The Mightiest Balls in Rome I

The Mightiest Balls in Rome

Marcus walked proudly past the two eunuchs who held open the bath house doors for him. He gave each a pitiful glance, noting their sad, limp dicks and empty scrotums, the sign of their low station and uselesses as men.

The steam of the bath house surrounded him, creeping around his ankles and muscular legs, washing over his rippling torso and bulging biceps. He strode naked to the edge of the marble pool and gazed down into the water, taking in his hazy reflection in the stillness below.

With a silent prayer, he thanked the gods for the prodigious manhood that swung between his tanned thighs. The long, thick cock and heavy, dangling balls that earned him the nickname, The Bull, in the wrestling pits and gladiatorial arenas of Rome.

He was shaken from his reverie by a feminine voice that called to him through the steam. He squinted through the torchlit gloom a moment before smiling as he recognised the voluptuous, tanned body of Valeria as she emerged from the depths of the baths. Water ran from her dark hair and muscular shoulders and arms, flowing over her firm breasts and erect nipples and down over her washboard stomach and thick bush, to splash from her strong legs. Her tan skin was cross crossed with white scars, a sign of her victories and survival in the arena.

‘Join me, Marcus.’ She smiled, ‘You must be tired after your latest victory.’

Marcus nodded, staring openly at her taut muscles and round breasts. His thick cock began to tremble and rise, immediately gleaming with precum. He stepped slowly into the bath, sighing as the warm waters soothed his aching legs and splashed against his sensitive and freshly shaven testicles.

‘Sheathe thy sword,’ Valeria laughed, splashing water over his hardening cock, ‘You know my mistress would have your balls if she caught you with me.’

Marcus smiled and grabbed her, holding her body tight against him, the shining head of his member sliding up the hard ridges of her stomach to nestle between the underside of her firm cleavage.

‘Then keep thy lips sealed,’ he whispered, ‘what she does not know won't hurt her.’

Valeria giggled and moaned as Marcus slipped a hand between her firm buttocks, his index finger massaging the tight bud of her asshole.

‘You are excited Marcus,’ Valeria moaned, relaxing her asshole so that his finger slipped inside. ‘I saw your victory in the arena. Poor Crixus wailed like a baby when your burst his balls with your hammer.’

Marcus groaned and thrust against her as he relished the recent memory of Crixus’ testicles exploding beneath the gleaming head of his Warhammer, splattering their precious contents over the sands of the arena. The screams of adoration from the spectators had been deafening and Marcus had proudly displayed his intact manhood above the writhing heap of flesh below him before delivering the killing blow.

‘It turns you on, doesn't it Marcus.’ Valeria whispered, ‘taking another man’s balls while the world watches?’

Marcus nodded and pushed her to her knees, his finger slipping from her trembling ass as she knelt in the shallow water. Dutifully she took the dripping head of his cock in her experienced mouth and began to suck eagerly, her head slipping up and down his throbbing length.

In her hands she took his mighty balls, so large that she could barely hold them in her grasp. As she sucked his cock she squeezed them firmly, making him moan like an animal.

‘Yes Marcus,’ she whispered, pulling her lips from his cock long enough to speak, ‘These are the most powerful balls in Rome are they not? The last thing many a gladiator has seen before their own manhoods are crushed and torn.’ She squeezed again, her strong fingers compressing his swollen orbs, ‘Balls without rival, the envy of any man who lays eyes on them, and an object of lust for any woman who gazes at them.’

Marcus moaned and trembled, Valeria's talented hands bringing his swollen balls to the tantalizing border between pleasure and pain, as she had done so many times before.

‘My balls,’ he groaned, his face twisting with eutrophia.

‘Yes Marcus,’ Valeria moaned, ‘Your mighty balls, the greatest in Rome!’ She squeezed tighter, rubbing the heavy orbs together in his smooth sack, ‘give me your seed. Show me what godlike load these balls can deliver!’

Marcus groaned, feeling his orgasm rising, his swollen balls churning with hot cum, his trembling cock twitching and dancing as it swayed hypnotically before Valeria's hungry mouth.

She squeezed again, threatening to crack his heaving orbs as he reached his climax.

With a primal cry his cock erupted with rope after rope of creamy jizz, splattering the face and tanned breasts of Valeria. She giggled and squeezed his balls harder, milking him like a barnyard beast as he screamed above her, his orgasm seemingly never ending.

Eventually his cock gave it's final throb and began to soften. She gave his balls a final gentle squeeze and released him, letting him slip into the water like a happy corpse. His calloused hands went to his crotch, clutching his aching balls as he floated in post orgasmic bliss.

Minutes passed before they rose from the waters together, their impressive bodies entwined as he kissed her goodbye. As he withdrew from her embrace he felt a sudden pain between his legs, a savage ache that stopped his world. Slowly he looked down to see a petite, feminine foot, clad in a fine leather sandal, buried in his tender ballsack. The feeling was unbearable, a brutal kick delivered only moments after his ball busting orgasm at the hands of Valeria.

He groaned as the toes wiggled briefly, further torturing his aching manhood, before it withdrew, allowing him to sink defeated to his knees.

He looked up to see a beautiful Roman noblewoman, with curling red locks of hair and pale, flawless skin, standing beside Valeria, who had also dropped to her knees in abject submission. The woman was beautiful, tall and curvaceous, with large pink nipples that stood proud atop low hanging breasts.

‘How dare you?’ She asked haughtily, looking down at him as he clutched his balls before her. ‘My name is Claudia, and that is my slave whom you have just spilled your seed upon.’

‘My apologies mistress,’ Marcus croaked, raising his hands in supplication as he sought her forgiveness. The gesture was a mistake. He watched as she snapped her foot forward, smashing his bruised orbs with ruthless abandon. Her ample breasts swung wildly with the effort, no measure of regard for his survival as a man.

He groaned and curled into a ball, his strong hands cupping his brutalized manhood, which throbbed and ached.

‘Your punishment shall be severe, Gladiator,’ Claudia spat, ‘severe indeed.’