Taking the Chain - Sex Stories

Taking the Chain

The crowd roared, shaking the very foundations beneath Durus' feet. From the cacophony, the chants rang clear.

"Mordax, Mordax, Mordax!"

Durus' smiled as he pulled his sweat-laden leathers from his body. His bout in the arena had been successful and while he too had received his share of cheers and chants, it paled in comparison to the chorus that Mordax was receiving.

Mordax was in his first season, a fresh young gladiator going up against some of the most seasoned and awarded Minotaur the arena had ever seen. And he was winning. He'd quickly become a crowd favourite, and it wasn't just because of his fighting prowess. Mordax jeered at his opponents, toyed with them, and made a show to the crowds when he won. Young. Cocky. Invincible in his youth.

Durus had been itching to fight the young bull all season. And Mordax had just won his final bout. Tomorrow, at last, they would face each other, and Durus would put the arrogant bull in his place.

Durus quickly rinsed the sweat and dirt from his body before stepping into the steaming baths. They were blessedly empty, the other fighters having left in indignation as their chances of winning the title were crushed beneath stronger opponents. Beneath him. Durus leaned back as the chants died off. The hot waters soothed his aching muscles.

The clop of hooves interrupted his drowsing thoughts, and Durus had to smile as his future opponent entered the baths.

Mordax was the perfect example of a peak Minotaur body. ...

... He was tall and broad, his shoulders boulders of pale muscles with a trail of thick hair trailing down his chest to his crotch. His red unruly hair, the soft brown of his nose and the wide-spread upright fashion of his horns showed his ancestry from across the oceans. He also dared to stain his horns in bright colours, today they were tipped in blue, contrasting ridiculously with the red of his hair. It was just another reason the crowds loved him. He stood out amongst the other bulls.

But Durus wasn't intimidated. He came from a long line of fighters, trained for decades, his horns curled and pointed forward like any decent fighter should. His fur was as black as night and gleamed almost blue in the right light. While he didn't stand out for blushing maidens to swoon over, anyone with true knowledge would look at him and know he was a prime specimen of Minotaur breeding.

"Still," he thought, watching Mordax step out of his leathers. "I can see the appeal."

There wasn't a mark on Mordax's pale skin. He'd won his fight effortlessly.

Even more reason for Durus to look forward to tomorrow's fight. Mordax would challenge him properly, and give him a good fight. And when he had the bull pushed into submission and offered him the chain, it would be all the sweeter when Mordax conceded his defeat.

"Durus," Mordax said with joy. "Congratulations on your victory earlier. It was an exciting match. But for a moment I truly thought I would be facing Velox tomorrow."

The ...