The huge hulk of a woman, disheveled blonde hair plastered to her slab-like face
with sweat, stepped forward for the kill, hammering fists in quick succession
deep into her slighter opponent’s breasts, forcing her back against the ship’s
gunwale. Dominant from the beginning of the contest, far outweighing a woman
weakened by thirst, hunger and beatings from her pirate captors, a harsh
backhand to a once beautiful, now merely bloody face, spun its victim completely
around, so that her upper torso bent over the wooden railing, heavily glazed
eyes staring resignedly into the sea beneath her. The end was near.

But the big woman was not to be denied her final moment of sweet victory, and
having drawn first, and nearly continual blood, was reluctant to see the contest
end as her defeated quarry, denying her the final sensual pleasure of victory,
simply fell overboard. The Gaul wanted more of the Roman decurio’s body, wanted
to hurt it, wanted a mouth full of Latin pussy, before she confided it to the
depths of the sea...and now was not the time.

So, following two savage fists into the smaller blonde’s lower back and kidneys,
a large paw went around the nearly unconscious woman’s neck and she was wrenched
back aboard ship, her destroyed body collapsing limply into a heap at her
victor’s feet. A final brutal kick between the Roman woman’s sweat-sheathed,
sinewy legs…a final gasp of pain mixed with indignation and humiliation…and it
was over.

The victor raised her meaty, clubbing arms in victory, opening a nearly
toothless mouth in a shout of throaty, triumphant victory. In response to a
salute from the ship’s captain, she sauntered towards her appreciative audience
who had witnessed still another victory of the strongest woman in Gaul over a
less than worthy opponent.

Perhaps tomorrow would be another story: the Greek bitch still chained below
looked more powerful and dangerous than this Roman cunt, but for now a drunken
orgy ensued, as two slave rowers dragged the defeated woman’s carcass over to
the rack amidships, strapping wrists and ankles to the teak grating. Now the
nearly unconscious Roman, flocked with her own blood and spittle, would be
available for the pleasure of any Cilician pirate tired of the more abundant,
fleshy pleasures of the victor from Gaul…or wanting to sample some patrician
meat while some life still remained within the battered frame of the blonde
decurio.

For the pirate crew, at sea for months, strong women fighting to the death…or
for something else…were all in a day’s work!

II
She awoke drenched in sweat. The thin chemise was transparent with wet, the
darkness of her flesh showing in patches through the cloth. Her skin pulsed
with heat, waves of smothering warmth flowing over her like melted candle wax.

Unchained in preparation for today’s contest, she swung her legs over the side
of the bed and stood up, feeling dizzy and disembodied. Her hair was soaked,
neck slick with perspiration, a trickle of sweat running between her large
breasts, disappearing in the dark thatch below her belly. “The Gods, it was
hot…and today, in this heat, she would have to fight for her owner…and lover.
Just great! And if she refused: Almost certain death, slow and painful!”

Stripping off her wet shift, she sighed in relief as the night air wafted
through the three-decked trireme, caressing her bare legs. Urgent for the
further coolness topside, she stripped and sighed in relief as the draft skimmed
upward over hips, breasts and arms as she made her way up the ladder out of the
aft hold. “So what if these damn Cilician pirates saw her naked. They would
anyway, once today’s battle was joined with that big bitch from Gaul they had
captured before her own vessel was taken within sight of Malta.”

“What luck! And to think all her efforts would be to briefly save her owner’s
life from these wretches from the bowels of Anatolia. They would keep her, as a
Greek, for their insatiable physical appetites. But Callisto was another story:
Rome was the enemy. She would be dead, regardless of the fight’s outcome,
before the next sunrise!”

For the pirates feared the Empire as much as they hated it. With Romans it was
kill…or be killed. Quarter was neither expected nor given, as Pompey the Great
had proven decades earlier, and today’s fight would signify only an early…or
prolonged…death for the female Roman decurio. It was only a matter of timing
and the degree of pain to be inflicted…and enjoyed by a score of pirates far
removed from the brothels of Tarsus, their homeport.

The heat was still there, hot waves pulsing over the Greek woman’s skin with
each heartbeat; her hair was limp and damp, barely stirring in the sea breeze.
But as she leaned naked against the ship’s gunwale, the down-hairs of her body
prickled pleasantly as her skin cooled. It was good to be away from that
Gods-forsaken Egypt…the omnipresent sand…searing sun…renegade priests and
devilish cults.

Of course, being a prisoner in the hold of this stinking sty of a trireme rowed
by dozens of slaves, was not the way she had expected to journey from Alexandria
to Rome, but primitive living conditions were mitigated somewhat by her no
longer having to serve at the whim of her owner, who frankly, could be a real
bitch at times!

Now, it was the thin, blonde Roman’s turn to be shackled, beaten and raped at
the whim of the pirate ship’s captain, and the well-built Thracian woman
warrior, temporarily free, whose wrestling skills were soon to be tested…and the
subject of much speculation amongst those with ill-gotten plunder to wager.

The prize for the winner of today’s wrestling match would be a night, alone,
with the Roman woman on her last night alive, without interference from the
pirate crew. And, if the prevailing winds permitted, freedom at their next port
of call, somewhere in the eastern Mediterranean.

Xena, once “Champion…” but now more commonly known as “Whore…of Rome,” intended
to win that victory, at whatever cost.

III
The Greek woman, hailing from the wilds of Thrace beyond the Macedonian border,
strode confidently on to the wooden deck aft of the mast, amidst a crowd of
barely clad, sunburned and unkempt, pirates and male rowers of the topmost rank
of the trireme. The crowd intently followed her movements as she went into
erotic stretching of her hamstrings, foot atop the outrigger gunwale, head bent
over and arms extended to touch her toes. Everyone noticed that she was as big
and buffed as any man on the ship. Yet her thick raven mane, streaked with
faint gray near her temples, and muscular curves gave her a sensuality that was
as feminine as it was powerful. She finished her routine, but as she turned
around to face her appreciative audience inboard, her opponent stepped aft from
the forward hold, diverting their attention.

Lothar was a tree-trunk of a woman, an unkempt, dirty southern Gaul from
Massila, captured aboard a merchant ship destined for the island of Rhodes,
where she was to have entered indentured service to a Greek shipping magnate.
But that life was gone now, and having spent months at sea with these Cilician
pirates, she had learned how to employ her strength and skills for an exciting
life, in more ways than one, with her captors.

As a wrestler, as a female fighter experienced in the arenas as well as the pits
of the westernmost parts of the Empire, she had no peer. And after nine
straight victories, none really closely fought contests, Lothar was clearly the
favorite of the crew. This sentiment was not necessarily shared by the chained
ranks of rowers below decks, many of which had been physically abused by the
huge Gaul in moments of intense, erotic passion…or in clubbing fights where they
had been helplessly beaten into submission for the entertainment of the captain
who enjoyed watching “his” woman beat up encumbered, half-starved men. Lothar,
clearly, derived sensual satisfaction from hurting people, male or female, and
no one expected today’s contest to end much differently than the others.

The Gaul was a hand taller than her Greek opponent and all could see she also
weighed considerably more. Unkempt, dirty blonde hair, crudely hacked off for
combat at the shoulders, dark brown eyes, and thick, hairy legs and arms,
encased in heavy, well oiled muscles, created a striking animalistic image on
the bleached ochre decks of the pirate ship.

Her obvious sexual presence and confident demeanor on deck spoke well to a
bright future; once she was done with this Greek cunt…and ravaged her Roman
bitch-owner again, Lothar intended to quench her inexhaustible sexual energy in
a refreshing bout with the pirate captain tonight.

Even while enjoying the company of powerful men, the Gaul felt an immediate
attraction to the statuesque Greek woman and she had to resist the temptation to
forget the fight and cup those dark, luscious breasts in her hands, grinding her
dripping pubic mound against that of her opponent! “Yes, they certainly birthed
beautiful specimens in the land of Achilles, Odysseus and other long lost
heroes!”

The sexual tension between the two women, one dark with an olive complexion, the
other blonde with fair, though heavily sunburned and coarse skin, was palpable,
even to the jaded men from below decks squinting in the noon day sun of the
eastern Mediterranean. And while it might at first glance look more like a case
of mutual lust than a fight between two adversaries pitted against one another
to the end, the naked Roman decurio, badly beaten and shackled brought home to
all, participants and spectators alike, what was at stake.

To add a particularly interesting, and crowd-pleasing aspect, the captain had
decreed that rather than a fight to where one contestant was unconscious and no
long able to defend herself, today’s wrestling match would allow verbal
submissions. If the Greek wrestler submitted, ten lashes with a cat-of-nine
tails would be inflicted on her hapless Roman owner. If, perchance, the favored
Gaul were to give her verbal submission, one shackle, either at wrist or ankle,
would be removed from the helpless Roman…she was not going anywhere…any way! As
before, the final winner of the match could do as she desired with the Roman
tonight, in any form or manner she desired.

Both wrestlers were initially wearing identical short white chemises, but after
saluting one another with a curt bow, they were discarded. Xena almost lost
focus when the stocky Gaul pulled her top over her head. "The Gods, she is
huge," the Greek woman thought, “and hairy!” As Lothar turned her back and
flexed powerful leg muscles in deep, stretching dips and knee bends, the Warrior
Princess, feeling a surge of hot lust, gave an almost imperceptible gasp of
pleasure. “I love my women…like my men…big…where it counts!”

Lothar turned slightly and smiled, fully aware, and appreciative that her
deliberate motions had had their desired effect on her opponent. The Gaul, in a
quick glance at Xena’s nude body, also took notice of the Greek’s strong, broad
shoulders and powerful arms and legs. Her stomach, with rigid abdominal
muscles, looked harder and more developed than the Gaul would have expected from
someone serving merely as retainer and sexual toy for the Roman decurio. “Guess
the blonde cunt is not much of a feeder, except when she’s being serviced by
this Greek whore!” she thought.

There was no formal signal for the contest to begin, only a slight nod and grunt
from the pirate captain. Both women approached the middle of the deck, briefly
touched fists in the manner of the Olympiad, and then stood back and cautiously
circled, uncertain of the strength or tactics of their opponent. Hands flicked
out seeking purchase, but found nothing. Then Lothar dived at Xena’s legs,
grabbed her by the ankles and took her down. The sand on the wooden deck of the
ship, put there to absorb the sweat and, hopefully, blood of the contestants,
puffed up in small billows as the Greek’s body impacted, but quickly the Warrior
Princess kicked her feet upwards, freeing herself from Lothar’s arms. Scrambling
to the side, the Greek woman gained her feet.

Both women continued looking for an opening, but none was forthcoming, and the
crowd grew restless. Such sentiment bode ill for one, if not both women, and
desiring to know just how strong Lothar was, Xena offered her hand in a test of
strength. The Gaul understood the gesture and eagerly accepted; this would give
the crowd a taste of what was in store when combat was finally joined in
earnest.

The women warriors interlocked fingers slowly, and simultaneous grunts erupted
as they applied pressure. Arms stretching high overhead, legs trembling with
exertion, the two sought an advantageous position from which to force the
other's wrists back. They wavered side-to-side trying to get a dominant grip and
use their shoulders to force the other to her knees. But neither gave way and
they continued a slow, painful dance, looking one another in the eyes as they
maintained their balance on the gently rolling trireme.

Slowly Lothar started to gain advantage as the Greek woman’s wrists began to
curl back towards her biceps. Xena tried to keep her stance, but was being
forced to her knees. Suddenly she surged upward, jerking Lothar towards her.
Breaking fingers free as both bodies collided, the Thracian wrestler attempted
to encircle the tree-like waist of her opponent, but Lothar, sensing the ploy,
escaped with a downward hammering blow to the Greek’s shoulders.

Lothar immediately sought to regain the initiative, diving at Xena’s waist and
dragging her to the deck. The Gaul was on top, quickly moving her arms toward
Xena’s head. She rolled the Greek woman to her side and applied a headlock.

Xena was not prepared for the power in her opponent’s arms. Her face turned red
as she waited for the initial burst of strength to subside. Lothar squeezed and
kept full pressure on before her arms relaxed. With Xena groggy, the massive
Gaul flipped her over and came down full force on the Greek’s belly, maintaining
both the hold and control of the situation.

Lothar was enjoying herself: “This one would be as easy as the Roman bitch I
fucked up yesterday, and so much more dark pussy to eat afterwards!” she
thought.

Xena's hands searched for something to grab; she was on her back with no
leverage and sought a way to move her adversary off. Lothar continued to press
and would alternate squeezes with periods of rest, all the while maintaining
perfect body control.

Increasingly desperate, Xena finally was able to grab Lothar's chin. The Greek
wrestler shifted her head position, relieving much of the pressure and worked
her way up off her back. She gained her knees, then forced her opponent to her
feet while still bent over. The raven-haired wrestler grabbed the scraggly
blonde behind the knees and lifted her off the ground. With the headlock still
being held, Xena had only one option to break the hold. She fell backwards,
driving the Gaul down on the unyielding deck. The jarring impact loosened the
hold and its victim escaped.

Xena, rapidly seizing the advantage dove on the prone Lothar who was in the
process of getting to her feet. The Greek wrestler forced her over on her
stomach, snaking her arms under Lothar's armpits and behind her neck. She
attempted to roll the huge Gaul out of position, working her legs around the
Gaul’s ample waist, but Lothar countered by placing her arms between Xena's legs
and her own waist.

The Thracian was feeling acute strain on her legs. “The Gods, this bitch’s
waist was big!” She knew she was in trouble as Lothar worked her way around so
Xena, still holding her legs firm, was again on her back. Lothar gained her
knees. Xena tried to shift her weight and force her down again, but instead,
Lothar flipped her opponent on her stomach. With a sudden burst Xena released,
spun out, stood, and reached for Lothar's head, catching her chin with both
hands.

As Lothar began to arch and get to her feet, she felt a sharp knee in her lower
back. Once on her feet, Lothar worked her hands across Xena's wrists and began
to break the chin lock. Xena released an arm, which Lothar grabbed and flipped
the Thracian wrestler to the ground, crushing down with her full weight on her
opponent’s body.

The victim of this counter let go a gasping, muffled cough. Xena was in pain as
her ribs had taken the brunt of the giant’s fall: “Probably cracked at least
two!” she thought. Lothar sensed the hurt she had inflicted, grinned, licked
her thick lips, and wasted no time encircling the damaged rib cage with her
thick thighs. As the Gaul squeezed, Xena cried out in anguish. The Gaul
exploited her position by slipping arms under her opponent’s armpits and around
the back of her head. Now it was Xena who was ensnared in a traditional
submission hold.

With things going her way, Lothar smiled up at the pirate captain: “Just
another dumb cunt like all the others. Now, I will teach this Greek a wrestling
lesson!”

Lothar was clearly savoring the moment, shifting pressure points to increase and
prolong Xena’s agony; one minute the neck, then her large breasts, and finally
the damaged ribs. She rocked Xena back and forth, seeming to keep time with her
victim’s anguished groaning. The Thracian’s stomach was being mercilessly
squeezed her cracked ribs screaming in agony. More than one pirate, looking on
in lust hardly concealed by the short tunics they wore, thought, “What a woman!”

This painful cycle continued without ceasing until the Thracian wrestler,
recognizing the hopelessness of her situation, cried out, "I submit!" It was
barely audible over her panting gasps for air. The cat-of-nine tails cracked
hard against the Roman decurio’s back, a bubbling shriek heard immediately after
the sound of black leather knots cutting into pale white flesh.

Lothar grinned wickedly and applied another spurt of pressure before she
released the hold and kicked Xena away. “Oh well…she’s mine now…for as long as
that Roman meat stays alive on the rack!” she thought.

Xena's ribs burned in agony, the mere process of breathing, nearly bringing
tears to her eyes. But she knew she had to get up and walk to the gunwale, and
not show fear or concern to either her massive opponent…or the equally
treacherous pirate audience arrayed about the deck perimeter. Still, she knew
she was hurt, and a barely disguised limp and tender feeling in her sides
betrayed the extent to which she had been overwhelmed in losing this first fall.

The captain, guzzling wine from a goatskin bag, gestured impatiently with a free
hand for the struggle to resume. Xena moved slowly, almost wearily, the fight
momentarily out of her. Lothar snuck behind her, grabbed around the waist, and
lifted her off the deck in a bear hug. Her arms tightly grasped with her fists
lodged under the Greek’s ribcage, the Gaul sank the hold in.

Deep, intense pain was etched on Xena’s face as she desperately reached back for
Lothar's head, but the Gaul kept shifting to and fro, all the while digging her
fists beneath Xena's ribs. The ensnared raven-haired wrestler moaned, her body
contorted in agony. The crowd was a bit disappointed: Though their “favorite’s”
victory was expected, few had expected the contest to be over so suddenly, the
Gaul’s victory so easy, and so swift! Sadly, this contest seemed unlikely to be
much longer in duration than yesterday’s exhibition of female combat.

But amongst the contestants, such certainty was non-existent. Although Lothar
did not look intelligent, her appearance was deceiving. She had wrestled in and
out of the arena for years, and did not dismiss her opponent, while at a current
disadvantage, so easily. She knew she could not keep this Greek woman off the
ground indefinitely, and when she momentarily relaxed and Xena's feet were on
the ground, the Thracian twisted sharply to the left to alleviate the
excruciating pressure on her rib cage. Her new position allowed her to reach
back a second time, and this time she caught Lothar's short tresses in both
hands. Leveraging her position, jerking hard on her adversary’s hair and
thrusting her hip to the side, she flipped the Gaul over and landed atop of her.
But Lothar quickly rolled out from under her opponent’s smaller body and the two
kicked vainly at each other in frustration, crawling apart.

Lothar remained on her hands and knees but Xena, seeking to change the flow of
battle, was not going to let her escape uncontested. Diving at her head, she
forced Lothar to the ground as she sank in her own headlock, using powerful legs
to immobilize the Gaul’s arms.

Lothar rolled to the left, dragging Xena over with her. Sensing her
disadvantage, the Warrior Princess quickly broke the hold and stood upright.
“Clearly, this woman, whatever her personal appearance, was an experienced,
dangerous grappler,” she thought, as her opponent also gained her feet.
“Someone has trained her well!”

Now Lothar moved forward, more respecting of her opponent than at the onset of
this fight, seeking to catch Xena before she had time to formulate new tactics.
But the Warrior Princess had already decided to focus on one part of her
opponent’s anatomy, her neck, and she ducked under outstretched arms and grabbed
the Gaul around her thick waist. She grimaced in pain as ribcages came in
contact with one another, but that was the price of the arena, and lifting and
twisting at the same time, she brought the Gaul crashing to the ground.

The Thracian, moving quickly to maintain the advantage, climbed on Lothar's
thick torso with her ass firmly planted on the blonde’s lower back. Xena's arms
were first around Lothar's chin, then slipping below, wrapped around the neck,
and she jerked backward. Now it was the Gaul’s face contorted in pain, her neck
muscles bulging and straining for release. Xena's biceps trembled with exertion
as she maintained the pressure and pulled back with all her strength.

Sensing her plight, and the intent of the hold, Lothar began working to her
knees. But expecting her opponent’s ploy, Xena half-raised herself, then slammed
back down on her opponent’s lower back, all the time keeping the embrace tightly
wrapped.

The Greek wrestler squeezed her muscles taut…bent even further back…ground down
with her ass on her opponent’s lower spine…and waited for submission. Lothar
tried to twist away; she needed to maneuver her hips to bear the brunt of this
powerful bitch’s attack.

But as she again raised her torso off the deck, Xena let her rise sufficiently
high to place her own powerful thighs around the Gaul’s hips. Lothar realized
too late her error, as the Greek moved quickly to lock her legs under her
opponent’s belly, and began squeezing the air out of her victim’s lungs. All
the while, the choking hold, now pressing the Gaul’s larynx into her windpipe,
showed no sign of remission.

Lothar’s gurgled cry of pain was cut off in mid-gasp as Xena drove two thumbs
into the Gaul’s throat and leaned so far back that she was nearly parallel with
her opponent’s pinioned legs, the Gaul’s torso bent at nearly a right angle to
the rest of her body.

"Submit?" Xena yelled, with a slight smile, as she fully comprehended her
opponent’s predicament.

Lothar waived her arms frantically, but only a bloody froth of bubbles emanated
from her mouth. That was good enough for the pirate captain. “The Gaul has
submitted! Release one strap!” he mumbled in a low voice.

Xena reluctantly relaxed the hold. Lothar slumped to the ground, pounding the
deck in both pain and embarrassment. Slowly she got up and sidled over to the
woven matting along the gunwale, massaging her neck, sucking in air, and
desperate for a respite before the action resumed. “The Gods, this Greek cunt
can fight!” she thought. “She is much more dangerous…and experienced…then I
would have thought…particularly for a mere slave. But Thracians do have a
reputation for cunning and treachery…at least in Gaul. I must end this
quickly.”

The reluctant signal from the pirate captain was repeated, this time more loudly
as a command… “a deal was a deal after all”… and the leather strap was released
from the decurio’s right wrist. In accomplishing this task, the helpless body
of the blonde woman spread-eagled on the rack was fondled and pinched by the
executor with the cat-of-nine tails. Such treatment did not go unnoticed, and
an appreciative audience laughed at Callisto’s plight, as she groaned and sagged
against the one remaining wrist strap.

Still smarting and somewhat embarrassed from her submission, but with newly
found respect for her opponent, Lothar moved away from the gunwale in a circular
motion, crouching forward in her wrestling stance and cautiously eyed her
adversary as she approached. Suddenly Xena charged directly across the deck,
screaming. Startled by the reckless attack, Lothar hesitated. Xena slammed her
shoulder into the Gaul's ample midsection and drove her backwards into the
gunwale.

The dirty blonde's lower back smashed into the wooden railing. Xena broke free
and drove three forceful punches into Lothar's right side. The Gaul groaned
after each shot, her body sagging. Xena quickly seized the advantage, spun
around, wrapped her arms around the Gaul's bowed head, then slid them down again
around the neck, and sank in the same strangling hold as before. Before the
Gaul could react, she was being dragged across the deck by her pinioned neck,
Xena's arm squeezing tightly, biceps bulging with power.

Walking the beam of the ship, the Warrior Princess rammed the Gaul's head
forward into the starboard gunwale. Lothar's head sank into her neck and she
let out a mournful gurgle as the muscles in her neck contracted. Xena then
turned around, dragged her athwartships and again smashed the top of the Gaul's
head into the port gunwale.

Lothar was breathing in tortured gasps, her forehead split open and bleeding
from the twin impacts. Xena’s tactics were becoming painfully evident to all
onlookers, as she dragged her victim amidships and smashed the Gaul's head, for
the third time, into the ship’s mast. Pulling her hapless opponent up, she then
drove the huge body down in to the deck, impacting face first. Lothar lay
nearly motionless, her pain wracked body trembling weakly with silent sobs of
agony, a growing pool of blood overwhelming the sand’s ability to absorb the
fruits of Xena’s labors.

The Gaul was nearly out of it, numb and oblivious to her surroundings. She was
unaware of her opponent’s close proximity as she struggled to a sitting
position, seeking to staunch the flow of blood into her eyes and mouth. Xena
stood closely to one side, large breasts swelled outward with exertion and
sexual stimulation. “The Gods, this was a great life if you did not weaken!”

The Thracian leaned down and went back to work. She grabbed hold of Lothar's
short-cropped, dirty-blonde hair and wrenched it, pulling her to her feet. The
Warrior Princess grabbed hold of her wrist, took two quick steps back for
additional leverage, and hurled Lothar forward, sending her stumbling towards
the port gunwale. Impacting the wooden railing that sagged under her weight,
the Gaul momentarily drooped over the side of the ship, before painfully rising
and turning to face her dominant adversary striding aggressively across the open
deck.

Xena drove her hands forward, again wrapping them around the Gaul's throat. The
Warrior Princess spun on her left heel and drove her right knee into the
blonde’s torso, slamming her thick waist again against the railing, driving the
top half of her body back out over the deck edge.

Lothar's back arched over into a “U” as her head was forced back and downwards
toward the sea. Her belly curved outward in front of her, arched leeringly,
ripe for attack. Xena continued to press the Gaul's neck downward with her left
hand, but released her right hand, pulled back, and delivered a clenched fist
deep into Lothar's furry groin. Answering the shock of the low blow, the Gaul's
head rebounded inside the ship’s perimeter and she doubled over, as Xena broke
the hold, stood back, and with a slight smile, muttered, “The bigger they
are…the harder they fall!”

Lothar sank to her knees, trying to recover from the choke and devastating blow
to her pussy. She remained hunched over, coughing, and sucking in desperately
needed air, as Xena approached. The triumphant Greek wrestler again wrapped her
arms around Lothar's bowed head, slid to the chafed and beet red neck, and
slowly pulling the semi-conscious dirty blonde off the deck.

Lothar reluctantly drew herself upward, struggling to relieve the acute pressure
on her neck. She could feel herself growing dizzy and realized that if she did
not counter this choking embrace, she would slump into unconsciousness and
whatever else might befall her helpless body. Desperate, she looked down and
noticed Xena's feet.

Seeking more time for recovery, she quickly lifted her right leg into the air
and slammed her foot downward, driving her heel hard into Xena’s right arch.
The Greek wrestler cried out and released the strangling hold on Lothar’s neck,
taking weight off her injured foot. Lothar, still focused downward, quickly
stomped down on Xena's other foot, this time holding her heel in place for a few
seconds as she put her full body weight into a twisting motion atop the trapped
limb.

Xena cried out again in pain, both feet now throbbing. She limped towards the
starboard gunwale and leaned against it, massaging her wounded feet. But Lothar
was not deceived, and knew the respite was only temporary; the pain would
rapidly dissipate…besides this Greek bitch clearly had a high tolerance for
pain…and Lothar would be in the same predicament again if she did not think
quickly of a new tactic to employ.

The Gaul was perspiring heavily now, her blood mixing with sweat to create a
dull red sheen over her upper torso. But at least the forehead bleeding had
slowed, and her desperate blows to Xena’s feet had given her pounded body,
particularly her ravaged throat, a chance to recover. As Lothar cleared her
head and breathing returned almost to normal, Xena approached to continue the
fight.

Lothar inhaled deeply and seeking to buy additional time, raised her arms in
front of her for another test of strength. But the Warrior Princess saw through
the gambit, and snorting in contempt, pivoted to her left and drove a glancing
right knee into Lothar's belly. The Gaul moaned and hunched over, surprised by
the quick attack, and its location. Xena wasted no time, however, and quickly
grabbing a handful of Lothar's scraggly hair, straightened her up for a beating.

But as Lothar rose, she drove a brutish right fist deep into Xena's groin. It
was now the overconfident Thracian’s turn to double over and clasp herself low.
“Payback is a bitch!” Lothar muttered, but was surprised when, in response, the
Greek woman drove her own powerful shot into Lothar's right side. The Gaul's
torso collapsed around Xena's fist as her body twisted painfully to the side.
Xena pulled her arm back to deliver another blow, but now Lothar was on to her,
and quickly retaliated by slamming her own knee into Xena's exposed belly.

Xena emitted a deep-throated grunt as her upper body fell forward, long hair
fanning wildly below her. Lothar took a deep breath and prepared for the
Greek’s expected counter attack, tightening her abdominal muscles.

Xena did not disappoint either her or the spectators who were entranced by
witnessing heavy body punching between two such powerful and buff women. The
Warrior Princess again drove a fist into Lothar's right side. The blonde was
now in agony and she knew that she could not take much more punishment. Like
her opponent’s, her rib cage was now in continued pain as Xena launched still
another blow into her side.

The Gaul sank to her knees, unaccustomed to such a prolonged beating. “Could
she actually defeat this Greek bitch that seemed to out think her at every
opportunity?” she thought. Both her sides were now convulsed with pain and she
could barely hold herself up. She needed to do something quickly, but realized
she was running out of time. Her abdominals could take the pounding; they had
suffered more from that Spanish whore in the arena in Massila last year, but
this Greek cunt was particularly skilled… “were not they all”…at placing blows
and wrestling holds in areas where she was more susceptible, particularly her
neck. She tried to straighten herself up, placing hands on the deck in front of
her and struggled to stand upright.

But her vulnerability and weakened condition were apparent to the surprised
crowd, who previously had thought their “champion” invincible. Further concern
for her fate seemed warranted as the Greek wrestler drove her right leg forward
and slammed the ball of her foot in to the Gaul's lower stomach. The huge
blonde fell back on her side, wrapped thick arms around her injured belly, and
rolled on the deck in abject pain.

Xena walked over and stood beside the agonized body. As she raised her right
foot in the air, Lothar desperately grabbed her left ankle, and wrenched it hard
to the right. The Thracian lost her balance and fell on her back, slamming hard
against the wooden deck. A sharp pain originated in her broken ribs, but quickly
shot up her spine as she rolled on to her side. The Gaul, still on the ground,
maintained hold of the foot, and began to twist it against the prostrate mass of
the Greek wrestler on the deck, seeking to break, or at least badly sprain, the
right ankle.

Xena flailed out and screamed, but Lothar was relentless, seeking to permanently
injure her opponent. She gained her knees; crouching down low, she grabbed the
Thracian’s other ankle. Using both for leverage, the Gaul pushed herself up on
to her feet, and still clutching Xena's ankles, flipped the Greek woman over on
her stomach, crossing her trapped legs.

Lothar put her own right leg over her opponent’s body, jumped into the air, and
thrust her legs out in front of her. Her full weight landed atop Xena's crossed
legs, smashing the Warrior Princess’s calves against the backs of her thighs.

Xena shrieked in pain…her knees felt as if they had been torn from her body.
Grinning in wicked satisfaction… “how she got off inflicting pain” … Lothar spun
atop her prostrate foe and while still sitting on Xena's damaged legs, grabbed
hold of the Greek woman’s arms, flailing helplessly at her side. She pulled
them back, lifting first Xena's head, then her upper body, off of the deck, the
Gaul grimacing as she reared back. Xena, contorted in unbearable pain, yelled
out louder and louder in increasing pitch from the agonizing hold. Her ample
breasts, jutted forward, erect in pain and the stimulation of close combat, were
lifted completely off of the deck as the Gaul continued pulling back.

Suddenly Lothar released her prey, dropping her upper body back to the deck as
she lifted herself off of the Greek’s tortured legs. The Warrior Princess
rolled over, moaning in agony, her limbs in tremendous pain.

The appreciative audience now applauded the change in the flow of the match, and
Lothar acknowledged murmurs of admiration and renewed support from the crowd.
Even without a verbal submission, it was clear the Gaul had taken another fall,
and on signal from the pirate captain, another ten lashes were laid across the
blood-furrowed back of the Roman decurio.

For her part, Lothar was unwilling to give her clearly dangerous opponent, even
if temporarily at a disadvantage, any break, and walking over to Xena, reached
down and grabbed her by the wrist, hauling her to her feet. The Thracian rose
sluggishly, gingerly pulling her ravaged legs beneath her as she was forced to
stand up. Her limbs wobbled as she struggled to support her own weight, her
plight further exacerbated as Lothar pushed her backward, slamming her against
the port gunwale. The Warrior Princess draped both arms over the wooden railing,
her still spasming legs barely able to support her own weight. The Gaul closed,
smashing her knee into Xena's right side. The raven-haired woman’s head slumped
forward, blood-laced spittle dropping to the wooden deck.

Lothar now drove a knee into Xena's left side, severely impacting the damaged
rib cage. The Greek wrestler’s head lolled sickeningly forward, long, black
hair covering a face ravaged in anguish. Lothar, seeing the effects of these
twin blows, now drove a hammering fist into Xena's right side, impacting
directly on several ribs that had already been cracked. As the Thracian
screamed aloud in renewed agony, her opponent yelled, “You fucking Greek
bitch…where is your precious Olympiad competitiveness now? Where are the Gods
you assholes believe watch out for you as they did at Troy? Face facts,
cunt…you were once Greek…but sold out. Now you are nothing but a Roman whore!”

The audience roared in laughter, slapping each other and applauding in delight:
“This huge Gaul woman was something else…and smart too! What a piece of work!”

In acknowledgment of their delight, Lothar renewed her attack, slamming another
ham fist into Xena's rib cage. The battered Thracian’s legs collapsed, only her
elbows draped over the railing holding her sagging body upright.

Lothar took a few steps back and caught her breath. Her confidence renewed, the
passion for seriously hurting her opponents had returned with the vision of the
drooping, bleeding Greek wrestler across the way now set up for the kill. “The
question is…do I do this quickly…or nice and slow…for my maximum enjoyment…as
well as entertainment for this pirate scum before who we are performing?”

Lothar, aside from her still stinging neck, was feeling very good about this
match. In fact, she was beginning to feel almost victorious. The cheers from
her admirers amongst the crew further energized her and with an exultant cry,
she charged forward jumping into the air as she approached the depleted Warrior
Princess. Her full mass smashed into her opponent’s body, impaling her lower
back on the wooden gunwale. The Gaul momentarily back off, then put her right
foot deep in to the Greek’s belly, grabbed hold of her shoulders, and fell
backwards. As the dirty blonde’s back hit the deck, she kicked her right leg
up, and flipped Xena’s body into the air and over her head.

Lothar jumped to her feet and raised both hands over her head in a victorious
gesture. This was one of her favorite moves…the spectators in Massila always
cheered when she employed it to finish a match…and it worked particularly well
on a hard surface. Her adversary now lay, totally disoriented and quivering in
pain, body shuddering, hair strewn wildly about, chest rising and falling
precipitously, fighting to retain consciousness.

With a triumphant twirl, the Gaul circled the deck, drinking in the renewed
cheering and reveling in the adoration of her admirers. In the center of the
deck, the vanquished Thracian woman slowly struggled to her knees, then stood
awkwardly, and painfully upright, trying desperately to get her bearings.

In the captain’s mind this was good enough for another submission…the Greek
bitch could scarcely figure out where she was, much less talk…so another ten
lashes were applied to the blood-ribboned back and hunched shoulders of the
decurio still tied to the rack by both ankles and one wrist.

Now there was a look in both women’s eyes, unseen by onlookers more interested
in erect, full breasts and sweat-sheathed, bloody thighs, that was impossible to
describe: a cold, hollow, glazed look, a feeling of close triumph and equally
near-defeat. Both women sensed that the preliminaries were done, and that much
more than just the fate of a woman flailed and bleeding on the rack was now to
be decided. Both Thracian and Gaul understood that this had become more than
just another wrestling match.

Lothar stopped her ceremonial tour, and began to slowly circle her opponent who
was once again standing straight in the center of the deck. Then surprisingly
given her physical condition, with a scream it was Xena who lunged forward,
seeking to regain the initiative. The Thracian buried her shoulder in Lothar’s
belly, driving her to the deck. She landed her full weight on the blonde’s
midriff, and the two wrapped their arms around each other, rolling about, both
attempting to gain control. The fatigue and weariness they had felt moments ago
was now replaced by an almost orgasmic rush as arms encircled stomachs, knees
drove into groins, and full breasts played against one another.

As Xena momentarily paused for breath, Lothar kicked free, and as her opponent
attempted to scurry away on all fours, the Gaul reacted by jumping on her back,
forcing her to her belly. She grabbed the Warrior Princess's right arm and
wrenched it back, twisting and digging her elbow into the bicep. With Xena
writhing in agony, the Gaul forced one leg under the Thracian’s stomach and
locked both powerful legs at the ankles, all the while maintaining her sharp
elbow grind into Xena’s upper arm.

On her back, squeezed between Lothar's thighs, Xena strained to turn her body to
ease the hold’s vicious effect on her damaged ribs. With breathing now coming
in short gasps, her right arm feeling as if it was being pulled from the
shoulder socket, she tried to block the pain from her midsection and get one arm
free, but to no avail.

Seeking to increase her leverage, Lothar momentarily released the pressure
around Xena's belly. The Greek wrestler took advantage of the opportunity to
shift her hips slightly and raise her body off the deck. Still in pain, but
desperate for release, she pulled Lothar toward her.

Xena grabbed a firm purchase in the sweat tangled blonde locks of her opponent’s
hair and jerked down hard, at the same time ramming the top of her head into the
Gaul’s nose. Sweat pouring from both women’s bodies, combined with the shock of
skull crunching nose, broke the Gaul’s hold. Both women fell back with the
release of entwined limbs, and the Thracian rolled clear of the encircling legs
of her opponent.

Again, by unspoken mutual consent, both women rose and began circling.
As before, it was Xena that seized the initiative, lunging at Lothar. This time
however, the dirty blonde anticipated the attack, and stepping aside, grabbed
Xena's wrist and wrenched it up behind her. The Greek wrestler gasped in pain
as she pawed at her shoulder. "Does this hurt honey?” Lothar jeered in her ear
as she drove the raven-haired woman’s arm up higher, bringing her fully erect
and standing on her toes to minimize the pain.

Xena tried to reach back with her other hand, but her adversary released and
quickly ran both hands under her armpits, up and over her shoulders, clasped
behind her neck, and snapped Xena's head down hard. Only a barely discernable
moan passed between the Greek’s lips as the again dominant blonde jerked down
with her clasped hands on the back of the Warrior Princess’s head, sending
excruciating pain down her neck and spine.

Now Lothar rocked back and lifted Xena off her feet. The Gaul fell forward and
drove her opponent hard to the deck, all the time the maintaining the hold.
Lothar straddled her stunned opponent, rolled to the side, and snaked her legs
around Xena's belly. The Greek wrestler looked bewildered at the rapid turn of
events, still barely able to respond after the harsh impact on the ship’s
unforgiving deck. Lothar squeezed her legs tightly, thigh and calve muscles
bold in relief, and shook Xena’s body as a lion might after a kill. The Warrior
Princess’s neck was numb and her injured ribs screamed out in pain under the
unrelenting pressure.

Except for the admiring expressions of the entranced onlookers, for whom seeing
two beautiful women in combat was almost too good a wet dream to be true, the
only sounds were the blonde's grunts and Xena's anguished moans. But then, as
if tiring of the game, Lothar suddenly relaxed the seemingly inescapable hold
and rolled away.

Uncertain as to what her opponent’s rationale was, the dazed and hurting
Thracian sluggishly got to her hands and knees, seeking to clear her head. But
Lothar pounced on the proffered back now off the deck, and quickly locked
muscular legs around Xena's head.

The now grinning and supremely confident dirty blonde rocked up off the deck
with her forearms and extending her arms and ridging her back, poured on the
pressure. The entrapped victim’s face turned red as she flailed away helplessly
at Lothar's thick thighs. After several hard blows seeking relief, the Gaul
yelled out more in frustration than pain, grabbed Xena by the hair, and
viciously pulled her opponent’s face into her taut ass.

With nose and mouth held firmly between Lothar's buttocks and her neck locked
tightly between massive thighs, Xena could not breath. She flailed her arms
frantically as the blonde laughed demonically and grabbed the Thracian’s dark
pubic bush with her free hand, viciously tearing at it.

The lustful shouts of the crowd told Lothar that the pirate audience was really
into the fight now, clearly enjoying the savage display before them,
particularly when their favorite was winning! "Kill her! Kill her!" some began
to rhythmically chant. The dominant blonde momentarily released her gasping
opponent while she pulled her legs up, rocking back heavily on Xena's breasts
and again covered the seemingly helpless woman's face with her huge ass.

Xena was motionless, spread-eagled underneath her opponent as
Lothar began grinding and bouncing mercilessly up-and-down on the Greek
wrestler’s face. Lothar shouted in delight as she dug sharpened nails into
Xena's pendulous breasts, confided and squeezed upward between her thick thighs.
Delighted and increasingly aroused, the huge Gaul raked her nails across her
victim’s extended nipples. Sensing the wetness growing between her legs, she
cried out in ecstasy, “The Gods I love this!”

Near orgasm and wanting to share her pending triumph, she rose off her victim’s
inert form and pulled the barely conscious body upward. Slipping behind Xena,
running thick arms under her armpits and around behind her neck, her hands
clasped at the base of the Greek woman’s neck. “Hi honey, I’m home” Lothar
cooed as she dragged the limp body of her opponent in front of the pirate
captain. The Thracian’s face was raw and red, a steady stream of drool and
blood draining from her gasping mouth. Her breasts and belly were beribboned
with savage claw marks, several having drawn blood.

An exultant Lothar lifted Xena clear of the deck, screamed “This slut’s for
you!” and released her opponent to slump, nearly inert, into a pile on the deck,
before the pirate captain. As he signaled for another ten lashes to be meted out
to the Roman decurio…still fun, but getting perhaps repetitious… Lothar felt
more alive with the thrill of victory…her body pulsing with power…than any time
since some particularly memorable encounters she had had back in her homeland.

It was time to end this fight she decided, time to enjoy the spoils of her win
before the Greek became too much-damaged goods! She’d have this dark cunt
tonight…and her little blonde bitch too! “The Glory of Greece my ass!” she
muttered, looked down in undisguised contempt at the woman splayed out below
her.

After two savage kicks to the head to still any attempted resistance, Lothar
dropped to her knees atop the Warrior Princess, placing knees either side of the
Greek woman’s damaged rib cage, entrapping her arms. Raising both her arms
above her head, the paralyzing blow intended to render her opponent unconscious
was already on its intended downward path, when the Greek woman, realizing the
fate that awaited her if it should strike, twisted desperately to her left, and
ferociously bridged her torso upward.

With the Gaul already leaning forward as her arms drove downward, the dramatic
shift in Xena’s body, upward and forward, was sufficient to pitch Lothar over
her head. With the ample, near-smothering flesh of her belly now atop Xena’s
face, the presented target was almost too easily exploited. Desperate times
called for desperate measures, and Xena was desperate. Opening her mouth as
wide as possible, the Warrior Princess’s teeth sank…deep…and hard…into Lothar’s
belly. The resultant scream of intense pain and shock surprised the onlookers,
in the process of celebrating their champion’s expectant victory, as much as the
victim. All had assumed this brutal contest to be all but over; Xena’s barbaric
tactic was as unseen and it was unexpected.

But the Greek woman’s experiences included brutal combat in animal pits on the
Silk Road, corrals in Britannia, and cisterns in Mogador, as well as more
refined locales such as arenas in Byzantium and Amphipolis. She knew what was
required to live…and win…and would do anything required for victory: the end
always justified whatever means she employed. More than one seemingly
victorious opponent had underestimated…to their ultimate demise…her will to
survive and win.

Now she wasted no time in exploiting the rapid turn in events. Rolling out from
under the Gaul’s body, now convulsing with both hands grasping at torn and
bleeding stomach muscles, Xena rose, nearly gagging, and spit out a mouthful of
bloody tissue and muscle. Even the pirate captain, ceasing his celebratory,
wine-laced revel, had to admit, “This Greek bitch has real balls!”

Regardless of her sexual orientation…and most onlookers did not care whether she
liked men, women, animals…none…or all three…they just wanted to fondle her
magnificent body…Xena, oblivious to the renewed lust of her captors, proceeded
to take maximum advantage of her situation, brutally kicking her opponent in the
side, rolling her over. Sensing an opportunity to win that would not present
itself again, Xena jumped with both feet on Lothar’s back, drove her down into
the deck, and squatted above her, shifting her ass down on her opponent’s waist.
Leaning forward, the Warrior Princess grabbed the Gaul under her chin, slipped
her biceps down over the previously ravaged throat, and reared back. “I was
close last time. Maybe this time I can bring it home!” she thought.

Slowly Lothar's head was forced up, regardless of her resistance. Her back
began to feel the strain, pressure and pain. With her belly screaming in agony,
and the attack renewed on her previously damaged neck, the Gaul cried out, as
much from frustration in a hard fought victory postponed as from actual pain.
Desperately she clawed at Xena hands and forearms, firmly wrapped around her
throat.

A gouge to her right eye resulted in Xena momentarily loosening her strangling
hold. It was only brief, but the experienced Gaul countered with a quick twist
out from under the Greek woman’s body, and the two women rolled apart. Slowly
standing, both contestants shook out their arms and legs. As Lothar closely
examined the deep wound in her stomach, Xena silently cursed herself for having
let her prey get away. Both women, as well as their appreciative audience,
sensed that the contest had to be quickly decided based on the physical
condition of both opponents; neither had much more to give.

Hands crossed foreheads to wipe sweat and blood from eyes, and the battle was
rejoined as both began circling one another, cautiously seeking an opening.
Both warriors sensed a change in tactics, as this contest, as evidenced by
Xena’s savage employment of her teeth, had moved from the Olympiad to the
streets and ‘hoods of the Empire.

But even in this new venue, it was Xena who again made the first move, launching
herself directly at Lothar. Rushing forward and smashing into her chest before
she could react, she bowled the Gaul over on her back. Attacking the woman
sprawled on the deck with a series of rapid-fire blows, chops and kicks, at one
point the Thracian had the stunned blonde stretched out, suffering under a
withering attack from one she had once thought thoroughly beaten. But then the
natural aggressiveness of the Gaul reasserted itself, and a quick foot strike
deep into the Greek’s belly rocked the Warrior Princess back, and Lothar rolled
over her own head, gained her knees, and stood.

Tentatively the Gaul made her way towards her equally cautious opponent. But
sensing another quick lunge and still favoring her deeply wounded belly, Lothar
nervously pulled away from the Warrior Princess who pursued her earnestly across
the deck. As Xena moved closer, the blonde woman quickly backpedaled, seeking
to avoid Xena's advances until an advantageous opportunity presented itself.

After a third lunge towards the suddenly elusive Gaul missed physical contact, a
frustrated Xena glared across the ring at her flighty counterpart and raising
both arms before her, openly challenged her opponent to a test of strength. It
was an offer the Gaul ignored at her own embarrassment, and as the pirate
audience stirred uneasily, both women locked up arms.

Xena stared into Lothar's eyes, seeking some sense of fear or concern. She saw
none…Lothar glared back, fearless and unafraid. Psychological ploys at an end,
Xena abruptly pivoted, raised her right thigh, and slammed her knee into
Lothar's grievously wounded midsection. The Gaul cried out in pain as her upper
body bent with the impact of the blow, her hands quickly moving to protect her
bleeding belly for an expected follow-up blow.

Instead, a clenched fist struck the right side of Lothar's neck. The Gaul’s
head snapped hard to the side in reaction, then lolled forward so that the chin
almost touched her upper chest. It was a stunning…and unexpected blow. Lothar
was nearly out on her feet.

Xena rammed her knee into Lothar's side, driving her knee bone into Lothar's
vulnerable rib cage. The Gaul groaned loudly as pain coursed through her body.
Xena again chopped her fist into Lothar's neck. Then, running one arm between
Lothar's legs while reaching over her shoulder with the other, she lifted the
Gaul off the deck. In an amazing display of strength, overcoming the continuing
pain coming from her own broken ribs, Xena turned Lothar over while dead-lifting
her body in front of the astonished onlookers her.

Now she charged aft, slamming Lothar's lower spine into the ship’s single mast.
She backed up a few steps, then charged forward, again ramming her opponent into
the hard cedar pole. She did this three more times, then strode to the center
of the deck, and threw her victim down. Lothar landed hard, rolled on to her
side and arched her back in agony, vainly trying to massage the wounded area
with one hand, while fending off her predator with the other.

Xena looked down at her foe and launched three sharp kicks into the blonde's
protruding, bleeding stomach. The Gaul groaned loudly and curled into a ball,
trying desperately to cover up her deep wound. Xena was not to be dissuaded,
however, and grabbing a handful of short tangled hair, the Thracian wrestler
hauled the Gaul to her feet and threw her across the deck, slamming against the
starboard gunwale.

Lothar's arms hung over the top railing as she drooped down from it. She was
overwhelmed by the quickness and forcefulness of Xena's assault, and trying
desperately to regain her wind. But Xena offered her little time as she strode
over, raised her leg into the air, and delivered a forceful kick to the center
of the Gaul's crimson belly. But rather than remove her foot quickly, Xena
pressed it further into the Gaul's abdominals, driving it deep into the bleeding
wound in her torso below the rib cage.

Lothar’s head lolled forward; she feared she was would be beaten to a bloody
pulp. But as the Greek woman continued the attack, the Gaul was able to quickly
push her arms off of the railing and grab Xena's embedded foot with both hands.
She tightened her grip, and then pushed the offending limb off to the side,
forcing it out of her stomach and holding it away from her. Lothar wrenched it
high upward, released her right hand, and drove a solid blow into Xena’s dark
pubic bush. A deep moan, eyes suddenly wide in shock, indicated the telling
strength of the shot. The Greek’s hands flew to her groin as she gasped in
renewed pain as another fist was driven home. Released by her suddenly
rejuvenated opponent, the Greek wrestler collapsed to the deck.

Although Lothar was still groggy, she had at least gotten Xena off of her
temporarily. As Xena gingerly pushed herself up on to her feet, still clutching
herself low, Lothar approached her adversary and wrapped a meaty arm around her
opponent's head. The dirty blonde tightened her grip, clamping tightly around
the raven tresses.

Lothar sunk in the hold, applying severe pressure to the Greek woman’s neck,
hoping to buy some time. The Gaul’s back was aching, her belly throbbing and
her neck stinging, but she hoped that by restraining Xena in a headlock for a
few moments she would have time to recover. The effect of the hold was evident
as the Greek swung her arms wildly around, hoping a chance blow to her winded
opponent might result in release.

Lothar took a deep breath while maintaining the headlock, successfully thwarting
Xena's repeated attempts to break the hold. The dirty blonde stepped forward,
leaped into the air and simultaneously thrust her legs out in front of her. The
Gaul landed in a sitting position on her ass, simultaneously smashing Xena's
face into the deck.

The Greek wrestler was temporarily paralyzed by the move, and Lothar took
advantage by rolling her over and placing both knees into the small of Xena's
back. The surprised onlookers cheered the skillful maneuver as Lothar,
seemingly recovered from her earlier mauling, sat perched atop her nemesis,
seemingly triumphant again.

The Gaul now moved slowly and deliberately, gradually leaning forward and
grabbing Xena's wrists, pulling them back to her sides. She then knelt upright
and pulled back. The Greek wrestler’s frame arched back in response as her
upper body was lifted clean off of the deck.

Xena's large chest jutted out in front of her, her face showing the acute strain
of the skillful wrestling hold. Lothar reared back, her arms trembling with the
strain, applying as much pressure as she could to Xena's back, arms and
shoulders. After a few moments she relaxed the grip, sending Xena collapsing
forward, her chest squashing against the wooden deck.

Lothar took a deep breath, leaned backward, and pulled Xena up again. The
Thracian's pendulous breasts again lifted off the deck as Lothar wrenched her
arms. The Gaul's whole body again began to tremble, the exertion on her face
obvious to the admiring spectators again confident of the final outcome of this
titanic struggle.

Lothar dropped Xena down, and then yanked her off the deck a third time. The
Greek's chest bounced again as she was peeled upward. Her olive-hued shoulders
curved behind her, screaming with pain, arm sockets feeling as if they were
being ripped from her body.

Finally, Lothar released the tension and relinquished the grip on her wrists.
The Gaul slowly slid off Xena's back and stood up, walking up toward her head.
The pirates were now openly cheering for Lothar as she looked down at her
prostrate foe.

The Gaul reached down and grabbed Xena by the hair and pulled her up. The Greek
wrestler slowly and painfully rose to one knee, but rallying, drove a stiff
right fist deep into the dirty blonde’s belly, striking the still bleeding open
wound again. Screaming out in pain, Lothar clutched her midriff and stumbled
backwards. Xena stood up.

As the Warrior Princess approached, Lothar waved both arms in a vain attempt to
keep her away. But the Greek wrestler snorted in disdain, seized the
windmilling arms of her opponent at the elbow and fell back, jerking her
opponent with her. As the two hit the deck, Xena quickly scrambled over the
large body, locking her muscular thighs around Lothar's head. The blonde was on
her knees, off balance, leaning forward, with her arms held out wide. Her neck
was bent upward at an awkward angle, with her nose securely wedged in Xena's
pussy.

A murmur of disquiet went through the stunned crowd. This fight was supposed to
be over, but the raven-haired Thracian was clearly pouring on the pressure to
their favorite’s previously savaged neck. Now, the only thing visible between
those magnificent, olive-hued thighs… “and what man present did not want to be
where Lothar was”…was the dirty blonde head bobbing frantically, searching for
air while securely buried in Xena's crotch. As the Gaul desperately tried to
turn her face, Xena suddenly released her hands, grabbed her head and twisted it
inward, forcing Lothar over on her back.

Xena grabbed her right ankle and wrenched the Gaul’s right leg upward, further
locking the gasping blonde into a brutal head scissors. Lothar desperately
gasped for air, as her face, then her entire upper body, turned crimson from
lack of air and the tremendous pressure being placed on her neck.

To further increase the strangling hold’s impact, Xena raised her upper torso on
her forearms, arched back, and further torqued the entrapped neck of her
adversary. Only a strangled gargle issued from the victim’s mouth as she
pounded frantically at the Greek warrior’s legs, desperately hoping a lucky blow
to her crotch might break or relax the brutal, strangling wrestling hold.

But instead, it was Xena, sensing the pirate captain was about to award her a
submission, who broke her thighs’ death-like grip on her own accord. Final
victory…not another submission…was what she was after now. She sensed her
strength and endurance slowly ebbing away. It was killing time!

Workmanlike now, Xena released her gasping opponent, stood, and in a rush of
adrenaline, reached between Lothar's legs and under her arms and dead-lifted the
huge body over her head. The pirates were stunned as they watched the
magnificent demonstration of overt female power before them. The Greek warrior
woman…fully extended…her nude body swollen in power and magnificent in its sweat
and blood stained hauteur…holding her helpless victim in the air…now there was a
vision fit for the Olympian Gods themselves!

And then the vision vanished…as the Warrior Princess released her victim,
quickly knelt, and took the dead weight of the Gaul fully on her extended right
thigh and knee.

Lothar's scream of acute, searing pain as she hit the hardness of the Greek
warrior’s leg caused even the most bloodthirsty spectator to blanche in
sympathy; the victor now seemed decided, only the degree of torture to be
inflicted before the fight was stopped remained to be determined.

With the blonde draped over her knee, Xena pushed down steadily on Lothar's neck
with one hand, while the other hand slid down the dirty blonde’s blood-sheathed
stomach, straight into her scruffy pubic thatch.

Xena pressed down hard on the backbreaking hold with one hand, while ramming her
middle finger deep into the blonde’s bushy cunt. The trapped Gaul kicked and
screamed like a wild woman. Finally, as Xena grabbed a handful of pussy hair
and yanked, Lothar's balled up fist reflexively jerked up and slammed into the
Warrior Princess's nose. Stunned, Xena grabbed her face with both hands as
Lothar slumped off her knee.

The weakened blonde tried to roll away, unable to even get to her knees. Xena
was sitting cross-legged on the deck, holding her nose, blowing the blood out of
her nostrils, and shaking her head. But the Gaul was too far spent to take
advantage. Xena rose, approached her victim, and flopped down on the deck
beside her. A quick blow to the side, the brutalized chest raised slightly off
the deck, and the Greek wrestler again locked her legs around Lothar’s head.

The Gaul, even through all her pain, was experienced enough to recognize
endgame. Hoping against hope, she kicked and humped wildly, scrambling at the
raven-haired woman’s groin and ass with both her hands, tearing and squeezing in
a futile attempt to break free. Both women were now on to their sides but few
in the audience now doubted the final outcome of their prolonged struggle.
Slowly, the Gaul’s blows diminished in intensity in strength. Finally, they
ceased all together. Lothar was totally spent, her strength gone.

Xena released her hold, hauled her adversary to her feet, raised her left hand
and dug her fingers into Lothar's right shoulder. With her right hand she then
drove three uppercuts into the gaping wound in Lothar's belly.

But the Warrior Princess was not done…there would be no more chances for
rejuvenation in this battle…no intercession by the pirate captain to give his
favorite another chance to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat. Extending
the fingers on her left hand, she sent a vicious chop into the exposed right
side of Lothar's neck. Lothar grunted as her head bobbed to the right. Xena,
warming to what was clearly becoming mere body work for her, cocked her arm and
delivered three more powerful uppercuts into Lothar's left side. She then
unfurled another chop into the right side of Lothar's neck, causing the blonde
woman to fall forward, her head resting on her opponent’s left shoulder.

Lothar's whole body swayed, remaining upright only because Xena was carrying the
entire load. Content to do so, at least for the moment, the Greek wrestler drew
her arm back and unleashed a brutal uppercut into Lothar's left side. Xena
shrugged her shoulders and the nearly comatose Gaul slipped off, falling to her
knees. The Greek wrestler thrust her left arm out in front, bent it at the
elbow and plunged downward, driving the hard point into the soft skin where the
Gaul’s head and shoulder met. The dirty blonde's head collapsed to the right
and her body crashed to the deck.

She remained motionless as Xena menacingly stood over her, legs braced and knees
flexed for further combat, right arm cocked, teeth barred, glaring down at her
body. The Warrior Princess waited for the Gaul to move, but Lothar remained
face down, motionless, her arms splayed out haplessly.

To insure the fight was really finished, her opponent destroyed, Xena walked
triumphantly down the Gaul’s side and sent a vicious kick into her rib cage.
There was no response. The Thracian walked to her legs, kicked them wide apart,
and drove another foot into the Gaul’s pussy. Again, no response. Satisfied,
Xena raised clenched hands over her head in a victorious pose as the pirates
silently glared, their champion, seemingly on the verge of victory, destroyed
before their very eyes.

Ignoring the crowd’s barely concealed hostility at the fight’s outcome, Xena
turned away, leaving Lothar sprawled on the deck. The pirate captain rose from
his seat and approached the unconscious woman as the Cilician who had wielded
the cat-of-nine tails with such evident pleasure untied the remaining ankle and
wrist bindings of the Roman decurio.

As Callisto’s body slumped limply to the deck, the pirates accepted the reality
that their “champion” had lost, and crowded, loudly cursing at and spitting on,
the prostrate form of Lothar. As Xena dragged the spoils of her victory away
from the scene, her lover’s once shining blonde hair dampened with clots of
dried blood, lewd laughter and derisive gestures accompanied low female groans
as the crew took advantage of the vanquished Gaul to satisfy their own cravings
on this once proud, but now defeated and humiliated giantess.

“Yes, she was a fucking bitch!” Xena muttered, but looking at the disgusting
scene being played out before her, added only to herself, “but she did not
deserve this!” Regardless, her fight…at least for now, was over…and she eased
Callisto’s beaten body down the ladder into the ship’s fetid hold.

“Well, one down…one to go…and this one better be more fun!” she thought, as she
lifted the limp body of her former owner on to her own bed.

IV
The woman lay naked, her white skin a stark contrast against the blood-stained
sheets beneath her. Thin strands of cord stretched tautly from each bedpost to
the loops encircling her wrists and ankles, holding her trim, lithe body
spread-eagled. Golden hair, now washed, lay like a halo about her sharply
chiseled face, firm pale breasts swelling upward from her chest, rising and
falling slowly. The shallow concave bowl of her stomach lay like a soft
depression above the shining tangle of yellow hair covering her groin. Only her
nipples, pointing stiffly toward the compartment’s overhead, betrayed the
feeling of erotic anticipation animating her lithe frame.

A sharp slap on bare thigh brought the dark black eyes snapping open. She
turned her head to look at the woman standing above her. "Now that I have your
attention,” the raven-haired woman whispered seductively.

A vine cane, or vitis, marking both the rank of a Roman centurion and a
convenient means to inflict punishment, dangled causally from her right hand,
brushing against an already reddening mark on the light skin of the securely
bound woman below her.

"Oh Callisto, how I have longed to be in this position.” Instantly the dark
haired woman's wrist flicked once, sending her vitis slapping down on the tautly
stretched skin of the bound woman’s belly.

The blonde looked up at the dark-complexioned woman above her, wide black eyes
wet with growing hunger…and thankfulness. Her gaze eagerly drank in the
powerful woman's body, each sensuous curve coursing into another. Even in the
dim cabin light, the scars and wounds of today’s battle were clearly evident.
Callisto opened her moth to express her appreciation…she fully understood the
depths of Xena’s sacrifice for her…but the vitis spoke first…and smarting with
pain, this time inflicted on both breasts, she closed her mouth and said
nothing. The Warrior Princess obviously had something other than grateful
utterances in mind!

"Do you understand the spoils of my victory?" the dark haired woman hissed, “I
now own you…at least for this night! Do you understand?” she repeated.

"Yes, Xena, I do," Callisto said quietly, a slight tremble in her voice, adding
silently to herself, “No sense arguing with a bitch when she is in heat!”

Xena's full, pouting lips twisted in a half smile, half sneer as she looked down
into the panting blonde’s hungry eyes. “The Gods, even with all their past
history…throughout the arenas, animal pens and various shit holes in the Empire,
there was still something about this blonde bitch that gave her the itch between
her thighs,” she thought. “Now…at least…she is mine…to pleasure me as I
desire.”

Xena dangled the vitis over the tautly stretched skin of Callisto's belly,
skillfully dancing its tip across her lover’s skin, making the muscles beneath
jump and twitch uncontrollably.

"You like my new toy," she observed.

"Oh yes!" Callisto breathed, her body stiffening in response to the warm glow
radiating in slow waves from her groin.

The vitis whistled again, slapping the soft white skin just below Callisto's
left breast.

"That wasn't a question, bitch," she said angrily, deftly landing a second
harder blow on the blonde woman's right thigh.

Callisto's breath caught in her throat, the pain shooting from her thigh,
melding with the growing fire in her loins. Gazing up at her tormentor…and
savior…she nodded her understanding.

Xena again walked the vitis over Callisto's pale flesh, also scarred but at
least now bathed and for the most part cleaned up. The blood, sweat and tears
of today’s events did not belong in tonight’s bordello. Gently, she brushed the
wooden rod lightly against the golden fur of Callisto's pussy, sending sensuous
ripples coursing through the bound woman’s frame. As droplets of moisture
appeared in the course blonde hair, the Greek woman again slapped the vitis
smartly across the shining alabaster skin of one thigh, drawing a deep gasp from
the writhing woman as pain…but this time a good kind of pain…mixed inseparably
with pleasure.

Carefully gauging her captive’s mounting arousal, Xena skillfully alternated
gentle caresses with sharp strikes, driving Callisto's flushed, trembling body
closer and closer to ecstasy.

Xena gingerly raised her sore right leg… “What a fight!” she thought…then rested
it on the edge of the berth that held tonight’s dinner. The movement revealed
the sinuous ripples of muscle beneath the shining olive skin of Xena's thighs as
she pivoted above Callisto and straddled the bound woman's slim hips. A light
sheen of sweat now covered the moaning blonde’s alabaster skin, marked here and
there with parallel rows of light red lines, marks of the cat-of-nine tails, or
new furrows where her raven-haired lover had plied the vitis.

Xena began slowly brushing her long hair over the panting woman's helpless body,
to caress the shallow valley of her trembling belly, and entwine about the
mounds of her pale breasts. Her raven tresses explored the gently undulating
shape of Callisto's vulnerable body; excitement began welling within Xena's
powerful frame.

Lost in the sweet agony of pain heightened pleasure coursing through her tensely
aroused body, Callisto fought the growing urge to open her mouth and beg her
lover for release. Every inch of her frame yearned insistently for her touch;
her skin tingled where her lover's muscular thighs rested atop her narrow hips.
An achingly intense sensation filled her lower belly, pulsating with every
stroke and slap of the vitis. Callisto longed to wrap her tightly bound limbs
around Xena's athletic frame and crush their bodies together until they melted
into a single whole.

The cords keeping the blonde bound to the bed tensed as her body surged upwards
towards Xena's frame, now hovering above her. Callisto's body shook
uncontrollably, her anticipation mounting as Xena cupped the back of her head
and lowered her face. Callisto stared, transfixed, into blue, fathomless eyes.
Finally, the Greek woman’s sensuous mouth lightly caressed her own lust-swollen
lips and the lithe blonde exulted inwardly, confident that exploding release
from her sensual torture would be soon.

The fire spread throughout her lower belly, sending erotic pulses coursing
through her body, making it tremble with frustrated desire. "Please!" she
moaned.

The pressure on the lithe woman's upper chest increased as her dark haired lover
leaned down until sensuous red lips were again tantalizingly close. Callisto's
flushed skin delicately tickled the raven-haired wrestler’s swollen,
battle-scarred nipples.

Xena exulted inwardly, realizing she had won two victories today. The first,
over the Gaul now being savaged by a very unhappy pirate crew two decks above
her…and now…she had complete control over the blonde bitch who had owned her…but
now lay helpless…lusting for pussy…beneath her!

Hovering above her, she stretched her stiff.…. “the Gods, that was some fight!”…
heavily muscled arms up until they rested on the knots securing the cords to the
iron rings on the compartment’s bulkhead. "Now it is I who own you," she said
breathlessly, “and, lover…trust me…payback is not always a bitch…just
sometimes!”

Xena's arm jerked and Callisto's left hand was suddenly free as the binding
cords fell from her wrists. In a lust-befogged daze, the Roman decurio stared
uncomprehendingly up at her lover, and then with an appreciatory growl she threw
her lithe arms around Xena's shoulders, urgently drawing their bodies against
each other. Lips crushed together in a punishing kiss as both woman’s frames
shuddered uncontrollably, tremors of pleasure rippling through them.

Callisto's barely stifled moan spiraled downward into inaudibility as her lover
worked a long, thick finger between her thighs. The blonde's lithe frame
thrashed uncontrollably beneath the sweet pressure…and physical presence…of her
former slave’s body. Bolts of pleasure coursed through her form, shattering her
consciousness into brilliant bursts of ecstasy.

As a soft moan again escaped Callisto’s lips clamped against the dark skin of
her lover's neck, Xena slipped a second finger into the shuddering blonde,
setting off another shattering tremor that made the sweat soaked body beneath
her writhe and shake wildly. The smaller woman's fingers kneaded the taut flesh
of Xena's firm buttocks, sending ripples of fire shuddering through the Greek’s
well-muscled body.

Another wave of ecstasy overwhelmed both women, now oblivious to shouts and
cries of surprise, alarm and increasing despair as, two decks above, surprised
men looked up from their continued debauchery to see a Roman three-decked
trireme on constant bearing, decreasing range.

Callisto’s mouth opened wide in a voiceless shriek of intense pleasure as the
deck catapults at the rails of the Roman galley spit flaming bundles of oil
soaked rags over the rapidly narrowing distance separating the two ships.

The blonde's body spasmed beneath her dark lover’s muscular frame as the Roman
ram penetrated the pirate ship amidships, collapsing the second and first tier
rowers into the ship’s bilge, to die a slow death from fire spreading below or
sea water filling the doomed ship’s shattered hold.

Firm, alabaster breasts crushed against large, olive-hued globes, stomachs
slapped wetly together in increasingly urgent rhythm as the Roman galley,
backing down, withdrew its ram, spun in its own wake, and smashed the pirate
galley’s oars into kindling as it drew alongside.

The blonde woman's clawed hands drew damp furrows on dark skin across her
lover's powerful back as Roman archers’ arrows found ample targets on the main
deck.

Xena's thoroughly aroused body shuddered deliciously as the sweetly aching
pressure in her loins incessantly throbbed. She carefully arched her powerful
body and reached back to untie Callisto's legs; it was her turn to be on the
bottom. She was Greek…and nothing but democratic…as long as she got another
turn!

But her efforts were interrupted by a tremendous shock as the keel of the pirate
ship broke in two. Within moments the wooden deck, scene of the fight between
two warrior women just hours earlier, was awash, the mast aflame and toppling
into the Mediterranean.

The rapid spreading of the fire, along with the poor price pirates fetched in
any Empire slave market, convinced the Roman commander to sever the grappling
lines initially put over. He was content to allow those not already dead to
simply drown, including the helpless, still-chained rowers screaming for release
as the ship broke apart.

Besides, procedures for recovering, and then crucifying the pirate crew on the
nearby island of Malta, were laborious at best, a damned nuisance of scrollwork
best left to clerks ashore…and certainly not worth a night’s lost liberty in
Alexandria.

So the Roman trireme, part of the Eastern Fleet chartered by the Senate to
police piracy in the Empire, pulled away from burning debris and human flotsam,
and set course for Egypt, leaving scores of men…and three women…to desperately
fight for life on a wine dark sea.