The Games 3. By Hardie A hundred mighty Praetorian Guards are pitted against fifty teenage slave girls! (This story has violent and sexual contents and should be read by adults only.) The Roman Emperor, Claudius, had given his mistress, Flavia, the sole authority to organise the Autumn Games, with surprising results. (See The Games 1 and 2 respec.) .......................... During the performance of the Games, unusual events had occurred outside the arena's combat area. The Emperor's special Praetorian Guards were responsible for the security of the Games, and soldiers of the unit were stationed around the back wall of the arena, at various entrances and by the approaches to the Royal Box. A hundred soldiers were on duty that day. Other 'soldiers' were also on duty. Flavia's secret army of slave girls was totally mobilised and well trained in their tasks. All over the arena, in teams of three, the girls set about removing the Guardsmen, a few at a time, with the minimum of fuss. In the skimpiest of garments, the slave girls approached their targeted men and began to chat them up. Then, when they judged that the soldiers were completely off guard, the girls struck! One girl slipped a garrotte over the man's head and pulled it tight, while another girl drew a dagger from its sheath strapped to her thigh and held it at the bewildered soldier's throat. The third girl gently took the man's weapons from him, then tied his hands firmly behind his back. Laughing and giggling, to make the process look like a girlish prank to anyone curious enough to wonder what was happening, the slave girls took their captives off to a muster point in the rear of the arena. There the men were stripped naked and blindfolded by the triumphant girls and held until they were required. In the arena the heralds announced the next event, a battle of the sexes between one hundred Praetorian Guardsmen and fifty sixteen year-old girls. The Emperor spluttered. "My G..guardsmen! Wh..what are you doing using my G..guardsmen. Really F..Flavia, this is too much!" Flavia's cultured fingers stroked the Emperor's balls. "Don't worry, my dear. It's all for your own good. Trust me. You'll see what I mean when you see fifty teenage girls take on twice that number of your so called elite troops and beat them in combat. You'll see that it should be the girls who guard you, not the men!" "G..girls beat my Guards?" The Emperor was incredulous. "My m..men are the finest f..fighters in the Empire. They c..cannnot possibly be beaten by g..girls!" "Well, let's see, shall we?" suggested Flavia, once more coaxing the cock of the insatiable Claudus into an enormous erection. "If the men win, then nothing is lost. If the girls win then they'll have proved that they'll be better guards, and you still win!" The Emperor moaned with pleasure as the woman's fingers fondled his erect cock. He gave the signal for the fight to begin. Each man was led out by a slave girl. To the delight of the crowd the men were stark naked, except for their helmets. Helmets which were unique to the men of the Praetorian Guards! The men were led to the centre of the arena and made to lie face down by the girls. One hundred swords, the personal weapons of the Guardsmen, were piled up on one side of the prostrate men, twenty yards or so from where they lay. At the other end of the arena, fifty teenage slave-girls emerged to a buzz of excitement and speculation. Looking vulnerable and virginal in short, white tunics, the girls assembled opposite their male opponents. Every girl was a beauty. Chosen for their athleticism, good looks and wiry strength, the weeks of special training they had undergone for this one event had toned their young bodies to perfection. The deep tans of their lovely faces and curvaceous limbs contrasted perfectly with the pure whiteness of the girls' tunics which barely reached the top of their shapely, smoothly muscled legs. The girls looked stunning, but no one gave them any chance against the powerfully muscled, highly trained soldiers of the Praetorian Guard! A small dais on wheels was rolled into the arena, and six of the girls clambered onto it. All the girls were armed with short bows and single arrows, except for the girls on the dais, who had extra arrows. The girls also carried smaller versions of Roman Army issue swords which they placed on the ground at their feet. A herald addressed the prostrate Praetorians. "You know what is at stake, men. In a moment your wrists will be untied. On my signal, and not before, you may remove your blindfolds. Your swords are piled up nearby. I suggest you get your swords very quickly, because some of the girls who tricked you into this mess are waiting on the other side of the arena, and are going to try to kill you! They are already armed! It is very simple, men. Either you kill them, or the girls will kill you!" The instructions were relayed around the arena by other heralds, much to the excitement of the crowd. Most of the men relaxed. If all they had to do to get out of this mess was kill some of the girls who had tricked them, then there was no problem. The sooner they could get at the treacherous bitches the better! The men's bonds were cut by the girl ushers, who ran off as quickly as they could! They had no wish to get mixed up in the fight to come! "GO!" The guardsmen jumped up and tore off their blindfolds. For a moment they were disorientated, their eyes taking time to adjust to the glaring light of the arena. The girls struck. From a distance of thirty paces or so, they could hardly miss. Fifty arrows flew into male flesh. Before they could even focus on their female killers, men went down, screaming in agony as the girls' arrows sank into their hard, male bodies. Then, with a blood-thirsty scream of feminine fury, the girls charged at the bewildered men. Ignoring the wounded and dying, the girls tore into the male survivors, stabbing and slashing, cutting men down as the desperate male soldiers tried to reach their pile of weapons. Revenge for years of mistreatment at the hands of their Roman owners spurred the girls to heights of savagery rarely seen in the arena. The crowd loved it! The first few men to reach the swords were slain by the girl archers on the dais, who picked them off with deadly accuracy. Their bodies prevented other guardsmen from reaching their swords and there was a complete log jam as the men all tried to reach the pile of weapons at once. Many men perished before they got anywhere near their swords, slaughtered by the deceptively frail looking little girls whose blood-lust was up and who showed no mercy to the mighty male warriors they had come to destroy. Powerful, muscular men were cut down by the svelte young girls, to perish at the feet of their female conquerors. Panic-stricken men abandoned the idea of reaching their swords and ran off across the arena, pursued by fleet-footed maidens. Some fleeing male soldiers were killed as they ran as lethal female arrows sent their bodies tumbling to the ground. Others were caught and despatched by swift-footed, young, feral huntresses who chased down the men and slaughtered them with frightening ferocity. Some men reached the arena wall and tried to climb to safety, pleading to the nearest spectators to help them escape the deadly young girl killers. But it was no use. The crowd were thrilled and excited watching the once mighty, haughty, domineering Praetorian guardsmen being annihilated by a group of teenage girls! The desperate, panic-stricken men were pushed back into the arena where they found themselves having to face the beautiful, female fighters who were hell-bent on their destruction . Paulus, a giant of a man, almost made it. He had pulled himself up the eight foot high palisade which surrounded the arena. Two young women seated opposite the spot where he climbed let him get one muscular leg onto the top of the wooden wall, then, with a yell of triumph, they pushed the man's massive frame off the wall and back into the arena. Paulus landed heavily. Half winded by the fall, the huge, magnificently muscled male warrior stumbled to his feet, only to find himself faced by the tiniest of all the slave girls. Tania had picked out Paulus from the start. As soon as he'd stood up she'd seen that he was half a head taller than any of his companions, and once she saw him running, his beautifully developed male muscles rippling in his limbs as he dashed for safety, the frail little girl set out to conquer him. The girl showed no fear as her huge male adversary pulled himself groggily to his feet. In fact, she welcomed the contest. She wanted to be the girl to destroy the mightiest of men. Paulus, however, was terrified and bewildered. Despite his magnificent physique, the man was a coward. He was fine bullying unarmed Roman citizens while towering over them in his body armour and carrying his sword. But the events of the last few moments had knocked all the arrogance and aggression out of him. All he wanted to do was to escape from the terrible young girls who were savagely slaughtering his comrades. As Paulus stood upright, the girl struck. She stepped forward and drove her foot with all her might into the massive man's dangling balls. Paulus's scream of agony was lost in the roar of approval that rang out from those in the crowd who witnessed the girl's attack. He dropped to his knees, head bent over, clutching his balls, moaning in pain. Contemptuously the girl put her foot on the man's shoulder and rolled him over onto his back. She pushed the point of her sword into the man's throat. "Get your hands away from your balls!" ordered the girl. "Spread your arms! Spread your legs! Now lie still or you die!" "P.please, don't k..kill me, girl," sobbed Paulus. "I beg you. P..please don't kill me!" "Look!" said Flavia, directing the Emperor's attention to the scene. "That's the mighty Paulus, begging for his life from the tiniest of girls! Wow, that is a most Imperial hard-on!" she exclaimed, as the Emperor's cock swelled up even harder in her firm grasp. "It is so exciting watching big, powerful men being defeated by little girls, isn't it Claudius?" Tania looked down at the man she'd conquered so easily with total disdain. 'If this craven creature is the best male warrior around,' she thought, 'then it's time us girls took control!' "Turn over, wretch!" the girl commanded. "On your stomach, and don't you dare move until I tell you to!" As the terrified man obeyed with sickening alacrity, Tania spun round, stepped forward and drove her sword into the beautifully defined stomach muscles of another Praetorian about to attack her from behind. The man went down screaming, clutching his wound, crying in agony as he writhed on the ground. Callously the girl stomped him in the throat, cutting off his cries. Then she placed one foot on his deep, manly chest and pulled her sword from his stricken body, unmoved by the sight of the man's lifeblood spilling from the wound she'd inflicted on his magnificent male torso. All over the arena the scene was being repeated. Towering, muscular, young, naked men were being slain by the pretty little girls in their virginal white tunics. The crowd were ecstatic. They cheered triumphantly as man after powerful man was pursued and slain by the slender little female huntresses. A special cheer went up for Tytus.. As he ran his huge, twelve inch cock swung from side to side, slapping his thighs, beating time to his lumbering, terror-stricken flight. Ariana was after him, her tanned limbs covering the ground in smooth, effortless strides, her hair flowing behind her as she chased down her prey. She caught him at the edge of the arena, pinning the quaking male warrior against the wooden wall with the tip of her sword to the man's throat. Gleefully the girl reached between the helpless man's legs and lifted up his enormous cock. "Hard-on, hard-on..." chanted the crowd as the girl sensuously teased the man's massive member into an enormous erection. "Beautiful," purred Ariana, wide-eyed at the sight of his magnificent organ. "The most virile of men, slain by little me ! At least you die with a hard-on!" She drove her sword into the young man's throat. As she did so, his mighty male cock heaved under her female fingers, and spurted sperm high into the air. Then, as the crowd roared their delight, the man fell at her feet, another male soldier killed by a girl. Around the pile of swords, male bodies lay in bloody heaps where, in their panic to retrieve their weapons, they had made themselves easy targets for the lithe young girls who had cut them down. When there were no men left standing, the girls worked their way through the bodies, finishing off the severely wounded men and bringing those who could still walk to the space in front of the royal box. There they were forced to get down on their knees, about three feet apart from each other, in a line in front of the Emperor. Tania brought in Paulus, who wasn't wounded at all. The girl made the crowd applaud with delight when she forced her mighty male prisoner to march across the arena with his hands on his head, smacking his buttocks with the flat of her sword to encourage his progress while his cock bounced up and down with every muscle-rippling step. Tania made him stand with his legs apart in front of the line of beaten men. While the crowd buzzed with expectation, a low, wooden chair was rushed into the arena and placed by the humiliated male warrior. A slave handed Tania a wooden implement, about eighteen inches long, with a short handle and a blade of about twelve inches long and four inches wide. What the spectators couldn't see were the numerous sharp copper studs protruding from the blade! The girl sat down, then summoned her terrified captive to lie over her thighs. Then she made him put one arm up behind his back. She grasped his wrist and held his huge body in position. Then she struck! "She's spanking him!" the Emperor goggled at the sight. "The girl's spanking my strongest warrior!" The spectators roared with laughter at the sight of the massive man being spanked like a naughty boy by the slip of a girl. Her arm was a blur as the girl laced into the man, smashing her paddle into his buttocks with studied ferocity. Male screams rang out as the studs ripped into the unfortunate man's flesh. His huge frame squirmed, his legs kicking as he tried to escape the girl's deadly punishment. But it was no use. She held him firmly by the wrist in a way which gave the man no leverage to use his enormous strength. Soon he began to beg for mercy, beseeching the girl stop hitting him. "He's completely broken now," said Flavia, stroking the emperor's tautened balls. "Would you like her to finish him off?" On the Emperor's signal, Tania let the man topple off her thighs to lie sobbing on the ground at her feet. A magnificently muscled male warrior completely emasculated by a beautiful teenage girl. Contemptuously, Tania put her foot on the man's neck in the time-honoured victory pose of the female over a defeated male, and raised her arms in triumph. The crowd roared their approval. Tania looked to the Emperor, who gave an emphatic 'thumbs down'! The girl settled herself on the man's broad back, wound her slender arms round his bull like neck in a choke hold, and squeezed! It was quickly over. The man, completely broken by the girl, could put up no resistance as she strangled him to death. She stood up, placed her smoothly curved legs astride the beautifully sculpted body of the man she'd destroyed and saluted the Emperor. The cheers of the crowd had barely died down when the remaining male prisoners were made to lie down at the feet of their girl captors, who promptly plunged their swords into the stricken men's throats. Cheers rang round the arena as the victorious young girls posed in victory over the bodies of the men they'd vanquished. A hundred of the finest male warriors in the Empire lay dead in the arena, slain by fifty young, teenage girls! "Who will guard me now?" whined the Emperor, after he'd recovered from yet another ejaculation brought on by the spectacle of female subjugation of the male and Flavia's skilful fingers! "Your girls have slaughtered all my lovely Guardsmen!" "Watch," ordered Flavia. At her signal, a swarm of girls ran into the arena, carrying accoutrements. In no time at all, the victorious girl warriors were dressed in bronze breast plates and Praetorian Guard helmets. Studded leather belts circled the girls' slender waists, and their swords hung in scabbards at their sides. The girls smartly formed two ranks, and at a signal from Flavia, saluted the Emperor and shouted, "Long live Claudius!" "There," said Flavia. "You don't have guardsmen any more. Now you have a Guard of Girls!" 'And I,' she thought, 'have you even more under my control than I had before!"