6 Who’s boss?
Tiradates was right next to him, towering over Maciste down in the dust. Head reeling from the knee-sock to his jaw. He saw Tiradates raise a hand. Ordering another kicking? Whatever .. Maciste refused to flinch. He gritted his teeth and waited. Determined as hell. But no kick …. Tiradates raised his fingers.
Tiradates’s other hand counted off the fingers. Flicking down one.
Unexpected his foot lashed out. Metal cleats stomped down on Maciste’s thigh.
Tiradates’s harsh gaze did not flicker.
“This body. Muscle-head. My prisoner.”
He shrugged. Another finger was flicked down.
Arms tied down, all Maciste could do was to squirm away. The foot got him in the side.
He saw Tiradates was shaking his head. As if saying, How could this prick be so dim? Did this arsehole surrender? For a batch of whores? Really?
Maciste managed to wriggle away .. deflecting another kick in his side. But Tiradates was no slouch either. Quickly he re-adjusted his aim. His heel slammed down into Maciste’s gut. Crumpling the prisoner together. Gasping out.
“Got that too.”
Tiradates came in closer .. leaned forward. Bent over Maciste. His hand grabbed out and sized Maciste by the scalp. His grip twisted in the hair.
“Be in no doubt, arsehole .. Got that.“
Tiradates was dragging Maciste’s head up .. he’d lifted his shoulders off the earth .. pulling him up by his hair. Twisting pain out of his scalp.
“THAT .. your stinking life .. I already have that …..”
He twisted his hand in the scalp. Yanking the wincing face into his own. Gratified by the pain his grip squeezed out.
“Can end it too. Any time. Any fucking time.”
He kept Maciste pulled half-up .. held there by the twist in his scalp. There was no holding back Tiradates’s gloating. Fuelled by the power swelling in his loins. He had what he’d been fighting for. All these skirmishes, the ambushes. But stupidly this arsehole had sauntered in and offered himself up. For a bunch of goat-shagger-whores.
Naïve royal brat. What a royal arsehole!
“What you say, men?”
Still holding his prisoner half-up in the air by the pain twisted out of his scalp, Tiradates was seemingly addressing the soldiers standing around. But his eyes hadn’t left Maciste for one moment. Smirking down at him. Glorying in his royal prisoner’s discomfort .. sweaty, covered in dust.
“Our new guest here .. he thinks we should let the women go.”
Tiradates didn’t have to ask the question. The answers came uninvited.
Spoken by a soldier who was not letting free pussy out of his grip.
Tiradates himself hauled Maciste off the dirt. Dragged him by his screeching scalp to his knees. Then with a disdainful shove, he handed the prisoner over to his troops. Kept him humiliatingly on his knees. He stay stood right up-close. Forcing him to look up in respect. Kneeling in humiliation before his enemy, his new master.
Tiradates smirked down at this naïve prick who thought he could wander in and rescue the soldiers’ whores. Rob his men of pussy-on-demand.
“What kind of general I’d be? Depriving my men of that pleasure?”
His smirk said it all. Arsehole!
“Plunder. To the victor the spoils.”
Maciste snarled back. His temper was up. Angry as much at himself for getting into this. But not going to show he was intimidated. Or that he knew he had made a colossal mistake.
“Fuck you,” he growled. Trapped on his knees .. and refusing still to look beaten. Still standing up for himself.
“Now there’s a thought …..” he gloated.
His head indicated the soldiers around.
“Don’t give them ideas ……”
He was grinning. Smirking at Maciste’s vulnerability.
Maciste glowered. If they did that to him, he’d have them .. kill them .. every last one.
Tiradates mocked him back.
“Now .. THINK! If YOU were in my shoes, arsehole ……”
He was glorying over Maciste’s fix.
“ … if you had the chance ….? What would YOU enjoy doing to me?”
Maciste knew the answer. No hesitation. He’d squeezed every last bit of life out of this bastard.