Disclaimer: The following is fiction. The story’s content does not represent 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 unlawful activity as described 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 portray different ages for the fictional character they are depicting, but they remain adults at all times.
Writer: Regis
Subject: LITTLE OOTI, SLAVE CHILD 7
Story Codes: Erotic Horror
Synopsis: The people of Barbary in North Africa sailed the Mediterranean Sea to scourge the southern European continent of its black and white slaves, as well as taking what they chose of the white population to enslave, often for the pleasurable pastime of impaling, ripping, disembowelling and butchering them, or simply exercising power over them by decapitating any they felt like killing. It was all just for sport and entertainment, as they gave no value to the lives of those they captured. Little Ooti was a slave herself, the ten-year-old Nubian child one of hundreds aboard Roman slave ships captured in a cove where the sailors had taken refuge for the night, to rest, and restore their supply of fresh water. The raid had come by surprise, and the sailors were the first to suffer, when they would lose their gonads in violent sports before being killed, setting the stage for the destruction of their hundreds of naked captives.
Little Ooti, Slave Child 7
Ooti grabbed Krull’s waist, wrapping her little arms as far around the massive trunk of the great warrior as she could reach as she rode his rigid erection with her rectum. She also wrapped her slender legs around his huge muscular legs, holding on to him desperately. She knew that the grip of her rectum alone on the thick male member would not be enough to keep her in place.
The men now put their whips to work on the sweat-slicked back and ass of the black girl, forcing her to pull as hard as she could. Although the whip was not necessary to get her cooperation in the contest, the tall black young bitch was encouraged to pull harder than she would have otherwise.
The jerking of the rope against her sex organ and anus by the large ring was very painful for the adult black slave bitch, which was the intent. Her efforts were also very bad for Ooti. The slender rope tightened on her neck with the jerking by her opponent, and soon she found it very difficult to breathe.
She grasped desperately at the man with her sweat-slicked hands, and her perspiration made holding on very difficult. In just a few moments Ooti’s small hands began to slip, just as the men increased the tempo and power of their brutal whip strokes on the naked black ass of the straining slave girl.
The tough meat between her rectum and her cunt was bulging as the iron ring strained with her forceful pulling. Ooti’s face was turning dark purple, and her eyes and tongue bulged as the rope tugged at her neck. The strangling child’s arms lost their grip, so that only her tightly wrapped legs held her anchored on Krull’s penis.
The child knew that if she released her anal grip and was pulled off the penis she was riding, Krull would instantly kill her for disobedience, so she desperately hung on. Obeying her master was everything. Her life was nothing. Either way, she was now certain she was going to die. Her death would please him.
She could not breathe, and the knot on the noose was pressing against an artery in her neck, gradually blocking the essential flow of blood to her brain. Her lips parted, and the men could see with satisfaction that her gums were now bleeding. This was how girls strangled to death. She was progressing well.
The desperate child strained with all her might to cling to the man with her legs, and the extra effort with such a shortage of air caused her to lose control, and she pissed all over the mighty Krull’s belly, soaking him with her warm urine. She was fading fast, and her legs trembled from the stress to the over-taxed muscles.
As she at long last lost consciousness, Ooti lost her grip with her legs, and with a loud and hilarious “pop”, her anus was pulled off the warrior’s stout penis. The strain of her anus tugging on his big dick had done its work, and the raging male organ was now spouting generous gobs of his creamy cum.
Ooti’s sudden release was such a shock that the big black bitch pulling her pitched forward onto her tits on the sand. Krull grabbed a large grappling hook from a nearby Roman chariot, and dug the tip into the unconscious Ooti’s rectum, enormously stretched by the huge penis, and slow to close as she was unconscious.
He thrust the big iron hook in deep, and the sharp tip passed behind her cunt as he drove it into her, slicing through her ovaries, her emptied bladder, and at last it emerged through her lower belly, above the pubic bone. Little Ooti now had a new handle in her groin, similar to the one on the naked black slave.
The Barbarian warrior chief lifted the unconscious child and slapped her face severely several times, until he at last revived her. She was groggy, and her naked little black body remained limp, even with the pain of the horrendous impalement on the vicious grappling hook. The men got the black woman to her feet, and resumed their whipping of her ass.
The merciless whipping forced her to pull forward again. Krull held the big iron hook, restraining Ooti, so that once again she was being hanged by the neck, but this time both she and the black slave bitch were having their crotches stretched. It was now a straight pull between Krull and the slave woman, with little Ooti stretched between them by her skewered crotch and her tightly cinched neck.
The child was quickly fading again, but she made one last desperate though futile attempt to struggle, to the delight of the watching warriors. They knew that the child would not last long, but that her death would not interrupt the contest. The only question in their minds was whether the ring in the woman’s crotch meat or the hook in Ooti’s crotch would be pulled out first. A crowd gathered to watch, and wagering began.
The men with the whips were raising ferocious bleeding welts on the back of the mature bitch, striking not only her back and buttocks, but also her big ringed breasts and her grotesquely stretched out cunt. She was struggling forward with all her might, and little Ooti was taking the worst of it.
Her neck was stretching under the strain, and this time the strain increased after she passed out for the second time. She was going to miss her own execution. Only a severe shock would revive her now. Krull was not going to stop things again, just to revive a little black slave girl. She was so unimportant to him that the thought of reviving her again never occurred to him.
Suddenly the powerful Krull gave a mighty jerk on the hook, snapping the rope with such incredible force that the pretty little black child’s head was yanked right off her shoulders, cleanly decapitating her. At the same time, the crotch of the slave woman gave way, and it split wide open as the iron ring in her cunt and anus ripped out of her.
Her thick guts found the large new opening, and as she pitched forward onto her tits for the second time, the impact caused her intestine pack to begin to slide out of her. The game bitch attempted to regain her feet, but managed only to get up onto her hands and knees. One of the Barbarians picked up the severed head of the pretty little Ooti, and thrust it deep into the new ripped opening in the kneeling slave’s groin.
He buried the head in the bitch’s belly, then with his whip lashing her ass, forced the cunt to crawl forward on the sand, dragging her trail of viscera behind her. He forced the defeated slave to crawl into the water, and move out beyond her depth, where, unable to swim, she quickly drowned. Slaves were not swimmers, and she was not able to keep her head above water. Only the floating snake of her intestines marked where the cunt had finished her last entertaining last day on earth.
Krull stood, his hand still holding the hook from which the headless body of Ooti hung, the neck stump still spurting fresh blood, and he surveyed the beach with satisfaction. The raid had not only been completely successful, but had produced one of the finest bloodbaths of soldiers, sailors, slavers, and slaves that his men had accomplished in months.
The beach was now strewn with the carcasses of hundreds of male and female victims, including removed vixcera, severed heads, amputated limbs, and detached testicles and penises of their victims from their ferocious fun. None of the Barbarians had been killed, and few of them wounded, but their swords were coated with Roman blood.
The Romans used what the Barbarians considered to be inferior arrows. Although they were well made, straight and strong, they were much too long for marauding warriors to take with them on a long raiding journey. They required long bows, which were impractical for the tactics of swift raider like the Barbarians.
Hundreds of such bows, and tens of thousands of Roman arrows had been captured along with these slaves. The men were tiring of the orgy, in that they were satiating their lusting and were nearly exhausted by the debauched sports of the day. They faced a long journey the next day, and were nearly ready to bed down.
They wandered among the hundreds of female slaves still alive, most of whom had not had the opportunity to participate in the festivities, and selected likely candidates for brood mares. They paraded the better-looking candidates in front of Krull, to let their esteemed chief make his selections.
He was shown nearly a hundred voluptuous-looking cunts, bitches who would likely survive the mass-fucking that was required to become a brood mare. He selected a dozen of these to join the stable of human mares who would bear their children for the sustenance of his race. The remainder of the bitches were violently raped by his men, and then returned to the main body of captive females.
To dispose of the unused slaves, which was always the conclusion of a Barbaric orgy, the Barbarian soldiers armed themselves with the Romans’ long bows, and surrounded the hundreds of women and girls remaining of those they had captured. Each soldier had a quiver stuffed with the long Roman arrows.
When ready, they began to release the deadly shafts into the huddled pack of beautiful horror-crazed bitches. The carnage was incredible. The long shafts had incredible power when driven by the mighty long bows. An arrow that struck one of the larger women a direct hit on her nipple that plunged right through her.
In an instant, only the feather tail was showing at her nipple, and nearly a foot length sticking out of her back. The naked little girls were as vulnerable to the ferocious arrow attack as were the adult slaves. One child took an arrow up her little ass, and the head emerged at the top of her chest, just below her wishbone.
As she fell, another shaft hit the side of her hip, and the head emerged through the opposite hip. These marksmen were incredible archers, and they made the most of each shot. Living women were ideal targets, as they presented their bouncing meat in constantly shifting angles, making the exercise more interesting and entertaining.
The sun had set, and and darkness enfolded the beach as the screaming naked bitches attempted to escape the bloody carnage by running between the Barbarian warriors. they were picked off by the remarkable marksmen, and brought down in the sand by half a dozen arrows, aimed with the aid of light from the blazing fires.
There were a few quivering bodies still alive when Krull and his men determined there were none left that could do them any harm, and that the moaning bitches would die a slow, painful death before sunrise. The men moved off to a cove at the far end of the beach and left the dead and the dying slave women to the carnivores.
Hyenas, vultures, and several other carrion creatures would clean up the mess on the beach, and within a day, not even bones would remain to tell of the carnage that had happened here. Tonight, the ferocious Barbarian warriors would all sleep like babies, and tomorrow they would fuck like mink.
They would repeatedly breed with the new women they had selected to be their mares. Life was a cycle, and it was necessary to seed their mares to perpetuate the cycle. When each of the bitches had been bred to all of the men, which would take three days, as his nearly two hundred men had to service all twelve of the new cunts, then they would be off on a new adventure.
There were always new villages to plunder, men to emasculate through castration and slaughter, and women to rape, disembowel and butcher. The life of a Barbarian was always filled with new escapades, and as long as there was ample bitch blood to spill, the Barbarians would sooner or later be there to spill it.
THE END