The Beast
As she started to walk, the gladiatrix felt a euphoric sensation of warmth, stronger than it had been before. Soon, another sort of hunger came over her. The gladiatrix placed her hands on her shoulders and moved them downward, feeling the curvature of her breasts, her waist, her hips, her thighs. She was pleased, as was the now-cheering crowd. And then her hands ran between her legs. With the chainmail garment removed, she was able to feel herself fully, for the first time in ages.
Her desire was powerful, stronger even than her hunger. She placed her palm against her labia and rubbed herself: softly at first, then harder. And yet it wasn’t enough. Then she pictured the poles that circled the arena, with their rounded tops and thick shafts. She rushed to the nearest one, an animalistic lust guiding her movements. She placed her hand against the pole, its iron almost hot to the touch from the day’s warm sun. The pole was nearly ten feet high, yet now it barely came up past her ankle. She squatted down, and the pole slipped between her labia and into her vagina. She moved up and down against it, the pole going deep into her, its thick metal shaft rubbing against her. She moaned out in pleasure, for once sounding more like a woman than a beast. She did it more, faster and faster, her huge, heavy thighs throbbing up and down against the pole. The crowd cheered wildly.
She screamed out again, louder this time. Her moans rang out through the arena, feminine and animalistic. They washed over the crowd like a siren song for the crowd. Tens of thousands of helot serfs stood just outside of the arena. They were desperate to feel the soft flesh of a woman; many of them were drunk, and most of them had never been with a woman before. At that moment, they pushed forward madly, fighting and shoving. They pushed their way past the spear-wielding guards, who were quickly overwhelmed by the crowd, and ran over to touch this immense woman.
The crowd of drooling serfs poured out around her. They saw her, her left hand against the ground, pushing up and down desperately to please herself. Dozens of men pushed under her, jumping and stretching their arms up to grope her thighs and ass. They were too drunk and too desperate to think of the danger: to realize how massive she was, how easily those womanly thighs and ass could crush them. Up and down she went, moaning loudly, the fat of her ass shaking. She thrusted up and down even harder now, her massive ass coming lower to the ground, until the men could sometimes touch her without having to jump. The pole slipped in and out of her, plunging deep into her body. She was coming closer to the ground, until the men could almost bend their heads back and lick her. And then she bounced a little lower. The force knocked down a dozen men to the ground, and yet she continued as if nothing had happened. She screamed out again, fucking the pole harder and harder. The pole started to come loose, tilting forward and backward as she moved with it. And then, as she moaned louder than before, her legs began to shake.
She stumbled backward. The men under her realized for an instant what was about to happen, but it was too late for them to flee. Her heavy ass came down upon them. The men collapsed, forced down by the heavy weight of her body. A second later, and she lost control completely, falling down with all her weight. Her ass came crashing against the ground, seventy thousand pounds slamming against the hard sand with incredible force.
The serfs looked up for an instant, and saw her huge, soft behind about to come down upon them. The gladiatrix fell upon them the men, with a force that could crush armies. And in an instant, they were reduced to goo, crushed between the hard sand and the gladiatrix's soft curves.
The men felt a quick jolt of pain, and then an instant later, nothing. But the gladiatrix felt everything. She felt the pole, thick and smooth and warm, rubbing hard against her body, penetrating deep inside of her. She felt herself falling back, knowing that her weight would crush the men under her, and yet she didn’t care. And she felt her ass falling onto the crowd of men, pressing down with all of her immense weight. Her body, once something that had once been so small and light and delicate, was now gigantic and powerful.
Loud cheers erupted from the crowd. The gladiatrix felt her body coming down upon the men. She could feel her ass slamming down against the men below: breaking their bones, crushing them, squeezing the juices of their bodies. And she felt her ass crushing the men into the ground, squashing them to a thin paste. To the gladiatrix, it all felt amazing. But she was far from satisfied. She wanted more.
She took the pole out of her. There were hundreds of men surrounding her, all of them hungry for her flesh. But the gladiatrix was hungry too. She grabbed two men, tossing them into her mouth one by one. She was big enough now that she could swallow them whole. One gulp, and the first man was sliding down her throat. Another gulp, and she felt a second man slide down, writhing as he went.
Animalistic Urges
Men fought to get closer to her, fighting and pushing to touch her huge womanhood. The men looked small next to her immense crotch. Her labia, tall and thick, had grown engorged since her transformation. They rubbed against it, licked it, grabbed it. One man started to push his way into her vagina. The gladiatrix looked startled for a moment, then pleased. She reached her fingers above her vagina, then shoved the man in with two long fingers. It was a tall, stout man, but he was not large enough to satisfy her: not anymore. She grabbed another man from between her legs and forced him in, but still she craved more. She grabbed another, then another, until she her vagina was filled tight. And then, her pussy still hungry, she stuffed in one more. She felt their bodies wriggling around inside of her: whether they were struggling to get out, or to get in deeper, she couldn’t tell.
As the men continued their writhing, the gladiatrix rubbed her fingers between her labia. A few times one of the men would try to get out, pushing out from between her vagina. She would simply slip her fingers down a few feet and push him back in, and then start rubbing herself once more. Soon the men inside her started to gasp for breath. But just as they were nearing asphyxiation, the gladiatrix began to crave more. She grabbed the pole, pushing it back and forward like a lever until it came completely loose from the ground. She clutched the wide pole with both hands, sliding its wide, rounded tip into her vagina.
Then, with an animalistic lust guiding her hands, she shoved the pole deep into herself. She forced it in as hard as she could, felt it hitting the men inside her like a battering ram. At first she it only went in a few feet, but with each blow she battered the men inside, and which each blow she was able to force it just a bit deeper. The men inside screamed as they thrashed about desperately, but for the giantess, their thrashing only served to heighten her pleasure.
The gladiatrix screamed out in ecstasy, her cries of pleasure echoing through the highest levels of the Coliseum. She slammed the thick iron pole in again and again, hard as a battering ram, as she felt the men inside of her crushed by its heavy blows. She screamed out again. She felt the iron pole penetrate deep into her, rubbing against the walls of her vagina, crushing the tiny men. She slammed it in again and again, harder and harder, until there was nothing left of the men except for goo and gristle. And as she felt the men crushed inside her, she felt pleased. But she was not yet fulfilled. For her, this had only been an appetizer.
She felt a single man still writhing about deep inside of her, and she plunged the pole in as hard and deep as she could. The first blow hit him, and she felt the pole crushing his skull, and found herself pleased with her own power. A second blow and the man’s bones were shattered, his flesh becoming tender. And then a third blow, and a fourth, and a fifth. And again, she felt herself crushing his body into nothingness, for no purpose except her own pleasure. And again, this pleased her greatly.
She felt herself nearing orgasm. It was unlike anything she had ever felt before, intense and all-enveloping, yet still she wanted more: so much more. She thrusted the pole into herself with her right hand, hard as ever. With her left, she grabbed men from the crowd in front of her, stuffing them into her pussy: as many as she could fit, and more, and then more still. She thrusted the pole into herself as hard as she could, smashing the men inside of her into goo. And as she crushed more and more, she stuffed in more still, filling herself again, until even that wasn’t enough. And then, when it seemed as if she would have to crush every man in the stadium to please herself, she felt herself starting to orgasm.
She slammed in the pole one last time, and blood sprayed out between the walls of her labia. She let out a long moan, her call rattling through the stadium. And finally, she came. Gallons of clear liquid gushed out of her, drenching the crowd in front of her with womanly fluids. The gladiatrix let out a long, satisfied sigh. And all through the coliseum, men cheered at the top of their lungs, their voices booming into the rafters.
The gladiatrix heard their cheers, and sniffed into the air. She smelled the countless thousands of men, drunken and sweaty, stretching on for acres upon acres. And she felt the men swarming around her. Some of them were still trying to touch her after what had happened, undeterred or perhaps even encouraged by the slaughter. There were so many of them, and she was so hungry. Another sound came to her, “prey,” and she liked the way it sounded.
Far above in the highest levels of the coliseum, another giantess watched the display. The giantess was sprawled out on a couch as big as she was. A tiny slave pleasured her, his body hidden under the skirt of her leather cuirass. “I like her,” Julia said with a wicked smile. The slave licked her, his tiny head wedged between her labia. She shoved the slave’s head down, easing him into her vagina, then thrusting him slowly into her. “That gladiatrix, the way she crushed those worthless helots… She’s so wild, so ferocious, so bloodthirsty. And so gigantic. Not to mention rather… luscious,” she said, as she toyed with her tiny slave, thrusting him into herself a bit harder now. “Slaves, fetch me my gear. I think I’m just about done waiting. This is going to be an amazing fight.”