MODERN ROMAN GAMES by Regis

Disclaimer: The following is fiction. The content of the story is not representative of the writer’s beliefs, opinions, or attitudes. This story is intended for adult entertainment only. The characters and events depicted in this work are fictional. The author does not condone or promote any unlawful activity such as is depicted in the story. By continuing to read this work you acknowledge that you are an adult who wishes to read works of fantasy and fiction for the purpose only of fantasy. All the characters in this story are adults. They may play different ages for the fictional character that they are depicting but they remain at all times adults.

Feature Writer: Regis

Feature Title: MODERN ROMAN GAMES

Published: 11.12.2023

Story Codes: Erotic Horror, Drug-use, Lesbian.

Modern Roman Games

CHAPTER ONE

Hirschfield, or Hirshydick as I affectionately called him because of his huge penis, got lucky when he met me. I was Homecoming Queen at College, graduated first in my class in American History, and was a competitive beach volleyball player at the State level. He was an impudent prick, but that was part of his charm.

I must confess, it was him being a prick that attracted me to him. That and what a marvelous fuck he gave. The broad head of his penis hit my cervix with each powerful thrust, driving my uterus back against my kidneys with such force that I felt fully invaded. A fuck from Hirshydick was one to remember, and I remembered them all.

The first time I saw him I was playing in a beach volleyball tournament, in the skimpy costume that attracted so many loyal fans. He came up behind me, snapped the strap on my bikini top so that it squeezed my sizeable breasts as they were forced into flesh balloons, and then stung my back like hell when he released it.

That was what he was like. A trickster. That same time on the beach court after the game, without even introducing himself, he pulled the most outrageous stunt. He paid a photographer to duck low in front of me, framing my groin, while he grasped the back of my bikini bottom and pulled it out hard.

He in fact pulled it so hard that the crotch bundled into my vagina and spread rather than covered the lips, and then he posted the image on both Facebook and Instagram! Thank God my face wasn’t in the close-up shot, as it went viral. It turns out there are millions of people out there who love to see a split cameltoe.

That’s what they call it when the crack of a woman’s cunt is gripped way too tight fabric so that the split shows. That’s what kind of shot Hirshydick’s photographer got for him, and that’s what got an incredible number of hits: my cunt! Unfortunately, my tell-tale faint birthmark high on my left inner thigh was evident.

Because of the birthmark showing, most of my friends who saw it knew immediately who it was, showing that outrageous cameltoe. To apologize he invited me to dinner, and we started dating. He took me home to his penthouse apartment that first date, and during foreplay he put on some of his ‘private’ videos.

A couple of them were of naked people actually performing sex for the cameras, one amateur shocker with a young woman probably in her mid-20s performing oral sex with her 11-year-old daughter while her boyfriend fucked the girl up her butthole, another featured a really pretty naked seven-year-old being raped, but most of them were more professional clips of naked women, in their teens or older, and they were mostly about fighting.

I couldn’t believe he was showing them to me, and what was most surprising was that I found them more sexually stimulating than I could believe. In my sorority at college, we would sometimes have fight nights with other sororities. We would always invite over the presidents of the fraternities, just to have a few men present.

Our sorority always took part, and it was the first year we had done it. After the first couple of times, we wrestled nude. I was pretty good at it and usually won. From then on, the girls insisted I be on our team, and I found it better if I shaved my groin clean, to make the basic fingers-in-the-cunt grip a tougher move. Girls would try anything to win.

Being a good fighter got me some dates with those presidents, and on a couple of occasions, two or three of us would go over to a fraternity to give them a demonstration of how exciting it could be to watch naked girls getting it on. It got me a few scratches and a couple of black eyes, but also a lot of nights in the sack with some amazing fuckers.

Less than a week after we started dating, Hirshydink took me on a free to Europe, paying for everything, and after visiting a couple of cities, we ended up in Rome. To show me how much he liked me, he bought me some extravagant gold spike-heeled shoes that were remarkable, as they made my legs look longer and much sexier. Everyone looked when I walked by.

While I was being fitted, another woman, also an American, was trying on the same kind of shoes, and the gentleman with her was very complimentary when she stood to walk in them that she got them as well. These open gold spike-heeled sandals seemed to be very popular, and for good reason, they made the wearer’s feet and legs look spectacular.

On our third day in Rome Hirshydick talked a lot about Roman history, and in particular, a topic that seemed to fascinate him. He knew Rome well and took me on a tour that was mostly through the Coliseum, with particular attention to the exposed underground where the holding pens were for participants, as most of them were involuntary fighters, both animals and humans.

Hirshydick proved to be a great fan of the ancient Roman gladiators who would fight, usually to the death, on the hot sands of the coliseum floor. He told me they were often depicted in medieval and later art as wearing special armor and leather vests and skirts, but he said accurate records showed they usually fought naked.

He also said it was well recorded that the men fighting naked in the pit would often sport raging erections, their full pendular scrotums rocking wildly from their groins as they plunged with their swords, spears, and knives. He also explained that they would ejaculate when they made a kill.

He told me that story remarkable twice on our tour, and both times I heard it I began an orgasm. Isn’t that funny? Gladiators killing and ejaculating! I’ll bet that brought a reaction from the crowd who had come to watch men killing each other for sport, and being sexually excited as they killed another naked man.

He took me into a secret underground library. It was full of Roman art, most if it never made public because of its highly sexual content. It was incredibly explicit, and he said it existed only here, with access only to the privileged few, with backups in a secret underground archive. The modern-day Romans had an appreciation for their history, no matter how colorful or sordid.

In these secret catacombs, I saw realistic drawings of naked gladiators, including close-ups of their shaved groins sporting massive upward-curving erections depicted from a low point of view, so that their veins and swinging balls were central. It was impressive. In several of the explicit drawings, the men were spurting gobs of fresh semen.

Of course, when he showed me the proof of his claim, I thought it was both disgusting and interesting. I’d never heard of men ejaculating when they killed before. For me, it was an exciting new idea, which is probably why I came when he said it. Both times. I mean I’m a modern girl, not a prude, and like most people, I imagine, I do have some interest in such things.

We also saw lots of crude drawings of female genitalia, cunts, both naked women and young girls being bound and tortured for the amusement of an audience. Frequently they were being killed, either by crucifixion or by anal impalement. Clearly, the ancient Romans played very rough, using the death of naked victims as amusing.

There were also drawings of naked females of various ages engaged in extreme nude fights, some between women as well as some depicting them fighting against men. The young girls, some as young as eight, were particularly aggressive and driven, shown in the drawings to be unrelenting and merciless.

When a little girl was downed by her opponent, the victor would stand with a foot on her chest, the tip of her blade at the dominated girl’s throat or inserted into her cuntlet, and with a signal from the Emperor, she would jab it in deep, cruelly dispatching the losing naked girl for the amusement of the crowd.

The drawings were very explicit, depicting the ripping and gutting of a naked female as an integral part of the entertainment. This was the action the citizens of Rome had come to see. These drawings were private and were never seen by the public. This kind of explicit depiction was considered too realistic for the public, and the modern Romans would never admit that their ancestors sexually abused naked little girls.

The pit in the Coliseum was a place of death, and it was abundantly clear there was open sexual excitement on the part of the combatants, or at least in the minds of the Roman artists who were drawing the extreme violence. They certainly would never have made it up, when their task was to record what happened on the arena floor.

Hirshydick told me that often a nude gladiator would take on three naked women in the arena at once, or sometimes assault five or six young pre-pubescent girls, and would just keep on attacking them, stabbing and hacking with his sword until he’d killed them all. That is if they didn’t manage to kill him first.

He said the women didn’t always lose, although they usually did, as the fans loved to see a naked woman being sliced and diced alive. Doing that was a specialty of many of the brave gladiators. I was surprised to hear they had specialties when it was all about killing, but these were professional killers, and I guess a specialty made them stand out.

Hirshydick told me most of the women and girls used for the killing sports were Christians because generally, people didn’t like them much, and that gave the Roman mob, people who worshiped many gods, something to focus on with the appropriate amount of hate, or at least with not much empathy for the victims.

He told me some of the women became very good fighters, using swords, tridents, nets, stabbing blades, and other killing weapons. They became good at it out of necessity, because if they didn’t, they were toast, and a lot of women became skilled with their weapons, so that the killing of a man was not that uncommon.

“This is where they held the lions and leopards that were to appear that day,” he said, showing me small pens near the entrance ramp to the Coliseum floor, “They sometimes fought each other, but more often were set loose on gladiators, or defenseless naked females. That was feeding time, a popular part of the entertainment in the arena, watching naked females being ripped and eaten alive.

“Often the big ravenous cats were turned loose against naked women and girls,” he explained, “armed with only a rudimentary wooden weapon. The big carnivores were very expensive, as they had to be captured and transported a long way to become part of the activity in the Coliseum. Young attractive females were very easy to obtain, and their lives of little value to anyone.”

“Did those things really happen?” I asked, incredulous.

“Abso-fucking-lutely!” he replied, “The Romans appreciated watching active and sexually stimulating sport. That’s what brought them out to the Coliseum sometimes several times a week. It was Caesars’ main pacifier of the population of Rome. The lions and leopards needed to eat, and human meat was cheap, so what’s wrong with having an audience watch?

“They loved to see a big cat rip and kill a naked women or young girl, or even eat her parts while she was still alive. The people in the audience were always gladiators.”

Now that’s funny. Gladiator. ‘Glad he ate her!’ Get it? Hirshydick had a great if weird sense of humor. While we were in bed that night and he was giving me one of his amazing power fucks, he said he had a friend in Rome who needed a date the next night, and wondered if I’d be willing to do him a small favor.

That seemed a strange thing for him to ask, particularly while we were traveling, but I was always interested in riding a new cock for a change. The men of Rome were reputed to be master lovers, and I was anxious to find out, so I said I was in. I guess I owed him because he was being so nice to me all the time.

After all, he’d paid for my trip to Europe, bought me the amazing gold shoes, took me to the museum, and as I said, he was very nice to me the whole time. He treated me like his Princess, and that made me feel special, even while showing me that filthy Roman art. What was so special was how great he was in bed, and how well he used that amazing penis of his, almost like a sword.

Hirshydick was also the only man who ever spread my buttocks and got his tongue against and even into my anus. Nobody’d ever done that to me before, and I loved it, particularly when his hand was on my cunt with his fingers rubbing up my clit. I loved being so well attended to, so when he asked for the favor, I thought it was the least I could do.

CHAPTER TWO

Just after lunch the next day the friend showed up in a white Spyder Lamborghini, the top down on the sunny day, displaying bright red leather upholstery. Hirshydick introduced him as Libido, which I thought a curious name, but the Italian guy was good looking, rich and built like a stud. I was impressed, and got in the car with this gorgeous looking stud.

We drove out of the city onto winding country roads through fields and olive orchards and over hills. It was the kind of road cars like this were built for. Libido was a good driver, and the ride was thrilling. We went into a range of low mountains, and at last came to what looked like an ancient village. It was the kind you’d find on postcards, with all the old buildings made of the same kind of stone.

After checking in to a quaint hotel, we got back in the car and he drove into a little valley right behind the village. Nestled inside it was an ancient Roman arena, almost like a little Coliseum, although it was much smaller. There were several expensive cars parked in the lot beside it, and parking his in a convenient spot, we got out and went into the stone structure.

It was, like the major one in Rome, an open pit arena, with iron-gated entrances to the arena on its eight-foot walls. Anyone fighting in this space would have no retreat. It was a lot smaller inside than I expected. My guess was that it could accommodate no more than a couple of hundred spectators, if that. I wondered what kind of performances were held here.

Being in the little valley with only one opening on the village side, it appeared to be very private, with no signs on the road announcing its presence. If they were so inclined, the owners could likely hold any kind of illegal event they wanted, and nobody would be the wiser. I smiled as I realized It was a perfect setup for doing whatever they wanted, with impunity.

Libido suggested we check under the stands, to see where everybody was, and he led the way through a small ramp. I was wearing my gold spike heels, and the going was rough stone, but with Libido’s offered arm, I managed. At the bottom of the narrow ramp was a heavy wooden door. He opened it, and when I went in I was more than a little shocked at what was before me.

About two dozen women, buck naked except for all of them wearing gold heels exactly like mine, were in the large room. Several were huddled together, waiting for their turns, while five strapped into reclining chairs, their long legs spread, as hairdressers and makeup artists attended to them.

They were uniformly beautiful, with remarkable breasts, as large as mine. What was bizarre was that the makeup artists were applying lipstick and blush not to their gorgeous faces but to their cleanly shaved or perfectly waxed vaginas! All of them had their mouths taped closed, to keep things orderly.

At that point, I nearly shit myself. One of the naked bound women in the group standing was the one I had seen in the shoe store, getting the same shoes I wore. This was not random; these people ran a fucking organization! Libido pointed to an empty chair, and told me to get out of my clothes and sit in it. I was going to be nothing but another fucking naked lady doll!

Of course, I protested, but he and another man took hold of me and ripped off my top and skirt, destroying them in the process. My bra and panties followed, all thrown into a bin with other clothing, and I was forced to stand with the others, waiting our turn to have our bodies attended to.

One by one the workers completed their task, and another took the vacated place in the chair. At long last, my turn came. I was moved into place by two muscular men, and forced to sit back in the chair. My arms and legs were bound, and I was suddenly nothing more than another captive bitch.

“Fucking Shit!” I screamed before a wide band of duct tape was firmly pressed across my mouth, as had already been done to all of the other ladies. It seemed these pricks were not interested in our screams or the blasphemy we would otherwise produce. They were all business, and it appeared they were all completely professional.

A woman and an effeminate man went to work on my hair and my body makeup, with particular attention given to decorating my clean-shaven cunt. The woman went so far as to give me some injections around my labia, causing some swelling that apparently would provide an enhanced look.

I resented the affront to my organ, but then noticed some of the others who had received the same kind of treatment looked pretty cool. If your cunt’s going to be displayed, I reasoned, it had better look good. I could only remember being naked in public at Hook-Up Beach, where everyone went to get balled. That was different. Here it was just us and the attendants, no studs.

From what I could guess, we were going to appear in the arena ring, as naked as we were now. What I anticipated with more than a little concern was that we might be forced into some faux competition, like racing, or pretending to be gladiatrixes or something as bizarre. That’s the kind of foolish thing in which someone might get hurt.

The nearby village was far too small to have a hospital. The nearest one that might be found for an emergency would be in Rome, which was almost an hour’s drive away. What were these people up to, and why were they restraining us like this? To inject our vaginas to reshape them, even if they looked better, was an intolerable impudence, maybe even a total outrage, but the question remained, what were they planning? Was that asshole lawyer Hirshydick in on this?

At first it began with what sounded like some distant conversation outside the holding room, somewhere in the small stadium, but it gradually became a constant buzz, and I realized the stands were beginning to fill. People were arriving to witness a show in the arena! Holy fuck, I thought, I’m going to be put naked on public display, along with these other girls. I don’t even know how to dance!

When the technicians were finished preparing the hair and bodies of the last of us, and we were unstrapped from the reclining chairs, we stood and joined those who had been completed, with each of us curiously examining the others. They tore the tape off our mouths so that we could now speak. I had nothing nice to say to anyone. It turned out we were all strangers.

We were left alone for about ten minutes and took that short time to introduce ourselves. The others were more mature than I am, most in their late twenties, and it turned out I was the only one who was not an ascending business executive. It appeared they wanted sophisticated and fit women for whatever they had in mind.

Like me, the other beautiful women had been lured here by men they had mistakenly thought were gentlemen. Like me, they had been deceived. God, at this moment I absolutely hated men. They were such assholes. If only they didn’t have such marvelous penises. That and their randy attitude was all they had going for them.

Several other of the women were American, two of them blacks, there were three French, two Germans, and five English women, one of them the oldest of all at thirty-two, and like us all, she had a knock-out figure. She was so nervous she lost control of her bladder and placed her feet apart to piss on the stone floor.

All of the other women were as fit and beautiful as me. We all had outstanding figures, with flat tummies, large breasts, and round buttocks, and looked stunning standing in our gold spike-heeled shoes. All of us had our bare, painted, and beautifully augmented cunts on full and embarrassing display.

It was immediately obvious the taste of these people was for long-legged, educated gorgeous young women in golden spike heels and with dramatically enhanced vaginas. I had to admit, even from a distance, our cunts would look fantastic. That was the nature of what they had done to improve our already gorgeous female organs.

What would be expected of us once we entered the arena pit was a mystery. The first clue was disheartening, to say the least. Four men entered the room carrying a variety of weapons, including spears, tridents, nets, swords, and a hacking blade. As they started distributing them, I realized we were going to have to stage a nude fight with these and without any rehearsal!

CHAPTER THREE

The two men moved among us, handing out weapons. When one came to me, he handed me the short stabbing blade. I would have preferred something longer to allow me to stand well back. Everyone else had bigger weapons. This was grossly unfair. It looked like the concept of the fair had nothing to do with this.

The knife I was given was heavy and the big blade serrated, with the actual blade part of it just over a foot long. The big leather-wrapped handle was long enough to be grasped in both hands. It would have to be used at close quarters to be of any value, but I could see it would be lethal if I used it the wrong way, depending on expectations, or in the worst case, if I used it properly.

I was stunned by the dangerous weapons they gave us. It was clear they were incredibly sharp. How were we supposed to fake a fight when we were armed with such serious arms? I might be able to swing my short blade and easily miss the others, but what could the ladies with the lances, spears, and tridents do to miss?

I could see it was going to be very difficult to fake a fight, particularly when we had been given no training. I had never handled a weapon before, and I was pretty sure the same was true for the others. I could be careful with it, but would the other women be as aware of the damage these weapons could do to female flesh?

Just then a door opened and through it came half a dozen naked little girls, who couldn’t have been older than seven or eight. Their cute little cuntlets were swollen and painted. I can’t believe that, even as a woman, I was so sexually stimulated seeing the bare-naked little darlings scrambling like little monkeys.

They were herded through our space (it was hard to call the stone place a room) through to the ramp and up into the arena. The handlers went with them, so we were able to follow to see what was going on. It turned out the girls were gymnasts, and pretty good ones too, as we could see them as they spread out.

They all began doing solo acts, with high kicks, wide-spread legs, body twists, and moves I can’t even describe that were particularly sexy. They were speaking some Eastern European language, so I knew they were not Italian or American children. The people in the audience, all well-dressed and likely very wealthy, were cheering the girls on.

Their comments were in Italian, and although I couldn’t tell what they were saying exactly, it was clear they were being quite lewd in their shouts and gestures. Some of the men had pulled their cocks out and were fucking their fists. These men were obviously sexually excited, but the women were the most active and vocal.

It was amazing. They were looking for filthy performances from the naked little girls in the arena and were getting them. I couldn’t believe they had filled the small arena with naked young pre-pubescent girls, performing legs-spread gymnastics for them in the buff, getting them all highly sexually aroused. This was bizarre.

Then I noticed around the ring some men wearing ancient leather strap outfits like you see in illustrations of soldiers in ancient times. The straps parted for their big erections to stand out, and I could see even at a distance the gleam of moisture on the tip of each big cock. These guys were all highly sexually excited.

They were in the stands, standing up, and I counted eight of them, spread all the way around. They carried longbows and quivers with three-foot-long arrows. Each of them got an arrow ready, and pulled back on the bow, ready to shoot. The two guys nearest me also looked like they were ready to ejaculate. They were definitely excited.

As I watched them take aim, I could see they were all aiming their weapons at the same girl. I was stunned, as were the naked women in gold spike heels standing around me. This was so outrageous! They were going to kill a nude gymnast nymph who was doing exactly what they required of her in performing naked in the ring, something she was not trained or had signed up for.

Like the others performing, she was extending her bare groin with her naked bum and pretty painted cuntlet on full display, and doing lots of obscene things in moves just to entertain the people in the arena seats. Now it was clear more was expected of her. She was to abruptly receive into her lithe little body a bunch of three-foot-long arrows from the male costumed archers!

These nude archer pricks were going to kill her with their arrows just for the sport of it, and for the amusement of the audience, while the other nude girls danced in their obscene, profane performance! This was, I guessed, likely a real depiction of what ancient Romans did for entertainment in the big coliseum in Rome.

I couldn’t believe it happening like this today, in modern times, nor that the prick Hirshydick had brought me here and sold me to be in such an explicitly indecent murder show. What the fuck was he thinking, and what did he think of me, to get me involved to perform like I was a common harlot or something as bad?

We all watched in horror as the naked children performed, most of them unaware of the archers. As their individual performances reached a peak the first arrow flew. It struck the targeted girl just below her shoulder, from the front, taking her completely by surprise as it spun her around.

Her scream echoed across the small ancient stadium as screams would have done two millennia ago. This was the real thing! Terror, horror, and sexual excitement all combined in the small and now private arena to stimulate the audience, energizing and thrilling them with what had so long ago been common fare for the common people.

Fifteen inches of arrow stuck out of either side of her small body, and she spun around once more as a second arrow caught her, again in front, driving through her side just below her ribcage, missing her kidneys. It was another non-lethal hit, and again equal lengths of the arrow stuck out of her, the emerging arrowhead bloodied.

The people in the stands were enthusiastically enjoying the violent show, the men shouting what had to be rank obscenities in Italian and the ladies squealing in delight. They were seeing blood, pain, and shock, all of it sexually exciting them as they eagerly watched the wickedly violent performance, put on just to entertain them.

A third arrow struck the small naked girl at an angle low in her back, driving through her torso and likely piercing her bladder and uterus before emerging in front in the lower tummy. She pitched forward, and as she presented her ass to him, one of the archers released the fourth arrow and made a bullseye as the head found her anus dead center.

This long spinning projectile entered deep into her torso and ended up with the arrowhead wedged between her lungs. The hysterically screaming girl pitched upright, lifted a leg in a high kick, and bent forward again, presenting a new target. The fifth long arrow found her delightful little painted cuntlet, driving into her torso to exit through her bent and twisting tummy.

None of the chosen target girl’s vital organs had yet been hit by these skilled archers. These guys were too good to make a kill when they could pop her with outrageously horrible hits to get more action out of her well-trained and conditioned body. Like in the case of the ancient Romans, a protracted kill was far preferable to one too sudden.

One of the ladies in our captive group, a German, spoke up. “These kids are Romanian, I recognize the language.” That was fitting, they came from a country named for the Romans, and famous for the quality of gymnasts it produced. These kids were performing at a very high level, rising up on their tiptoes the entire time they performed.

The other girls not being targeted had all seen by now what was going on, and were obviously glad it was not them. What they saw increased their activity, making it clear that their training had included as much punishment as it had reward. They were performing to save their own young lives, and their renewed efforts greatly enhanced the sexually erotic atmosphere.

Now the remaining arrows were released at her, and they did their jobs magnificently. These were all kill shots. One went through her chest to take out a lung, another caught one of her ears dead on and went through her head, while the last struck her left nipple and drove through her to take out her heart.

I could do nothing about the mayhem they were doing to the children, but I did appreciate their skill and focus. For the first time, I could see the archers with their big cocks thrust toward the sky were all ejaculating. My God I’d like to be fucked by a few of them, or all of them if it could be managed.

They’d probably all want to get into the ladies I was with, so thought I might get to experience a power fuck from one or even more of them. That would be worth the trip here, and the inconvenience of being presented nude to such a crazy lusting audience. Sometimes things turn out to be not too bad.

The pretty young naked athlete was no longer moving when her arrow-laden little body hit the sand. We had witnessed an incredible murder, committed just for show, and the sexual excitement of the audience in the small ancient Roman amphitheater. This had been an amazing show, and I was certain there was more action to come.

We retreated back to our holding room as the wranglers brought the remaining naked little gymnast girls out of the arena. I supposed they were saving them for another day. These talented little beauties had a lot to offer and were likely going to experience some more outrageous sexual violence before they were done, as they likely would be.

CHAPTER FOUR

The dozen of us ladies stood naked, wearing only our gold spike-heeled sandals and holding the weapons that had been provided to us. I would guess to the casual observer we would appear to be very sexy, with our long legs and posture emphasized by the spike heels, and with our full jutting breasts, round buttocks, and shaved, swollen, and painted vaginas on full display. Most people like to see sexy women naked.

I for one did not feel sexy. From what I could see, the others did not either. It was summer and hot but we were all shaking from the horror of what we had just witnessed, and fearful terror of what was about to take place. We were now certain we were going to be required to do a serious battle with each other.

I supposed the sponsors of the other girls had also shown them the secret catacomb art gallery of ancient horrors, which I deemed to be gross sexual violence pornography. I don’t know that anyone would disagree with me on that point. As I thought about it I realized that was probably an important part of the program we were involved in. These were death games! It was all about killing and being killed.

All of the procurers like Hirshydick seemed to be following the same pattern, inviting us to Rome, buying us the shoes, showing us the Coliseum, exposing us to the secret artworks, and then having someone bring us to this little valley with the ancient amphitheater to prepare us as combatants in a Roman-style massacre.

They were doing all of this for the amusement of this audience of debauched lechers who filled the stands, insatiable for naked women like us to spill our blood to entertain them. I realized this would cost a lot of money, and that the rich people were paying a great deal to enjoy this incredible depravity.

Panic set in, and I did the unthinkable. I slightly spread my knees and pissed on the stone floor where I stood. As I did this disgusting thing, two of the others squatted and did the same. We were acting like common whores, and I was starting to feel like one, standing naked and defecating on the floor.

Just then a trio of husky men who looked and acted like bouncers came in.
“Okay, ladies,” one of them said, “It’s fucking show time! We need all of you out in the arena, showing the audience your great bodies, big tits, and luscious bare cunts, NOW!”

Nobody hesitated, we all headed out, carrying our various weapons.

At the gate to the fight pit.

“We need you ladies to fight,” he said, “You will all need to fight for your fucking lives. All you need to know is that any bitch you don’t kill is going to kill you. You can depend on it since if she doesn’t kill you, she knows you’re going to kill her. That’s how this fucking incredible sport works!

“The audience needs to see dead cunts, spilling their guts and pissing and shitting as they’re kissing off. That will be you if you lose. The object is to try to not lose. If you kill her, she can’t kill you. It’s as simple as that. We need you to die, and to put on a real show while doing it. Get it? — Yes, that’s you I’m talking about.”

He looked around at all of us with his steady holding his eyes on each of us in turn.

“That’s how this works, bitches, we need to watch rampant cunt killing. I need to see split bitchmeat and your gore strewn all over the sand on the floor of the arena. You are the ones to do this!

“We need you to slay every cunt you can with your weapon before you take a fucking fall yourself. Nobody leaves here standing unless she’s the last cunt on her fucking feet. There’s no reprieve, no way out, other than to be the best fucking bitch-killing cunt in the area. Got it? Now get the fuck out there!”

I don’t think any of us liked being called cunts, but right now that was the least of our worries. This prick (I hope the asshole doesn’t mind being called a prick) was serious, and actually thought we modern sophisticated women were really going to do as he said and go at each other with our weapons with the intention of killing each other!

How outrageous was that? I looked up into the stands, where the people were screaming for action. I could see several of the men had opened their flies, had their rigid penises out, and were pumping on them jacking off, masturbating in anticipation of what they were about to witness. High in the stands I spotted Libido, and next to him that asshole American lawyer Hisrhidink!

Our situation was preposterous. Who would ever conceive of, let alone do such a horrendous thing to women? Who would pay a lot of money just to sit in the sun and masturbate, watching a herd of us modern and educated women who were stripped naked, wearing identical gold spike heels, armed and set against each other to stab and slash each other to death?

Who would believe that kind of thing could happen today in Europe, with modern women set against each other, just for the kicks and amusement of fans of extreme Roman debauchery? I looked at the stands, and the people leering at us were all eager for us to get started, to see how we could be made to hurt each other for their enjoyment. To every question I asked the answer was them, the people in the stands. It wouldn’t happen without them!

The man who had spoken suddenly and violently kicked the nude lady standing in the gate hard on her bottom, and she leaped out onto the sand floor of the ancient arena, unstable in her spike heels. The rest of us promptly followed, knowing there were no other possible options. This was real, and we were expected to perform atrocities.

We stood there, distanced, each of us carefully out of reach of the other’s weapons. In the heat of the afternoon sun, we were all shaking from the shock of what was expected. We looked at each other, and into the crowd, hoping that by standing still we might be ignored. That didn’t last long. The man had a gun, and he aimed it at us.

“Get at it, kill some of these fucking bitches, cunts!” he shouted, and we realized with a shock this was going to be war.

The girl next to me swung her sword, holding it in both hands. She lunged toward me as she swung, and seeing the look on her face, I felt lucky to be able to leap out of her way.

Just then the German behind me slashed at me, and the tip of her blade cut a sharp line across my shoulder. God that hurt! We had just got started, and already I was a victim! Threatening to use a weapon and doing it were two different things, and it was clear we were all going to put our weapons to work at the expense of other naked ladies.

I spun around and sprang toward the German as I stabbed with my short blade, and was startled that it plunged into the fatty meat of her left breast! Seeing her injured, one of the French ladies thrust her trident at her, and the German took two of the three prongs into her belly just below the ribs, the third cutting a bloody groove in her side.

One of the English women, seeing the French girl distracted in her attack, went at her with the club she’d been given. It had a big hook sticking out of it, and the hook caught Frenchie’s ribs and snagged behind one. She viciously jerked it out, causing a compound wound with the broken edge of a rib sticking out.

The other French girl came to her compatriot’s assistance, slashing her hacking sword downward with both hands. She was not used to the ancient weapon, and it came down on the German’s thigh, cutting a bone-deep gash. The other Germans were involved with the Americans, and the one American not engaged in battle saw me standing alone.

She moved toward me cautiously, seeing blood on my blade, and with surprising skill, she threw her net over me to contain my arms, and thrust her spear at me. The bitch knew what she was doing, and the iron tip of her spear drove into my breast, digging a deep and very painful hole in me.

I tugged on the net and managed to get my right arm free. I jerked on the handle of the spear in a failed attempt to tug it out of my breast, but what I achieved was to draw the cunt who’d stabbed me with it toward me, and as she got close, I thrust my blade at her, surprisingly sinking it deep into her tight lower belly.

She began to drop to her knees, obviously seriously injured, and I jerked the blade to pull it free, but instead ripped her belly open right up to her sternum. It was incredibly sharp! When the naked bitch’s knees hit the sand, her flesh parted wide, and she dumped a load of gleaming viscera out, piling between her wide-spread legs.

She flopped forward over her own extracted guts, probably dead before her tits hit the sand. I had made a kill! Everyone else was still standing. I had made the very first kill! I was an innocent woman, a fellow American, and not a trained fighter, but now they had made me a killer, a murderer who was not done yet if I wished to live.

There were still lots of us American ladies standing, the others engaged in desperate struggles with the other naked ladies, fighting for their very lives. This was an astonishing situation, and I began to sob, standing with my legs apart and bent, braced for whatever was to come, watching the others stabbing and slashing at each other.

The trident had come out of the German’s belly, its barbs ripping a hole through which good German guts began to emerge. The British bitch swung her club at one of the French ladies, striking her from behind, and the sharp hook dug a trench across a buttock and across her back.

The trident suddenly and violently struck the Brit on the back of her neck. The outer two blades missed on either side of her neck, but the center one plunged through her spine and emerged from her throat, killing her immediately. This mayhem was unfolding exactly as planned, and I found myself in the midst of a vicious and lethal bitch battle.

I was pulling the net off my head and left arm when I saw one of the two Americans with swords slash the gorgeous Muslim bitch across her big breasts, splitting both horizontally. The beautiful Arabic woman’s face suddenly contorted into the most excruciating scream, as she was seriously hurt for the first time.

Ignoring the blood gushing from her damaged tits, she grabbed the handle of her sword in both hands and swung it upward, carving it into the groin of the spread-legged American. Blood gushed from where the silicon-puffed-out cunt and rectum, both having received the injections, were deeply cut.

In a startling move, the blade swirled in a large arc and easily slashed through the American’s slender neck, completely decapitating her. The audience went wild as the head of the stunningly gorgeous woman rolled in the sand, and the short neck stump spouted triple geysers of blood in the air.

Amazingly, with three nude carcasses on the sand floor of the little arena of death, four, if you included the gymnast kid, nine of us, were still standing. All of us were leaking blood from vicious wounds, mine being a spear stab wound through one of my breasts, exacerbated by the trauma of tugging it out.

All of the others still standing also had non-lethal gashes and stab wounds showing brilliant red color. The abrupt violent and unexpected decapitation of one of the American bitches had got the audience screaming in approval, letting us know the kind of brutal, deadly action they expected from us naked cunts on the arena floor. How long would this incredible travesty go on?

CHAPTER FIVE

The gorgeous Muslim bitch twisted an ankle in her gold spikes and had fallen. She had gorgeous legs and feet, but I guess Arabs aren’t used to wearing spike heels. The injury appeared to be serious, because struggled as she did, and she had men up in the stands jacking off watching her erotic fight to get up. It was a useless struggle, the voluptuous naked young Arab cunt couldn’t get to her feet.

The French girl with the trident stood too close to her and paid the price. The naked young Arabic beauty lunged upward with her sword, stabbing her cunt, and splitting open her cervix and uterus in a single thrust. When the French cunt leaned backward, the Muslim sat up and drove her blade in deeper.

This killer thrust sliced open her pack of intestines before the tip emerged through the screaming Franco’s upper split tummy. The Muslim cunt wagged the sword by moving the handle back and forth, doing incredible damage to the lady’s innards while slicing a long slit the length of her belly, like eviscerating a pig.

Keeping on her feet proved to be a mistake for the French beauty because the sword was ripping her open from the inside, and sliced gut began to emerge, loops of her gleaming slender sausage in danger of spilling out onto the sand. With a quick glance around, I was surprised to see how much gleaming woman-viscera had already been dumped by participants.

With the blade stuck firmly in Frenchie’s pelvic bone, the cunt-stabbing Muslim was at the moment unable to jerk her sword out of the bitch she had just so effectively eviscerated. As she fell to her knees, fatally wounded, the aggressive cunt-stabbed French nude managed to thrust her trident down into the bulging slit breasts of the beautiful Muslim cunt, further damaging them.

Unfortunately, this did nothing approaching a kill, the object of all of us participating in this disgusting but amazing arena sport. I guess the French were more about style than substance. I would have to keep in mind to stay away from that Arab cunt. As the sword-impaled Franco-cunt hit the sand, the shock drove her tripe out of her split belly, and the Arab retrieved her weapon.

Now, like the other French bitch, the one I had so effectively gutted, the naked French cunt in her gold spike heels dropped over her own pile of spilled intestines and gore, now reduced to nothing but dead bitchmeat, a fitting end for what I’d learned was a Paris advertising executive, specializing in condoms and perverse sex toys for both men and women, with specialty items designed for use in children.

There were now five of us cunts dead, six of us standing and the Muslim downed by her shattered ankle but still able to kill, as she had just so effectively demonstrated. I knew we still had a long way to go if we intended to survive. I realized many of the other cunts had all seen me do my kill and were ready to kill me before I got to them.

This was going exactly as the man who got us into the arena had said it would. We were all desperate to kill the others before they got their flesh-rending weapons into us. The producer of this incredibly violent display of womanly pulchritude had obviously created this kind of profane performance often, as he had nearly perfected it.

It was abundantly clear he knew well the female mind. We were at heart vicious killers when our lives were on the line. I watched as the American with the spear and net went after the German with a trident, and she thrust with her spear as she threw her net. The spear dug into the side of the German just below her ribs as the net flew.

The German saw the attack coming, and raised her trident, catching the net and moving it high above her head. With an additional lurch of her trident, she jerked the weighted net out of the hands of the American while writhing in agony at the invasion of the spearhead in her side. It turned out Kraut cunts made good fighters.

She grabbed the net with her free hand and cast it over the American, then pulling hard, drew the bitch toward her, and then raising a shapely leg, kicked the Yank hard between her big tits with the heel of her shoe so that the nude cunt, a new heel-hole punctured in her chest, fell to the sand, sprawled on her back with her flared cunt on display and her legs spread. The beautiful downed and spread naked American made a perfect target.

Without hesitation the enraged German jabbed her trident into the exposed belly of the downed bitch, driving it deep into the beauty’s tender bacon meat. The belly-stabbed bitch raised her hips in her heels, her thighs spread for balance as she released the contents of her bladder in a long arcing solid amber stream one would expect from a pissing man.

The German, the spear still firmly planted in her side, suddenly took a slashing blow across her buttocks from the other American armed with a sword, and blood gushed from the shapely butt-mounds. She spun, and a second slash of the same bloody blade crossed the base of her big breasts, digging deep trenches in them, splitting them in two horizontally.

She was now disarmed, as her trident was firmly stuck in the belly of the deceased American who had paid the supreme price for having speared her. She had failed in her attempt to jerk the spear out of her side, and the other American’s blade found her belly. Three thrusts and an upward rip finished her, and she fell, resembling a gutted pig, large loops of her emerging viscera preceding her.

She lay on the sand, with her big bare buttocks spread wide and propped in the air, the starfish of her puckered anus on prominent display. Her provocative bum hole slowly opened, and a stool emerged from her rectum to pronounce her death to the audience. That made seven dead, four of us standing and the Muslim in bad shape on the floor of the arena.

This incredible event was progressing exactly as the man had said it would. Death reined. I glanced around and was startled to see the naked archers still in position around the stands, but now they each had an athletic nine or ten-year-old naked female gymnast riding his large penis like nude pole dancers eagerly humping their tightly-stretched little cunts on his flesh shaft.

The audience, too engrossed in the bloody action, paid them little attention. Clearly the people in the stands had no concern about the heartless men engaged in unbridled child sex. The children riding their raging penises were female, and that appeared to be all that mattered. The show in the arena pit held their attention.

The odd person in the audience would turn their head toward one of the men coupling with a little girl and watch the large penis pumping in a gripping little cuntlet for a few moments, fascinated by the sight of the natural child anus winking that was common, due to the location beside pumping sex organs.

They would turn back to the brutal and deadly blade action in the small stadium, as their main interest was in the beautiful naked gladiatrixes in the arena – us. They had come to witness classy ladies, naked in gold heels, fighting for their lives, literally butchering each other, and men engaged in unrestrained sex with the naked little girls were simply an interesting diversion.

Another naked American cunt, the one with the trident, came at me with a powerful thrust toward my big breasts. Reflexively, I slashed with my knife firmly gripped in both hands and was astonished that it cut right through the wooden shaft so that the head of the trident fell harmlessly to the sand. I had with that one simple move effectively disarmed the bitch! Without hesitation, I took advantage of her momentum toward me.

I thrust the blade beside her shoulder blade and down into her chest from a high angle. I caught a lung, I think, because as I jerked the blade free, she coughed up blood. The downed bitch leaned back, her shapely legs spread and her bare belly exposed. Instead of the easier gut shot, I thrust my trusty blade up into her perfectly positioned and artificially enhanced cunt.

The voluptuous naked American business executive’s eyes bulged as she realized I had got her. She had in an instant lost out in the brief engagement she had initiated. This would teach the stupid cunt to fuck with me, another American, but one determined to stay away from the weapons those still standing held.

I wiggled the sharp blade around inside her, and then suddenly I jerked the handle upward, slicing the steel with surprising ease through her pubic bone. Once that barrier was crossed, it was easy for me to rip it up her tummy through and past the dimple of her navel, opening her bacon like a slaughtered pig, to reveal the naked and fit cunt’s tight pack of gleaming viscera. She was mine!

Her spread knees hit the sand hard, and like several of the other losers, she contributed her gleaming tangle of guts to the gore on the arena floor. I thought I had made my second kill, but she was still kneeling and was still alive. With all my strength I swung my blade, grasped in both fists, at her exposed neck, and with a single blow decapitated the gorgeous bitch.

Mother of God, what had I done? I had just, for the second time in one day, committed a brutal murder. It was so brutal the other three still alive had just watched me in awe. I was now the one to be feared, and worse for me, to be killed before I killed any of them. The lethal play was working out exactly as the designers intended, and now all of us were about to become dead!

The Germans, Muslims, and other Americans who were still alive were all armed with swords. Only the German, the other American bitch, and I were able to stand. I alone had a short hacking blade, the only one provided to the whole group of us. All of the other weapons were embedded in the strewn nude carcasses of the slain cunts.

The other three naked cunts all faced me, the two standing braced with their legs spread. Clearly to them, I was the one to fear, and they all apparently did. I felt a sudden and unexpected surge of power as if for the moment I were invincible. It had come down to the last cunt standing, and I had a great chance to be the one!

I realized with some shock and self-depreciation that I had felt a sense of exhilaration when I ripped open the second woman. It gave me a rare sense of supremacy in this contrived situation. I was proving to be a merciless bitch-killer, and the others knew it! I ran my gaze from one to the next, locking my stare with each of them, letting them know I was coming for them.

Seeing the other American watching me, the German took advantage of her distraction and thrust her sword at her side. The target bitch saw it coming and leaned back so that the blade ran through her breasts instead of her torso. Blood spurted from the spit breasts onto the burning sand.

Screaming outrageous obscenities, the American slashed her sword across the German’s tummy, slicing a wicked gash across it. She too began to reveal her pack of intestines as they leaked out of the rent in her meat. With sudden desperation, the split-open German stabbed her sword deep into the belly of the American.

Her thrust was so powerful it caused the blade to emerge through the American bitch’s back so that she was run through. Both swords were withdrawn, and both were again plunged into central woman flesh, massively increasing the damage to their abs, ripping muscle as if it were nothing more than bacon, which it was.

Bitch bellies were widely opened by the sharp thrusting weapons, and now liberated, the ladies’ gleaming intestines emerged as had several others, to fall on the arena floor. Enthralled by the fantastic gory violence, my attention lapsed and I stood too close to the fallen Muslim. I paid the ultimate price.

The tip of her sword found my cunt, and with a surprisingly powerful upward thrust she ran it deep into me, splitting my cunt and uterus, driving easily up into my own pack of tripe. Blood spurted over her fist from my opened cunt as her blade moved inside me, and the incredibly sharp instrument of death sliced me grievously and painfully inside, where it mattered most.

Grasping the long handle of my hacking blade in both fists as I fell, I plunged it downward into the beautifully screaming Muslim bitch’s neck. My aim was true, dead center, and the tip of my big knife went cleanly right through, severing her spine before it broke through into the burning sand.

I fell forward and hit the hot sand face down, my big tits bulging out to the sides, and I heard the audience shout in celebration. The audience knew they had just witnessed another pair of exciting cunt killings. They were so thrilled that in the space of less than half an hour, we had all done each other in, as required.

All of us women of standing had been forced to act on our most basic instincts, and were all fatally wounded by each other. Those who had bet on me were celebrating that I was the last to die, and was therefore in their eyes the winner. Unlike us mere mortals, the brutal and merciless ancient arena sport was alive and well after more than two millennia.

Just by placing us statuesque and self-confident ladies of worth into the arena of death, they proved that desperate naked women, even those standing like us, with their lives on the line, would indeed attack and kill each other, out of desperate fear of being killed ourselves, and all of it simply for the amusement of an audience.

This degenerate sport had thrived in the days of the Roman Empire, and although it was conducted as far as the Empire spread, it was most popular in the home city of Rome. The people in the stands had revived the taste for the blood of naked combatants and had settled on naked females as their combatants of choice.

As it turned out, once again we had proven beyond doubt that naked beautiful young cunts wearing only stunningly beautiful gold spike heels, when given the opportunity, could be turned into nothing more than natural merciless cunt killers. That’s what they had made of all of us, knowing we’d perform as they expected.

The unanswered question in my mind as I sank into endless oblivion, was what they had in mind, and how they were going to abuse to amuse themselves, by taking the lives of the captured gymnasts on another day of nude female butchery and death sports. It’s disgusting to admit it, but I have to confess I’m sorry I’ll have to miss that.

THE END