example and warning to others.
The man being executed was made to carry the heavy cross piece, usually
on his back, and often with his two wrists tied out along the beam, so that he
couldn't put it down or drop it.
He was then made to walk, usually wearing only a small loincloth, through
the town or city, to his place of execution.
If he stopped or faltered then he was beaten or whipped to keep him going.
Along the way the crowds would often jeer him, mocking him and laughing at
his 'well deserved' penalty.
Of course, as he carried his cross piece his arms would grow tired, and it is
estimated that it probably weighed in the area of eighty pounds or more.
Some estimates are as high as one hundred pounds. It was probably made
of olive wood, and there is archaeological evidence in at least one case to support that.
This cross piece was called the "patibulum" and it could be mounted to the vertical post either at the
very top, forming a "T" shaped cross, or into a groove, in what we today would think of as a more
classic cross.
Other cross designs were used however, and some men were even crucified
to trees when it was more convenient to do so.
The Romans used various methods to affix the condemned man to the cross.
Certainly, many were probably just tied in place, their wrists bound to the
patibulum and their ankles similarly tied to the stipe.
However, for the worst offenders, crude nails were used.
These metal spikes were an especially cruel method and perhaps that's why
the Romans favoured them.
The only recovered skeleton of a man that was actually crucified still has a
crucifixion spike driven through its right ankle, with its leg bones broken. The
recovered artifact also shows a smaller flat piece of wood under the head of
the nail, invariable to insure that the man couldn't pull his tissue through to free himself, regardless of
how hard he struggled.
The spikes certainly made certain that the man stayed where he was nailed, even after he was dead
and rotting. This of course had additional deterrent value, and the fact that it hurt more and caused a
more excruciating death certainly made it favourable as a method of attachment.
Nailing the prisoner to his cross was common, although it is more difficult to say if it was the normal
method used.
Without question though, many were nailed to cross, with the spike going between the two major long
bones of the arm right where they attach to the wrist.
There was another reason to nail a man rather than to tie him. It hurt more. A lot more, and that
intensified the torture and increased the deterrence value.
The reason that this is so is that there happens to be a very sensitive nerve that runs up the arm and
through the wrist area, right at the juncture of the long bones of the arm. This main nerve is called the
median nerve, and as the nail was driven through it a fiery, almost electrical, pain would have shot up
the arms and hands and fingers, exploding within the brain with an intensity that cannot truly be
imagined.
Further, any subsequent movement, any at all, would put a strain on the flesh at the nailed area and
would stimulate the nerve, and would be painful beyond imagine, to a depth and to a degree that could
never be achieved if the man was simply tied to his cross.
Some men were only secured by their wrists, and they were just allowed to hang from their arms until
they expired. However, the death process would occur much faster when that method was used, and
since this usually wasn’t desired almost always the feet were also attached to the upright post.
This would stretch out the execution, and prolong the man's suffering immensely.
So, because of that, normally the criminal's feet were also nailed to the upright post.
There are several methods that appear to have been used.
Based on the archaeological find, two nails were at least sometimes used, one for each foot, and the
man's legs were nailed to the sides of the upright beam, with one spike driven sideways straight
through each one of his heels.
The only recovered skeleton of a crucified man was nailed in this manner, as there is a six inch spike
still embedded in one heel bone and part of the wood cross is still attached.
Another method appears to have been to use a single, longer nail, and then driving it straight through
one foot that was placed and held on top of the other. That long nail was then driven straight down
through the top of the feet and into the upright post underneath.
The amount of flex that was allowed in the legs was all important, and was the single most important
item that would determine the length of suffering the condemned would have.
f the criminal's legs were bent in such a manner that he could fully straighten them, locking his knees,
then he could stand and take the weight off of his wrists more easily, alleviating much of the suffering
he would otherwise endure.
However, if his legs were nailed with a twist, or his feet were bent downward with his toes pointing at
the ground, then it would prevent the man from rising up to the point he could lock his knees.
He could still lift himself, but only with his muscles, and he would have to strain to hold himself upward
to take the pressure from his arms and the nerves punctured by the nails there.
Of course, that was desired, and the research indicates that the Romans usually did it that way.
By pointing the toes downward and nailing the man's feet through the top and then through the arches,
attaching them securely to the post, it would be impossible for the crucified man to lock his knees. The
same thing could be accomplished by folding his legs slightly backwards, with bent knees, before
nailing them individually at the ankles.
Either way would ensure a long torturous death.
The criminal could only rise up to a point, but not lock his knees.
Because of that, he would only be able to stand up as long as the muscles in his thighs and those in his
arms could support him. Invariable, he would grow tired, and he would fall down, hanging again from
his wrists until the shooting pain of doing so made him rise up again.
Of course, hanging from these nails, and onto his median nerve, would be an indescribable torment
that would have no end.
The more weight the man put on his wrists, the more pain he endured.
Hoisted up, and hanging that way, the condemned was now "crucified."
After that, his dance of death would commence, to the delight of those watching, and it would go on
and on for a long time, and for some, even days.
As the criminal sagged down and put more weight on the nails in his wrists, the pain became
unbearable.
So, he would push himself upward to avoid this wrenching torment, by placing his weight on the nail or
nails that have been driven through his feet.
Again there would be the searing agony from the nerves that surround the metatarsal bones of the feet.
So, up and down he would go - up and down, dancing the death dance that all crucified men danced.
They did not hang quietly, and they did not stay still.
In fact, there is some indicators that when they were first placed on their cross most men struggled
fiercely, jerking and thrashing as they fought to find some position to alleviate the terrible pain that
consumed them.
Of course, there was no position at all that offered relief, but they would thrash and jerk and try to find it
anyway.
The pain was too much to comprehend, and while they had the strength the screams would come as
they jerked and fought with every muscle.
And of course, being naked, they were quite the spectacle.
Worse, humiliated as they were, they had to listen to the taunting of the crowds as they lifted and fell,
lifted and fell.
The mechanism of death that occurs during crucifixion is slow in coming, but it is relentless and in the
end it is always lethal.
There is no historical evidence that any man has ever survived a crucifixion.
Once nailed to their cross, they hung until they died.
At first, they hung by their wrists, their body screaming in pain.
They lift up, straining with their thigh muscles to hold their weight and take the pressure off of their
wrists. But soon through, a new phenomenon occurs.
As the arms stretch out and he strains his muscles start to cramp, and these cramps never become
less, but instead just grow and grow and grow.
Likewise, the big thigh muscles would strain and begin to cramp too, and since he couldn't lock his
knees and he couldn't stand the pain of hanging from his wrists there, was really nothing he could do.
Soon, the pain would intensify and consume him, and at the same time his muscles would turn into
knots, leaving him in deep, driving pain, that has no bounds and with no relief in sight.
His arm muscles would quiver, and the shaking intensified as the minutes turn slowly went by.
Eventually, after some period of time, the muscles would finally fail him completely.
Soon, the cramps would become so great that he would be unable to use his arms to pull himself
upward.
Hanging by his arms, the pectoral muscles would soon be virtually paralysed with fatigue.
His intercostals muscles would stop working next, and as his muscles failed, his shoulders would
actually dislocate from their sockets.
The time for this to happen depended on the physical strength of the man.
It certainly did not happen right away, but eventually it happened non-the-less.
When it did the pain increased to a level that was unbearable.
Screaming, the man felt his muscles quiver and, as he tried to lift himself, the pain would continue to
intensify to ever increasing levels, and his misery would literally grow by the minute.
Something even more sinister would then start to happen.
Hanging that way, he could breathe inward easily, his diaphragm automatically pulled downward. But
as his intercostal muscles would be fatigued, it it would become increasingly difficult to exhale, to force
his chest muscles to move his diaphragm and to push out the air he has sucked into his lungs.
If he was fully stretched out, hanging with his full weight from his wrists, it would eventually become
impossible breathe out.
His breathing would then become increasingly laboured, and shallow, and soon he would feel that he
was suffocating.
Panic would then set in, and instinct would take over, and so he would try to hoist himself up with a
renewed desperation, which would relieve the pressure on his diaphragm and allow him to breathe
once again.
But the pain to take that breath is impossible to describe.
It would have been a stabbing knife like pain that would emanate from the nails in his wrists and feet.
Still, he would make the movement, just to breathe, no matter how much it hurts to do so.
Each time when he moved himself upward, his thighs quivering as his muscles went into spasm, the
pressure on his diaphragm would lessen, and he would be able to exhale.
So, he would then hold himself up, gasping, sucking his air in and out of his lungs while the pain shot
up and down his legs and radiated from his wrists.
His muscles would shake and quiver. But he would be standing on his nails, his leg muscles cramping,
and using his arms also, straining to lift himself upward.
So, to breathe, he would have to live through intense pain shooting through him, as he sucked in air,
gasping as he struggled..
Of course, his muscles couldn't hold him in that position forever, and not being able to lock his knees
he would sag downward once again, exhausted, feeling his full weight again being born by the nails
through his wrists.
Again, the pain would shoot through his arms, screaming into his brain, and his breathing would
become laboured, and he again he would feel that he was suffocating.
Once this breathing phenomenon had begun, it never would never let up.
From that moment onward, he would be forced to pull and strain, and push himself upward, every few
minutes, even though the pain would shoot through his muscles each time, making them cramp and
quiver.
You would think he would just give in, to hasten his own death, and simply lay quiet, and allow his
breathing to stop. But he could not, no matter how much he wished that he could.
After several minutes of not being able to get a full breath, the instinct to breathe would be
overwhelming, and so once again he would do whatever it took to satisfy that instinct, straining with
every muscle to lift and breathe.
As he did so, each time the intensity of the pain would consume him.
Still, pain and all, he would be forced to repeat the process, time and time again.
Eventually he would even loose the strength to scream, even though the pain was intensified.
The man, by then would be in terrible pain, and all the while he would be struggling just to lift and
breathe.
There would, at such a point, be nothing else for him; no hope, no future,
just another laboured breath won with an excruciating and agonizing effort.
With each motion upward, his legs would quickly give out, and again he
would fall back upon his wrists to again feel the shooting pain.
Up and down he would move, doing the dance of death on the cross.
If a man's legs were attached in such a way that he couldn't use his leg
muscles at all to pull himself upward, then death would occur fairly quickly.
For example, if he was left to just hang by his wrists death would occur
within a very short time. Because of this, if it was desired to hasten a man's
death, sometimes his legs would be broken, preventing him from that
moment onward from using them to push himself upward, thus leaving him
hanging from the nails through his wrists, and that invariably would hasten
his expiration.
There is physical and documented evidence that some men were either shown "mercy" in this manner,
or 'finished off' quickly if it was an execution in the arena, by smashing their leg bones so that they
could die faster.
There was one final variable that the Romans added to the process of crucifixion, and it was called the
"sedile."
Sediles were not used on all crucified criminals, but they were definitely used, and their use is
documented in some sources.
The sedile was a seat of sorts, that allowed the condemned man to take some of the weight off of his
shoulders and arms, which drew out the death process and prolonged his suffering.
Using a sedile could more than double the time it would take for the man to die.
Probably the most common sedile was a simple rod, or plank, that jutted straight out of the upright post
and went between his legs.
It wasn’t supposed to be comfortable. The condemned man could sit down on it, to a degree, sharing
the load on the nailed feet.
Certainly, it would crush his genitals as he did so, but that only added to his humiliation.
In addition, it was always positioned so that the man couldn't put his full weight on it...it wasn't that high.
Using a sedile that went between the legs was tricky, because if too much weight was allowed to be
lifted off the arms then the cramping would be averted, and agony would be lessened and breathing
made easier.
To increase the suffering of the condemned, sometimes the sedile was made out of a flat piece of
wood, that had been sharpened to a fine edge.
There is at least some indications that some sediles were even made of a triangular shaped piece of
iron.
We can only imagine the pain and the damage that would have been caused if a man collapsed
downward onto such a seat, slamming his naked genitals into the sharpened piece of wood or metallic
bar that was jutting out between his legs, and it is probable that a significant number of prisoners
crucified in such a matter slowly castrated themselves as they struggled.
There is no documentation to support that however, although there is documentation on a different type
of sedile, that was definitely used when it was deemed important to increase the humiliation of the man
being crucified. This type of sedile was regularly used when slaves were being crucified for sexual
offences, (usually rape).
Instead of a plank or post that went between the legs, a fairly stout rod, with a large bulbous end, was
used, usually made of wood, that was positioned into the
condemned man's rectum so that he was not really seated onto it,
but rather had it inside him.
A man impaled on such a seat was, in Roman eyes, totally
humiliated, and there is little doubt that in most cases such a torture
could be sexually stimulating, creating an even greater and more
demeaning death for the condemned.
When his arms became so fatigued that he allowed himself to relax
and fall downward, the sedile rod would go deep in his rectum,
literally buggering him it in a very real and embarrassing way.
As it pushed deep inside of him, taking his weight, it would literally
push all the way into his prostate.
Of course, hanging down that far, the pain would then shoot through
his wrists, and he would feel the need to use his thigh muscles and
his arms and pull himself upward, lifting himself and in so doing
pulling the rod upward within his rectum.
Up and down he would struggle, all the time moving himself up and down over the rod in his anus.
It would be impaling him, and in a way, it would be almost like it was moving too, up and down inside of
him, literally buggering him.
For the man being crucified in front of a Roman crowd, this had to be without doubt the most
demeaning and most humiliating punishment possible. In fact, it had to have been so horrible that it is
almost unimaginable.
The crucified man would feel the shame with every movement, and yet, to breathe and to shift the pain
from his wrists, he would nevertheless ride his pole, up and down, shifting the screaming misery of his
pain from his wrists to his legs - back and forth appalling, humiliating desperation.
Of course the criminal almost invariably would have had an erection, and there are some contemporary
paintings where there are erections on the men being crucified, and that no doubt stems from first hand
observations.
Of course, the executioners would have wanted that, encouraged it even, and we can imagine how
they would have kept watch over him the days before his execution in order to make sure he was
unable to relieve himself by masturbating, so that he would have lots of 'seed' to spill.
One can only speculate how many times a naked crucified criminal would have ejaculated in front of
the crowd, as he jerked and twisted and struggled up and down on the
rod, and each time the criminal ejaculated the crowd must have roared
with delight.
A small sign was almost always placed above the man, or around his
neck, so that anyone seeing him would know what he had done, which
in such a case would have been to rape a Roman citizen, and see the
consequences of his actions.
As they watched him abuse his own anus, spill his 'seed', and scream
and struggle from the pain, this was all important, as one of the
purposes of executing the criminal so publicly and in such a humiliating
manner was to deter others from doing similar crimes.
For those guilty of particularly violent rape, or a combination of rape
and murder, crucifixion could also be combined with castration.
After the criminal had emptied all his 'seed', as a result of buggering himself on the sedile, the
executioners would, in such cases, either rip off the slave's testicles with a heavy weight, or simply cut
then off, and possibly also slice off the unfortunate victim's penis.
Often the severed scrotum would then be hung round the slave's neck, and the severed penis would be
stuffed into the unfortunate prisoner's mouth.
Finally, the criminal's muscles would be unable to take any more, and he would rise up less and less.
So, with open eyes and the agony of a man who cannot breathe and who has no muscles left to lift
himself again, slowly death would come to him. ...
20th Century painting of a Crucifixion of a Slave
Painting of a Crucifixion of a Slave - 1907
Subject to further additions
 © copyright Dark Tales 2010

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see next page for other publication and websites featuring 'A Day at the Games'
 If you enjoyed reading 'A Plebeian at the Games' why not read 'A Day at the
games – A study in ancient Roman Culture' ?

This publication is an academic study of the phenomena of the Roman games, giving you
valuable insights into the origins of the Roman games, and explaining, in detail all the
intricacies of the ancient Roman arena. It also includes, however, also fully illustrated,
graphic and explicit reconstructions of events in the Roman arena.

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 © copyright Dark Tales 2010

For more stories about Ancient Rome see:

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http://www.scribd.com/doc/29875239/A-Day-at-the-Games
http://www.scribd.com/doc/35979078/Calvius-and-the-Boy-Gladiators
http://www.scribd.com/doc/31977471/A-Day-at-the-Games-Gallery

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We go into the future with 'Judicial Execution'
The story of two young 'sex offenders' who are judicially tortured & executed.

http://www.scribd.com/doc/37244448/Judicial-Punishment-Revenge-is-Sweet
 For more information about the Roman Games go to

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