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. As the story depicts, the author does not condone or promote unlawful activity. 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 they are depicting but they remain at all times adults.
Feature Writer: Regis
Feature Title: THE INCREDIBLE SAGA OF SLAVER ZODA 13
Published: 02.08.2024
Story Codes: Erotic Horror
The Incredible Saga Of Slaver Zoda 13
Chapter Thirteen — Zoda’s Slaves Grand Entry
Suddenly a roar went up from the crowd. Princess Uterissa was surprised, because she had a full view of the fierce action, and there were no apparent new developments. Just as she was wondering what the crowd noise was about, the soldiers stopped the vicious beatings and stood facing to the left, their heads and large erect cum-spurting penises tilted upward in salute.
The gatekeeper, who was standing beside Princess Uterissa, turned to Zoda’s slave marshal and told him, Caesar, having departed to put his aroused penis to work in the throat of a little girl behind the curtain of his throne, was once again arriving. Each time he came back from some extra diversion, the crowd greeted him with their cheers.
The roar of the crowd swelled right on cue, the sound of the trumpets’ fanfare filled the huge arena, and as the soldiers stood at once more at attention, the pregnant girls dandling beside them by their breasts began delivering their babies right on cue, the hard way, without the use of assisting hands. The soldiers ignored them.
They had done their jobs to perfection, having arranged the arrival of three new lives as the trio of Royalty arrived in the Coliseum to view the day’s spectacles. Slowly and regally Caesar, his current thirteen-year-old wife and his gorgeous ten-year-old mistress, her blonde hair curled on top of her head and her transparent skirts parted to display her pretty bare cuntlet, made their way to be seated in their Royal Box.
Awaiting them was a swarm of alluring female attendant slaves, wearing gauze chiffon gowns, which were entirely transparent. A dozen naked eight-year-old girls were squatting along the front of Caesar’s private box, raised on tiptoe as was always required of slaves. Each had just produced a fresh pile of their feces.
This was a special treat, to satisfy Caesar’s specific taste, to see and smell freshly produced young girl’s offal. These delightful young nudes were there to satisfy whatever his sexual tastes and whims might be for today, always something different, as the afternoon of sexual sport progressed.
When the general hubbub had settled down, the soldiers returned their attention and their brutal clubs to the birthing black slaves. The three black girls had been busy, and a new infant’s black head now stood out of each of the three tortured cunts. The stretched vaginas gripped the shoulders of the slowly emerging sprogs.
The girl in the middle had worked hers out to the waist, and its arms were free. To Princess Uterissa, it looked like the girls had grown enormous round wet black cocks. As if they had not been interrupted, the soldiers resumed the heartless bitch-clubbing, this time fracturing the ribs of the young black calving human cows.
The attractive female niggers were once more swinging wildly by their enormously tortured breasts. There was no expectation that either they or their newly produced offspring would survive the beating, but their heads were spared, simply because they were not expected to die before they had completed their entertaining whelping.
One by one, their legs thrashing in unspeakable agony, the innocent young teens dropped the live sprogs entirely from their cunts, and the dusky screaming infants fell heavily to the hot sand, dragging out thick twists of their umbilical cords from their young mothers stretched and now slack wombs.
The huge crowd in the stands cheered at the novelty of the induced public birthing under torture. Only in Caesar’s astonishing Coliseum could such a powerful and usually private natural event be so radically transformed into a debasing obscenity, for the profane delight of the huge perverted crowds. They were loving it, as was the incredible Regal cunt in the bird costume watching the debauchery.
The soldiers retreated, and into the arena burst a wildly bucking stallion. On its back sat a pair of naked little girls, the oldest seven, with posts from a strap around its girth deeply inserted into their little vaginas. Their ankles were strapped together by ropes strung under the horse, holding them in place as they were violently fucked by the posts with each brutal buck of the beast.
The bucking stallion moved rapidly around the arena, and when it came to the structure holding the suspended black girls it took offense at their presence in its space, and true to its nature, its rear hooves kicked violently at them, striking their bellies with devastating effect. Their bellies were split open, and in minutes all three had gleaming ropes of their intestines strung out on the hot sand.
Very quickly the incredible beating by the flailing hooves had killed all three of the teen bitches, with their infants below them hanging by their umbilical cords, now also covered by their young disemboweled mothers’ spilt tripe. Princess Uterissa rapidly scratched her erect clit as she experience yet another massive orgasm, triggered by the gross debauchery of the scene she was enjoying.
Adding to her carnal lust was when the stallion dropped to its side and rolled over, bringing its full weight onto the little girls strapped to its back, crushing them, so that their small bodies ruptured, spilling their internal organs and intestines as well. When the stallion got again to its feet, it was trailing the visceral offering of the crushed little girls.
The stallion was removed from the arena, and Uterissa watched the beautiful battered blacks being cut down by the soldiers, by slashing off their horribly bulging tits so that their ruined bodies dropped to the ground. She saw the dusky carcasses being dragged out of the arena, through a gate right beside the one through which she watched.
The screaming sprogs and their spilt guts trailed in the sand behind them, pulled through the arena’s blood-stained dust by the tough thick umbilical extending out of their dying or dead mother’s wombs. Princess Uterissa could not help herself; another orgasm hit her as she unashamedly masturbated her insatiable cunt in the explosive rage of her carnal excitement.
She had by this time reached the peak of rutting lust. She felt she had a chance to survive because she was now armed with the steel talons on her gloves, and the spurs on her feet. Now it was time for the show, and she and the rest of Zoda’s remarkably erotic female slaves would command everyone’s undivided attention.
The heavy iron gate slowly lifted, the ancient iron creaking as the gate rose. The brilliant sunlight struck their eyes as the slaves entered the arena, and they felt the assault on their bodies, covered only with a rough hemp shift, by the sudden humid summer heat as they left the cooler darkness of the stone tunnels.
Princess Uterissa was in the lead, and her bizarre bird costume brought delighted cheers from the boisterous crowd, who now filled the Coliseum to overflowing. These were the peak years of the degeneracy that filled the hearts and minds of the subjects of Rome with violent blood-lust.
The brutal mass butchery of beautiful young women was now a required part of every sporting and theater event, as both Caesar and the jaded crowds required, and demanded, more and more shock and horror in the sex killings to be satisfied. Princess Uterissa was thrilled to now be part of all of this, leading Zoda’s remarkable retinue of slaves.
Immediately behind her came the bizarre carts, being pulled by the teams of amazing women with the yokes impaling their large firm breasts. These large carts were filled to brimming with beautiful young pre-pubescent girls. The small and very attractive frightened children were all completely nude.
Their lips and their naked little hairless cunnies had been rigorously rubbed with burning peppers until they swelled out, open and red. To maintain the bright color, both the lips of their moths and their vaginas were painted bright red with rouge, to make them visible to the views at the top of the stadium seating.
This way both their immature sex organs and their little mouths would stand out sensuously, enhancing their natural beauty, and with the pigment these fine details of their beautifully swollen and gaping cuntlets could now be seen by those sitting at the rear of the upper stands.
Following the fully loaded carts with their delightful cargo of naked young female human tadpoles were the remainder of Zoda’s slaves, led by the beautiful girls in their early teens, all of them naked, displaying their early puberty. Their budding little boobies were rouged like those of common whores, making them appear to be fuller and rounder for the titillation of the large crowd in the stands.
Completing Zoda’s erotic and sexually stimulating parade were the more mature women, those who were sixteen or older. They were still wearing their coarse short hemmed smocks, with their delightful bodies attracting the whips that kept the lewd procession moving into the arena of death.
The hems of their short smocks were so high that they came to the top of the full curve of the women’s buttocks, and the whips easily found their way up between their lovely legs to make painfully violent contact with their exposed and shaved sex organs. They were a sight to behold, and throughout the stands, both men and women in the huge audience were openly masturbating with excitement.
The large contingent of beautiful female slaves was so excited from having seen the departure and unfortunate return of the other slaves that they were now all screaming at the top of their lungs, about whether or not the flailing whips struck them. It was show time for Zoda’s girls, and these slave bitches were now all highly charged and hysterical with the outrageous exhilaration of the moment.
Their adrenalin was flowing, and they all knew that soon their crimson blood would be flowing, saturating the burning sands of the floor of the great Roman Coliseum. The splendid entourage came to a halt in a line down the center of the enclosed stadium of death, with Zoda and Princess Uterissa in front of the line in the exact middle of the arena.
Soon all were hushed, their attention focused on the incredible bird-woman with her boldly naked front. Zoda stood behind Princess Uterissa and ran his hand up between her legs until his fingers found the dampness of her naked vulva. The sixteen-year-old Royal bitch was in heat and ready for the ensuing action.
He easily inserted three of his stout fingers up into her moist womb, and with a vicious twist drove his large hand right up into her fully aroused and accepting womanhood. He clenched his huge fist, pressing his large rough knuckles against her tender uterus, and with remarkable dexterity drove his middle finger right through her tight cervix and up into her uterus, for which she was named.
Then with herculean strength, he raised his arm, and lifted the remarkably costumed princess high over his head, supporting her weight entirely by the wall of her vagina and her inner gonads. She lifted her legs as high as possible to demonstrate to the startled audience that the fist in her womb was her only means of support.
Suddenly she felt the powerful fingers in her womb bending and pressing forward, causing an incredible pain in her full bladder. A startling spray of her hot urine arched from her stressed cunt, to the delight of the cheering audience. This was her signal. She tilted her masked head back, opened her beautiful painted lips, and screamed out at the tops of her lungs …
“HAIL CAESAR! WE WHO ARE ABOUT TO DIE SALUTE YOU!”
There was a thunderous roar of applause, shouting, whistling and stamping of feet from the huge audience in the greatest arena in the world. Giant iron gates were opened at the end of the Coliseum, and an elephant dragged in a load of large rugged crosses made of heavy beams. These crosses were well-used, scarred by whips and steel blades, and blood-stained.
The audience watched with eager anticipation as the twelve crosses were erected in prepared holes so that they stood in rows facing each other. A dozen of the chesty young women were dragged from the main group of slaves. These were tall bronze-skinned beauties with proud noses and lean but muscular bodies who had been brought to Rome, having been captured in Turkey.
Their long shiny jet-black hair had been skillfully crafted to look like Turkish turbans, with colored ribbons of silk braided through it. All of the other slaves were herded into the holding pens that were sunk into the walls of the huge death pit, where they could see the horrors they were about to face themselves.
Great iron bar gates were dropped, blocking the entrance, and holding them in. These gates would be raised again only when the excited young bitches were to participate in Zoda’s exceptionally inventive and violent arena sports. The incredibly beautiful and supple young wenches selected for crucifixion were reputed to have been the royal concubines of the Grand Sultan of all Turkey.
These gorgeous creatures were all first-class merchandise. Five fat bloodied palms had been crossed with gold, and another twenty throats had been slit in the delicate process of procuring them. All of this had been done so that these specially matched cunts might now entertain Caesar and his subjects this bright and sultry afternoon under the broiling hot sun.
Each team held the gorgeous Turkish harlots consisting of three of Zoda’s private soldiers. Each took one of these proud young women to the base of one of the crosses. The specially selected Turkish cunts quickly understood what their fate would be, and they all put on a delightful display of squirming resistance and screaming as they were firmly held in place by the powerful men.
The twelve proud bitches’ course hemp cassocks were stripped off them, leaving them stark naked. Now that the beautiful wenches were nude, the huge audience gasped at the extraordinary beauty of these remarkable creatures. Any one of these incredible women would be worth at least a score of strong working slaves.
It was clear that this slaver Zoda provided Rome with only the best. Each of the teams had devised a unique method of crucifixion that they hoped would win them the top prize in this rustic crucifixion contest. It was arranged that four teams would work at the same time, to keep things moving.
The teams were spread out, at the first, fourth, and seventh and tenth crosses, rather than at crosses next to each other, to provide action visible to everyone in the huge arena. This strategy would help to keep the mammoth and restless audience’s attention as the lovely athletic Turk bitches gave their young lives on the crosses.
THE END OF CHAPTER THIRTEEN