Turning the Tide of Battle...

(Tending to prove the adage that precious few battle plans survive the first skirmish intact...)

A hopeless situation was on full display. The overflow crowd that filled the coliseum oohed and aahhed, loudly cheering on their favorites as they watched the battles being waged in the center of the arena below.

He panted and gasped in the iron grasp of a headlock. They were lying on the ground now, both of them, having tumbled and come to a wrestling stalemate as she worked to consolidate her position of control over the massive man she had come to battle. The position they had come to had him atop her, with his back upon her chest, with his head pinioned by her arm as it was locked around his neck in what is called a "sleeper hold". From such a position, she could easily tighten her grip on his neck and cut off the supply of blood to his brain, rendering him unconscious in a matter of moments. All she had to do was hang on long enough. She further secured her advantage by wrapping her legs, in scissor fashion, around his own upper legs such that he could in no way disengage her hold on him.

The powerful gladiator struggled to overcome her advantage, kicking up the dust with his bare feet, twisting and turning, trying any way he could to escape the strangle hold. It had been a stupid mistake, he knew, to allow her close enough to catch him in her embrace. But she was so small, so very fair of build compared to him, and the threat hardly seemed real. As his strength faded, he tried to push away from her with his free hand while the other desperately stroked away at her moist love cavern, to no avail.

He could not fathom why this warrior woman did not so much as flinch, much less swoon, at the well-practiced ministrations of his fingers upon her slit as he sought to gain her submission. That part of her was as sopping wet as any of the other countless maidens he'd fought and overcome, and then churned and cummed from his balls before, but this one's resolve remained solid, even as his own will to conquer faded in direct relation to his rapidly engorging member that she delicately stroked now.

Worse still, in his mind, was the embarrassment he felt at being humiliated at the hands of such a small she-warrior, as viewed by the shouting throngs around them which filled the coliseum. The cheering that met his ears was more boisterous, charged with excitement and lust than had ever been heard before despite only half the crowd cheering.

The men were used to victory, constantly watching female contenders laid low and plowed mercilessly, like fertile fields, by their male opponents, before being cock-vored and reduced to seed for the next contender to be fertilized with. In this world, that was how such battles, such sporting events, were routinely played out. Strength borne of anatomical advantage played a decisive role in the way things typically went in the arena, after all.

But this day was proving to be different- after the short, busty woman with her wide hips sauntered into the ring exuding an air of supreme confidence. As she stripped away her chastity armor and approached the man looming over her, all the while fingering herself into an obvious state of high arousal. What had seemed at first like it would be little more than a willing suicide in the arena of erotic gladiatorial combat, especially in a match against the emperor's favored gladiator, was now taking an unexpected, but no less glorious turn. That champion, a grizzled bear of a man un-felled by any number of female combatants, as were all ultimately tamed, captured and turned into viscous slop within his loins, was now clearly locked in a battle for his own life.

Her pale skin, lustrously thick and long dark hair, and hourglass build, marked this opponent as belonging to one of the southern tribes of the land, who had come to be rumored as being able to kill by inspiring desire, vanquishing enemies through lust, and conquering those they sought to overcome without ever resorting to war.

When first they entered the capital city they numbered in the hundreds but included in their number only a few men, who were obviously retained as slaves. Most were beautiful women bearing gifts for the emperor and trading goods in the marketplaces. The ruling men had allowed them to enter without worry. For how could such a small contingent of women hope to conquer anything but the aqueducts- the only worry being whether the channels that drained the arena and irrigated the grain fields would overflow from carrying even more white and tender cum as would be the sole remains of so many more previously feminine forms as would be led to contend in the arena.

But now, with his body suffocating as he lay firmly wedged in the crook of her arm as it stifled the flow of life blood to his brain, and with his male member pumping squirt after squirt of white fluid upon the dry sand in obedience to her relentlessly masturbating him with her free hand, the ruling men could see for the first time they had much to fear.

The men of the stadium now sat in stony silence. The women accompanying them, however, cheered with an enthusiasm unknown to them before. A victory for a woman, in these erotic battles to the death, was rare and when obtained was usually through attrition bred of multiple women having been churned by a gladiator before the man tired to the point where, well, brute strength didn't carry the day.

The women of the stadium felt suddenly invigorated and empowered at seeing a man- a powerful and merciless brute of a man, milked into submission by an opponent who had seemingly fatally handicapped herself upon joining the bout. His frantic struggles for freedom gradually diminished, eventually ceased, and the semen puddles marking his defeat were absorbed by the barren ground as his helpless and softening rod was squeezed of its last driblets. Gradually, she released her embrace of his neck, even as she let go of his fading cock.

Rolling his limp body away from her, she stood and planted a bare foot upon his chest in victory. She smiled at the roars of approval from the women celebrating her victory before settling her gaze upon the solemn face of the broad shouldered and exquisitely muscled Emperor above. As he contemplated the crumpled form lying prone on the arena floor, and the warrior woman standing over the fallen man, he seemed to be brooding. His lovely wife, an Empress widely regarded as the most beautiful woman in the land, sat next to him with her legs crossed and swaying slightly as she looked on with a pleased expression.

Seeing both the elation playing on the face of the Empress, and the emasculation by proxy of the highest man in the land, spurred the erotic warrior to rub her victory in further. She squatted down, positioning her dripping slit on the beaten man's face as he lay, moaning in a state of exhaustion and sexual satisfaction. He tried to buck her off as she ground her nethers into his face, threatening again to suffocate him. As his chest heaved in the vain search for breath, she slid her soaked vagina along his facial features and grunted out her passion without shame as she held his head down under her weight. His face was drenched by juices that gushed out of her like water through a bursting dam. She considered him as she continued sliding her loins over him, to his chest where she continued to grind. Triumphantly she gazed down at him, staring into his eyes and declaring her victory without words as he struggled to open his eyes amidst the wash of her love juices.

Holding him down with her weight and wordless humiliating gaze, she rocked back and forth- quickening her climb to yet another release. Before he could muster another attempt to escape she moaned and flushed another stream of womanly fluid on his form before sliding down his body and mockingly grasping his uselessly floppy cock. With a slap to his emptied and sagging balls she caused him to writhe in pain, giving her the time and distraction needed to position herself such that she could grab both of his feet and stuff them inside her glistening and stretched honey trap. The tender, pink flesh of her vagina swiftly gathered about his feet, tightening and overcoming his feeble resistance as they were overwhelmed by powerful vaginal muscles that pulsed around his legs and drew him in.

This was not an unexpected turn of events, as attendees of such sporting events had witnessed any number of hapless men being subdued and taken by conquering female opponents in the past. But never could any recall have seen one so powerful, so large and formidable a man being conquered and compelled to submit to being unborn, by the victor. A hush descended over the whole of the coliseum, so quiet a hush that one could almost hear the sound of flesh being absorbed, slicked skin being enveloped with a liquid sound just perceptible above the measured breathing of a woman having her way with a man.

The tender warrior was determined to be merciless to her opponent, and she again took his cock in hand, tugging and stroking to drive him further into a state of erotic madness as her pussy gently sucked his calves and then his thighs deeper into her slick passage. Over his thighs and up to his hips, she used his body like a trembling dildo as she moaned and toyed with his engorged cock. He groaned as she reached the point in capturing him that his cock first met the folds of her vaginal lips, and she used it to massage the bulb of her clitoris, which was as surely engorged and eager as the cock she now controlled so completely. His protests melted away as their moment of mutual ecstasy arrived- the clear liquid pulsing from his manhood now devoid of sperm as it ejaculated and settled in the well of her belly button.

The big fellow didn't resist, as she watched until his body stopped the clenching that marks a man's coming, and she let his cock go as it was slowly smothered by the soft hair of her nethers surrounding it as it vanished helplessly into the depths of her. She watched impassively as his sated dick slid into her with a few languid contractions of her kegel muscles. The view to all those looking on was of his body being gathered relentlessly into her with every pleasurable contraction her wonderful snatch now performed, beyond her control. His hands roamed over her hips as he sought to slow her advance, ever higher they traced her form as he disappeared deeper- ever deeper into her body. Lost in a sensual blizzard, he brought his hands up to her breasts- cupping and massaging them as in an effort to supplicate the one who was taking him. But nothing he could do would keep him from slipping further. She cooed at his final attempt to avoid defeat and looked at him with seeming pity.

The beautiful woman, with a man half surrounded by her body as they lay on the ground of the field of battle, as the huge throng looked on in stunned silence, put her finger to her mouth, and wet it. As her victim watched her in a state of awe-struck stupefaction, she guided his imploring fingers away from her breast, and took a proud nipple between her own fingers, slowly and alternately squeezing and plying her breast until a soft skim of milk appeared. When enough of the nectar had surfaced, she bathed her index finger in its sweetness, and reached down to apply it to his lips. Rubbing it around as she traced his lips, he finally opened his mouth and took in her finger, suckling it as she repeated the process several times- giving him repeated tastes of the goodness that flowed from her teat.

At length, he slowly lay his head back, seemingly content and resigned to his fate, as the steady peristalsis of her body engulfing his drew him inexorably into her womb. She placed his arms at his sides, and he didn't resist any more.

The elixir she passed to him through her milk served to melt away the last of his resistance as his muscles slackened and her pussy finally overtook him, enveloping chest, arms and shoulders, even his once proud face and head, slurping him into her body the rest of the way. The crowd was silent as they awaited the next phase of the passion play under way before them.

With her womb now engorged and her belly grotesquely distended with the captured form of her opponent, the woman lay on the ground, massaging the still hard bulge from his crotch that pressed up on her skin with its unmistakable outline. The form inside quivered and jiggled at her touch and she giggled slightly. She was amused at her complete control over her prey even by controlling his cock while he lay cocooned and helpless within her. This continued, with her teasing and amid the hushed whisperings coming from the audience, for a few moments. Men and women alike wondered what would happen next. At length, and lying on her side with her chin resting in her palm, and her free hand slowly rubbing her massive tummy, the conquering warrior turned her eyes to meet those of the Emperor and Empress.

Inspired to action, many of the women in attendance tossed their sexually soaked undergarments into the ring to show their approval of her victory, as well as their opinion as to what the defeated man's fate should be. That decision, however, would be another's to make. The one who would make that decision was the Empress the warrior woman now looked up to, with a rather self-satisfied smile playing about her face..

It was custom that when a man won a bout in the arena below, the Emperor held his thumb to the side before turning it upwards or downwards to decide the fate of the beaten opponent, whether to be saved or to be reduced to cum. The opposite held true now, with a female victor the Empress stood on the balcony looking down at the woman filled to the brim with her conquered prey. She held her thumb to the side and anticipation built in the crowd as the women cheered and the men felt a nervous hollow feeling pulling at their guts. This man had been the absolute best of them and he now was reduced to writhing in arguably willing ecstasy within a woman's womb, of all things.

The empress gave a sideward glance into the eyes of her husband, and slowly turned her thumb downward.

The women cheered, while the men hung their heads and muttered obscene things. The warrior woman, with her belly filled, patted the bulge formed by the head of her captured combatant condescendingly. Then she threw her head back and sighed as she let her fluids loose upon him.

The man inside her could only faintly hear the sound of the crowd over the sound of his captor's beating heart, and the fluid gurgling of soft tissues enfolding and surrounding him. Having always been on the giving end of such ministrations in the past, he was made somewhat curious at hearing the soft slurps and squelching sounds that were intensifying as the walls of his human prison pressed in, kneading his body.

His strength was completely gone. It was all he could do to comply with the urgings of her body as it guided him to positions that served her fancy rather than his own. From inside, he could not tell if the Empress had spared or doomed him. He was inexperienced in the ways of the womb and could not tell if the vixen who had felled him would be expelling him soon to live and fight another day, or whether he would be passed, at length, as that form of slurry he had so many times pissed out after his triumph over others. The very thought of the possibilities caused him surprise, as it hardened him again. He could feel the shiver of a chuckle from the woman surrounding him as she pressed a delicate hand around his member again through her skin.

He cooed contentedly and relaxed into the soft walls that pressed in and inundated him with a wash of soft, numbing juices. The usually sharp edge of his mind dulled somehow into confusion as he imagined, rather than felt, his flesh melting and liquefying amidst the soft onslaught within her moist depths. His thoughts were of how he was supposed to have melted this beautiful creature into cream, and idly reflecting on how he was now being brought to his own demise within the loving, tender embrace of a wasp-waisted vixen.

All those thoughts seemed to matter less and less as her expert grip controlled his manhood even through her skin, her caress making his member ache with longing and grow, even against the soreness bred of dozens of orgasms. With what little breath he still had, he panted and gasped from pleasure as much as the limited air and fluids surrounding him would allow. The liquid surrounding him gnawed at him gently. The pain, if there were any, was outside his notice, even as his flesh melted, liquefying and draining away from him with the flowing tide the walls produced in their gentle mastication. He didn't notice as his once strong arms and legs left him and he became only a torso. At her hand's strumming of his once proud cock he surrendered to a final cum-less orgasm and sighed his last as the walls pressed in gently and reduced him to a sweet pulp that turned into cum in a matter of moments.

Seen from outside, her belly was now a still and gently rounded bulge which she cradled and rubbed for some moments before reaching her hand below that bulge to stimulate herself and fully prove her victory. The women cheered yet again. Those with male partners present teased them, grabbing their crotches or sitting in their laps to make clear their sexual excitement. Some men stared at the ground, some watched solemnly, others squirmed with obvious irritation and stiffened crotches and eyed their female companions warily or with fleeting nervous eye contact that betrayed barely hidden desires.

The woman lying on the ground of the arena howled in triumph, as a river of ejaculate coursed powerfully from between her spread legs and created a vast stain of wet, femcum sprayed earth. Issuing from her tortured body, a tattered loincloth was observed amidst that torrent, the only remaining sign of one hapless male gladiator's existence. She arched her back in the throes of her release and settled back to earth only as the stream from her pussy slowed to a trickle and her stomach became flat once again.

***

She lay there a few moments, panting to compose herself, before standing once more and signaling for the next male combatant to come forth and challenge her. An obviously untested boy- a young man scarcely 19 years of age was roughly pushed from the portal at the arena's edge and slowly walked toward her and his fully expected doom. As he stopped his approach some few yards from her, the warrior woman looked him over, then giggled and pointed at the armor around his crotch.

"Do you really think that will help you?" she asked in an inviting, sultry voice. He shivered and shook his head, glancing only briefly to meet her eyes before staring again at the ground at her feet. He had watched the previous battle from the wings of the arena, and his dread of what was to come was palpable. There was a curious mix of pity and mirth in her voice when next she spoke.

"The easier you make this for me the more pleasurable an end you'll have, child." she said, quietly. He stood for a time, in silence, until he moved in obedience to her unspoken command, unfastening the armor about his loins and letting it drop to the ground. He watched her, as she slowly walked toward him. Whether in response to the heat of the moment, or the dulcet tone of her voice as she spoke to him, or the sheer beauty of the marvelous naked woman who stood before him, he had become fully erect. In embarrassment, he quickly covered his groin as best he was able, with his hands. With an air of confidence about her, she drew near to the young man, and gently guiding his hands away, took his rigid staff of manhood firmly in hand, as she leaned against him.

The young man stood, humbly compliant and quiet, close before her, as she took the full measure of his manhood - beginning to gently stroke his cock with her hand, back and forth, from its base to its angry, red head- slowly and languidly. None around them could see as she used her thumb to gently stroke the frenulum below the head, and as the issue of precum soon emerged from his glans, she used that precious fluid to lubricate her stroking motion and to tease him into an even more intense state of arousal. All was silent among the masses looking on, as she put her arm around his waist, drawing him to her until his chest was pressed against the soft warmth of her full breasts. His trembling before her intensified to the point that he seemed certain that his knees would fail to hold him up, and she held him more firmly, ensuring that he could not fall.