It would be a galactic understatement to say that the last twenty hours had been eventful for Allie Benson and Jeff Soros. They had abruptly gone from the comfort and routine of a long space voyage to being abducted by an ancient alien artificial intelligence (AI), and forcibly transformed into monstrous alien hybrids.
Moreover, they had swapped genders. Allie was now a hybrid male, and Jeff a hybrid female. To top it all off, the two were being driven to mate to produce a workforce of slaves that would facilitate the rebirth of the Imperium civilization--the once mighty rulers of this galaxy.
Yeah, it had been a long day for them. Oh, and while having sex with Jeff, they shared an "alien orgasm" that had sent them into a realm of pure imagination. A sort of shared virtual reality, which was no longer bounded by the physical world, but had all the same sensations of the real world.
I suddenly found myself standing over a decapitated lion, holding its head in one hand, and a blood-soaked sword in the other. Once again, I was in a male's body, but this time it was human. I was now an extremely well-muscled man, clothed in archaic body armor, and covered with battle scars.
I looked up to see two men in a pitched battle just a few meters away. One was holding a trident and net, the other, two swords. The spear wielder was attempting to snare the swordsman with the net, and then impale him with the trident. However, swordsman expertly pared his attacker's advances.
The men wore body armor too. The swordsman had a crude metal helmet, with chain strap. His taller opponent had no head protection.
I heard a crowd roar, and then I realized I was standing on the sands of a giant colosseum, crammed with spectators. I nearly collapsed, but with great effort, I managed to focus and stay upright.
The alien AI had warned me about the effects of the alien orgasm. Apparently, it sends sexual partners into a shared imaginary world, of their own making. The AI had said that this alternate reality would take the form of their deepest desires.
I knew Jeff that was a history buff, and particularly fascination with the Roman Empire. So, I concluded that this must be a Roman colosseum. From what I could recall about this period, it was one of the most brutal in human history. Gladiators often fought to the death, and were usually slaves trained from childhood to compete in the arena for the enrichment and glory of their masters.
Why would our joint imaginations conjure up such a savage bloodthirsty reality for us? I knew that the only way to find out was to play out this scenario. More importantly, if I could find Jeff, this might be the one opportunity we had to plot an escape, without the alien AI eavesdropping on us. In the physical world, the AI constantly monitored our thoughts; however, we might be shielded from it here.
As a starship captain in the Collective, I had undergone the standard training in hand-to-hand combat, which included becoming proficient with barbaric weapons, such as swords. My instructor had said that I was a nature with a broadsword, but I was nowhere near good enough to win against an experienced gladiator. So, I began looking for a way to exit the arena.
As I was examining the walls of the stadium, I heard an even louder roar from the crowd, and looked back at the two gladiators. The swordsman had just bested his opponent, and was standing over him. Both men stared at a grandly robed man sitting on a raised dais. The crowd grew suddenly quiet, as the official stood, held his hand out, and then pointed his thumb down.
Without hesitation, the winning gladiator plunged his sword into his kneeling opponent's throat, all the way down to the hilt. Blood gushed up, covering the victor's face. The crowd went wild, apparently chanting his name, "Flamma, Flamma, Flamma!"
He held his sword high in the air, turning first toward the robbed man, then to each side of the colosseum. The audience continued shouting his name, louder and louder. Once the cheering had subsided, he wiped the dirt and blood from his face, and then turned his attention toward me.
Our eyes locked, and he grinned, cruelly. Clearly, I had just lost any chance of escaping unnoticed. As the gladiator covered the ground between us, I dropped the lion's head, assumed the fencing stance that I had practiced many years ago. When he got close enough, I planned ono thrusting my sword at his chest. However, my body shifted position, seemingly on its own, and I found myself quickly running toward my opponent.
Just a meter from him, I threw my sword at him, which he easily knocked away. While he was occupied with it, I skillfully somersaulted, and picked up the trident from his previous opponent, and then drove it up into his head, just under his helmet's chin strap. His eyes bulged out, as he choked to on his own blood, falling to the ground, uselessly clutching at the hilt his the trident.
I was stunned by what had just happened, and left wondering what had come over me. Perhaps some type of muscle-memory had taken over control of my body? Whatever the reason, I was thankful to be alive. Although I was fairly certain that death here wasn't permanent, dying would have likely ruined my plan to contact Jeff within this thought realm.
As I got to my feet, I heard the crowd roar, and chant, "Hermes, Hermes, Hermes!" Not knowing what else to do, I mimicked my fallen opponent. After retrieving my sword, I raised it first to the official, then to the four side of the stadium. I bent over, wiped my sword on the fallen man's loincloth, and sheathed it.
That's when I noticed a short flabby man frantically waving at me. I briskly walked over to him, while the crowd nonstop chanted my name. I must admit, I found the sound exhilarating. Despite having just killed a man, it felt great to be the object of such unbridled adulation.
Once I reached the chubby man dressed in white robes, I was disarmed, and escorted into a tunnel by two soldiers, wearing long red capes. The pudgy man guided me along, talking the whole way.
Eventually, we made our way to the cells beneath the colosseum. The area was dark and smelled of blood and sweat. The man prattled endlessly about my amazing win, and how it would bring us greater glory and wealth. It became abundantly clear that he was my owner.
As I walked by the other gladiators, some displayed open hatred for me, a few jealously; however, most just seemed to fear me. I finally arrived at my cell. It appeared modestly better than the other cells around it, possibly indicating my status as champion.
"Hermes, you were spectacular today! But I expected nothing less. You have mastered more fighting styles than any other gladiator in Roman history, and you have become proficient with every known weapon. I leave you now, but you will not be alone. I have arranged a special gift for you!" the fat man said, with a toothy leering smile.
He patted me on the back once more, and left my cell. A guard locked the door, and then left too. I walked over to a small straw bed and plopped down, bone weary. I picked up a metal plate next to the bed, and dumped the fruit off it, so I could use the shiny surface to examine my face.
I looked about 25 years old, heavily bearded, with broad shoulders, short black hair, and a rugged jaw. My forehead and cheeks were marked with scares from previous battles, as was the rest of my body. Obviously, I had been training and fighting most of my life.
I found a bucket of water, and cleaned off the blood and dirt from my face and hands. Then, I laid back down on my bed. Just as I closed my eyes, I heard the lock of my cell door turn. I glanced up to see one of the guards open the door. Another guard shoved a small woman onto the stone floor. She fell just short of my bed. The door slammed closed, and locked. I heard the guards' guttural laughs, as they walked away.
The woman on the floor raised herself up, slowly. She had long black hair, black eyes, and full large breasts. She was covered in dirt, bared footed, and partially clothed in rags that might have once been a dress.
I was mildly surprised she wasn't crying. Her jaw was set. She looked determined, despite her circumstances. I stood up, and offered her a hand. She spat at me.
"Come now, I just want to help you," I said, softly.
"I have had just about as much help as I can stand today!" she shouted, eyes glowing with hate.
"I won't touch you, I promise. In fact, you can eat my food, and sleep alone on my bed, if you like. All I ask is for some information," I said.
"What kind of information?" she said, glaring at me.
"I am looking for a friend here. Have you heard the name, Jeff Soros?" I inquired.
Her eyes suddenly went wide in surprise. She jumped up, and firmly hugged me.
"Allie, it's me, Jeff!" she practically screamed in relief.
I pulled her back, and studied her face. I broke out laughing, as I hugged her back. What a relief to have found Jeff so quickly! Then, it dawned on me that we had switched genders, even in our shared dream.
"It I am happier as a man, and you a woman," I said, with a chuckle.
"I am not so sure. You won't believe the way I have been treated! To think that I once considered the Roman Empire enthralling. It's horrible, especially for women!" Jeff said, looking sad for the first time.
"My introduction to our shared realm wasn't what I expected either," I said, pulling Jeff's small supple female form close to me.
Feeling the heat of her large breasts pressed against my well-muscled chest, caused my cock to stiffen under my loincloth. I gently kissed her on the lips, and then moved away, so as not to give into my growing desire for Jeff. I didn't know how much time we had here, so I didn't want to waste a moment with self-indulgences.
