@ http://xxxratedgroups.com/group/nitesprites_arena/
The brunette sobbed decoratively under the blondes foot, she was dying. The sound of the crowds bloodthirsty approval was still ringing around the walls of the stadium, it had been a good fight. From where he was watching he had one of the best views in the house, and he found himself now somewhat out of breath, as though he had been one of the combatants, well, he soon would be. He'd never seen anything like the fight he had just witnessed, and his manhood stood in salute to the beautiful combatants.
Out in the arena the breathtaking victrix stood in a victory pose that quite deliberately showed off her wonderful naked body to the audience packed into the stadium. Sweat glistened on her soft golden skin, a trickle of it ran like a stream through the valley formed by the twin mountains of her gravity defying breasts. A tear of it hung from one erect nipple, catching the sunlight, like a piece of decorative jewelery. Other trickles had darkened the golden hue of the little patch of tidy blonde hair floating between her legs, a golden triangle pointing downwards, indicating the way in. Her right foot rested between the other womans breasts, and she watched with a smile of evident satisfaction as the beaten brunette gasped and sobbed her life away in the agony of total defeat.
He had to admit he was a little disappointed in the outcome. The blonde was a vision to behold, but she was actually just a little outshone by the brown haired girl. It was a hard choice to make, but if he'd had to chose, he'd have gone for the brunette. She had a sultry elegance, and her dark pony tail swung down to tickle her incredibly round and pert behind. That hair, the pony tail and the interestingy styled patch above her naked womanhood, had stood out in dark relief to her skin, which was paler than the blondes. Her breasts weren't as huge as the golden haired girls, but they were just as shapely, firm and upstanding. She moved like a dancer, or a cat, and at first had seemed certain to be the winner, but in the end, the blonde had proved to have the better fighting technique.
The brunnettes elegant dance had come to a sudden halt when she'd bounced forward eagerly, spying an apparent opening in the blondes defences, only to find herself impaled on one of the blondes twin short swords. The brunnette had worn a green belly jewel, possibly an emerald, decorating her gorgeous abdomen. This had been plucked out and sent bouncing over the arena sands as the blondes cold steel had bitten satisfyingly deep into the brunnettes belly button. The defeated woman had let out a moan that could just have easily have been the produce of hot passion, as cold steel death. Her expression had been one of horrified disbelief, tears gathering in eyes as green and sparkling as the lost jewel.
The blonde had leaned close and said something to her conquered foe in a nasty tone, he'd not heard the words, but the intention was clear enough. The losers face had reddened at these words, the corners of her mouth pulling down, lips a-quiver, and the first tears rolled down her cheeks. Almost as though in contrition for her cruel words, the blonde had leant forwards and kissed her beaten foe with the utmost tenderness, before yanking her sword out of the other woman's belly.
The brunette had let out an agonised scream, and sunk to her knees, head bowed, holding her wounded belly, blood pouring from between her fingers. A push from the blonde had laid her on her back, and the blonde had stepped forwards to place a foot on the other woman's chest, and pose for the roaring crowd.
The look on the winner's face as she enjoyed seeing her foes life drain away under her foot, told a story of some deep personal emnity. Some long running feud finally settled. That's how things went in the arena. This was a state of enlightened brutality. There were no slaves in the arena. No one was forced to fight. They had rules about that kind of thing. They were quite hot on 'rights', and some of these rights were even extended to males. Those who came to the killing sands did so of their own free will. In the amazon empire, settling disputes and feuds in this way was normal practice. Every amazon expected to grace the bloody sands at least a few times in her life. Her first time in the arena was one of the most important milestones of an amazons life, you weren't considered to have fully reached womanhood until you chalked up your first kill, either on the battlefield, or in the arena.
All who died in the arena, chose to be there. There were a surprising number of choosers. You had to *book ahead*. Weeks, months ahead, such was the length of the queue of those with mutal grievences. Unless of course, you were something special.
When he'd first heard of this place, he'd been incredulous. It had to be a myth. But his researches had gradually convinced him of the truth. It had been a long journey, five years, but finally he was here, and it was all true. Halfway around the world, there really was a mighty empire run by women. The extent of the amazon state had made him embarrased to think of the little patch of land ruled over by his own "imperial" society.
He'd arrived here a week ago, and spent that time wandering about with eyes as big as saucers. It was all true. All of it. The scale of the empire was daunting indeed, it stretched from lands of ice and snow, down to this hot sandy capital city. The capital was like something constructed by the gods, its towers and domes as gravity defying as the proud breasts displayed on the young warrior women that filled its streets. He didn't know the words to describe those women, previously he'd only ever seen women like that in dreams.
The older matriarchs who ran things lost those firm looks of course, time was an enemy to all. But they still carried themselves with dash and panache, minor queens who knew how to weild power. They knew how to organise. That was the secret of this topsy turvey society, he realised. Organsiation, method, accumulated knowledge, mass co-operation. Oh, and slaves of course.
The highest position however, didn't go to a matriarch. The queen was always young, beautiful, fit, and an excellent fighter. She had to be to get the position.
In truth though, there were things he'd heard, that he now found, much to his delight, were not true. He'd heard these amazons described alternately as a race of hags, of gorgons, of utterly defeminised muscle women, or as a confused story from a traveller finding themselves in a place where the men wore clothes that happened to be considered female where he came from. He'd believed the last for a long time, till a chance encounter with a mysterious traveller in a bar. "Ach, they just put those stories about to discorage fools" the mysterious traveller had opined, mysteriously.
Of course, he had to know more. "You've not heard the story?" the traveller twinkled mischeiviously, before imbibing the last dregs of his ale. "Ach, thats the last of my beer money spent" the traveller had grieved as he set down his empty glass.
So, the price for the information had been a few glasses of beer. It was well worth it. Like all travellers the man was and easy and accomplished story teller. He told a tale of a vast empire run by women. Warrior women, but beautiful, sensuous beyond imagining. They were accomplished fighters, who fought naked for preference, except when the enemy stooped so low as to resort to the cowardly invention of armour. Generally, it seemed, confronted with a force of stunningly gorgeous women warriors, and the offer that the armour would come off those lovely bodies if the other force were prepared to reciprocate, most armies were eager to lose their armour, along with much else, including their lives.
But things had not always gone so well for the amazon state. Once, the amazons had been collectively on their knees. In the north a much larger, and by local standards, much more conventional empire, had overwhelmed their defences. It seemed no matter how many of the enemy they killed, there were always more. For the first time in two centuries, lovely nubile bodies were being piled high on the battlefields, and the amazon warriors were going to battle with heavy hearts, certain they would not return. Drastically outnumbered, their population unable to support the terrible losses, and facing certain defeat, the amazon queen of the time had issued a challenge to the invading commander, a proud empire builder who was considered a god by his men. "If you can defeat the five best fighters amoungst us in single combat" she had announced "we will surrender ourselves to you and accept your dominance over us without further bloodshed".
What red bloodied male could resist such a challenge from a mere woman? Certainally not the commander, who had started to buy into the god myth himself. At the head of his forces he had swept from victory to victory, extinguishing empires and dynasties, and finally even crushing the feared and famous amazonia. Surely such unstoppable success was divinely inspired? Anyway, what did he have to fear from a bunch of mere women, who had already taken a terrible thrashing from his forces in the field? So, he faced the first of the amazon champions in traditional naked combat on a stretch of sand between the ranks of the two armies.
The young queen had put herself forward as the first of the champions, for you didn't get to hold the title of queen without being an excellent fighter. Amazonia had a strangely democratic system, where any female citizen (well, of course, to be a full citizen, you had to be female) could dream of ultimate power if she could defeat all the other contenders, and then continue to do so in regular 'elections' that took place every two years of her rule. If you wonder about the nature of these elections, lets say that there were no living ex-queens. In a way, the queen had only extended this system to cover candidates who were not female citizens of her empire.
She'd stood waiting for him that day, quiet, resigned, eyes downcast, wearing only a simple gauzy sheet of material. She'd looked very much the conquered woman before things had even started. When the conqueror strode, armed and naked out to meet her, two handmaidens undid strands on her shoulders, and the flimsy garment came away, a veil lifted to reveal something special. The tale tells that a groan of desire rose from the invading army at the sight of the queens mouth watering body. The conqueror, his proud manhood standing in salute to her incredible sexyness, strode forward, eager to symbolically defeat the entire amazon nation by killing its queen.
She slaughtered him with contemptuous ease in front of the every man in his army. A mere god was no match for a goddess like her.
That army, of course, didn't stick to the agreement. But she'd known that too. The amazons quickly retreated to their fortified capital, where the queen led a spirited defence. The siege was terribly costly for both sides, but in the end, the invaders lost heart. Though they stood on the verge of victory, they had lost their leader, and with him, the vision. There were those who wanted to go home, and politics and infighting was breaking out amoungst those who stood to inherit the empire, for their ex-god had not marked out a successor. They packed up and went home, and from that day, the huge empire they'd built was in decline and collapse. Each conquered village, town and city dreamed of breaking away from their domination, and their prayers were answered in the form of a liberating army that swept in to establish a comparitively enlighted rule. An army of women.
The amazon empire slowly but surely filled the vacancies left by the collapsing northen domain, until eventually, it was the biggest dominion on earth. The queen survived an exceptional time, no one wishing to challenge the rule of such a heroine, before dying nobly in the battle for the final citidel resisting amazon rule. To this day she is revered as the saviour of the amazon civilisation, and there are many statues of her in every amazon city. Principally statues of her stood in triumph, bloodied sword raised above her head, her naked body arched dramatically and most eye catchingly, one foot resting on the bare chest of an unrealistically large and muscular male, her would-be conqueror lying defeated and dying at her feet.
The traveller finished the tale. His listener had chuckled in appreciation, thinking he'd better put the moves on one of the barmaids, the story had left him badly in the need of doing some conquering himself. He failed to see the relevance of the tale to the statement about discoraging fools though.
"Oh.. well.. the challenge still stands" explained the traveller. "The queen's wisdom went deeper. She realised that those who lusted for conquest would always rise to that challenge. They wouldn't have to raise grand armies and march upon amazonia, they'd just come there to take their chances against the amazon champions. It would always be much easier to deal with one man in the arena, rather than an army of them on the battlefield. So, she raised the stakes to having to defeat ten champions. The first three would be standard citizens who had in some way won the right to the honor of fighting for the state. The next three were drawn from those who had particularly distingished themselves on the battlefield. The next three being the best of the sinister elite force known as the "Soushian", which translates as "school mistresses" or perhaps more accurately as "those who teach lessons". The last champion would be the incumbent queen herself".
"Oh, it's all real" said the traveller with utter certainty. He drained his final glass "I've seen it".
And so, he had started out on that well trodden path. He was the greatest warrior he knew, no man had ever beaten him in any form of combat. Ten women should be little more than a mild workout for him, and then he would be absoulte ruler over hundreds of thousands of them, and the richest empire on earth.
Out in the arena the brunette shuddered, gasping loudly as though in orgasm, eyes going wild, desperate. Then a certain resigned peace settled over her expression, and she gradually relaxed into a final stillness. A while after that, the blonde stepped off her, and strode away, almost skipping and dancing with triumph, no doubt she would be celebrating her victory in style for the next few days.
Soon afterwards, it was made known to him that it was his turn. He strode out into the arena, eager to taste amazon blood, for the first of his easy victories. It was hot. The arenas were all in the south of the empire, the weather here consistantly hot, the monotony relieved by the choice of hot and dry, or hot and wet. Sweat glistened from his naked body, and he was still upstanding from having watched the blonde on brunette deathmatch. The predominantly female audience roared with appreciation at the sight of him. He grinned at that, even these fearsome women responded to his huge, massively muscled, sculpted form. He felt sure this would somehow make his victory all the more certain, the woman facing him would struggle to keep her mind on combat, she'd dissolve into helplessness before him, he was sure of it. He carried a short sword, and a simple, small buckler-sheild. The shield had a spike on the front of it, allowing it to be used as a weapon as well as a defence. So, you could say that he had three weapons, all of which ached to bury themselves deep in soft, firm amazon flesh.
His opponent strode out confidently onto the sands to confront him. It was the same buxom blonde he'd just watched dispatch the brunette. She still carried the twin swords, though she'd quickly washed off the brunettes blood between the fights, and now they shone blindingly silver in the hard sun. The sight of her magnificent, naked feminine body, hit him like a physical blow, making him gasp, and his manhood stood achingly stiffer than ever. The idea that this soft flesh would soon be thrust against his own hard form in mortal combat excited him unbareably. As she advanced to stand a little distance in front of him, legs apart, body thrust forwards, everything proudly on display, all rememberence of the brunette he had once favoured over her was banished from his mind.
Her skin had a bronzed tone, that made the twin blonde pony tails that tumbled over her shoulders stand out brilliantly. She had a snub nose, cute, a tiny jewelworn in its left side. Her face wore a mischeivious knowning expression that said she was expecting to enjoy herself. She couldn't have been more than 25, if that, and the curving geometries of her body seemed impossibly plump and firm. All she wore were a number of jeweled accoutrements. A thin band of golden metal, with three gems set in it, rested on her high forehead. One upper arm was clasped in a golden circlet, twisted into complex patterns. What might have been a large diamond dangled from a golden ring set in her belly button. Around one ankle circled another thin strand of golden metal, this one styled as a golden snake with emerald eyes, making its sinuous way up one fabulously long, well muscled leg. Other than these, she was completely naked. He stared, open mouthed, panting with excitement. He couldn't decide which bits it was that he couldn't tear his eyes away from, and his lustful gave roved rapidly over her fabulous form, lingering particularly on the huge firm breasts, big and round as melons.
What a shame that he had to kill this delicious creature, but then, in the hot fantasy made flesh of this amazon empire, there were thousands more like her. When he was emperor here, they would all bow down before him. He could afford to lose one such treasure to win the rest. Anyway, he intended to take this one too. He was confident enough in his strength and skill to be sure he could disarm her, render her totally helpless, and fuck her before he had to deal the finishing blow.
She regarded her latest opponent with amusement, just a hint of contempt invading her expression. He was a spectacular specimen. Slabs of muscle rolled about when he moved. He was big, in all senses of the term. Hard too, in all senses of that term. She enjoyed letting her eyes wander all over his massively muscled frame, finding them drawn, time and again, irresistably down to his immense manhood. He was a rare, magnificent brute. She'd have loved to add him to her slave retinue, but it was part of the stipulations of her being given the honor of dealing with him, that she didn't offer that mercy in exchange for his life. The audience in the arena paid good money to see a fatal performance, and she had been instructed to give it to them. There had been fierce competition to be the one to win the glory of vanquishing this beautiful monster. She'd had to kill two women who were in competition with her for the honor.
All in all, this was a big day for her. She'd finally dealt with that brown-hair-bitch that had been challenging her business interests. The other woman had decided to muscle in on her lucrative caravan routes two years ago, making sure her trade convoy's arrived a little earlier, and clean out the towns along the spice road, leaving thin pickings. Eventually this rivalry had led to open warfare, with caravans of both colours coming under concerted attack. The damage to their business had been so severe, that the two women had percieved that this course of action would leave them both ruined if they continued. The arena was the obvious solution, and potentially a lucrative one. The law of the empire stated that everything the loser owned went to the winner. The blonde had just doubled her wealth, and had aquired an impressive slave collection, both male and female. She'd always known her brunette foe had taste, now she could enjoy the fruits of it.
Yes, the destruction of her bitter rival had been todays main course, but she'd decided to make the day extra special with a fine dessert. It hadn't been easy, seeing to it she was given the honor of re-affirming feminine superiority against this prime example of maleness. Being awarded the chance to represent the entire amazon nation in the eternal battle of the sexes in this way was a significent honor. If she performed especially well, fame and high regard would accrue to her.
For the amazons combat with males was regarded very differently from combat with fellow warrior women. They faced each other in the arena to settle matters of honor, of ownership, or of advancement. That was a battle between equals. Combat with males was more of a ritual matter. It served a similar role to that of wrestling crocadiles or bullfighting in other societies, far distant in time and space to amazonia. Combat with males was symbolic, demonstrating ones superiority over the brute natural force of man, and by extension the superiority of the amazon state and of females in general. It was the ultimate expression of what it was to be an amazon. It wasn't just about winning, how you won mattered greatly too.
She'd not had much time to prepare herself for him, but still she was confident in the steps she had taken. Her apothecress was one of the best, and her naked body was anointed with select oils and spices known to have certain effects on male physiology. The air between them was so thick with a miasma of pheremones and scents, both her own natural ones and the potions of her combat-witch, that you could almost see it. She could see the effect she was having on him, just standing here. She had him already, and she knew it. Almighty Goddess, she was going to enjoy this!
She closed upon him, started to dance about on the balls of her feet, the twin blades describing threatening patterns in the air before her. He stared with appreciation, her big boobs bounced around wonderfully as she moved, but she didn't seem to be perturbed or encumbered by this. He had to admit, he felt a little encumbered by his immense aching hard-on, but he doubted that really put him at any disadvantage.
She lunged in, grinning with enjoyment, he easily knocked the blow aside with the buckler, and responded with a thrust towards one of the big bouncing boobs, the point aiming for the big pink nipples. She had to knock it aside with a blade, looking just a little surprised, and he pressed his attack, swinging his blade at her throat. She had to bend back dramatically to avoid it, but that let her swing a sneaky thrust up towards his naked belly.
He only just managed to avoid being impaled like the brunette, staggering back and sucking his belly in, so that he just frustrated her desire to gut him. She had the attack again though, and tried to cut his chest muscles, then drive the other point into his belly, then a thrust to his throat. He deflected and blocked all of these with confident sweeps of his blade and buckler, but finally she scored a minor success, kicking hard into his stomach.
"OOOFFFF!!" he admitted, acknowledging she'd got him there. This was proving a much more even fight than he'd expected. He was impressed, this girl could fight. He was enjoying it immensely, there was something incredibly sexy about battling to the death with a beautiful woman. The kick had been a particular thrill, it hadn't hurt him very much, because he had such strong ab muscles, but that contact between their bodies had been very exciting. He took the initive back from hr though, demonstrating his combat skill, deflecting her attacks and, attacking from an unexpected direction, coming within a very short distance of inserting his weapon into her womanhood, and fucking her with steel. She had to move fast and desperately to avoid this, and he could see she was a little shaken, some of her confidence lost.
He pressed her hard, catching an attack with his buckler and striking towards her heart, which she knocked up and away, but now all their weapons were locked together. He pushed forwards, pushing one of her blades back towards her throat. She couldn't resist his strength, and taking either of her blades out from the path of his weapons would either allow his sword to strike to her throat, or the spike on his buckler to bury itself in her soft belly. He had her, he intended to play with her a little before...
She stepped in closer to his weapons, the last thing he was expecting, and a hard, shapely knee slammed up into his balls.
He roared in agony and disbelief, and for a moment, he was wide open, and she could have killed him with ease, but she failed to capitalise on the moment, perhaps shaken into over caution by the force of his earlier attacks.
They separated, circling each other. He was amazed at what had just happened, he was twice the size of this girl, and yet, had she been just a little more aggresive, he knew he'd now be lying defeated under her foot like the brunette. He had to focus more on the fighting, he'd been letting hot thoughts of sex with this lovely creature interfere too much with the job in hand. His balls ached terribly, but strangely, his cock was harder than ever after the blow. He knew that was half the problem, his body was reacting powerfully to the sight of her, to the contact of flesh on flesh, not matter how painful. He needed to get it under control and direct his energies to the job of killing her.
He swept powerfully into the attack again, and suddenly she did seem very small and helpless as she backed rapidly away under a fusilade of blows from buckler and sword, her own blades weaving hard to knock them aside. There was the slightest hint of panic on her sweet face. The buckler came in from one side, and she stepped out of its path, blocking it with one blade, and the sword came in higher at the other side, aiming to puncture a big firm boob once more. She managed to deflect this too, with her other blade, and they were weapon to weapon once more.
Once again their weapons were locked together, once again she stepped close. He winced slightly, expecting the thud of her knee into his balls once more, but this time she did something else. Unexpectedly that soft, voluptuous body was pressing against his, the huge proud knockers squashed against his chest. His agonisingly hard cock was trapped between her soft, supple belly and his own. She began to gyrate gently, rubbing her belly against his trapped manhood in a way that made him moan with pleasure. Her beautiful face was so close to his that her hot, panting breath tickled across his face. He was looking into eyes of a strange golden color, like certain types of glass. She closed that gap between their mouths and kissed him hotly, wetly, somewhat sloppily. He tried to keep some of his attention on the position of her weapons as he responded passionately to her wet kisses. So long as the pressure against his own sword and buckler didn't diminish, he knew where her weapons were and could consider himself fairly safe. He knew he should be overpowering her now, pushing against her swords to make it a trial of strength she could only lose, and as soon as she tried to remove a blade to strike at him again, driving down into her soft, naked body. However, he was still confident enough of his inevitable victory to risk sampling the pleasures she had put on offer.
Between the kisses she poured hot words into his ears "Our weapons are tied up" she panted "but you have one weapon I do not". She took a step back, freeing his manhood from its entrapment between their abdomens. "Why do you not use it? Why do you not thrust it into me, and secure your inevitable victory?".
A long, soft skinned leg wrapped around him, pressing across his buttocks as he thrust repeatedly into her. Each thrust made her emit a high pitched "Oohhhh!" whenever her mouth was not tied up with his. After a while, she bent her head to cover his overdeveloped chest muscles with kisses, her delicate little pink tounge licking sweat from his skin. After a time of this, she bent back dramatically, offering her own spectacular chest for similar treatment.
As he bent forwards, he used his strength to push his blade into towards her exposed throat. She pushed back with her own sword, trying to stay the inexorable advance, but she stood no chance, he had twenty times her strength. Soon the back edge of her own blade was pushed against her golden skinned throat. As the cold steel arrived at her throat, so his mouth arrived at the great upthrust globe of her left tit. She moaned as his tounge circled her erect nipple, and as his mouth closed around it, it hardened still further. He returned the favour eagerly, extensively licking and kissing her big naked breasts, before finally taking the left one into his mouth for an extended sucking session.
All the while he was thrusting into her, and she was thrusting back, synchronising the moment to get maximum penetration. She was doing something with the internal muscles in and around her vagina that was simply incredible, something no other woman had ever demonstrated on him before. Once again, he regretted the inevitable outcome of their combat. The loss of such a skilled lovemaker seemed a terrible waste. At the same time though, he was looking forward to it, there was something intensely pleasureable to him about the idea of destroying something as awesomely beautiful as this warrior goddess. A shudder ripped through his body, a warning shock of what was to come. The tremor seemed to signal something to the amazon, he thought perhaps she realised how little time she had left before the only thing keeping her alive was spent.
He let her regain a more upright position, keeping his blade at her throat all the time though. He shuddered again, then again. She was kissing his mouth once more, wet and messily. He shuddered again, and this one settled in to stay, his whole being vibrating like a plucked string.
Suddenly the wonderful, soft contact of her voluptous body left him. As she pulled swiftly away his aching cock slid out of her womanhood with a wet sound. She stood two paces from him, weapons raised, grinning evilly. "Now I kill you" she announced.
Understanding dawned on his rough features, the amazon masterplan was revealed to him at last. He had time to gasp "uhh.. uhh.. I'm.. uhh. I'm gonna c..c..cu.." and she was upon him.
He was staggering back, desperately fending off her twin swords with the buckler and his own blade. He could barely do this, and he knew she wasn't really trying to break through his defences, she was just keeping him busy until the moment came. His cock felt like it was going to explode, his brain seemed to be on fire, coherent thought was imposible. His whole body was shuddering, refusing to obey instructions properly, his great strength was not being applied to the task of saving his life, but seemed to have found some other vocation. Pain erupted in the left side of his chest as she cut a nasty gash in his big left pectoral muscle. A moment later her steel bit deep into his right bicep, drawing more blood,the pain making it difficult to weild his weapon. She was laughing wickedly, an almost musical sound, she had such a beautiful voice. She was thourghly enjoying his distress.
She let him stagger back a couple of paces, she could see he was primed to go off. She arched her back, thrusting out her spectacular, proud boobs, and shook her upper body back and forth, making those huge knockers wobble and bounce in a manner that was finally too much for him. With a loud gasp, he arched his own back in reply, every muscle in his body shudderning violently, cock ramrod straight and pointing upward slightly, as though targeting her knockers. Seeing the moment had come, she calmly, almost lazily, stepped forward, and thrust the point of her left hand sword into his undefended belly. The blade slid in deep, penetrating between the hard slabs of his abdominal muscles. "OOOUUURRRHHHHH!!!" exclaimed the defeated male, dropping his own weapon to clasp hers where it disappeared into his guts. Blood spurted from around her weapon, spattering over her tanned, supple belly. She grinned up into his face, triumph, enjoyment and sexual arousal glowing in her beautiful eyes. She laughed with delight at the stupied amazed expression that males always wore when you finally killed them.
A violent spasm shook the impaled male, and he came prodigiously, his achingly swolen cock jetting pearlescent white fluid all over the lower part of her sexy body, drenching her belly, cunt and thighs, as though his genetic material was making a last desperate bid to leave the sinking ship of his body, and take up residence in hers. She laughed afresh at the sensation, then pulled out her sword, causing the white fountain to be matched by one of red.
The defeated male thudded to his knees before the woman who had just slaughtered him. He couldn't believe it, it wasn't possible. He'd just been defeated and killed by a woman. The amazon placed a foot against his chest and pushed, sending him over onto his back. She then stepped up for the inevitable victory pose, one foot resting daintily on his great heaving chest, blood soaked sword raised high, body arched, displaying her fine form proudly. The crowed roared its approval deafeningly, the ranks of female spectators pleased as ever to see amazon superiority demonstrated once again. She revelled in the moment of her utter victory. She'd always loved killing men. Males like this were such forces of nature, the dark animal majesty of them excited her. They were living embodiements of the chaos that threated the amazon state on all sides, the world unconquered, as yet uncivilised. To pit yourself against them was to pit yourself against nature itself, against all the chaos and darkness in the world. In defeating them, you showed yourself to be mistress over such forces. To have such a magnificent example of natural brute strength lying conquered under her foot, didn't make her merely feel like a powerful woman, she was that anyway. It made her feel like a goddess.
He could only lie there, feeling his life draining away, another conquered conqueror. All he was aware of was the assembled female voices of the audience chanting something, maybe the name of his conqueress, the soft pressure of her bare foot on his chest, and the view he had, such a view. A view of a glorious naked female body, well muscled but still feminine and curvy. Long legs leading up to a blonde triangle floating above the wet lips of her sex. The diamond belly jewel sparkling against her flat, supple belly. From here, her breasts looked bigger than ever, almost impossibly big and firm. Above it all, the face of an angel, all be it an angel of death, gazed down on him with an expression of amused triumph, framed between twin golden pony tails.
Like so many defeated males before and after him, that was the vision he took with him to the afterlife.