It was Christmas time, during the short holidays, with snow lying thick on the ground and a spell of that wonderfully crisp and clear weather now so seldom enjoyed.

I was recently divorced but other than the inevitable heavy guilt and remorse I was pretty well over it. It had taken two years and during that time the last vestiges of love were lost and I had come to terms with things as they now were.

Part of my new life was renting a small cottage about twenty five miles from the city. It stood, remote in its own overgrown grounds, not far from a very small village. It just so happened that another employee of the company I worked for had bought a house in the village and when he and his wife chose to have a house warming come Christmas party I was invited along. To be honest I didn't really want to go but felt it would be churlish of me to avoid it. I resolved to go for an hour or so, not to drink over the limit, and be back home by early afternoon so I could enjoy my new found solitude and privacy.

The weather dictated that common sense prevail regarding dress so I turned up at the door, card and present in hand, in jeans, snow boots, pullover, scarf and heavy jacket. Not exactly stunning!

It was a good party, the house was warm, the conversation cheerful and amusing, the food laid out scrumptious. As usual I broke all my own rules and ate and drank far too much. By early afternoon I was having a great time, my confidence and bonhomie aided and abetted by the delicious spiced wine my host kept topping my glass up with. Not that I was complaining.

I drifted over to a small group of men, most of whom I recognised from work, standing in the corner having what looked like an interesting conversation. Among them was one of the directors, a man I had met and found strangely attractive even though he was old enough to be my father, but not a man I knew well or anything other than professionally. They welcomed me into their circle and the chat continued. I am never sure how these things happen but the conversation turned and twisted until eventually one of the men, in that kind of shocked and disgusted manner so many use, brought up the fact that women had been mated with animals in the Roman Arena. I confess I was interested and even became aroused, then out of my mouth popped a question that had always bothered me.

'Yes, but how did they train the animals to perform publicly? That's what I have always wondered.'

There was one of those awkward silences and I wished the ground would open up and swallow me there and then. My father had always said I should take care to put my brain into gear before I let the clutch off on my mouth, but I never listened! It dawned on me that not only had I just let slip that I was interested in the topic but also that I was familiar with it and had asked myself this self same question before. That I had indeed thought about it all.

Oops! I could have died with embarrassment.

A couple of the men wandered off to refill glasses, using it as an excuse to avoid the embarrassment or the association. A couple simply excused themselves saying they had to go and chat with whoever. Finally there was just the director and me. He appeared amused which only made things worse. Taking my glass without asking he went and refilled it, returning to where I still stood close to the fire like some frozen idiot. He toasted me and wished me a Merry Christmas and I could see the twinkle of amused sympathy in his eyes.

He then made a couple of funny but accurate comments about those who had just deserted us and I felt myself warming to him. At least he understood my self inflicted embarrassment and predicament. Finally, after a little small talk which helped put me at ease, he told me, in rather hushed and secretive voice, that he could answer my question .. if I were still interested?

I was, but had to steel myself to admit to it. Our eyes met and something passed between us, an understanding of sorts I think. He exuded warmth and genuineness, even understanding, and my confidence was boosted. Somehow or the other I felt safe furthering my confession with this man, either that or it was the alcohol that allowed me! I told him I was still interested, adding as though in my defence that curiosity wasn't a crime. He smiled, bent his head so his lips were close to my ear, his breath warm on my neck.

'They used old prostitutes. Women who no one cared about, women who were dispensable.

It had to be that way, especially with the larger animals.'

I was surprised but not because of the answer, it was pretty obvious when you thought about it. I was surprised that he should share this information with me. By doing so he was revealing his own interest. He too had asked the question, and he had found the answer.

What's more he understood my interest and was bold enough to share his knowledge with me. I was not only surprised, I was also aroused. The wine always helps that along too. I was aroused by the answer to my question, the intimacy of our conversation in such a public situation, and by his close proximity and his boldness in sharing, and by the secrecy demanded, shared and understood secrecy. It was as though something intimate had taken place between us and I felt my nipples harden and my lower belly flush with heat. I think the biggest turn on was the obvious fact he wanted to share this information. When I looked up at him again I could read he wanted a reaction. I was emboldened by his own behaviour and aroused enough to give one, using the same low and intimate tones he had employed.

'Yes, I suppose it's obvious when you think about it. They must have gone through an awful lot of them though? Surely?'

'Oh yes, I would imagine you're right,' he replied and I could hear the enthusiasm in his hissed words, this only exciting me further. 'Masses of them I suppose, but then again life came pretty cheap in those times. There must have been plenty of broken old hags, slaves no longer of use but just another mouth to feed, even slaves too ugly or old to be of interest.'

I let his words sink in, finding I was even more aroused by this new information as well as the fact he had shared it with me and appeared to enjoy sharing it. Not only was I aroused, I was also encouraged.

'They must have had to restrain them, surely?' I whispered up at him, noting how his eyes narrowed at this suggestion and realising he was probably as aroused by our intimate and very revealing exchange as I was. 'I mean no woman in her right mind would submit herself to something like, say a horse, ... would they?'

He looked me steadily in the eyes for a second as though gauging as to what to say next, judging me perhaps. I returned his gaze steadily, awaiting his response.

'They used larger animals than that my dear.' He replied.

My lower belly turned liquid and I could feel the heat on my neck, sure sign of my arousal. I took a sip of my fresh drink to cover my reaction, then looked up at him once more.

'Honestly?' I asked, tilting my head as though in disbelief, encouraging, possibly even challenging him to expand which is what I wanted him to do. I suspect he realised this was part of my reason for questioning because a slight smile creased his eyes.

'Oh yes my dear, much larger animals!' He paused for a second as though to allow this new snippet to sink in fully. I was enjoying myself by this time, enjoying my arousal, the intimacy of this conversation which was telling us so much about one another, and I was emboldened by the alcohol fizzing in my blood. I raised an eyebrow in enquiry and his eyes creased in a knowing smile once more.

'Yes ... mature bulls, rhinoceros, giraffe. I believe they even experimented with camels and elephants!'

I felt my eyes widen of their own volition. I was both gob smacked and excited by this latest revelation and found my mind instantly trying to imagine what a rhinoceros penis looked like, trying to guess the colour and texture of the skin, its size. I probably gulped, another involuntary reaction, my neck and cheeks flushing as the blood rushed to them, a reaction to my arousal and tinged with a little embarrassment. I took another sip and found I was licking my lips as though they were still dry. I wanted this to continue, but I wanted him to do the talking.

'Phew!' I breathed through pursed lips with genuine amazement. 'That's .. well, it's ... pretty amazing! But how did they manage to train animals like that?' The question was out without me really thinking about it, once more just coming out with what was in my head at the time, but this time I hardly felt any embarrassment and could see by his face he too was aroused by my question. He leant close once more, his eyes drifting around the room as though to check we were not being observed or approached. I thrilled to this moment of secrecy, and to what I was about learn.

'Well my dear, information-accurate information-is vague, but from what I have read I believe they would have paid the prostitutes well, encouraging them to return for future sessions. The animal would have been restrained in some way with ropes and quite possibly wooden bars, the woman may have been enclosed in a protective cage to prevent damage from weight or flailing hooves, penetration would have been kept to a minimum-or at least an acceptable length-until the animal was familiar with the routine, knew how and when to mount and could penetrate without assistance.'

He paused and when I looked up at him with expectation he was obviously assessing me for reaction.

'Go on.' I encouraged, slitting my eyes wickedly as much through pleasure as to encourage him and convey my enthusiasm. He cleared his throat and bent his head towards my own once more. I turned my ear towards his lips so as to catch his every word.

'The animals would have been trained from a very young age, from as soon as they became sexually mature, and they would never have been allowed contact with females of their own species. Due to this they would quickly become conditioned to seeing women as sexual partners, be familiar with the adopted pose and rapidly learn how to mount and penetrate.

Once they had reached this stage then I can only guess that the woman herself would be restrained while all protective and restraining devices were removed from the animal giving it free and unrestricted access to her.'

'Yes?' I encouraged without looking up, wanting more.

He moved closer, his body now shielding me from the rest of the room.

'Of course the women concerned would suffer severely when this happened .. quite probably fatally ..but then they would have served their use. After that the animal would simply be allowed access to fresh women on a regular basis until it was considered fully familiar with the routine and could be expected to perform reliably in the arena, and in front of a loudly jeering crowd.'

My mind was in turmoil, full of the images his words had painted. I moved back and leant gently against the wall as though to steady myself. I knew the arousal I was feeling would be visible in my face, it was too strong to conceal any longer, but somehow I no longer cared. I felt safe revealing my arousal to this man, even wanted him to see it and recognise it. I took a long pull on my drink, wishing desperately I could have a ciggie though I was sure my hands would be shaking when I tried to light it. When I looked up at him I could see concern in his face as he tried to figure out if I was disgusted or excited by what he had just shared with me. My face must have betrayed me as expected because no sooner had our eyes met than I saw his concern relax to be replaced by relief tinged with his own arousal.

He stepped closer, again shielding me from the rest of the room.

'Are you ok with this?' he asked gently. It was another way of asking if our conversation was turning me on I suppose, least that's how I read it at the time, but I was still grateful of his consideration. I found I wanted to express my enthusiasm with more than just a simple 'yes'. I nodded and looked up at him, choosing my words carefully.

'I suppose then .. that with the later women, once the animal was familiar and practised .. they wouldn't have used subterfuge to persuade the woman into place but merely forced her into the pen or mini arena or whatever so her reactions would be more akin to the reaction the animal would experience in the reality of the arena....?'

He smiled knowingly down at me and again I felt that rush of mutual understanding, that confidence enveloping me.

'Yes, you're right of course though I don't think I had really thought about it that way before. If the victims in the arena were going to run and struggle then the animals would have to be familiar with these situations and know how to act accordingly, otherwise the show would be a disaster.'

'Unless of course they tied them down or something so that the animals didn't have to pursue, so they'd be used to just mounting ....?'

His eyebrows raised in thought and he took a sip from his glass. I found myself almost smiling with amusement even through my arousal. He was pondering what the most likely scenario would be and I could imagine him making a mental note 'must do some more research and inform young Stella of my findings' like some University professor teaching 'bestial rape 101'!

There was a bit of a silence between us and I desperately searched for something to fill it, not wanting the conversation to flag, at least not yet. I was buzzing inside and it wasn't just the alcohol.

'It must have been quite a spectacle.' I offered quietly.

He looked down at me, his mind returning to where we had been. Our eyes met and once more that moment of complete understanding seemed to pass between us.

'It was even worse with the big cats ....' He whispered, then paused.

'Go on.' I whispered and dipped my head offering my ear.

'With the big cats, especially the lions which are familiar with hunting in groups, they would often encourage the animals to kill and devour their victims after copulating with them ... '

My heart hammered in my chest so loudly now I was sure others could hear it. I looked up at him and let my breath escape in a loud hiss ....

'Phew ... that's disgusting.' I whispered up at him, raising my eyebrows to convey my interest. 'Tell me more?'

He smiled, eyes slitted in understanding, bowing his lips to my proffered ear once again. When he spoke his voice had dropped another octave and I could tell he was relishing the conversation as much as I was.

'In order to condition the animals to this kind of behaviour they had to begin training them from very young, I suppose in order to overrule their natural instincts. They had to be conditioned to associating sexual intercourse with humans-with death and devouring.'

Again I nodded, almost afraid to raise my head, eager for him to continue.

'Yes? Keep talking.' I hissed, no longer worried about trying to conceal the excitement from my voice. His words came slow and savoured now, drawing each one out carefully, ensuring I could hear and understand.

'They would begin training the males when they were still cubs, more or less as soon as they began showing signs of sexual awareness, began enacting sexual roles ... as soon as they showed signs of achieving erection.'

I looked up at him and sipped from my drink with as much control as I could muster. Our eyes locked and something ... understanding? .. passed between us. I was flying inside, inside both my body and my head. I knew he knew, just as he knew I knew. It was like being weightless.

'The cubs must have been very young then?' I whispered, my eyes holding his.

'Oh yes, barely half grown themselves, just teenagers really I suppose. But that in itself presented a problem.'

'Oh?' I said taking another nervous sip.

His eyes flicked around the room as though once more checking we had privacy.

'Yes. You see because they were so young, so inexperienced, so unsure of themselves but still had to be trained at that age, there was a risk they could be easily put off, discouraged or even frightened if things didn't go their way.'

I nodded my understanding, letting him see I was listening to his every word, paying attention, wanting him to explain.

'It's the same when a mother big cat teaches her cubs how to hunt. To begin with she will only return to the den with something that is smaller than them and already injured and weakened from the hunt. Something that cannot defend itself against them, something so weak and vulnerable it cannot cause them harm as they toy with it. In this way the cubs are not at risk and have little opposition when they play with it, finally kill it, this allowing them to build confidence as well as experience.'

I wasn't sure where this was taking us but was still hugely aroused and intrigued. I knew he was getting to the point but was clearly cautious about doing so. I raised an eyebrow and looked at him quizzically.

'Go on, I am listening.' I whispered.

'Well, in order for the cubs to build experience and confidence their victims had to be smaller and weaker than they were ....'

Like a light bulb going on in my head I suddenly realised where this was going, what he was trying to tell me. I was truly gob smacked but at the same time almost overwhelmingly aroused. I knew the answer now, but I wanted him to say it. I wanted him to have the courage. Our eyes locked once more and held each others gaze.

'Don't stop. Tell me.' I hissed excitedly.

'They had to use children with the lion cubs. That's how they trained them. That's how they trained all the big cats.'

In the moments silence after his statement I could see the concern in his eyes as they searched my own, worried he may have gone too far, may have disgusted me. I was hugely, almost uncontrollably, aroused, but suddenly I seemed to rise above it all the way I sometimes can, as though I am hovering over my own body rather than within it, that I can control it as though by remote control. Without taking my eyes from his own I raised my glass and sipped from it, then licked my lips slowly and lasciviously trying to leave him in no doubt as to my interest and arousal, clearly displaying it for him. His eyes brightened and I could sense his relief. Encouraged I suggested in low and intimate tones...

'The children must have been very small, I mean very, very small ... very young ... when you think about the size of a lion cub....'

Our eyes were locked and once more I felt and saw understanding pass between us. My brain fizzled with excitement and alcohol.

'Yes Stella,' he replied, using my name for the first time ever, adding a delicious touch of intimacy. 'They must have been tiny to begin with, smaller than the cubs themselves ...'

I held his eyes with my own, looking from one to the other, trying to convey my excitement and more importantly my lack of fear, even willingness, to take this further.

'Prepubescent probably?' I whispered, noticing how he suddenly froze at my words, his eyes widening just that fraction.

'Yes Stella, I suspect you may be right. Prepubescent.'

I took a slow sip of my drink, watching his eyes over the rim of my glass all the while. The tension was exquisite. Slowly I lowered my glass.

'Why John!' I said low and slow, my eyes crinkled into the beginning of a smile, 'that's disgusting-just so depraved!' I whispered up at him, using his name for the first time to convey my own feelings of intimacy.

His eyes slitted wickedly in understanding.

'Yes Stella, you are right. It's utterly depraved and disgusting.'

That was it I think. The real moment of baring ourselves to one another. Both of us openly stating that the acts we discussed were in fact vile, depraved and disgusting, while at the same time recognising in each other the pleasure and excitement derived from discussing such acts, the fact they were vile, depraved and disgusting only heightening our pleasure in them. For a moment we smiled at one another as though sealing our bargain.

My nipples were aching painfully, that really uncomfortable feeling I sometimes get, and I knew I was wet, very wet. I worried for a moment about the front of my jeans staining but then thought it unlikely. I would have to go to the bathroom soon and wipe up just in case but I didn't want to go just yet, especially not now.

Leaning towards him I tilted my head upwards. He bent a little closer realising I had another question. In low and distinctly salacious tones now I whispered ..

'Just little girls? Or did they use both little girls and little boys?' stressing the word 'little' as much for my own pleasure as for his.

The last vestiges of concern fell from his face like thawing snow from fir branch. His eyes slitted with an almost wicked delight and I felt my own reflecting his look. For a moment we actually smiled, smiled knowingly at one another. There was nothing to hide now. He leant over me, closer than before and I could feel the heat of his breath on my neck, this only bringing me close to loosing control once again and forcing me to remain floating above my own body.

'They used both Stella. Both little girls, and little boys. They had to. The animals had to be familiar with both sexes, be able to recognise them and know how to mount and penetrate them. Often both sexes would be used in the arena so the animals had to be familiar with them ....'

'Phew' I breathed out, loud enough so I was sure he would hear. 'Go on.'

'There would also have been a need to use both simply because of the numbers they would go through, the fatalities must have been high, this being the intended outcome in the arena and what the animals were being specifically trained to do. And I suppose if the animal was familiar with little boys but ended up mounting a female in the arena it wouldn't matter, in fact anal rape may have been more pleasing to the crowds ... so little boys would probably have been the main victims during training-if for no other reason than the fact little girls were also in very high demand for other purposes ....'

His words hung in the warm air between us, it was as though no one else in the room existed at that very moment in time. I froze for a moment as the impact of what he had just said-what he was suggesting-sunk in, then looked him straight in the eye, my own slitted wickedly with undisguised excitement...

'Phew ...' I breathed out, barely maintaining control. At that moment we recognised the other fully and openly, nothing disguised, nothing left to hide.

I was hugely aroused, hugely. It wasn't just what we were talking about, it was the fact we were talking about it, and talking openly with recognised and undisguised mutual pleasure.

For years I had hidden such thoughts deep, keeping them purely to myself, sharing them with no one else and believing no one else could ever entertain such thoughts let alone enjoy them in the way I did. I even began to consider myself weird, unusual, even sick. And now, here I was, at a Christmas party in a room full of others, openly sharing those thoughts and curiosities with a man who without doubt was deriving the same pleasure from our conversation as I was. A man who shared the same thoughts, interests, excitements and curiosities as I did. It all seemed unbelievable, almost surreal, and I had to mentally pinch myself to make sure I wasn't imagining it all. My arousal surged with an intensity that made me physically shudder.

I found I desperately wanted him to elaborate on his last statement, that I wanted to know more, know his thoughts, know all the sordid details. The feelings of frustration due to our restrictive situation hit me quite hard then. Finally I dropped my eyes, breathed again and took a gulp from my drink only to come up with an empty glass. I think he was as relieved as I was with the excuse this gave us to pause. I mean where was this going? Where could it go under the circumstances? What's more I desperately needed to pee all of a sudden, and I needed fresh air and the chance to clear my head as well.

He took my glass and the moment he turned towards the drinks table I made my way through the couples blocking the living room door and found the downstairs bathroom. Fortunately it was vacant and with the door locked behind me I dropped my jeans and pee'd, so tempted to rub myself off there and then it was ridiculous. After washing up and splashing my face with the ice cold water I felt a little more in control and after a quick tidy up made my way back through to the living room.

He was chatting with a young couple when I entered and I felt genuine delight when I saw him surveying the doorway, his face lighting up with relief when his eyes caught my own. He excused himself and came over to where we had stood before. I took my drink gratefully and knocked back a large slug of it, wondering how I was ever going to drive home, wondering what we should say now.

He grinned down at me and I found myself smiling back. The moment was past and probably just as well, but we both still knew of it, could not deny it had happened.

'It's at times like this I wish I had never packed in smoking.' He smiled.

'It's at times like this I wish our bloody host wasn't so anti-smoking so I could light up in here!' I added.

Just then our hostess approached and after chatting momentarily apologised and said she would have to whisk John away as there were some late arrivals she wanted him to meet, at the same time giving me a look that said I had been hogging the star guest anyway.

I was about to reassure her and suggest it was time I left anyway when John spoke up and said he would be over to join them in a moment, more or less suggesting she disappear and allow us to finish our conversation. She backed off appropriately, sending daggers in my direction. John turned to me, face warm but serious, and when our hostess was out of earshot he apologised for being in demand, adding it came with the territory and rolling his eyes theatrically as he did so. His face became serious once more and he bent over me, his voice low and personal once again.

'I simply want to tell you how much I enjoyed our conversation, enjoyed it more than I can express. I found it stimulating, highly stimulating.'

I warmed to his words, his open confession. Looking up at him, my own face serious to express my sincerity and understanding, I replied in equally low tones.

'Thank you John. I enjoyed it as well, enjoyed it hugely in fact, and I too found it highly stimulating ... liberating in a way I suppose.'

He nodded his head thoughtfully.

'Yes, liberating. That's an excellent description Stella. Very apt, I feel the same way, of that I assure you. Tell me, would you enjoy us picking up where we left off at some future date?'

My nipples suddenly ached once more at his words, my lower belly flushing with heat. An open invitation to indulge further. Liberation wasn't the word! This was incredible and I felt as though I were flying. I looked him in the eyes, seeing his concern, then I licked my lips slowly, lasciviously and intentionally, conveying my arousal and enthusiasm.

'Yes John, I would, very much so in fact. I would love us to take this further.'

His own arousal was obvious, I could see his excitement written all over his face. I suspect that had we not been in that party we might have fucked there and then. The sexual tension was delicious. He nodded his head in understanding.

'Then I will be in touch as soon as possible.' Was his reply.

We exchanged knowing smiles and I felt the bond strengthening. Taking my hand in his he raised it to his chin and brushed his lips gently over the top of my fingers, such a gesture of chivalry I almost giggled yet at the same time felt strangely delighted. He retained my hand in his warm grasp, squeezing my fingers gently, his eyes locked on mine.

'Before I go ... I have a book at home I think you may like to read. If nothing else it may help answer some of the questions you have in your head and also inform you a little more about the Roman Games. I think you may find it interesting. Would you like to borrow it for a while?'

I squeezed his fingers in response. This was unbelievable but oh so stimulating, so intimate, so liberating.

'Thank you. Yes, I will accept your offer.' I replied quietly.

'Good!' and he seemed genuinely pleased. 'I'll have it delivered to your office when we return to work next week .. discreetly of course!'

After he moved on I didn't remain much longer, taking only two or three minutes to make my way to the door and say my farewells as I went. Two or three times I looked in his direction and each time he was watching me. We would exchange a smile and turn our attentions back to those we were with. I slipped out quietly, wrapped warm against the frigid air, cleaned the ice and light fall of snow from my car windows as it warmed up, then set gingerly off towards home.

My car at the time was a very beat up old Subaru station wagon, wonderful in the snow and absolutely necessary for the long access track that led to my rented cottage. As soon as the heater began blowing hot air I opened the window and lit a ciggie, inhaling deeply and feeling the wonderfully calming effect of the smoke as it filled my lungs. I was still hugely aroused but at the same time totally gob smacked about what had just taken place. I could hardly believe it all and kept pinching myself to make sure I was actually awake. No sooner had I tossed the ciggie butt out the window and once more gratefully shut it against the blast of chill air than my hand sneaked down between my thighs and I masturbated myself as I bounced and juddered my way down the heavily rutted and potholed track, grateful for the depth of snow which helped soften our passage. I didn't masturbate over the content of the conversation but simply over the fact we had had it. It just all seemed so bizarre and dreamlike and I was hugely aroused by what had passed between us. I hit my orgasm just before the final turn up the hill towards the house and had to stop and allow myself to enjoy it fully rather than risk sliding off the road and into the ditch. Only when it had fully passed did I drive off again, laughing at myself as I did so.

In the house I quickly stoked up the fire as a hot bath ran. Then, with a fresh drink (I suddenly felt stone cold sober though it may have been the cold air) I slid beneath the layer of scented bubbles and immersed myself in the hot water, toying with myself as I ran over the conversation as though it were a tape in my head. I had several orgasms, many in fact and think I lost count after four, but again it wasn't just the content of the conversation which excited me, it was the simple fact we had actually had it, had enjoyed it, and knew the other was as stimulated by it as we ourselves were.

When I was finally done I bathed properly then dressed in comfortable old clothes, made a light snack and settled down to watch whatever Christmas movie they were showing, the last thing in my head being sex. By ten that night I was ready for bed but still too past it to masturbate again. That all changed in the middle of the night when I awoke already wet with my fingers wedged tight into my slit as I abused my clit mercilessly. This time I concentrated on what we had discussed, imagining all the obscene events in my head, imagining what they looked like in reality. My next one which followed very soon after involved me thinking only of John and the things he had revealed about himself to me that afternoon.

When I awoke late the next morning I was already beginning to seriously doubt any of it had really taken place, beginning to convince myself it was all a figment of my imagination. I mean you just don't go to nice conventional Christmas parties, meet a man you hardly know but who has the power to have you fired on short notice, and have that kind of conversation with him, do you?

Apparently you do.