Gladiatrix by Harry Once again, Victoria stood victorious before the cheering crowd in the arena, raising the trophy of her latest conquest. Each month, it seemed, the crowd had grown from its inauspicious beginning of a couple of dozen curious visitors to the present crowd of several hundred 'spectators'. She had come to think of them partly as spectators, sometimes participants. Once a month the contests were held in the arena on Sunday afternoon. In her three years of competetion she had slain over 40 opponents including some skilled males. Usually she competed only once per month, but because of her immense popularity with the crowd, there were days when she competed two or three times. She had received wounds, even serious wounds, on several occasion as the scars on her magnificent body bore witness. She stood at just under 6 feet bare footed, indeed, totally bare except for her weapon(s) and the Roman sandals with leather thongs wrapped up her shapely calves. Her hair was long, dark brown, straight and like fine silk. Her build was medium but with well defined muscles. She was totally alert to all that was going on about her. Her sweet, serene face was deceivingly soft. Beneath was an intelligent, agile, quick survival machine. Outside of the arena, she was soft, kind and loving. Men who had dared to love her had not been disappointed. Now, it was time to present today's trophy to the most honored guests, those chosen to receive the ultimate honor at the Sunset ceremony just a few hours into the future. Today's oponent had been a tall athletic blonde women- Norse, undoubtedly who stood three inches above Victoria. She had fought valiantly before surrendering. The guests of honor had indicated that the trophy of their choice was the woman's head. Victoria was holding the norsewoman's head high, by its long blonde hair, turning to face each direction of the spectators in the small arena until she walked to the honored ones and placed the head on a platter. The blonde's eyes were open and her mouth was agape. She had not finished her last words when Victoria's broadsword flashed and swiftly decapitated the hapless blonde. Victoria had grabbed the long tresses and lifted the head off the body without getting it covered with blood. The blonde had been kneeling, totally nude, hands lashed behind her back when the sword struck. Two columns of bright blood spurted nearly 15 feet into the air, and soaked into the damp sand. After about 3 spurts, the woman's body fell to the side, stiffened and rolled onto her back. Her legs begain flailing for a short while, then fell apart, one drawn up, the other extended. The spurting blood had subsided to a gentle flow trickling into the sand at the top of the headless body. The blondes chest heaved with a few final gasps. The nipples on her well formed full breasts were erect and pointed outward. Her magnificent body quivered a couple of times and lay still. As the honor guests received the garish trophy, two referees approached the blondes body, rolled it up to cut the bindings from the wrists and then, each grasping one leg, they drug the limp headless form across the damp sand through the solid wood doors at one end of the arena and lifted her upon a cart. Victoria was permitted a break before her next contest. Two first time competetors were to entertain the guests. She often enjoyed watching the first timers. Today's contest was between two pretty young women. One would have the broadsword and shield. The other was armed with a bow and three arrows. The contestants entered the arena and approached the honor seats. They bowed to the honored guests and spoke in unison, "Morituri te salutamos". The ancient Roman address "we who are about to die salute you." The two women then walked about 30 paces apart, turned and faced each other. The tall red headed woman raised her shield and approached the short, sturdy brunette. The brunette drew an arrow. Her inexperience caused her to aim at the mid body of her larger opponent. The first arrow clanged off the shield and flew out of the arena. Another arrow was fletched. This time, the brunette dropped the point of aim at the last second. The arrow struck the redhead in the thigh, causing her to cry out in pain, but she continued to approach. This time, the brunette aimed at the head of her opponent and when the shield was raised, she again lowered her aim. The shield dropped, too late. The arrow was barely deflected by the shield and struck the redhead in the belly just below the navel penetrating to the fletching. The redhead groaned and her knees buckled. She staggered to her knees and put her shield on the ground, leaning on it for support. "Keep your distance, honey", Victoria muttered under her breath, knowing that patience would spell victory for the brunette. The big redhead wavered and fell on her back still grasping her gleaming sword. But the young woman, lacking in experience, stepped forward and placed her sandaled foot on the fallen woman's chest. The redhead was staring with glazed eyes at the sky above. Her eyes briefly focused on the trimuphant brunette standing above her. Summoning her last bit of effort, she thrust her sword to the hilt in the brunette's soft belly, angling upward into the chest cavity where it sliced the beating heart in half. The brunette gasped in disbelief at her mortal wound. She turned, staggered and fell backward sprawled across the body of the dying redhead. The crowd was thrilled, and becoming aroused at the deaths of the two beautiful women. Referees came to drag the nude bodies of the the women out of the arena. They were still making agonal gasping breaths, their gurgling blood appearing as froth on their dying lips. Their mouths were forming words but no sound escaped. The bodies were taken to carts to be prepared for the evening's festive events. Victoria was lay down on a lightly padded stone couch awaiting her next competetion. It was intermission. Curtains were drawn on most of the spectators booths. Seeing mortal combat was a very erotic stimulus to the spectators men and women alike, most of whom had been drinking wine and using various mind altering substances. Now they were letting off tension. There was a little bit of necrophilia in most everyone Victoria had observed. She quickly fell asleep in her chamber. Meanwhile the bodies of the two recently slaughtered women were taken to the courtyard for preparation. The brunette, who had been been run through with the broadsword, was partly eviscerated by the wound. Her body was hung up by the heels and the preparers had finished gutting her. The redhead was still clinging to life. The preparers had laid her body on a narrow table. One of them dragged her to the end of the table. She felt her legs being spread by one of the preparers, and could dimly see him bend forward and take her erect nipples in her mouth. It felt incredibly good, and the sensation built as the man entered her with his penis. She began to cum almost instantly and continuously. Her orgasm took her to levels she never before experienced. She moaned, "fuck me, ooh fuck me Ohh. Dont Stoppphh. Ahhh....." Her words trailed off as she gurgled her dying breath. Her body was shook and shuddered violently with her orgasm. Then she was still and after a couple of the other attendants had their pleasure with her beautiful body, it was time to prepare her for the next step.. She would be the main event for dinner. The brunettes body was subjected to the same pleasures and then prepared for roasting whole. Spits were inserted in the vaginal openings of the two women's bodies until they protruded from their open mouths. After the wrists were bound behind their bodies and the ankles lashed to the spit, the bodies were transferred to the rotisserie and turned slowly over a bed of coals. Victoria tossed in her sleep. She was dreaming of a contest in the arena. A gladiator named Claude was in the arena with a well built brunette woman opponent. The woman was holding a gleaming broadsword. Claude had a trident, shield and net. Claude was not a large man, but he was well developed and Victoria had longed to have him for a long time. Victoria could not see who the woman was, but she aggressively charged at Claude. He successfully parried a couple of sword slashes. The woman lunged and swung her sword from overhead with a viscious effort. Claude's sheild and helmet deflected the blow but the sword caught his left arm and sliced open a large but superficial gash. The woman's momentum carried her past Claude who cast his net over her as she lunged past. He pulled back on the net and the woman was thrown on her back. Claude quickly stepped on her wrist, causing her to release her sword. The woman struggled to get to her dagger, carried in a G-string about her bare waist. Claude pressed the trident against her bare breast, drawing a small rivulet of bright blood. With his own dagger, he bent forward and cut the G-string. Then he drug the subdued woman to a log, half buried in the arena sand. He stretched her body across the log, holding her down with the trident. As he stood over the woman he looked up at the honor guests. They stood, extended their arms and then turned their thumbs down. Claude looked down at the woman. Victoria still could not see make out the woman's face. "Trident!, Trident!, Trident!," the crowd chanted. Claude did not like this, Victoria could see. This was not a merciful death. He shook his head. "Take the woman, then kill her," the Honor Guests shouted. "Trident, Trident!, Trident!," they chanted. If he did not grant their request, he could find himself executed. "Let me die while you are having your way with me, " Victoria heard the womans voice say to Claude. He untied the thongs of her roman sandals and ran his hand down her shapeley legs as he slipped them off her feet. He tied her arms above her head and secured them to a broken branch on the log. He saw that her nipples were hard as he fondled her firm shapely breasts. He laid the trident on the ground, and stroked her beautiful legs. His hand found her sex and found it to be moist. She wanted this. Well, he hoped it would be good for her, it would be her last time. He was quite hard by now and he dragged the womans body to the edge of the log. She moaned and thrust her pelvis to help him enter her. She was so stimulated that she began to cum very quickly. Claude pumped his muscular body into her, causing her breasts to bounce up and down. She was climaxing nearly continuously. "Now, " she groaned. "Do me now or they will kill you too." He kept slamming his body into her as he picked up the trident and thrust it into the hapless womans chest and abdomen. Her back arched and she screamed. One of the points had found its way through her lungs, another through her upper abdomen. The poor woman's body was arching and thrashing with her final orgasm. "Finish me now," she begged hoarsely. Blood trickle from her mouth. Claude took his dagger from his G-string. He grasped her long hair and pulled her head back, exposing her soft white throat. He plunged the knife into the hollow at the base of her throat, down into her heaving chest. She cried out briefly. Then her body stiffened and then fell limp. Claude filled her with a massive load as he lunged with his climax. He gently brushed her cheek with his bloody hand. Her eyes stared through dilated pupils into space. He bent forward and kissed her mouth. Then he reached up and cut the thongs on her wrists. Claude picked her limp, naked body up and carried it toward the arena door. As he approached the heavy wood door, Victoria strained to see the Woman's face. As Clalude turned to go through the large doors, the womans head was right in front of the window. Victoria looked into her own staring dead eyes. She awoke from the dream immediately. She was soaking in sweat, her breath coming in short gasps. As she sat on the edge of the couch, there was a knock on the door. "Victoria, you will be fighting in the main event in a few minutes. Your opponent today will be the Gladiator, Claude. Do you know him?" Victoria felt a chill that made her body covered with goosebumps as she envisioned her body on the roasting spit.