The duel was over. Centrus had won. He sheathed his sword and strode up to the slave bound to a pole. Behind him, the healers were tending to his opponent left bleeding in the ring on the floor. Centrus still wondered if not killing that asshole was the right thing to do, considering he’d bribed a judge and robbed Centrus out of what was rightfully his – but at least now people thought he himself was merciful. And a lot of people had been there. Not everyday a warrior challenges another over the ownership of a slave. Usually it’s over a woman of high standing or something. Centrus the Merciful, Challenger of Slaves, had a certain ring to it anyhow.

Centrus paused in front of his new property and lifted the trembling boy’s chin with his thumb. “Don’t panic, little one. You’re safe now, because you are mine. I won’t neuter you, which is illegal anyway. I won’t whip you. I won’t starve you. When I sheath my cock in you, it won’t cause you any pain. Only the sweetest pleasure. You should be happy little one, as you have been spared from cruelty.”
The slave began to weep and Centrus clucked. He ordered the naked boy taken down so he could carry him back to his chariot. It was time to take home his prize and clean him up and see what was under all of that dirt.

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Captions are fictional.