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Charmed/Conan The Barbarian:
Part 1 - Phoebe's Ancient Tales Of Barbaric Lust
(MF,Mf,FF,F-gang,inc,oral,exhib,cons,ncon)
by ErosTrek ([email protected])

Prue, Phoebe and Piper stood before the ghostly apparition in their attic.
All three of them smiled lovingly at the translucent figure of a woman.

"Hi Grams" Piper said as the apparition looked at them.

"Hello my little Piper. Phoebe. Prue."

The other two sisters nodded at their grandmother, Penny Halliwell, their
eyes tearing up a little bit as they always did when they summoned her
spirit.

"We need your help" Prue the eldest of the Charmed Ones spoke, "we've been
attacked by a demon and our powers had very little effect on him. We've gone
through the Book of Shadows but we can't find anything on him."

"Describe him."

"Well, he was tall, dark skin, thick neck ... " Prue began

"... black eyes with a vertical slit ..." Piper added

"... and he hissed a lot when he spoke, like a snake ..." Phoebe finished.

Penny Halliwell's ghostly image seemed to fade a little as if a part of her
was somewhere else then she was back with them.

"That's not good, not good at all" she shook her head slowly and sighed "did
you see some sort of emblem or insignia on his clothing?"

"Yeah, just before Leo orbed us to safety I caught a glimpse of his robe and
there was some sort of design with two snake heads facing towards each
other."

Penny Halliwell sighed and shook her head. "Just as they thought."

"What is it Grams?" Piper asked.

"That demon is a very powerful sorceror. His name is Thulsa Doom. Thousands
of years ago he was defeated by a warrior king and his soul was banished
forever to the underworld where he is feared by other less powerful demons.
Until now, he has been unable to travel to this plane of existance, however,
the Source has has made an alliance with him and will allow him to roam the
Earth and spread his Snake Cult if he manages to destroy you three."

"As if that's new" Prue grinned "the Source is always sending demons to kill
us but we always end up defeating them."

"That may be so, but this time it really is different. You see, Thulsa Doom's
magic is an ancient one, and there is little that even the Power of Three can
do against it."

"So you're saying that we just accept defeat?" Phoebe said, her voice
catching slightly, her eyes wide with sudden fear.

"No, there is a way. There is one person who can destroy Thulsa Doom as he
has done once already ..."

Penny Halliwell's ghostly image began to fade and her voice echoed around
the room as if it came from a great distance, "... only one of you will be
allowed to go back in time to meet that person and bring him back to kill
the sorceror demon. Phoebe, your journey shall be dangerous, but if you and
your sisters want to survive, it is the only way ..." The Charmed Ones
grandmother faded away completely though the Book of Shadows opened of its
own accord and the pages turned until the three young women could see the
hand drawn picture of a muscular warrior holding a massive sword.

Prue looked down at the Book of Shadows and began to read the script.

"Between the time when the oceans drank
Atlantis and the rise of the Sons of Aryas,
there was an age undreamed of,
and onto this .. Conan,
destined to bear the jeweled crown of Aquilonia upon a troubled brow,
defeated Thulsa Doom with his sword made of steel blessed by Krom himself."

She looked up and turned to Phoebe who was looking down at the image of the
warrior.

"Grandma can be so cryptic at times. She didn't say how we were to send you
back to get this Conan guy, and there isn't any more information on this
page" Prue shrugged. "Maybe Leo will know."

She was about to call for him when Phoebe stepped closer to the Book of
Shadows and touched the image, tracing the outline of the warrior king's
muscular body with her fingers. A yellow glow, increasing in luminosity
seemed to burst out of the book and envelop Phoebe.

The young witch had been wearing a pink lycra top and baggy white pants but
as the glow subsided, her clothes had disappeared. Phoebe looked down at
herself and gasped at this sudden transformation.

Her top had been replaced with the tiniest of brassieres - two triangular
bits of leather joined together by a bronze ring in the center between her
breasts and a thin strap around her back. The skimpy piece of clothing
barely covered a quarter of her ample breasts and was just a wanton display
of cleavage.

Instead of her pants, there was now a microscopic leather skirt, worn low on
her hips and just big enough to cover her groin. It was much less effective
at covering her ass, leaving the lower parts of her butt cheeks exposed.
Actually it could hardly be considered a skirt since it was split down both
sides right up to her waist, the front and back pieces of leather joined by
a bronze ring on each side. A belt around her hips held a scabbard covered
in intricate designs including the symbol which represented the Charmed Ones
power of three. Inside the scabbard was a long dagger, though it was too
short to be a sword. It felt heavy against Phoebe's bare left thigh. A pair
of boots made out of thin leather straps going all the way up to her knee
and metal wrist bands, also engraved with the Charmed Ones symbol completed
the costume.

"Wow!" Piper exclaimed at her's sister's transformation.

"Phoebs, that's a really sexy outfit. It does make you look like such a slut
though" Prue grinned. She couldn't resist the opportunity to rib her sister.

Phoebe blushed. All her everyday outfits were sexy, but this ancient amazon
warrior getup beat them all. With the amount of skin she was showing she
could just about be considered naked.

"I .. I .. don't know where this came from ..."

But before she or her sisters could add anything another glow emanated from
the Book of Shadows and filled the entire attic. The light was so bright that
Phoebe was blinded. She felt herself falling ... falling ... and she screamed
in terror ...

"Oooooooffffffff." Her scream had been replaced by a gasp as the wind was
knocked out of her. Her sight returned slowly and she looked around in
surprise. She no longer was in the Halliwell Manor's attic with her sisters,
but was sitting on her backside where she'd fallen on a dusty piece of
ground.

There was a disgusting stench all around her and Phoebe grimaced in disgust
as she noticed the animal droppings all around her. Something grunted behind
her and she leapt up in fright. Turning around she came face to face with a
huge boar. Phoebe jumped to her feet and walked backwards away from the
grunting beast hoping that it didn't decide to charge her or something. When
it didn't make any move, she looked around slowly. She seemed to be in the
courtyard of some building made of roughly hewn stones and a ceiling made of
thatch. A chimney at the center belched smoke. Besides the boar and Phoebe,
the only other living things were a few scrawny chickens pecking at the
ground.

She dusted herself off and sighed. The dangerous journey that Grams had
mentioned seemed to have begun, though she certainly didn't feel prepared
for it at all. Why her anyway? Prue was the eldest sister, so why hadn't
she been chosen? Damn! She just remembered that she had a date with that
cute guy she'd met at the University, what was his name ... oh yeah, Mark.
She shrugged. Maybe when her time travelling was over she'd be sent back to
the same point in time when she'd left and she'd still be able to go on her
date.

"What now?" she thought. The only way out of the courtyard seemed to be the
door in the building so she headed for it. Inside, the smoke filled building
was dark, lit only by dimly flickering torches and a central fireplace over
which a spit slowly turned, roasting what was probably the brother of that
boar outside.

The large hall was packed with men sitting at wooden tables talking,
shouting, singing and generally making merry as they drank from large
pitchers and grabbed at piles of food with their greasy hands. Most wore
leather clothing and sheepskins, or various combinations thereof, sometimes
studded with pieces of metal or chain mail. A variety of swords, knives,
axes, maces, shields and other assorted, dangerous looking weaponry were
strewn about the place. It seemed like a scene right out of the history
books to Phoebe.

Scantily clad women in diaphanous gowns that left little to the imagination
walked nimbly amongst the tables carrying pitchers of frothing ale while
others sat on the benches smiling as they draped their arms around the
muscular men's necks. As her eyes grew accustomed to the dim lighting she
noticed that some of the women were openly performing fellatio on their
partners. A few had already gone past the preliminaries and had begun to
copulate where they sat, their naked and sweaty bodies glowing in the
lamplight as they rose and fell upon each other.

Phoebe shook her head, slightly taken aback by all this - not that she was a
prude, but not even 20th century Californians had sex in between courses at
a restaurant ... though calling this a restaurant was quite an unwarranted
compliment. Phoebe knew she was here for a reason, she had to find the
warrior called Conan and somehow convince him to help her and her sisters
defeat this Thulsa Doom demon. Steeling herself, she walked amongst the
tables, trying to blend in as much as possible as she looked at faces trying
to recognize the one she was looking for, but amongst all those big, wild
looking men and with the outfit she was wearing she felt very self conscious.
Her hand slipped automatically to the hilt of her dagger.

"Wench! More ale!" a gruff voice shouted from the next table as Phoebe walked
past.

"I said more ale, wench!" the voice roared again as Phoebe walked on down the
aisle, then she yelped as someone grabbed her arm in a vise like grip and
jerked her to a stop.

"Hey ...!"

"Woman, how dare you ignore Darak, most powerful lord of the Northern
Highlands?" the person who had grabbed her said. He was a big guy, bald, but
with a long, thick beard to make up for his lack of hair. He was dressed in
furs covered with metallic plates as a sort of rudimentary armor.

"I..I..wasn't ignoring him, I'm not a barmaid and I don't have any ale"
Phoebe replied "now let me go, because you're hurting me."

There was a moment of silence, then the men at the table including the one
who had grabbed Phoebe began to laugh uproariously as if she had said
something funny, but the guy let go of her hand.

Phoebe rubbed her arm. He really has strong hands, she thought, but then
realised that with the type of weaponry these people used, their arms would
be especially muscular. She put her hands on her hips as they continued
laughing, seemingly at her. If she'd thought about it, she should have walked
away while she had the chance, but one thing Phoebe didn't like was people
making fun of her for no apparent reason. So she just stood there until the
laughter died down, then in a hurt tone of voice she asked the men, "What are
you laughing at?"

This brought another outburst of mirth, then the guy who had grabbed her arm
sat down at the table.

"If you are not a wench, what sort of warrior are you if you feel pain at the
slightest touch of my hand?"

"But I'm not a warrior, I'm a ... heyyyyyy!" Phoebe managed to squeak as the
guy grabbed her wrist and pulled her roughly towards him, forcing her down
onto the bench next to him.

"Woman, if you're not a warrior then you must submit to warriors" he growled
his black eyes flashing angrily at her as she struggled in his grasp. His
strength was too much for her and no matter how much she squirmed and tugged
trying to free herself, he held her effortlessly down on the bench then
pulled her against him, until her heaving breasts were pressed painfully
against his armor. His beard scratched at her cheeks as his face leaned
towards hers until she could smell the fumes of strong ale in his mouth. Then
his lips clamped over hers as he kissed her roughly. Phoebe kept her lips
pressed firmly together as she felt the man's tongue dart out of his mouth
as it attempted to force its way into hers.

She felt rough hands rove over her back then move lower over her butt. Her
eyes opened wide as she felt thick fingers slide down the length of her bare
ass crack - the costume that Grams or the book of shadows had supplied her
with hadn't included panties! The pair of hands began to squeeze her bare
butt cheeks, pinching the flesh hard enough to make her yelp, though her
cries of pain were muffled by the bastard's mouth still sucking her lips.

"Nooooo ...." she finally managed to say as the bearded guy let go of her
mouth for just a moment to grin wickedly at her as he jammed his index
finger deep into her tight slit. Phoebe gasped, surprise and anger vying
with a sudden feeling of arousal as the finger wiggled about inside her.
Involuntarily, she began to lubricate and the warrior's grin widened as he
felt the increasing wetness in her loins. He began to pump his finger in
and out of her spreading cunt lips as, reluctantly, Phoebe began to relax
in his grasp. Soft sighs of pleasure escaped her lips with each rough
penetration of the thick finger. The warrior pulled her higher against his
body so that his mouth was level with her breasts. Pushing aside the
triangular patch of the bra over her left breast, his lips found Phoebe's
turgid nipple and sucked heavily on it.

"Aaaaaaaghhhhhh yesssss..." Phoebe hissed as his teeth scraped across the
stiff bit of aroused pink flesh, then as conflicting emotions raged in her
head she whispered, "No please stop this!" Damn! she thought, I've gotta
resist but it's hard, ohhhhhh god, this fingering feels so good .... Phoebe
made another attempt to escape by pushing against the warrior with all her
strength but he didn't budge an inch. Tears of frustration welled up in her
eyes as she continued to struggle uselessly beneath the man. At that moment
her captor's mouth found her other juicy nipple and proceeded to suck and
nibble on it even harder than the first one, while his fingers dug even
deeper into her juicy quim. She cried out loudly, any hope that she would
manage to get away from her tormentor vanishing in an instant.

"Darak, are you going to have that wench all to yourself? Have you forgotten
about your faithful brother?" a voice behind Phoebe said.

Darak's mouth let go of Phoebe's tit for a moment, "Of course not Dehu,
there's enough of this woman for all of us tonight" he laughed loudly, his
voice booming across the hall as he slapped Phoebe's ass as if to emphasize
his point.

"Good, then lay her down on the table" Dehu said clearing the wooden top with
one sweep of his hand, sending wooden bowls and dishes some with food still
in them clattering to the floor. He reached under his loin cloth and his hand
emerged holding his cock, growing visibly larger as he stroked it with his
fist. "It is time that she pleasured all of us."

The group of Northern warriors sitting at the table stamped on the floor in
approval, some raising their tankards of ale in a toast to their generous
Lord as he stood up still holding Phoebe by the ass and tossed her onto the
table none too gently. She tried to get up but the men quickly grabbed her
arms and legs and pinned her down, spreadeagled across the rough wooden
surface. She looked around wildly and called out, "Someone please help me,
stop them!"

Phoebe's eyes were wide open with terror as Darak got up on the table between
her legs, licking his finger clean as he enjoyed the taste of her juices. He
knelt down spreading her thighs further apart and then pulled out his cock
from under his bearskin loincloth as his brother had done moments ago.

She looked around frantically again crying out for help, but all the other
people in the room continued on their business as if nothing was amiss ...
eating, laughing, tossing dice or having sex with the scantily clad barmaids.
It dawned upon her that the situation she found herself in must be quite
common in this age, were women were treated as mere sexual objects, to be
used for men's satisfaction and then discarded. No one was going to come
rushing to her aid and stop these warriors from raping her. Even if someone
did, she doubted it would be of any practical use. What could anyone do
against someone who wielded axes and swords as tall as a person!?

There was one way however, but there was no guarantee it would work. Even if
it did work, there might be consequences later for Phoebe herself. Magic was
a dangerous tool to use in these situations and besides ... her mind seemed
to have turned blank as the warriors groped at her tits squeezing and pulling
her nipples, running their harsh hands over her flat stomach and marvelling
at the neatly trimmed patch of pubic hair. Phoebe gasped loudly, biting on
her lower lip so as not to cry out loud as Darak slid his thumb rougly over
her clit's sheath several times as he teased the sensitive bundle of nerve
endings out into the open. Grinning wildly, he placed his throbbing purple
member at her opening. She inhaled sharply as the thick penis began to
penetrate her. At first it met a bit of resistance as the tight cunt lips
closed around the head ... then Darak savagely thrust his hips at her and
rammed his cock deep into her body.

The sudden shock of such a swift penetration cleared Phoebe's mind for a
moment and the lines of a rudimentary spell appeared in her head and she
recited it quickly before the red haze of increasing sexual pleasure fogged
her mind completely.

"Fucking me you shall regret,
my body you shall never forget,
while dirty beasts you shall become,
after showering me with your cum!"

Phoebe blinked. The spell hadn't quite come out as she'd wanted it too - she
usually had more time to refine her lines! It wasn't going to do much to stop
the men raping her, but if she was lucky she'd get her revenge on them when
they were done with her. Yeah, great satisfaction that would be, she thought
glumly as first guy went down on her, roughly thrusting his thick cock into
her pussy as he went about satisfying his basest instincts without any sort
of regards for Phoebe's well being. Not to be outdone by his brother, Dehu,
knelt on the table behind her head and his penis swung above her face,
slapping against her forehead and nose. His large hand cupped her jaw and
his fingers squeezed her cheeks painfully until she opened her mouth wide,
stuffing his cock inside it before she could turn her face away. She tried
to speak, but she just managed to make a gurgling sound as her tongue ran
over the stiff rod.

Trying to resist was just a waste of energy, and Phoebe knew that she was
going to need lots of it soon as she caught glimpses out of the corners of
her eyes of the lecherously grinning men all around her waiting their turn
to take advantage of her. So she let her body relax as she was violated
repeatedly in her pussy and in her mouth. Before long she was not quite
enjoying it but at the very least making the most of a situation which she
had sometimes dreamed of in her wildest erotic fantasies. Salty precum
dribbled down Phoebe's tongue as her passive blowjob became more active and
she began to suckle eagerly on the large manhood filling her mouth. For a
moment the corners of her mouth curled up in a smile as she thought of what
Prue would say if she saw her like this, then all thought vanished as someone
chose that moment to shove a thick finger in her anus and her scream echoed
around the hall.

* * *

A short man walked furtively between the tables, his shifty eyes darting to
and fro as his hands worked swiftly and unnoticed as they slipped into
pockets or undid strings holding leather pouches on belts. His own bag was
quickly becoming heavier as it filled up with other people's possessions.
The pickpocket reached the table where Phoebe was being raped but though he
had a good look at the wench's very sexy body and something stirred between
his legs, he really was more interested in any precious items the warriors
had left lying around while they satisfied their lust.

Nothing of value, his expert eyes noted, they probably were on the way to
pillage some village so they travelled light. Maybe they'd stop here on
their way back to their lands and he'd help himself to a few of their
ill-begotten takings then. Then he smiled. He hadn't noticed it before
because it had been partially hidden under the slut's body, but as one of
the men doing his thing to her moved to let another take his place and
mount her, a beautifully designed scabbard had slid out. What interested
him even more was the dagger it contained, especially the hilt. It flashed
a bright yellow color in the lamplight - could it be gold? His hands darted
out and undid the buckle quickly, all the time pretending that he was
trying to cop a feel of the woman's wet crotch.

One of the warriors who was pinning down one of Phoebe's arms and groping
her breasts turned to the thief and shoved him away roughly, "This woman is
ours! Go find one of your own, you bastard" he growled.

"Yes, yes, my lord" the pickpocket bowed deeply and walked backwards as if
deeply repentant yet he was barely hiding the wide grin on his face as his
hands clutched the woman's dagger and scabbard behind his back. The woman
seemed to be saying something to him. It sounded like, "Help me!", but what
could a thief do against such warriors. He shrugged, it was none of his
business. Tieing the scabbard around his waist, he decided it was enough
for today and he ran out of the door as fast as he could before anyone
realised they'd been robbed and jumped onto his pony, heading in a
south-easterly direction away from the inn at a quick trot.

* * *

Phoebe gasped and moaned, sometimes crying out loudly as a deep thrust of a
thick cock hit her g-spot making her entire body shudder. She had lost count
of how many times the warriors reaming her cunt had traded places, all she
knew was that her vagina was stuffed full of cock all the time, rammed and
thrust in and out in savage strokes. Her nipples and breasts felt sore from
all the pinching, pawing and squeezing they were being subjected to and her
breath was coming in ragged gasps as she gulped air in between mouthfuls of
dripping cock-meat. She did notice, as she glanced sideways for a moment in
between blowjobs, a guy with frazzled, sunburnt hair, short and thin,
definitely not muscular as all the other men in the hall were. For a moment,
she thought he was lining up in the queue to fuck her, then she realised
that he was doing something at her waist and after a few seconds he walked
away with her dagger when one of her captors confronted him.

"Hey" she called out after him "please help me ..." she was going to add
something else but Darak, who now was kneeling behind her roared and sprayed
a load of cum across her face, filling her mouth with the creamy, white
liquid. She gulped it down, sputtering, taken by surprise as she tried to
breath properly again. Moments later, Dehu squirted his own load before he
had even pulled his cock out completely from her vagina, giving Phoebe a
creampie, the cum flowing slowly out of her red hot, wide open cunt lips,
dribbling down onto the table top. But it wasn't over for the young woman
as another warrior took Dehu's place, barely noticing the wet mess between
Phoebe's legs as he stuffed his own cock into her.

Fucking her wildly until they came, some inside her, others over her body
until every square inch of her skin was coated in sticky semen, the warriors
took Phoebe again and again until she lost count of the number of orgasms she
experienced. Hours passed as the amount of people in the hall dwindled, most
going back to where they had chosen to camp out for the night, others to the
sleeping rooms at the back - these usually accompanied by a barmaid who would
keep them company and provide them with additional services throughout the
night.

Those who had remained in the main hall and were sober enough to stand on
their own two feet had gathered around the table where Phoebe still lay in
a daze, having been raped repeatedly by all the Northern Highlands warriors.
A few of the onlookers chose to take advantage of her also, since her
glistening, sexy body was not an opportunity to be missed.

* * *

A wizened man sat cross legged atop a rock, looking out over the plains. He
was completely bald and was wearing a metallic skullcap held over his head
by a strap going under his chin. The sun was setting and the shadows had
grown tall.

He squinted into the distance as his sharp eyes picked up a trail of dust.
"Malak returns" he announced and jumped down from his perch, walking over
to a pile of driftwood. He formed his hands into a triangle and muttered an
incantation and the wood burst into flames. A large, muscular man sat beside
the campfire. He was dressed only in a loincloth made out of some animal's
skin. Around his neck was a necklace made of big, sharp animal teeth and a
thin metallic band around his forehead kept his long hair out of his face.
On the ground next to him, always within easy reach, was a huge sword that a
lesser man would have had trouble to pick up let alone swing.

Malak rode into the camp and jumped down from his pony, whooping with joy.
He emptied the contents of his bag in front of the two men.

"Look at all these coins and jewels" he laughed as he went through the
individual pouches he had robbed off the unwary revellers at the inn "isn't
this pretty?" he said picking up a large emerald, sparkling green in the
firelight.

"Good, good" Conan said "but did you buy food and drink?"

The smile on Malak's face disappeared. "Oh ... I forgot ... I was so taken
with thieving and that girl that I forgot to get food ... please forgive me
Conan, you can have my share of the jewels" he bowed his head deeply.

"If it weren't for me, we'd all be going hungry tonight" the sorceror
muttered as he picked up a long stick from the ground on which were skewered
some barely recognizable lumps of flesh, most likely having once belonged to
some desert lizard. He placed the stick over the fire and the meat began to
roast and bubble away almost immediately.

"Why thank you Akiro" Malak groaned in disgust "they had roast pig in there
and now we're going to eat those disgusting creatures." He spat on the ground
uttering an oath as if it hadn't been his fault that he had forgotten that
he'd had to buy food.

Conan was silent as the bickering between Malak and Akiro continued, then he
spoke and both of them stopped talking and turned towards the usually silent
barbarian warrior.

"You spoke about a girl." It was more a statement than a question.

"What girl? .... Oh, that girl" Malak grinned, "there was this wench, so
beautiful, never seen anyone quite like her, she was almost as beautiful as
Valeria ..." then when he saw the look on Conan's face he almost bit his
tongue, "... well, not so beautiful of course, but she was shaped like this
..." he used his hands to draw an hourglass figure in midair "... and her
tits were as big as ripe melons. Her skin was white and unblemished, her
long brown hair flowed over her shoulders, her hips full and thighs shapely
..." his voice lowered "... and her hair .. down there .. it was neatly
cropped" he said as if in awe.

Akiro laughed. "Any whore you can't pay for is beautiful to you. Even that
sheep you took several moons ago must have been beautiful."

The thief's cheeks reddened. "Well, a man can't always rely on his fist now
can he?" he said jerking his hand up and down. "And we were days from the
nearest village ... Look .. " Malak suddenly remembered happy to change the
subject "I even snatched this off the girl as she lay beneath Darak. It
must be worth many a coin I'm sure." He took out the dagger and undid the
scabbard he had taken from Phoebe and showed it to Akiro.

"Darak!" Conan exclaimed as if he had just uttered an oath. It wasn't the
first time that Conan had fought with his followers, though they had never
crossed swords personally or Darak would have been dead. "Are you certain
it was him?"

"Oh, yes I'm sure, I'd recognise him and that idiot brother of his, Dehu, a
mile away, especially after they raided Laranoth and got away with the High
Priest's Silver Orb that I had been planning to steal that very same night.

Akiro leaned closer and examined the scabbard, then hissed loudly and got
up to his knees, waving his hands in the air as if forming ancient symbols
and muttering incantations in some old language.

"What is wrong Akiro?" Conan asked. He had learned to trust the sorceror's
intuition and rarely had he seen him as agitated as this.

"This symbol" Akiro pointed out the three interleaving petals of the Charmed
Ones symbol which was engraved on the scabbard as well as on the hilt of the
dagger, "it represents great power, magical power. I have read ancient texts
which some say foretell the future, and they speak of three witches who fight
evil demons. If that woman you saw is one of them and she comes to harm, then
their power will be broken and the world will be invaded by pure evil."

Malak rolled his eyes. Magic didn't particulary interest him, unless Akiro
used it to help him out of a bad situation he had somehow gotten himself
into - which happened often. "If that girl was as powerful as you say then
she would not have let herself become the cum container for Darak's band of
thugs. When I left she was moaning and screaming like any other whore as
the Northerners used her body."

"I too am a powerful sorceror" Akiro shrugged "but I am not invincible."

"Enough" Conan rose to his feet and hefted his sword. "Whoever she is, we
will save her from Darak's clutches and return this dagger to her. I will
not steal from a witch who might curse me." He glowered at Malak who seemed
about to say something, but changed his mind at the last moment.

Akiro had brought their horses from where they had been tied and they all
jumped onto their backs, leaving the campfire to burn itself out as they
headed towards the inn.

"At least we won't be eating those shitty lizards" Malak muttered as he
looked over his shoulder at the burning chunks of meat they had left in the
fire.

* * *

Phoebe felt sore all over as she struggled up into a sitting position on
the table. Gooey cum dripped down her entire body as she got up unsteadily.
Even walking felt painful, her legs had been spread apart for so long, not
to mention the amount of cocks of all shapes and sizes that had violated
her.

"Here, clean yourself up with this." It was the barkeep who dropped a wooden
bucket filled with water next to her feet and handed her a rag.

"Thanks" she said in a tired voice as she dipped the rag into the bucket and
began to wipe herself clean. She looked around and noticed that the warriors
who had raped her were strewn on the floor all around her snoring loudly,
sleeping in a drunken stupor. She grimaced. Her magic hadn't worked. Maybe
it was useless in the present .. or actually she was in the past .. she shook
her head, time travel was confusing enough already if you hadn't been
gangbanged by a bunch of medieval warrior bandits.

She looked up and blushed as she realised that the barkeep had been staring
at her all the time and rather belatedly she began to feel self conscious of
her cum-coated nudity.

He grinned at her. She noticed he was missing quite a few of his front teeth
and those that were left weren't in such a good shape either, but that's what
happened when you didn't have expensive dentists waiting for you downtown.
Phoebe sighed, with everything that had happened to her today she was
thinking about a dentist and this guy's teeth! After a few moments, she was
clean as she was ever going to be with this bucket, though what she really
wanted was a long hot bath with one of Piper's homemade skin lotions and
preferably Piper doing the massaging. She sighed again.

"You, you and you" the barkeep was saying, "yes, and you too." Phoebe found
herself standing with another three girls in a line next to her. From what
she could tell they were some of the barmaids she had seen "entertaining"
the warriors earlier that evening. They had a fearful yet resigned look upon
their faces and Phoebe wondered what was going on.

A stocky man with a flowing red cape behind his back walked out of the
shadows and poured several gleaming coins out of a bag into the barkeep's
open hands. The barkeep's grin widened further as he counted the coins,
then waved at Phoebe and the other young women. "Away with you wenches, go
with your new owner and be of good service as you have been to me."

One of the women began sobbing silently but didn't resist, as the stocky man
gave her a quick once over and felt her up as if she was an inanimate object
before walking down the line and doing the same to the two other girls. When
it was Phoebe's turn she just couldn't believe this was happening to her as
the man grasped her buttocks, thighs, breasts and stomach, squeezing and
patting them.

"Hey, mister, get your fuckin' hands off me!" she turned to the girls next
to her, "I don't know about you but I'm getting out of here right now" and
she made for the door. Before she got further than a couple of steps the man
who had just purchased Phoebe and the three other whores barked an order and
two tall men who had been against the far wall of the inn, walked over. One
grabbed Phoebe and held her while she struggled as the other gagged her with
a cloth around her mouth, then he lifted her up over his shoulder, one hand
holding firmly on her left butt cheek as she hammered his back with her fists
with no visible effect. She was carried outside, the other three girls and
the red caped man following close behind.

"Tie her" he ordered and strips of cloth were tied around Phoebe's ankles
and wrists until she was unable to move. Her screams and profanities muffled
by the gag in her mouth, she was was dumped unceremoniously into the back of
a wagon drawn by two horses. The three women climbed into the wagon and sat
silently next to her, resigned to their fate. After all, it wasn't the first
time they had belonged to another slaver who had sold them to this inn. The
wagon itself was actually a roofed cage made of thick iron bars, Phoebe
realised, as the door clanged shut and was locked with a large key. There
was more than one wagon, more like four or five of them as shouted orders
were given and horses neighed and stamped their hooves impatiently on the
ground. Soon the small convoy of wagons was moving steadily over a rough
dirt road and the inn where Phoebe had started her journey into the past
slowly receded into the distance.

An hour must have passed and night had fallen when one of the girls next to
Phoebe whispered into her ear, "I will take off your gag, but please don't
shout and scream or the Master will come and beat us."

Phoebe nodded, grateful to have the damn thing out of her mouth. She took a
deep breath of air when the gag was undone and then she whispered back.

"Thank you. Can you take off my bonds now?"

The woman looked around as if not sure what to do, then loosened the cloth
that was around Phoebe's wrists. Phoebe did the rest, untying her own feet.
She stretched, then got up into a sitting position, her back against the
side of the wagon as the other girls were.

"I'm Phoebe" she told the woman who had freed her bonds.

The woman smiled at her. "I'm Arya." She pointed at the girl sitting next to
her, the one who had started crying at the inn. Phoebe could see the streaks
the now dry tears had left on her face. "This is Melia and she is Raiset."

Phoebe smiled at them. If she had to guess their age, they barely looked
seventeen.

"The language you speak in is strange, though understandable" Arya said,
"where are you from?"

"I'm from San Francisco, California" Phoebe told her though it wouldn't mean
much to the girl.

"I've never heard of that village."

"Yeah, I bet you haven't" Phoebe laughed, the comical aspect of her
situation suddenly hitting her, then stopped when she saw Arya looking at
her strangely. "Sorry, but 'Frisco isn't a village, it's more like a town,
a very big town and .. and it's a very long story ... Anyway, where are you
from and what were you doing at the inn? You look so young ..."

"I can't remember the name of my village. All I remember is that I was
seven or eight years old when the warriors came and burnt it down, killing
everyone. They took my mother and my sisters alive but we were separated
soon after and sold to different traders." Phoebe's mouth drop open in
astonishment at her sad story. Arya went on, "When I was twelve I was sold
to a woman who trained girls like me in the arts of sexual pleasures and
soon after I was sold again to various taverns and houses of pleasure. It's
not all that bad .." she added seeing the look on Phoebe's face, "I am
taken care of by my owners and fed every day. Not all of us have been so
lucky all the time" she looked in Melia's direction but didn't elaborate.

"Oh" was all Phoebe could say and they fell silent as the rocking motions
of the wagon and Phoebe's exertions that day lulled her into a fitful sleep
on the hay covering the wagon's wooden floor.

* * *

The moon was high in the sky and casting a silvery glow upon the ground as
Conan rode up to the inn. He was already on the ground, holding his sword
at the ready, while Malak and Akiro were still several hundred feet away.

He kicked in the tavern's door, the thick wood splintering under his great
strength. His eyes adjusted quickly to the dim, flickering light of torches
dying down. The tavern was empty except for the barkeep who was standing
behind the counter wringing his hands, a look of despair upon his face.
Conan ignored him for now and searched the rest of the inn but found no
one, except for several women who cowered behind their beds and screamed
hysterically.

He returned to the barkeep and grabbed his shoulder. "The Northern warriors,
where are they? Their horses are outside, so they cannot have left."

The barkeep raised a trembling hand and pointed towards a dark corner of the
inn.

Conan looked but all he saw was a group of dirty pigs, snorting and snuffling
as they searched for scraps of food on the dirty floor.

"Where are they?" he shouted again as he shook the barkeep with one hand as
if he was made of thin cloth.

"Those pigs ... those pigs .. they are the warriors .. she did it .. I am
sure she did it ... she has terrible powers ... I am lost, she has cursed
this place ...!" he wailed beating his brow with his hands.

Conan did not understand, "Speak," he ordered, raising his mighty sword, "or
I will split you in two, where is Darak and his warriors?"

Akiro and Malak walked in and they had heard what the barkeep said. The
wizard looked at the pigs and at the barkeep, then he told Conan, "Stop, he
might be telling the truth."

The muscles in Conan's arms flexed as he put the barkeep down and lowered
his sword. He looked at Akiro as the wizard walked over to the group of pigs
and began to mumble a chant. After a moment he shook his head, then sat down
cross legged on the floor and concentrated harder until his face and bald
head dripped with sweat and his chants grew louder and louder.

For a moment, barely seconds long, a yellow glow surrounded the pigs and
Conan could make out the shapes of men instead of the animals, crouching on
the floor their faces close to the ground, but the illusion soon disappeared
and they were just pigs again.

Akiro slowly got up, breathing deeply. He turned to Conan and pointed at the
pigs. "That woman truly has powerful magic. Those are Darak and Dehu and his
warriors. I cannot reverse the effects for more than a few moments as you
saw." He shook his head, "the ancient stories are right, she is a great
witch!"

"By Krom!" Conan gasped, "Barkeep, where is this woman?"

"Nowhere near here I hope" Malak said fearfully, looking furtively at the
dark shadows in the room, half expecting the woman he'd seen being fucked
by the Northerners suddenly leap out at him and transform him into a pig or
even, a sudden horrifying thought crossed his mind, a sheep!

"She .. I .. I .. sold her .. to a passing slaver who was looking for fresh
whores. He .. he .. gave me twenty gold pieces just for her and another five
gold pieces for three of my best barmaids. But now this place is cursed and
I am ruined ..." he wailed clutching his head in both hands.

Conan ignored him and headed for the door. "Akiro, Malak, come! We will ride
hard and free this woman."

"Oh no, I knew he'd say that" Malak moaned "didn't he see what she's done?
Why do we always end up on some insane adventure to save a pretty maiden?"
But Conan was already upon his horse and following the caravan's trail at a
quick trot.

* * *

The days passed slowly for Phoebe as she sat for hours on end in the cage,
passing the time by chatting with the other three girls learning about their
lives, their rather miserable existences as whores, their only aim in life to
give pleasure to the multitude of warriors, barbarians, bandits and thieves
who could pay for their services. At infrequent intervals they would stop and
the girls would be tied together by a long rope and allowed to stray for a
few feet from their wagon and find a place to do whatever they needed to do
always under the watchful eye of one or more guards.

They were fed bowls of cold rice with some unidentifiable chopped up
vegetables, the bowls passed through the bars while the wagons were still
moving. No stops to build a campfire were made and the caravan kept up a
steady pace, barely slowing as the plains gave way to hilly terrain, the
trail meandering along following the bank of a river.

On the morning of the fifth day, when the guards unlocked the cage and began
to tie up the girls with the usual rope, Phoebe took her chance and jumped
off the wagon through the open door running as fast as she could on the
pebbly ground.

"Phoebe no, don't do it" Arya cried knowing that any escape was useless and
that she would be punished when caught, but Phoebe ignored her and continued
to run.

A guard blocked her way and she punched him in the face. He barely staggered
and threw a punch in her direction. She ducked the blow and grabbed hold of
his arm, twisting it around over her shoulder and levering his body upwards.
Before he knew it, he was lying on his back the breath knocked out of him as
Phoebe ran downhill in the direction they had come from.

Her escape was short lived as one of the more alert guards jumped out from
the last wagon in the caravan and threw a short rope weighted by metal balls
at both ends. The rope flew threw the air and wrapped itself tightly about
her legs and she tripped, falling heavily to the ground. She must have hit
her head because as she faded into unconsciousness she heard the voice of
the Master say, "Put her in the Nubian cage."

* * *

Conan jumped off his horse and knelt on the ground, looking closely at the
pebbles that had caught his attention as he followed the caravan's trail.

He got up and looked into the distance. "They are close" he announced, "not
more than a day's ride." He looked at the pebble that he had picked up. There
was a small brown stain on it - blood, only a few hours old.

"I hope you're right, because if we ride any longer, my butt is going to dry
up and fall off" Malak grumbled from where he sat on his pony.

Akiro laughed, "Maybe you wish to run ahead of us and stop the slaver's
caravan all by yourself?"

"Bah!" Malak spat and fell silent as Conan jumped up onto his horse and
continued up the steepening trail.

* * *

Phoebe awoke. Her head hurt and she reached up to feel her forehead. She felt
a small cut and a slight swelling where she had hit her head when she had
fallen. She was lying on her back and from the motion she felt she assumed
she had been placed back in her wagon. She opened her eyes slowly and gasped.
Instead of the reassuring face of Arya or one of the other girls, she saw the
face of a tall, black man, standing over her, studying her naked body. Seeing
her awake, he grinned widely.

"She's awake" he told whoever else was in the wagon with them.

"About time" a voice said.

"Awake or asleep, it doesn't matter to me, I'd do her anyway" another voice
said.

"Wh-who are you" she stammered, getting up to a sitting position and looking
around. There were six black men packed into the cage, all completely naked
like her.

"We are Nubian gladiators, on our way to die at the fighting pit of Ladna
Trul up in the mountains ahead. Before we give up our lives for our Master's
pleasure, he has given us a great gift to show his appreciation."

"What is that?" Phoebe asked weakly but she had her suspicions.

The Nubian gladiator grinned again, "You. The Master's latest addition to
his harem of whores and we get to try you out first, before even the Master
himself. That is a great honor indeed."

"N-no .. You can't do this .. I won't let you .. I .. I .."

This brought loud guffaws of laughter from the men, as several of them were
already holding their cocks and rubbing them slowly as they stiffened and
grew.

Phoebe looked about, her eyes wide in panic as the first gladiator reached
for her breasts. There was no way out of this. She was going to be gangraped
again, the second time in less than a week. These gladiators had nothing to
lose. If what they had said was true, and she had no reason to doubt them,
they were condemned men anyway.

She crawled backwards until her back was pressing against the cage's bars,
but there was no escape. Hands grabbed her ankles and pulled her forward
while spreading her legs wide apart. Phoebe closed her eyes in resignation
as more hands slid over her thighs until she felt many fingers press roughly
against her labia, rubbing eagerly at her slit until it began to petal open
like a flower, exposing its juicy pink interior. For a moment she wished
Prue was here instead of her but then she ashamedly retracted the thought -
this was not the thing to wish would happen to your sister, even a smug
bastard of a sister. Then again, knowing Prue, she'd probably have thrown
herself right at these guys!

The Nubians hadn't taken a woman in months. The Master had deliberately kept
his pleasure girls away from them until their pent up sexual tension was at
bursting point. This had worked in their favor in the last few gladiatorial
encounters they'd fought, giving them the edge in anger over their opponents
and they'd only lost one of their own, but he'd been weak, still suffering
from a wound inflicted in an earlier fight. Now the great fight was coming up
and the Master had given them Phoebe as a reward for their excellent services
since most of them wouldn't be making it out alive anyway. The Master knew
that and so did they. But they were resigned to their fate and so they would
make the utmost of the Master's gift, a woman fit for great warriors like
them!

The first one, their de facto leader, knelt between Phoebe's legs and put his
arms under her thighs, raising her bottom off the wagon's floor and towards
his pelvis. Phoebe sighed loudly as he drove his cock into her cunt and she
grabbed the iron bars behind her with both hands and held on tightly as his
long, slow strokes soon became a frenzy of wild thrusts as he satisfied his
unbridled lust. It wasn't long before his balls got the release they had been
aching for in months as he shot load after sticky load right into Phoebe's
pussy. Not a moment passed before he was roughly pushed out of the way by the
next in line who, without hesitation, stuck his dick into the young woman's
dripping cunt stirring the cum into a froth.

As each Nubian gladiator took their turn with Phoebe, her cries became
louder and louder echoing along the walls of the canyon the caravan was
moving through. Several wagons forward, the three young whores who had
befriended Phoebe sobbed silently, tears slowly streaming down their
beautful faces as they heard their newly captured companion's screams.
They knew that the Nubians would be rough, it wasn't the first time that
they had been gangbanged by them, though luckily the last time had been
months ago, when the caravan had stopped at the inn where they had worked
on its outward bound journey.

Phoebe's palms were red and sore from where she had been holding onto the
iron bars as if her life depended on it as the last Nubian gladiator, the
sixth one, stood before her. He had waited so long for his fellow gladiators
to have their turns with the woman, jerking off all the while, that he felt
he was almost at the point of his own release. Phoebe's spread legs beckoned
to him but at the last moment, after seeing the streaming white mess that was
her cunt, her slit drowning in what looked like a gallon of semen, he decided
against going down on her as his companions had done. Instead, and much to
Phoebe's surprise, he grabbed her hair and dragged her to her feet. She
squealed in pain as he roughly pulled her against him and then the sound was
cut off as he kissed her on her lips, his tongue darting into her mouth for
several breathless seconds. Then, still grabbing a fistful of her hair, he
forced her down on her knees before him and filled her mouth with his
over-excited penis. Phoebe's eyes were wide with shock as she managed to deep
throat the massive cock on the first stroke. Pre-cum and saliva dribbled out
of the corners of her mouth and down her chin as the Nubian gladiator forced
her head down repeatedly on his rod until she felt her lungs bursting for
air, unable to take more than quick, ragged breaths with the cock in her
mouth.

Fortunately, the last man came quicker than those before him and Phoebe was
relieved now that she could breathe again as he showered her face and chest
with his ejaculate. Satisfied, he let go of her hair and Phoebe flopped down
onto the wooden boards in exhaustion. Sleep claimed her almost immediately
and she dreamed fitfully of gladiators taking advantage of her in their
hundreds until a tall, muscular man - the one she had seen pictured in the
Book of Shadows - killed them all and saved her. When she woke later, finding
herself back in the wagon with the three women, she wasn't sure if it had
just been a dream or one of her premonitions.

* * *

The path had risen steeply in the past half hour and the air was much cooler.
The river they had been following had long since disappeared as the path had
veered away from it. The vegetation had thinned out until only small patches
of wildgrass grew sparsely on the rocky ground. On both sides of the trail,
rocky walls came closer and closer until the sun was blocked out and the path
narrowed. Mist descended on the three men and their steeds until they could
see no further than a horse's length in front of them. Malak was grumbling to
himself, voicing his thoughts about how this was the last time he'd follow
Conan on his quest for some girl, it wasn't as if there weren't enough cheap
whores to be had at the villages they passed through. Akiro eyes were
thoughtful as he looked about him, his hands clasped together while holding
the reins as if in prayer and his lips moved silently as he pronounced silent
incantations of protection.

Conan rode ahead, seemingly unperturbed by the cold wind slapping at his bare
chest or the ominous feeling of being hemmed in by the canyon walls and the
thick fog. As they turned a bend, Conan raised a hand and stopped his horse.
The fog was lifting slowly and he saw they were at the edge of a cliff. It
seemed to be the end of the trail but the slaver caravan they had been
following was nowhere to be seen. Then as the fog lifted further, Malak
gasped.

"What the fuck is that?"

What Malak had seen was a rock bridge which spanned a deep canyon in which
a river surged far below. It was so deep that the sound of the river pounding
against rocks below could barely be heard. At the far end of the bridge, hewn
into the rocky face of a mountain was a massive castle. Even from this
distance, they could see the flames of flickering torches and huge banners
blowing in the wind above the ramparts.

Conan was silent for a moment then spoke. "Ladna Trul."

"Ladna Trul? Is that what that fortess is called?" Malak asked, "Who lives
there?"

Akiro nodded to himself as if remembering the name Conan had uttered.

"It is home to the fighting pit of Lord Ragnarok. They say that countless
numbers of warriors fight to the death inside that pit for his sole
enjoyment. It is also rumored that once a year a contest takes place where
gladiators fight for the ultimate prize, their freedom, and vast riches
beyond belief as well as the most beautiful girls that you can imagine!"

"Sounds like an interesting place ... but whats the catch? What happens to
the losers?" Malak sniggered.

This time it was Conan who answered him, "They die."

"Great, just great, now let's get out of here" Malak made as if to turn his
pony around and head back down the mountain pass.

Conan went in the oppposite direction, followed closely by Akiro, as they
headed across the bridge towards the foreboding castle. The fog began to
descend again and Malak swore as he forced his pony into a fast trot to
catch up with the two quickly fading figures. "Hey, wait for me!" he
shouted as he tried not to look on either side of the bridge down into the
deep chasm looming below him.

* * *

Several hours before Conan reached the bridge, Phoebe had passed along the
same way. She and the other girls had terrified looks on their faces as their
wagon crossed the narrow rock bridge. Their mood wasn't helped by one of the
guards sitting in front of their cage as he cheerfully told them that the
last time they had crossed the bridge a year ago, one of the wheels of a
wagon had shattered upon a rock and that the wagon, the horses pulling it and
ten of the finest gladiators the Master had owned had plunged to their deaths
in the river far below. Phoebe wasn't sure if the man was just scaring them
or if he was telling the truth, but she breathed a sigh of relief when they
reached the other side without incident.

The entire caravan drove through the open gate into a massive cavern where
Phoebe counted at least sixty other wagons of all shapes, sizes and colours.
There must have been a thousand people milling around, mostly gladiators in
shackles watched closely by guards as they were herded to tunnels leading
deeper into the mountain. There was also a large number of young women, most
scantily clad or completely naked, just like Phoebe and her friends. They too
were shackled and being led off to other tunnels and soon it was Phoebe's
turn. She was tied to Arya and the two other girls.

They were joined by several more women who had disembarked from other wagons
in the caravan and tied together in single file they were taken down a tunnel
and up several flights of stairs hewn into the rock until they were met by a
woman, Phoebe thought she was in her early thirties but quite beautiful all
the same. She had long black hair and a dark brown eyes, high cheekbones and
full red lips. She was wearing a tight silk gown that revealed more than it
hid, her large breasts pushing against the thin material making her nipples
almost poke right through. The sides of the gown were split up along both
sides right to her waist making her show lots of thigh as she moved. For an
instant, Phoebe thought she resembled very much the 20th century actress,
Catherine Zeta Jones. The woman spoke, pointing in her direction.

"Ahhh, Master Vyrag told me all about you" the woman said as she spotted
Phoebe in the line of slave girls. "You really are as beautiful as he said
you are. Now I will have to see for myself if you are worth every gold coin
I paid for you" she smiled as if in anticipation of something particulary
delightful.

"Paid?" Phoebe gasped incredulously "You mean you've bought me?" This was
the second time that someone had bought her since she'd travelled back to
this past and she was beginning not to like it!

"Silence!" one of the guards shouted and lifted the loose end of the rope he
was holding as if he was about to hit her with it.

"No, stop. Do not touch her, or you'll spoil her beautiful skin." The guard
paused, somewhat reluctantly, but he obeyed the woman. Phoebe sighed with
relief and shut her mouth. Getting beaten wasn't going to help her out of
this situation.

The woman smiled at Phoebe and touched her cheek lightly, then her nose
wrinkled as she caught a whiff of Phoebe's unbathed and cum encrusted body.
"Oh dear, you seem to have been a busy girl on your journey to Ladna Trul."
She winked at Phoebe, then turned to the guard. "Untie them and take them
to the bathing room. These girls need to be cleaned up before the start of
the contests tomorrow."

The guard did as he was told and led the women to another cavern whose main
feature was a large depression in the ground filled with water. Phoebe looked
around her in amazement. The size of this place was awe inspiring, especially
since it had been all dug out by hand with no modern tools. The bath was
roughly the size of a standard Olympic pool and from the amount of steam
rising over the water, it was heated in some way, possible by some natural
hot spring deep in the mountain. Petals floated on the water's surface and
the scent of perfume and oils pervaded the room. Naked women sat around the
pool's edge, dangling their feet in the water as they chatted or ate fruits
from golden dishes set around the room at intervals. Others swam through the
water leaving ripples in their wake, then stepped out of the pool, their
bodies glistening wetly in the yellow torchlight as they dried themselves
off. Several women had paired off in couples and seemed to be making out ...
Phoebe shook her head in slight disapproval, these people had sex on their
minds.

Arya suddenly laughed and clapped her hands together startling Phoebe out of
her reverie.

"This place is beautiful!" she cried "I've never seen such a thing before.
Come on Phoebe ..." she grabbed her hand and pulled her along "... you too,
Melia, Raiset, come, let us bathe."

Phoebe let herself be guided towards the pool and sat down on the edge,
feeling the warm water lap around her ankles, before sliding in. It had
been more than a week since she'd last had a bath and that had been at the
Halliwell Manor back in modern day San Francisco, a bath whose hot water
didn't work properly no matter how long Leo tinkered with the old pipes.
This seemed like heaven compared to that and all her worries and fears and
the gangrapes she'd endured were forgotten as she, Arya, Melia and Raiset
as well as the other girls from Master Vyrag's caravan swam and giggled as
they splashed water at each other and chased each other around the pool.

After a while, Phoebe felt her skin tingling from too much immersion in the
warm water and reluctantly stepped out of the pool and sat on one of the fur
rugs like a few of the other girls had already done. She bit into an apple
from one of the golden dishes and found that it was delicious and much better
than the rice diet she had been surviving on since her capture. She offered
one to Arya who sat next to her.

"Thank you Phoebe."

"It's good isn't it?" she mumbled as she started on her second apple, and
Arya nodded. When Phoebe tossed the core aside she spoke again, "This looks
like something out of the 1001 Arabian Nights" then seeing the blank look
on her friend's face, "It's a book full of stories about places just like
these. Anyway, why do you think we are here?"

Arya looked a bit startled, then she laughed as if Phoebe had been joking.
"We are here for the jobs that we always do, to give pleasure to men, the
guests of the Lord of this castle who have come to watch the fights, like
Master Vyrag. If we are lucky we might even be chosen to be prizes to the
great warriors who will win the fights. That will mean we will belong to
one man only instead of doing several in one day and even more in one
night."

Phoebe had a shocked look on her face. Now, more than ever she had to get out
of this place or she'd be reduced to a common whore, and a slave at that,
getting fucked by whoever fancied banging her ass at the moment.

"I can't stay here" she said earnestly "I have to go and complete my mission
and find Conan ..."

"Conan? Conan the Cimmerian?" a voice said behind them.

Arya and Phoebe turned. It was the woman who had bought them, the woman that
had reminded Phoebe of Catherine Zeta Jones, and she was standing behind
them as naked as they were, her body even more beautiful now that it was
unclothed.

Phoebe nodded, trying to hide the fact that her mouth had dropped open when
she'd seen the how splendid the women looked in the nude.

"Then you're in luck, my girl, because I have just seen him entering the
front gate of Ladna Trul and all the warriors are wondering if he is here to
match his strength against theirs in The Pit."

"Really?" Phoebe's face lit up. Maybe this was just luck or most probably it
was some quirk of fate that she had been taken as a slave to a place where
Conan had been headed. Maybe it had all been part of the spell cast by Grams
or the Book of Shadows that had pre-ordained how this was going to happen.
"I have to meet him."

The woman laughed. "My dear, you must be in such a rush to feel a true
warrior's thick cock inside your body ... don't worry, by this time tomorrow
you will have gotten your fair share of man meat, as will your friend and the
rest of the women in this room."

"But it isn't .." Phoebe said a bit too quickly, feeling her face flushing,
".. I mean, it's not sex I want to meet Conan for .. I'm on a mission of
great urgency, my sisters and I need his help."

"Hush .. you will tell me all about this later and I'll see what I can do for
you, though you must pray to your gods that he will survive the battles here.
Few warriors do, even those of such repute as Conan, I'm afraid. Now, since
I see you have cleansed your body, lie down, let me make you even more
irrestible to men." She showed Phoebe a long necked clay pitcher which had a
beautiful scent coming out of it, like a mix of roses and honey.

Phoebe shrugged and lay back on the fur rug. Now that she knew Conan was here
and that the woman was going to help her contact him she felt she could relax
for a few minutes. "Just one question ..."

"Go ahead, dear"

"Who are you?"

"Oh, I am Princess Hela, daughter of Lord Ragnarok, Keeper of Ludna Trul" she
smiled at Phoebe's startled expression, "You may just call me Hela, but now
enough words, we have ... work .. to do. Grinning, she knelt down next to
Phoebe and poured a little of the scented oil from the pitcher on her flat,
toned stomach and began rubbing it gently over her, starting from her navel
and circling outwards. The scent from the oil was therapeutic and relaxing,
making her skin glow wherever it touched. Hela's hands were expertly
massaging her, and Phoebe sighed as she reached her breasts, rubbing the oil
delicately into the skin of both firm globes, lingering slightly over the
nipples until they had risen stiffly.

"Mmmmmmh" Phoebe mumbled gently as Hela played gently with each nipple,
slowly pulling and twisting each hard bud until fully aroused. "That's feels
so good."

The older woman smiled down at her, "Yes, I'm sure it does. Now turn round,
lay on your stomach."

Phoebe did as she was told. The Princess began to rub down her back with the
oil, starting from her shoulder blades and moving down until she paused at
the small of her back where Phoebe's buttocks rose like small, fleshy hills.
Hela didn't hesitate for long and in moments she was kneading the firm flesh
between her fingers like dough. Without willing it, Phoebe's legs shifted
apart, exposing her genitals.

"Ohhhhh ... I ... no .." a startled Phoebe began as she felt Hela's long
fingers delicately touch her directly on the labia, tracing the outline of
her slit.

"Sssssshhh Phoebe, I will not hurt you. This oil will soothe any pain you
feel down there. One of the guards told me that the Master put you in the
Nubian cage. I know what you must have gone through because when I was your
age I too was taken by several nubian warriors at once ..." a dreamy look
came over her face as she recalled the event, "... but it was I who gave
myself freely to them for I wanted to experience every sexual situation
that the girls I trained would encounter when they were sold."

Phoebe looked around over her shoulder her eyes open wide in surprise at the
woman's revelation but before she could say something Hela had poured some of
the oil directly between her legs making Phoebe quiver as the liquid felt
cold against her warm skin. Then Phoebe's mind blanked as the Princess'
fingers went to work directly on her pussy, rubbing and spreading the oil
around until she felt a liquid fire rush into her loins. Phoebe's labia had
spread apart under Hela's expert touch and two well lubricated fingers pushed
inwards, coating the vaginal walls with the soothing yet fiery touch of the
fragrant oil.

Phoebe had never experienced anything like this before and she was in such
ecstasy as Hela fingered her cunt that she didn't notice that all the other
women in the pool cavern had paired off and were massaging each other with
the oil. This was a common ritual here, especially before a Great Fight was
about to commence as the women prepared themselves both mentally and
physically for the endless hours of sex they'd have to endure in the coming
days - reduced to mere sexual objects as they pleased several gladiators at
once, most of whom would step into the Pit and to their certain deaths only
hours later. Some of the women glanced sullenly in Phoebe's direction,
knowing that the young woman had been given the highest honor of having
been chosen as the prize of the ultimate winner of the Great Fight. They
knew because it was Princess Hela herself who was preparing her.

Oblivious to all this, Phoebe moaned with pleasure as the fingers caressed
and probed all the right spots as they reached knuckle-deep inside her,
Hela's hand twisting in a clockwise direction on each thrust. Her breathing
quickened and was soon coming in rapid gasps ... she was on the verge of
coming when Hela's fingers slowed down and stopped, bringing Phoebe back
from the very edge of orgasm, leaving her unsatisfied, her body literally
trembling with unfulfilled lust.

"Why?" Phoebe croaked as her breathing became normal again and she looked
back at Hela in surprise and feeling somewhat angry at having been treated
in such a manner.

Hela smiled at her as she wiped her hands off on a piece of cloth a girl
had brought her. "It is how it is done, dear. How it has been done for
hundreds ... thousands of years, as it is described in the old texts. Now
you are prepared for a true warrior, with whom you will unleash your lust
to the fullest, to please him in a way no other woman can."

"But I am on a quest to find Conan, not fuck him!" Phoebe retorted angrily
her temper rising as she got tired of being treated like a dumb, sexual
object.

"No one ever said your quest would be easy, none are" Hela replied, patting
Phoebe on her buttocks as she got up, "but since you have chosen to come to
Ladna Trul in such a manner, brought here as a pleasure girl by one of the
caravans, then you shall fulfill your destiny" Hela's voice turned steely
as her eyes looked directly into Phoebe's, "or else I will consider you a
warrior, an Amazon, who has come here to participate in the Great Fight and
then if you are lucky you will meet Conan ... but in a battle to the death!
Is that what you want?"

A silence had fallen across the cavern, the only sound the lapping of the
water against the pool's rocky walls, as all the oil-coated women turned to
look at their Mistress.

"No" Phoebe said rather meekly. All she'd seen and experienced this last week
had thorougly convinced her that she was in an age of barbarians who either
fucked or fought. She'd choose the former anytime, especially after she'd
seen the range of weapons these people used at the inn where she'd arrived in
this rather unsettling past.

Suddenly, a loud moan echoed through the cavern, like a drawn out, low
pitched trumpet blast. Everyone one looked up then the entire room erupted
in a frenzy of motion as the women got up, all chattering excitedly and
rushed for the various exits.

Phoebe looked up inquisitively at Hela.

"The Horn has sounded. The opening ceremony will start soon. Hurry! Wear
these ..." she took some clothes from the hands of the girl who was waiting
on her and handed them to Phoebe, "... then follow that guard. I will see
you later." She helped Phoebe to her feet, then kissed her on the forehead.
She began to walk away, then turned around suddenly and walked back to
Phoebe, putting her arms around her, both woman's full breasts squashed
against each other and kissed her again this time passionately on the mouth.
Then smiling to herself, she turned and ran for side tunnel, leaving Phoebe
gaping open mouthed after her.

"Mistress? Shall I help you with your robes?" the girl asked.

"Eh? What?" Phoebe looked at the girl. She looked no older than fifteen.

"There is no need, I will help her" Arya had remained next to Phoebe all the
while but only now that they were the only people left in the cavern had she
spoken up. She too had been subjected to the ritual of the oil and she too
was fully primed for giving pleasure to a warrior.

The young girl bowed and left.

"Here" Arya took the clothes from Phoebe "turn around let me get you
dressed." Phoebe turned around and spotted the guard Hela had mentioned
standing silently several metres away. She suddenly felt very self conscious
again, standing nude in front of a man and she covered her breasts with one
hand. Arya giggled, then when she saw Phoebe's look of consternation she
explained.

"He's probably a eunuch" she said making a cutting motion between her
fingers.

"Oh!" but that didn't really put Phoebe at ease as she felt the guard's eyes
on her naked back. She began to get dressed with Arya's help but in the end
the clothing, if it could be called clothing, didn't make much of a
difference.

The top piece which was supposed to cover her breasts was a four inch wide
sash of silk woven so finely that it was almost transparent. The bottom piece
was almost non-existant except for a belt of gold coins that went around her
hips with a small flap of the same silk material on the front and the back,
barely covering half of her butt, and leaving very little to the imagination
to anyone who glanced at her. Sandals with straps that were supposed to be
tied around her legs to just below her knees completed the outfit and they
were probably the most practical part of it since they protected her feet
from the rocky floor.

"Better than being naked I guess" she said finally trying to find a positive
side to her situation. Arya shrugged, then nodded, but to her it didn't make
much of a difference since she didn't have the same 20th century inhibitions
that Phoebe had. It was Phoebe's turn to help her friend into the sexy dress
and when they were ready they followed the guard out of the bathing room,
into a tunnel that angled upwards into the mountain which got steadily
steeper until it became a flight of stairs hewn out of the rock itself.

* * *

When the horn echoed through Ladna Trul, Conan and his companions had been
inside the fortress for several hours, moving from caravan to caravan packed
into the immense hall trying to locate the witch. Malak swore each time he
stepped into a pile of shit left behind by the numerous beasts of burden -
from horses to oxen to camels - that had been dragging wagons or were piled
high with panniers carrying food and other items.

"For one who proclaims to be a thief, I expected you to be more nimble" Akiro
smirked.

"For a great wizard like yourself, I expected you to guide us to the witch
hours ago" Malak retorted after uttering an oath that had Akiro's mother
copulating with donkeys and pigs to conceive him.

Conan stopped and looked up as the horn's moan died down. Everybody in the
cavern was heading inwards, deeper into the mountain and since they hadn't
seen a single woman anywhere near the now deserted caravans, Conan decided
it was best to follow everyone else. The tunnel they chose to follow emptied
out into an even bigger cavern that the one they'd come from. It was shaped
like an amphitheatre with an oval empty space of bare rock right at the
bottom with wide, stepped levels all around it. From the top most level,
someone down below in the arena would look like a small figure, such was the
height. The place was packed with people and more streamed out of the tunnels
staggered at intervals around each level, similar to the one Conan had
stepped out of. He looked around slowly, taking in the awesome sight though
he remained stoically silent as Malak and Akiro ooohed and aaaahed behind
him.

"That is the fabled Pit" Akiro was saying "I have heard stories about this
place but I would never have imagined setting my eyes on it."

Something caught Conan's eye and he looked up, a quarter of the way around
the cavern and two level higher than they were, just as several trumpets
blasted and the place fell into silence.

On a raised platform on one of the levels was a large enclosure, with
colorful banners draped across it covered with the insignia of Ladna Trul.
An imposing figure was sitting on a wide, cushioned throne surrounded by
several people. Some were men in scarlet robes - guards or advisors. There
were several scantily clad girls sitting around on the floor at his feet
and a beautiful woman standing at his side, she too wearing very little.
From the back of the enclosure a guard strode forward, pushing two young
women in front of him and made one of them recline on a couch to the left
of throne.

"Lord Ragnarok!" Akiro whispered "Keeper of Ladna Trul"

Malak was shifting his feet nervously as he touched Conan on his biceps.
Conan looked down at him.

"What?"

"The woman ... the woman ... that's her ..."

"Which one?"

"The one on the couch next to the big guy with the fancy helmet ..." he said
loudly then his voice lowered into a whisper as several people around them
gave him angry glances, "... I'm sure she's the girl from the inn."

Conan didn't reply but the grip on his sword tightened as he saw the number
of guards that surrounded the enclosure.

Lord Ragnarok rose to speak and his voice could be heard throughout the vast
cavern.

"You have come from great distances to take part in the Great Fight, you have
travelled for weeks and months and faced dangers, yet here you are, ready to
fight to the death, to fight for the honor of having fought at Ladna Trul
and for those who remain alive, to be showered with riches and beautiful
women ..." he paused and spread his arms "... and for one of you, the winner,
who shall become Guardian of Ladna Trul will have immense riches bestowed
upon him and will take this woman, the most beautiful of those in this
fortress, into his possession." He motioned with one hand at the woman to his
left and she got up and turned around slowly as the thousands of people in
the amphitheatre awwwed and ahhhhh with appreciation at her beauty.

"I'm sure now, that's definitely her" Malak whispered "there's no way I
can mistake such a beautiful body even though she was rutting with the
Northerners and half covered with their bodies."

Lord Ragnarok continued in his booming voice, "Tomorrow the fights shall
begin and The Pit will be stained red with your blood, but tonight we feast
and make merry! Bring in the girls!" he shouted and sat down.

Music from stringed instruments started playing and out of the tunnels
streamed several hundred girls all dressed in a variety of sexy outfits made
out of string or semi-transparent silk that didn't cover a single inch of
their flesh. They carried large trays piled high with food, others pitchers
of ale which they began handing out to the warriors, traders and slavers that
were packed into the amphitheatre. When they were done, some ran back into
the tunnels to get more food for the hungry warriors while others allowed
themselves to be groped and touched all over their hot bodies. It wasn't long
before the women were shoved to the ground and horny warriors went down on
them, engorged cocks penetrating aroused cunts as screams of pleasure and
obscene shouts of encouragement from those watching the copulations echoed
through the cavern.

Below, in the Pit itself, several naked women danced and gyrated in time with
the lively music watched by those who hadn't yet found a female to please
them.

Conan sat on the floor, cross-legged and ate, taking bites out of a hunk of
mutton. A very pretty woman, with long black hair tied into a ponytail came
up to him. She tossed her empty tray aside and bent over him, running her
finges lightly over his bulging, muscular arms. Smiling at him, she put an
arm around his thick neck and sat next to him but he ignored her. Still
smiling, she playfully ran her hand down his bare chest, lingering over
some of his old scars until she reached the top of his loin cloth. The
woman cooed in delight as she felt the massive bulge hidden behind this
obstacle and was about to grab it when Conan put a massive hand around her
delicate wrist.

"No" he uttered.

"What?" the girl gasped, then she smiled sweetly at him, batting her eyelids,
"oh so you want to touch me? You want to throw me to the ground and ravage my
beautiful body?"

"No" he said again, barely taking notice of her as she pressed her firm,
round breasts into his arm, her nipples already hard.

She looked confused. She wasn't used to someone refusing her, certainly not
such a virile hunk of a warrior. In fact they usually forced themselves upon
her even when she didn't wish it, yet here she was being ignored. She frowned
and pouted. "Hey, don't tell me you like boys? If you do you're out of luck,
because Lord Ragnarok had them all castrated" she giggled as if finding it
funny, but the guy was still ignoring her.

"Don't worry, lovely, he has his mind on someone else and when he does that
not even Krom himself will make him budge."

She turned and saw a little man, grinning lecherously at her his eyes
wavering between her face and her bare breasts. He reached out and put a hand
on her hip, moving down her thigh. She batted the hand away and stood up.
This was too much!

She snorted in disgust. "Get your grubby little paw away from me. I'd go
with your warrior friend but you are way below my standard" the woman said
haughtily enough to hurt Malak's feelings.

"Hey, I heard Lord Ragnarak say that we had to make merry and I want to make
merry with you" Malak said but she turned away, her ponytail tossing to one
side as she went to find another warrior who had balls. "Wait, wait .." Malak
shouted as he fished into the pouch at his waist and pulled out a bright
green emerald as big as the tip of his thumb. It was one of the items he'd
stolen from someone at the inn a week ago ... or maybe it was from the silk
merchant whose shop they'd raided a month ago, Malak couldn't remember which.
Wherever it had come from it seemed to have an effect on the sexy woman as
she stopped, her eyes glinting in the torchlight as she studied the gem in
his hand.

"This is yours if you please me" Malak waved the emerald about, smiling as he
saw her eyes follow it greedily.

The frown on her face became a smile, her full lips and wide mouth the
promise of an interesting time for Malak as she nodded.

"For that I will do your other friend also" she said in a husky voice.
Sitting next to Malak, Akiro's mumbled incantations got louder as he shut
his eyes and drops of sweat beaded on his brow.

"I don't think you'll need to" Malak said after looking at Akiro for a few
moments.

For a moment the woman looked puzzled, this never had happened to her before,
two men in a row refusing her sexy body. "Strange friends you've got."

"Never mind them, come and meet my best friend" the thief grinned as he
whipped out his hardening cock from within his pants. Malak leaned back and
let out a sigh of contentment as the women knelt before him and lowered her
head between his legs, her luscious mouth closing wetly around his penis.
For a moment he glanced towards Conan wondering if he had any objection.
After all, she had offered herself to Conan not him, yet Conan was still
eating slowly, square jaw set hard as he looked into the distance, his eyes
fixed on Lord Ragnarok's enclosure where the woman he had vowed to save was
sitting. Then thoughts of Conan, witches and risky quests left his mind
completely as the woman's long and wriggling tongue began to do something
wonderful to his penis.

* * *

Phoebe looked down at the amphitheatre in awe. It was several times the size
of the Coliseum in Rome which she had visited on a vacation once. There must
have been several thousand people milling around down there. She listened to
Lord Ragnarok's speech and got up when she was told to, too stunned to feel
embarrassed by the thousands of eyes upon her almost naked body, hardly
believing that she, Phoebe Halliwell, had been chosen to become the prize in
some gladiatorial contest. When she sat down again, Hela had smiled at her
and nodded her head slightly as if for a job well done. Then the music had
started and the girls had ran in and she watched in disbelief as an orgy on
a massive scale began, with girls taking numerous partners and performing
all sorts of sexual acts that Phoebe had never heard of right before her
eyes.

Beside her Lord Ragnarok was speaking to his daughter, Hela. "You have
chosen wisely, she is a most beautiful woman, a great prize for the Fight's
champion." He looked sideways at Phoebe and grinned from beneath his thick
beard. "I might even consider taking her myself tonight."

"Oh father!" Hela exclaimed "you know you cannot do that. It is the law,
she cannot be touched except by the winner of the Great fight."

Lord Ragnarok considered it for a moment, then laughed. "I am the Lord of
this stronghold and I will change the law whenever it suits me." He reached
for Phoebe and grabbed a wrist, pulling her towards him. Phoebe knew what was
coming next. Another fuck. With this ridiculous martinet who called himself a
Lord. God, he must have lice in that beard of his, Phoebe thought shuddering
in disgust. But then the grip on her wrist eased and she looked up in
surprise.

"Dada, dear, you know you cannot do that ... anyway, why would you want her
when you always have me?" Hela was saying as her father laughed and grabbed
her from around her waist. She sat on his lap, grinding her fine bottom
suggestively against something stiff and hard. She nuzzled up to his face,
kissing the lobe of his ear and he cupped one of her tits in his large hand.

"Hela" he groaned "you know I cannot resist such a temptation." His fingers
found her nipples and twisted them slowly, while his other hand slid beneath
her ass as he pulled out his dick from under several layers of the ceremonial
robes he was wearing. She raised herself a bit as she felt his erection flail
about under her, then lifting the rear flap of her skimpy dress, she sat down
again, biting on her lower lip as his cock slid into her vagina on the first
attempt.

Phoebe's eyes bulged as she saw the lovely woman who had made love to her
barely an hour ago get nailed by her father, right here in public. This was
crazy! Well, at least she should be thankful that it was Hela and not her.
Indeed, as Hela was bouncing up and down on Ragnarok's lap, moaning with
pleasure and mumbling, "Oh yeah, dada, your cock is so hard ... fuck me in
my wet cunt ... yes, father, faster, faster!" she looked for a moment at
Phoebe and winked at her then went back to tossing her head as her cries
filled the air of the royal enclosure.

On the floor next to her, Arya sat eating grapes from a bowl she had been
given, quite content to be considered Phoebe's hand maiden and not down in
the amphitheatre doing her job as a whore like all the rest of the women.
She smiled up at Phoebe and offered her a grape, which Phoebe took. They
sat and ate and watched the orgy going on around them including the
incestuous relationship taking place just a couple of paces away - two sexy,
beautiful, almost naked women yet the only two without one or more cocks
stuffed up their orifices like the rest of the girls in the cavern.

It was much later that Arya leaned up towards Phoebe and whispered in her
ear, "There is this guy ... so muscular, so hot .. he's been staring at you
all evening and I swear he hasn't touched any of the girls who've talked to
him" she giggled, "I think he wants you."

"Where is he?"

"Down there" Arya pointed and Phoebe looked along her arm until she spotted
the warrior who her friend was talking about, some two levels below theirs,
a quarter of the way around the amphitheatre. From this distance she couldn't
make out his facial features but something told her that this was important,
possibly the person whom she was looking for. Could it be? Could it really be
Conan? Was her quest ... and her stay in this disgusting era ... almost at an
end?

She motioned towards the guard who had brought them here. "Do you see that
man there? The one sitting alone without a woman?" He nodded. Phoebe thought
quickly, what could she do? What message could she send him? She couldn't
think of anything in particular then she had an idea. She ripped of a strip
of material from the lower piece of her almost nonexistent outfit and using
grapejuice squeezed out of one of the large grapes as a sort of ink, she made
a rough sketch of the Charmed Ones sign, the three interlocking leaves. She
didn't know why she did it or why he would understand what she'd drawn but
she had learnt to trust her premonitions.

"Give this to that man" she ordered the guard and he bowed slightly and left.
She was pleasantly surprised that he obeyed her. Well, being the Prize for
the Guardian of Ladna Trul must have its perks, she decided. Now the only
thing to do was sit this out and hope she was rescued by the same person
who'd she come to contact in the first place.

Beside her, the moans and screams of father and daughter had reached a peak
and she flinched in disgust as Lord Ragnarok came, some of the squirting
fountain of his semen coming dangerously close to hitting Phoebe.

* * *

Malak had cum disappointingly fast in the whore's mouth but there was no
way he could resist her snake-like tongue's incredible performance. Compared
to the cheap whores and peasant's daughters he usually frequented she was a
queen, a goddess even. After swallowing his seed, glaring at him all the
while, she reached out for the emerald he'd promised her but he kept it out
of her grasp.

"Not so quickly" he told her grinning, "did you think you'll get this just
for sucking me off?"

She growled, "What do you want?"

Malak rubbed his hands in glee, "Come closer, come sit on me."

The woman obeyed reluctantly her greed getting the better of her. That
emerald would probably buy her out of slavery and possibly have enough gold
left over to let her open a whorehouse with girls of her own. So she sat on
Malak's lap and let the little bastard rub his greasy hands over her tits,
pawing at her nipples until they felt sore, then down between her legs. She
braced herself for a rough fingering but was surprised at how nimble his
fingers were as he dipped them into her excited quim while stroking her
clitoris. Her reluctance to have anything to do with the little man soon
disappeared as her years of training as a pleasure woman took over and she
moaned loudly as his fingers reached deeper and deeper into her, until she
wasn't feigning her cries of pleasure at all.

Soon Malak was very hard again, his erection insistently demanding some form
of relief from where it was squashed rather pleasingly under the woman's
butt.

"Get up and turn around" he ordered "now get down on all fours." He literally
drooled as she obeyed, her wet pink inner lips glistening in the torchlight
as she knelt before him. Malak eagerly slid his tool into the whore's waiting
love tunnel and humped her, grabbing onto her long ponytail like he would tug
on the reins of a horse. He pulled out after a particularly long stroke that
had made her shudder with excitement and rammed his cock in again, this time
slightly further up and into a tighter place. She wailed, a long drawn out
scream before turning round, her eyes glistening with tears of pain.

Through clenched teeth, as he fucked her asshole, she said "You bastard, if
you don't give me that emerald when you're done I'll cut your balls off."

"Sure, sure, you'll get your bauble" Malak grunted, as a haze of orgasmic
pleasure clouded his eyes. He'd never been in a tighter place before and he
was going to get his money's worth. Getting hold of that emerald had been
hard work and he wasn't about to give it away for free! Grunting loudly he
reamed her ass until he couldn't hold it any longer and blew his load over
her butt cheeks and across her back. He fell to his knees feeling weak at
having come twice so soon together and before he knew it the woman had
snatched the emerald from his hand where he'd been holding it and after
giving him a look of disdain, stalked away looking for a real warrior to
spend the rest of the night with. As she left she bumped into the eunuch
whom Phoebe had sent with her message and she shook her head in disgust.

The guard stood in front of Conan. "The Prize sent you this" he gave Conan
the bit of ripped silk, bowed and left.

Conan studied the piece of material in silence, then unsheathed his
massive sword and held it up to the light as if examining it for any flaws.
Satisfied, he resheathed it and remained seated, staring pensively up at
the enclosure.

"What is it?" Akiro asked. Conan handed him the material Phoebe had sent him.
Akiro examined the symbol, comparing it to the one on the sheath of Phoebe's
dagger that Malak had stolen.

"Yes, it is her. This confirms it."

"Ha! See, I told you I have an eye for the ladies" Malak said. He had a silly
grin on his face and he felt worn out, but pleasantly so. That bitch had been
expensive but she'd been a great fuck, the best he'd ever had!

"So, what will we do?" Akiro asked, "shall we try to save her tonight when
everyone is in drunk stupor?"

"No! I will fight. I will win. She shall be given to me!"

Malak and Akiro exchanged glances but they weren't going to call Conan crazy
to his face. If he wanted to fight, then it was his business, he was the big,
muscled barbarian after all. Malak shrugged and then turned to a passing
girl, pinching her bottom.

"Hey, beautiful, what would you do for this ruby....?"

* * *

The next day the amphitheatre was packed to the brim again, and the pleasure
girls were distributing food and ale, but many of the warriors of the night
before were nowhere to be seen. They were deep within the mountain at the
lowest level, preparing for their fights, choosing their favorite weapons
from the well stocked armory, making sure that each blade was sharp and ready
to skewer and rip apart their opponents.

Phoebe was again in the royal enclosure sitting next to Lord Ragnarok. Hela
had been there for a few minutes but she'd left on some errand. Suddenly the
trumpets blared and the atmosphere was electric as silence fell in the large
cavern.

Far down below, in the Pit - the arena where the dancers had been the night
before - two men walked out from tunnels hidden into the rock walls that she
hadn't noticed before. They circled each other for a while, one holding a
dagger in each hand, while the other had some sort of pike. They wore little
armor, just leather pads over several parts of their bodies. They kept
circling until the crowd began to boo, then the guy with the daggers dashed
forward his knives a blur as he swept them about in intricate patterns. The
pikeman staggered back under the assault and Phoebe gasped as blood spattered
from the first wounds. Her thought was, 'Oh god, this is real, they're really
trying to kill each other.'

Of course, Phoebe wasn't new to death, having even caused it herself, but
those who died had been all sorts of demons or warlocks, usually disappearing
in a convenient puff of flame or smoke, leaving nothing behind but a bit of
ash which was easily swept up - though such a menial task was often left to
Leo. In the arena, the pikeman staggered backwards, his weapon clattering to
the ground as he clutched his neck from where a stream of arterial blood
sprayed through his fingers. The crowd roared with approval as Phoebe tried
to look away, but couldn't, morbidly fascinated with what was going on.
Slowly, the pikeman fell but not before he was skewered several times by the
dagger wielding fighter.

Lord Ragnarok put a hand on Phoebe's thigh, rubbing her smooth, warm flesh.
"First kill" he told her grinning, saliva dripping down his beard. The man
was probably aroused by the bloodshed. She shivered in disgust. Then he stood
as the warrior below raised his hands in victory and bowed towards the royal
enclosure.

Another gladiator, this time armed with a trident and a net came out to
challenge the winner. The first fighter's reign as champion didn't last
long - entangled in the net and pierced by the trident as the crowd jeered
his defeat and cheered the new victor.

On and on it went until blood seemed to be sprayed everywhere and bodies lay
around on the floor of the Pit that a pause in the fighting was made until
they were cleared. Phoebe feeling sick at the carnage shut her eyes as Arya
held her hand, though the younger women seemed to be enjoying herself and
joined in the cheering and an occasional shout of encouragement to the
fighters below.

Lord Ragnarok's hand returned, this time groping roughly at Phoebe's breasts
and it took all of her self-control not to grab the guy's wrist and flip him
over. That would be counter-productive to her quest and she'd probably end up
down in the Pit herself, so she suffered in silence.

"You!" Ragnarok ordered, "come here." Phoebe breathed a sigh of relief when
she realised he was talking to Arya. The young woman got up from next to
Phoebe's feet and bowed before her master. "Suck me!"

She knelt down before him and pulled up the loin cloth he was wearing,
grabbing his thick cock in her hand and then lowered her mouth on it. In
no time at all she was making loud, slurping noises as she gave him an
energetic blowjob and he lay back in his throne, his eyes on the fight
below. He continued toying with Phoebe's breasts but his attention was
elsewhere.

* * *

After four days, Phoebe yawned as another gladiator was dismembered. It had
become a routine. They'd sit and watch the fighting all day from their
enclosure, with girls bringing trays laden with food and drink so they never
went hungry. Lord Ragnarok's hands were constantly roving all over her
semi-naked body though Phoebe considered herself fortunate that he didn't go
beyond that. Her friend and fellow sex-slave Arya, however, had borne the
brunt of his arousal and if Phoebe had kept score correctly, the seventeen
year old had given him fifteen blowjobs, got fucked in the cunt eight times
and twice up the ass. When they were alone in the evening of the third day,
after another round of bathing and massaging with the potent oil, Phoebe had
asked her how she could keep going at it like this, but Arya had shrugged and
smiled saying it was her duty to please her master. Phoebe had shaken her
head, and then they'd both slept curled up together on a bear rug, keeping
each other warm as the flames from the torches died down and the air in the
caverns cooled.

Phoebe had noticed that Princess Hela hadn't been around much in these four
days, after that incestuous episode with her father. She did spot her far
down below in the amphitheatre once watching the fighting from up close. In
fact, Hela was busy down in the tunnels and gladiator preparation rooms,
providing encouragement to the fighters on their way to a certain death by
performing fellatio upon them and in some cases, the relatively good looking
ones, allowing them to fuck her wildly.

Today, she stood before Conan the Cimmerian studying his bulging muscles as
two girls oiled him up in preparation for his first fight. When they were
done, she snapped her fingers and the girls scurried away, while her two
guards stepped back into the shadows. Alone with Conan, she sat down next
to him on a rough wooden bench and touched his arm, caressing his skin.

"This girl, the Prize, she says she wants to meet you. Do you know why?" Hela
asked.

Conan turned to look at her but remained silent. After a moment he shook his
head.

"Is this why you fight? You wish to win the girl for yourself?"

"Yes."

"So the great barbarian fancies having a beautiful girl to own all by
himself" she laughed "will you share her with you companions or will she be
yours alone?"

Conan's square jaw twitched for a moment, but he didn't speak.

"The strong, silent type" Hela sighed "Oh well, for Phoebe's sake, I hope
you win because from what I've seen you're the best of this sorry lot of
gladiators." She reached down under his loincloth and before he had time to
react she was holding his cock in her hands, rolling the foreskin back and
forth until she got a reaction out of it. "Yes, definitely one of the best
and one of the biggest too" she said in a soft voice, then got on her knees.
Silence fell in the chamber as Hela's mouth was too occupied to speak and
Conan stoically sat, almost unmoved by what she was doing to him though his
grip on the bench was so strong that the wood began to splinter under his
fingers.

* * *

When Hela arrived at the Royal enclosure and sat next to her father she was
still wiping off the last bit of Conan's seed from her face and neck. When
he'd blown his load it had been as if a great dam had collapsed, the pent up
river of semen hitting her with almost painful force.

"I see you've been having yourself a bit of fun" Ragnarok said in an offended
tone as if he'd been betrayed by his daughter.

"So have you, father. I heard you've been enjoying the new girl I bought from
Master Vyrag."

"Well .. yes .. I have .." her father was at a loss for words ".. but you
know it is you who I always want to feel on my stiff rod during the fights,
my lovely daughter."

"Yes, dada dearest, you are my only true love" she said leaning over and
kissed him on his thickly bearded cheek while he patted her loudly on her
firm buttocks. A strangled squeak escaped out of Phoebe's mouth and they
both looked at her.

"Phoebe, you might wish to watch the next fight closely. It is your favored
warrior, Conan, who will be taking part."

"Oh .. really? Have you seen him?"

"Yes, I even spoke to him minutes ago. We had a very interesting ..." Hela
paused "... uhm .. conversation." She ran her tongue over her full lips for
a second as if tasting something then she laughed as Phoebe looked at her
not understanding what Hela was leaving unsaid. "Look, there he is ..."

She pointed down into the arena as the trumpets blared and Conan strode out,
massive sword in hand to face the current warrior champion who had already
killed three of his previous opponents. Phoebe leaned forward to watch the
fight unfold, as Conan parried stroke after stroke from the gladiator facing
him. It was over in mere minutes. The severed head of Conan's opponent rolled
across the arena as the crowd cheered louder than they had cheered throughout
the last four days. Conan's reputation had preceded him as rumors flew about
his great feats of courage and daring.

Much to her consternation Phoebe found herself clapping and laughing as the
blood still jetted from the headless corpse's neck ... but now, the only way
to save herself and her sisters was for Conan to win and then help her defeat
the snake demon, so she cheered him on as she would a baseball or football
player back in her own era.

* * *

One after the other they went down, slashed, ripped open, riven, hammered ...
Conan realised victory after victory ...

The crowd roared as Conan slew an 8 foot tall Nubian warrior who had been one
of the favorites at the start of the Great Fight. His sword and arms were
slick with the blood of his opponents as he turned to face a heavily armored
gladiator carrying a short sword and a flailing mace. The mace lashed through
the air and its chain curled around Conan's sword, blocking it. Conan tugged
but the sword wouldn't break free. The warrior advanced on him, lips curled
up in a grin beneath the iron mask that his the rest of his face. He was the
last gladiator, the only one besides Conan who had reached this far in the
Great Fight! He knew he would be the one to defeat the mighty Conan, Princess
Hela had told him as much before going down on his cock. Ah he could already
taste such a sweet victory and he imagined burying his face between the
thighs of the beautiful young woman who was to be his Prize, smothering his
face with her cunt, drinking the nectar of her loins ....

.... he gurgled in surprise, ripped from his daydream as something tightened
around his neck. He couldn't breathe .. no, this wasn't right, he was
destined to be the Champion, Guardian of Ladna Trul ... but his vision was
darkening as he flailed out wildly with his sword but cleaving only air.
Darkness came for him and he was no more. He didn't hear the crowd who had
risen up as one chanting Conan's name.

In his moment of distraction Conan had rushed up behind him and looped the
chain of the warrior's own flail several times around his neck. Pushing him
to the ground and placing a foot on the small of his back he had pulled hard
on his own sword still entangled with one end of the flail until the warrior
stopped struggling, strangled by his own weapon.

Conan stood at the center of the arena, sweat and blood coating his bulging
muscles as he raised his sword slowly above his head, the jewel encrusted
hilt catching the light. He roared, a guttural, savage, wordless sound that
echoed through the vast amphitheatre and then the crowd shouted and cheered
so loudly that Phoebe feared the noise would bring the entire mountain
crashing down on them.

"Come, my dear" Hela shouted in her ear, "Let's go and meet your new owner."
She led Phoebe out of the cavern, followed closely followd by Arya and Hela's
personal guards. Their destination was a rectangular chamber hewn out of
rock. Along the walls on both sides, large, open chests were packed to the
brim with gold coins and precious gems of all shapes and colors as well as
rolls of expensive silks and cloth and other precious ornaments. It was a
treasure room!

From the door at the far end, Conan strode in, having been cleansed of blood
and sweat and perfumed with scented oils. He still held his sword in his hand
and he didn't seem the least bit weary after his many battles. He walked up
to where Hela, Phoebe and Arya stood and then knelt on one knee before them,
bowing his head.

"Conan, winner of the Great Fight, uncontested champion, slayer of all I
declare you Guardian of Ladna Trul!" Princess Hela proclaimed. She touched
his shoulder. "You may get up now."

Conan stood. "Around you are precious gems and gold, take all you can carry.
Yes, take all that your companions can carry too" she added smiling, having
seen Akiro and Malak step into the room, Malak with a look of awe and greed
on his face as he rushed from treasure chest to treasure chest, pouring the
gold coins through his fingers.

Hela led Phoebe and Arya to a large rug in the middle of the room. "She is
yours" she told Conan, "take her now, let her satisfy your every perversion,
let her please your urges, let her become the receptacle for your seed!"

"I .. I .." Phoebe mumbled suddenly awestruck by being in such close
proximity to Conan, almost two feet taller than her, every part of his body
covered in bulging muscles.

Conan caught her hand and held it almost delicately, then sat down on the
rug helping her down next to him. She trembled slightly as his hands slowly
removed the semi-transparent sash of silk material that barely covered her
breasts. Each of her breasts filled his hands as he squeezed them together,
his thumb rolling over her nipples exciting them into stiffness.

Phoebe suddenly realised that they had an audience. Princess Hela was
standing over her, grinning. Arya had become her shadow, sitting next to
her and Conan. Conan's companions, Malak and Akiro had stopped sifting
through their newly found riches and were staring at the little love scene.
She blushed brightly, "No .. I .. can't we have .. some privacy..?"

Conan didn't speak, neither did anyone else, nor did anyone leave. He held
her shoulders and pushed her down slowly until she was on her back ignoring
her mumbled complaints until she too fell silent, resigned to what was going
to happen to her. As the great warrior continued to touch her body, she felt
a tingling sensation and wetness between her legs. Involuntarily a moan
escaped her lips as he reached down between her thighs and felt her moist
labia with a finger. She felt Arya's hands slide beneath her back to undo
the lower portion of her outfit and she silently thanked her for the gold
pieces that formed the belt were digging into her flesh.

Conan straddled Phoebe's thighs and removed his loin cloth, tossing it aside.
His erection was enormous, making Phoebe as well as the others in the room
gasp with awe. The warrior touched Phoebe's slit again, inserting a couple of
fingers this time then satisfied that she was wet enough and ready for him he
rose up and then lowered his body over hers.

Phoebe felt the tip of his massive penis press against her vaginal opening,
then slide smoothly into her meeting very little resistance as she spread her
legs wide, and then hooked her ankles across his buttocks. Slowly, he pumped
his cock into her as he stared at her beautiful face. She looked back at his
hard eyes, his square jaw, the slight gap in his upper teeth as he began to
grunt like a rutting pig while increasing the pace at which he was fucking
her until it felt to Phoebe as if a jackhammer was having a go at her pussy!

She moaned loudly in utter bliss, forgetting that they weren't alone, the
only thing in the entire universe that mattered was his pounding cock,
reaching deep into her body right down to her cervix finding her erogenous
zone on almost every stroke. Her nails clawed into his back barely leaving
a mark on his thick skin. She screamed loudly as an orgasmic wave spread
through her, vaginal muscles clenching and unclenching rapidly around
Conan's relentless rod. He didn't even seem to notice, no pause in his
tempo, no slowing down to allow her to enjoy her release. Instead Phoebe
felt his pace increase as sweat beaded his face and dripped down onto her,
mixing with her own. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she felt herself
on the verge of blacking out so intense was the second orgasm that crashed
over her within a minute of the first.

Then blackness.

Light. Blinding light. A strobe going off inside her head.

A scream. Her own voice crying out.

Again blackness.

"Phoebe?"

Someone far, far away was calling her name. Someone familiar, yet she
couldn't place the voice. She opened her eyes, and saw Conan's cheek lying
across hers, his breathing labored as he lay on her, his heavy body pinning
her down.

"Phoebe! What are you doing!?"

She looked up and grinned sheepishly at the surprised looks on the faces of
her sisters, Prue and Piper as they looked down at her. Somehow she was back
in the Halliwell Manor's attic, on the floor next to the Book of Shadows.

Had it all been just a dream?

Then she realised she was buck naked, and not only that but Conan ... was
still actually on top of her, his dick still lodged in her overheated vagina!

She gulped. "Hi Prue, hi Piper" she said meekly "I think I've managed to
bring Conan back to help us."

Prue was looking down at her in disdain. Phoebe could almost read her
thoughts, letter by letter. S L U T ! Well, what the heck, it wasn't she
who had asked to be transported back to the past, a barbaric past of sex
slavery and blood sports. Prue should praise her for what she'd done
instead of judging her.

"Help me get this hunk off me sis."

She felt Conan budge slowly, but her sisters were still staring in shock at
her. Maybe the barbarian was regaining his senses? Then she saw Arya tugging
at Conan's muscular frame all by herself, until Phoebe could slide out from
under him, his dick popping out of her pussy with a wet slurp as they
separated.

"Arya!" she gasped, "what are you doing here? How did you ...?"

"I don't know what happened .." the young woman whimpered ".. we were all
in that chamber at Ladna Trul with Princess Hela. I was holding your hand
as Conan went down on you, you were screaming so loud I thought he might be
hurting you and then there was this flash of light and I woke up in this
strange room ..." she looked around a frightened look on her face, "What
sorcery is this?"

"It's ok Arya, these are my sisters, Prue and Piper. We are three witches ...
good witches" she added quickly as Arya cowered away from her in terror "and
I travelled to your time to bring a great warrior to help us vanquish a
demon. A snake like demon, called Thulsa Doom."

"Thulsa Doom!?" Conan had woken slowly and had listened to Phoebe speak. When
he heard the demon's name he got to his feet and grabbed his sword, "I killed
him. Chopped off his head myself. He killed my mother, burnt my village,
destroyed my people, but in the end I found him and got my vengeance. He
cannot be alive!"

"He isn't alive in the normal sense, he's an immortal demon in this age" Prue
told Conan, her eyes flickering down to the massive thing between his legs
which moments ago had been stuffed up her sister. She nervously licked her
full, red lips, then the she shook her head and the moment passed. "Will you
help us defeat him?"

"Yes!" Conan grunted, grabbing the hilt of his sword, "Yes, this time I will
destroy him forever!"

"Good, good" Prue smiled "but I think we'd better get you cleaned up and find
you some clothes." She gingerly put an arm on his shoulder, marvelling at the
tight muscles she felt bulging under his skin as she pushed him towards the
attic door. Before she led him downstairs, she called over her shoulder,
"Piper, fix Phoebe up will you and call Leo, tell him we need his help with
that girl there" she nodded in Arya's direction. "Maybe he'll know how to
send her back to her own time."

"No .. no, I don't want to go back ... Phoebe?" she looked at her
beseechingly.

"Maybe Leo can find a home for her here or something" Phoebe said, "you don't
know what sort of life she's been living, she's a slave forced to have sex
all day long and ...

"Ok, whatever" Prue cut her off in mid word having better things to do than
argue with Phoebe right now, "but get yourself both cleaned up, you look like
two ... whores" Prue wrinkled her nose and left down the stairs with Conan,
just as a swirling pillar of blue and white lights appeared in the attic,
taking the shape of Leo their whitelighter.

"Someone called?" he said smiling before he noticed Phoebe and a strange girl
sitting naked on the floor and his eyes bulged. Arya shrunk back from him,
again terrified by this display of magical powers, but he smiled widely at
her and offered her his hand gently. As Phoebe filled him and Piper in on
what had gone on during her time travelling adventure, the very confused
young woman from ancient times gladly accepted Leo's hand and clung to it
tightly.

* * *

To be continued in Part 2

    

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