New Career 187 A DChapter 2
- 4 years ago
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My opponent, Invictus, and I marched out together to the usual musical fanfare. We saluted the Emperor and went to our places. The referee started the match and Invictus immediately tried to snare me with his net. I had no trouble dodging this cast, probably because Invictus was just testing me. He was looking at my reaction time and general movement tendencies.
I needed to tire him as much as I could. I was really concerned about that damned net. His second cast was done with more technique, and he nearly caught me. I ducked at just the right time and used the opportunity to charge him to batter him with my shield. The boss of the shield caught him right in the gut, and those entanglers I'd added did a good job of marring the beauty of his belly. He began to bleed, and that only added to his distress of having the wind knocked out of him.
He was not completely stunned, so I did not take immediate advantage of his problem. Besides, I wanted to put on a show for the audience. I backed off, and there was a great cheer sent up when the blood was spotted. The referee stopped the combat long enough to examine the wounds to make sure that they were not enough to end the contest. Satisfied, he signaled for us to continue. I was delighted to see that my opponent was really pissed at me.
He now bore in with his net, only using the trident to keep me out of reach. Hector had told me to expect this, so I was not caught by surprise. Suddenly, Invictus cast his net and the edge landed on my helmet. He jerked the net, trying to pull me off balance, and one of the gimcracks on my helmet flew off. He was surprised, but looked like he figured that accidents do happen, so he ignored the situation.
He did offer me an opportunity to work on his legs, so I dropped the edge of my shield across his thigh just above the knee. This had to be very painful, and he staggered around with a bad limp for the rest of the match. Ah, that was the advantage that I needed. The Retiarius had to have both legs in good working order to fight his kind of fight, so I was one up on him very early in the contest.
Now I was no longer worried about whether or not I was going to win. I was much more concerned about whether or not I was going to have to kill Invictus to accomplish that. I hoped not, but I was determined to win.
I had to let Invictus lead the match, since I was constantly in danger from his net. Thus, I had to let him cast the net and look for an opportunity to attack him while he was off balance. We had danced around each other for nearly 10 minutes with neither one of us getting much more than a few scratches. We were sufficiently entertaining that we heard nothing but cheers from the crowd, but the referee was starting to urge us to be more aggressive.
Finally, my chance came. In the process of casting the net, Invictus got it entangled on the shield boss. While he was still off balance from the cast, I jerked the net out of his hand by pulling my shield back. I now had the net out of his hands, but he still had that damned trident that he was free to use with both hands, now.
Hastily, I used my sword to chop away the net and made it just in time to block a jab with the trident. My shield knocked the trident aside, but Invictus' followthrough pushed the tip of a tine into the muscle of my thigh. Damn! That hurt like hell, and I fell to the ground. Invictus was really pissed at me, I guess, because the jerked the tine from my leg and raised the trident to stab me in the chest.
Thank God I saw what he was doing! I pulled my shield over my body, and the trident scraped over its surface and stabbed into the ground. Without thought, as in a kind of reflex movement, I swept my sword up the shaft of the trident and hit Invictus with the blade. That was enough to lop off two of his fingers. Invictus screamed in pain and dropped his trident in surprise.
I rolled to my feet, but I could not stand. The pain in my leg just would not let it support my weight. I dropped to my knee on that side, and held my sword and shield in the best defensive stance that I could manage. It turned out that I had no worry from Invictus. He was trying to stop the flow of blood and was not paying any attention to me.
Naturally, the referee was watching us both very closely. He reacted immediately to stop the match and to call for first aid. Invictus was treated first, since he was the most severely injured; however, he was able to walk to the aid station. On the other hand, I simply could not stand. A litter was brought out, and I was carried to the surgery.
The quack who examined me agreed with my assessment. The only real problem with me was the pain from the wound. It was not really serious, just painful as hell. All I needed was about a week of bed rest, and the wound would disappear without further damage.
Invictus was in a lot worse shape, though, with the loss of those two fingers. Actually, once the wounds healed, he would probably be able to return to the arena. The problem was with his right hand, and the left hand was the one which handled the net. Well, only time would tell how that worked out. I was the one I was concerned about, but my wound would heal without trouble if I could keep the "doctors" away from it.
I was carried to my cell to wait for my escort to show up. Fiona was there when I got delivered to my cell. She was able to contain herself and did nothing to aggravate my pain. That woman never ceased to surprise me with the way she was so able to take care of my needs. I did get an abbreviated massage with the masseuse avoiding contact with my wounded thigh. She did such a good job that none of my muscles tightened up.
A pallet on a litter was arranged for me after my Praetorian Guard escort showed up. I think my stock went up in their eyes now that I had been wounded. They had previously treated me with all the courtesy I thought I deserved, but now they seemed to be genuinely concerned about my comfort and safety. Up until now, I was just another actor on stage, but now I was a wounded veteran, and that made a real difference to them.
I was delivered to my apartment in the palace, and the trainer came to check on me. He examined the wound and pronounced me to be in excellent shape, everything considered. I was told to stay off it until it didn't hurt to walk. Talk about an unnecessary admonition!
Fiona collected a supper for us. She helped me to use the chamber pot and then we went to bed. There was no celebration for me on this night, and my leg hurt too much even for sex. I was suffering some pain, but not so much that I couldn't sleep. I slept late the next day and spent as much time asleep as I could for the next six days. That was the only way I could fight the boredom. Fiona did spend as much time as possible with me, but I was just not the type to stay in bed without getting the heebie-jeebies. I really appreciated Fiona's patience, especially on days five and six, and I told her so.
It was a tremendous relief to hobble around with a staff to lean on. My thigh still hurt a little bit, but the pain was not as great as what I felt from lying in bed. I recovered rapidly, and I was trotting around the training rink within a few days. It was going to be a few weeks before I was completely recovered. Apparently, I had been wounded more seriously than I had realized.
My greatest concern had been what Commodus thought about me. It seemed that I had nothing to worry about on that score. I received another purse of 25 Denarii as a tip for my performance. The referee had called the contest a tie, so I got off, but I couldn't help wondering how many more of those I could do before I encountered problems with the Emperor.
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A Few Notes on Starting A Second Career By Juliette Lima Based on situations from "Girls R Us" The problem with aging is it's so gradual you never notice it happening, until it's already happened. After fifty-five years of living, I still felt fine, just places that I wanted flexible were now a little stiff, and the one thing I wanted stiff, seemed to somehow always defy wishes and stay flexible. Into this mix of emotions and frailties came the inventive genius of the wonderful folks...
A Slight Career Hiccup By Alice Dee Catullus 97 "It's just like taking a shit," he said. Suddenly I had a whole new bunch of really rather revolting images to go with his cheeky gap toothed grin and the homespun threadbare charm of his clothes. Now I had to be able to see him straining away at a big crap while I looked at him standing there in front of me bobbing up and down in his nervousness as he smiled vacuously at me. This was pretty bad. I mean. He was bad enough even if...
MY NEW CAREER - PART 1 Nervously, I checked my watch, for what seemed the fiftieth time since arriving. And for the fiftieth straight time, it was still too early to go in. In fact I could swear the hands hadn't moved. Resisting the urge to shake the offending timepiece, I stared up again at the gleaming office tower I was waiting to enter. It seemed rather too expensive a location for a training college, but I had rechecked the address several times. Pulling the letter from my...
MY NEW CAREER - PART 4 "That's it doll, go a little further," the voice behind me urged. I straightened briefly, then bent forward again, keeping my legs straight and reaching down as far as I could go. To my surprise, I felt my fingers touch the floor - no mean feat, given the size of the heels I had on. All that flexibility training was clearly paying off ... Careful not to overbalance, I ran my hands lightly over the back of my fishnet- clad legs, then brought them back down to grab...
MY NEW CAREER - PART 5 Spent, streaked with sweat and still amazed, naked except for the ubiquitous stockings, I walked on unsteady legs to the bathroom, closed the door and leant back against it, trying to collect my scattered thoughts. I had faced a lot of challenges in the past couple of months. The ruthless feminisation that had been imposed on me, to the point where I was finding it hard to remember what it was like to walk or talk like a man, let alone look like one. Being...
MY NEW CAREER - PART 10 As I hobbled to the waiting car outside Antony's mansion, clad once again in the school uniform in which I had arrived, my gait was stiffer and noticeably more bow-legged than it had been some 18 hours earlier. But if the driver noticed, he didn't make any comment - for which I was grateful. Sore, tired and not a little ashamed of myself, I sank gratefully into the plush leather that lined the limousine's interior. As the car pulled away I realised I was...