The New Champion

Liaisons

The Night Watchman

The Field of Practice

Sliced Beef

Wishing You a Happy Holidays

I know this is not necessarily on topic in this blog, but I decided to post this video to wish you all a Happy Holidays, a Merry Christmas, a Happy New Year and a Joyous whatever-you-celebrate.

 

Power Point

Rich Kid

Fallen Dead

Rocky Sunset

Wrapping the Wrapped

In The Stands

Late Night Workout

Shot through the Heart

Vanquished Stance

Vintage Shot

Jungle warrior

The trap

The spa treatment

The pressure and the pain

Briefly Yellow

Swim Hole

Secured

Holding it Together

Feeling the Burn

Low Attack

The Island to Avoid

Wilderness Explorer

Late Night Workout

Chiseled in Steel

Captive Kill

The Musician

Kitchen Nightmare

Gap in the Armor

Crowded Escape

Fall of the Celt

Story for a former pic

Hey Guys, 
  I completed a story to a former post.  It can be found here.

https://battlesanddeaths.blogspot.com/2017/01/rival-gang.html

You shall not win

The Rest is History

The Lounge Act

The escape driver

One night stand

From all Sides

Stud with Thuds

Quite a View

New Forum????

Hey guys,

    It was saddening to lose the Arenafighters Forum on Yuku/tapatalk last year.  JJ had taken a lot of effort to keep that forum alive and running for some time.
   I, too, attempted to set up a forum, but when I was away for too long, that forum was lost as well.  Through this effort, I can truly understand just how much work JJ had put into the arenafighters.  
   We all understand that forum was a great place for us.  A place where people with like interests could assemble and share thoughts, feelings and passions.  It was a place where many of us had the opportunity to learn, practice, develop, improve and share our creative works.
   I enjoyed my time in that forum, as well as in the one I had created.  Unfortunately, both were lost.  
  I would like to put out a plea for a group of us to get together to re-create a new forum for us.  I have found some that require a fee, but could not possibly fund, create and run the forum by myself.
  If you would like to be a part in creating a new forum, comment below or email me at gooberdoober1@yahoo.com.
  It would be great to reunite with old friends and have a place to meet new ones.
  Please join together.
And As Always,
Happy Battlings and a Glorious Death to You All!!!

B&D

  

Quickie on a Date

Pressing Issues

Marky's Mark

skewed revenge

Dark Underground

Vengeance (Story)

I walked out into the arena. My young, smooth body glistening in the sunlight. This was my first fight in the arena, but I was ready for it. As the son of one of the greatest lanistas in this town, I was well-acquainted with the arena.

I also knew my enemy well, the “great” champion of Antium. He was a highway robber who had killed my father and mother as they traveled from the city. I was only fourteen at the time and vowed my revenge. I stood before the magistrate and demanded the man's head. Instead, a rival lanista bribed the magistrate into letting the man fight for him in the arena.

I watched every fight, hoping to see him fall, instead, I saw him turn from a murderous villain into the “hero” of the city when he slew two gladiators brought by a Roman Senator. Being too young to own my father's gladiators, I was forced to sell them off, retaining only my personal servant, who was only a year older than I. Although I was still well off financially, I spent very little money. Most of the people who saw me walking the streets to the market, only saw some small, lanky boy and looked down on me as one to be pitied.

For the next few years, I had kept a very solitary life. I accepted no guests. The only companion I had was my servant, who, at times, seemed to be more of the master than I was. I spent my time training myself in my father's ludus and he was my doctore. For at least 14 hours every day, he would give me a brutal workout. Each passing hour, my young body ached and yearned to quit from the exhaustive pain. Most other men, better men than I, would have given up. Several times I passed out from the heat, but my servant was there to dowse my head with water and get me back up. My body was still weak, but my mind and heart were fixed.

Each month, I grew stronger and stronger, feeding myself on the same meat and gruel that my father had fed his gladiators on. At the crow of the rooster, before the light of day, I started my sword training until the sun was directly overhead. The heat of the afternoon sun gave me time for my endurance training. In the evening, was my strength training. As the finale of the strength training, I had my servant chain me against the wall and give my abs a long, gut-punching work-over until I could no longer stand on my own feet. He would then, drag me to my bed and lie with me for the evening. When the rooster howled in the pre-dawn light, I was up again.

Each day was the same schedule, with the exception of one day each week, when we would spend the morning in the market purchasing our needs and conducting what little business I could. By the peak of the sun, we lunched and took off on a a six-hour run along the coastline or up into the hills.

Without a break, I trained every day, preparing myself. Through all the pain and turmoil, my heart and mind were focused on one goal. If no other gladiator would arise to avenge my father's death and bring this villain down to the dust, then I would.

Four long years seemed to pass in short time. My pecs and shoulders bulged into hardened rocks. My once smooth belly, transformed itself into a granite washboard. The few times I could see my own reflection, I stood in awe. I, who was once a small gangly boy, was now a chiseled warrior.

I went to the magistrate and presented the challenge against “Antium's greatest champion.” At first, he was reluctant. He kept questioning my skills as a gladiator, and perhaps, I should challenge some lesser to gain more experience first. But, I was not about to become some common spectacle for others' entertainment. This was to be my only fight.

The magistrate knew of my lust for vengeance and justice. “Well,” said he, “You may not have the experience of being a gladiator. But, you most certainly have the heart.”

So here, today, I stand under the blazing sun in the hot sands of the arena. The crowd had heard of my challenge and it seemed that all the city had come to watch me avenge the death of my parents. It was astounding to see how quickly the fickle crowd, who had always cheered on their beloved champion had turned against him in an instant. I stood there, blade in hand, awaiting the last entrance that the champion will ever make.

The horns bellowed and the crowd booed as the other gate opened. He walked out from the darkness into the light of day. His massive muscular figure gleaming in the sunlight. I watched him as he flexed for the crowd. I was unmoved by his flaunts. All I could think of was how those same muscles would be tensing up when my sword ran him through. I enjoyed watching his little show, knowing full well, that his powerful physique would soon enough be doing a final encore.

He spread out his arms arrogantly and turned around haughtily, a mighty spectacle for the crowd to behold. He didn't seem to care about the disapproval of the crowd. He didn't need them. After all, he had his blade and it was far too easy to turn a crowd. A small tingling of doubt cast its shadow over me. I tried hard to subdue it. But, my heart began racing in my chest. Hatred and anger with even a slight touch of fear boiled over. After a quick salute, I made my charge.

He stood there, as I mustered my vengeful rage into a powerful courage and made my dash at him. My sword arm was fully cocked for the kill. The crowd was awed by my muscular, youthful beauty as I charged my opponent. Time seemed to briefly stand still. The ladies longed to have their legs and arms wrapped around my strong youthful hips. The older men desired to be or at least have me. I was a young god in their eyes, a god of youth, a god of strength, a god of justice, a god of beauty. Those four years slaving away myself at home had paid off. I was, for this brief moment, the new champion and the desire of all.

What was really about five seconds seemed more like an eternity as I made the charge. He might have strength and experience. But I had justice, heart and speed on my side. I got in close enough proximity to almost collide with him. I aimed the tip of my blade at his chest and was about to thrust my sword straight into his heart, when I felt a heavy hit to my gut, almost as if he had kneed me there.

I heard a loud gasp “Uuhhhh!!”. I wasn't sure if it was from him, me or the crowd. I bent forward and looked down at my gut to see his blade buried about six inches into my navel. My eyes widened in disbelief, shock ran throughout my body, causing me to drop my sword. This couldn't be. I looked up at him, my face flushed. His arrogant eyes squinted from his sly grin.

My stomach sickened. This was supposed to be justice. I looked again at my firm, strong body and realized that, though clothed in tightly toned muscles, I was still a weak young man. I had spent years training and toning, only to lose it all in a single quick instant.

He placed an arm around my shoulder. His chest pressed partly against mine as he whispered in my ear. “You had the heart of a warrior, but lacked the skill.”

My knees began to shake as blood ran down my belly and legs. My breathing was still strong and powerful. I felt as If I was going to pass out, but, he began rubbing my back gently. “Not yet,” he whispered. “You tried hard, now, the least you can do is die like a man.”

He slowly added pressure on the blade and I felt my whole abdomen begin throbbing violently as he buried the blade entirely through my gut. The sharp point sticking out through my back. I arched forward from the searing pain, my chest resting against his arm, my cheek pressed against his massive bicep.

He rubbed his hand tenderly between my shoulder blades and gave me a couple pats. “Now, that's a good boy. Go to your daddy.” With that, he yanked the blade out of my gut. The sharp, almost electric pain caused me to let out a muffled cry as I fell down to my knees. I bent forward, placing my hands over my wounds, the streaming blood trickled between my fingers.

I felt light-headed and dizzied as I fell over to my side. The sands around me were soaked red around where I lay. I looked up to see him raise his sword high in the air, my blood still dripping from it, while the crowd erupted out into great cheers. He had regained their favor and was again their champion. My abs muscles heaved together with a couple of pounding thrusts. I let out a couple quiet gaspy sighs through my blood-stained lips. My bare legs gave a final squirming seizure, my muscles tensed briefly and all went still........

Cold Concrete

Beach Skewer