2955 BC
2955 BC
Marcella regained consciousness and immediately heard the sound of a crowd all around her. She glanced around and squinted in the bright sun. She was standing atop a pedestal in the middle of a large open area. There were carved, white stone walls surrounding the space. Pillars and colorful paintings of men with animalistic heads decorated the walls. Hundreds of people were gathered and facing towards the center while a line of soldiers carrying spears kept them back. A line of chariots approached the pedestal. The lead chariot had a tall man at the helm wearing a tunic of gold.
https://drive.google.com/file/d/1waD3iKfZYRzgyI9HwJUzl98WKssSP5O8/view?usp=drive_link
The sun was high overhead and scorching hot while the air was dry and burned in her lungs. Marcella was butt naked and surrounded by a gaggle of similarly nude women. She looked down the line and saw she easily had the largest curves on both the top and bottom of her hourglass. This was due to the combination of impossibly wide hips, thick thighs, protruding ass, tightly cinched waist and bountiful breasts. Her tiny feet and hands completed her overtly feminized proportions. While her body was obviously more...developed, she still managed to blend in. Her long, dark hair was the same color and style as the other women, her facial features were young and innocent like the other women, her height put her as the perfect median, and the hairless cleft between her legs was clearly visible and matched every other visible pussy in the row.
Marcella ran her eyes down the line of girls again. No Isla. What had the evil woman done to her? Her thoughts were quickly interrupted as the tall man on the chariot dismounted at the foot of the pedestal and began ascending the stairs. A swathe of older men wearing fancy, expensive robes followed several paces behind him. The tall man was young and handsome. His face was chiseled and vibrant. He had an air of authority and opulent attire complete with a grandiose crown. His aura reminded Marcella of the Indian leader, but turned up another notch. The men following behind didn’t look at the tall man with simple respect, they looked at him with awe.
As the group of men neared, the women surrounding Marcella turned away from the men and the crowd. She quickly followed suit, not wanting to be the odd-one-out. She dropped to her knees and lowered her shoulders exactly like the others did until she was resting on her breasts and squishing them against the rough stone. With her butt in the air and her torso pressed to the ground, Marcella’s asshole and pussy were fully exposed to everybody beyond, but especially the approaching entourage. To the men, Marcella was just another faceless set of holes.
https://drive.google.com/file/d/17ltK9Grmuz4uLxRoZs8NQiZK5BL1RF0r/view?usp=drive_link
The Pharaoh said something loudly in a vivacious tone over the presented bodies of his females subjects. His robed entourage murmured with agreement. Marcella stayed as still as possible while his presence loomed over her and his eyes evaluated her. A sudden spank on her meaty ass cheek almost made her break, but she managed to maintain her composure. The Pharaoh went down the line, smacking, prodding, fingering and generally appraising the women. He made several comments to the men who murmured their agreement. When he had inspected the line, the Pharaoh returned behind Marcella. His shadow cast down on her and he got very close. He shoved his already slick fingers between her exposed labia and spread them open while voicing an observation. His arm wrapped around her torso and squeezed her breast as his fingers flicked between her legs. Marcella took a sharp breath and tried her best to staunch her inevitable arousal. Nonetheless, her slit moistened and coated his fingers. Marcella’s natural lubrication mixed with the natural lubrication of whichever other girl he’d already fingered.
The Pharaoh withdrew his fingers and released Marcella’s breast just as her legs began to quiver. He said something triumphantly and turned away. His shadow moved and he began to shout to the silent crowd. As he did, the old, robed men descended on the women and pulled them to their feet. One man in a particularly extravagant robe hoisted Marcella by each arm. He had frightening scars littering his face and his expression was twisted into a frown. He ordered her in a harsh whisper that she did not understand. His grip was decidedly unfriendly as he tugged her past the orating Pharaoh and down the stone stairs towards the crowd. She noticed each of the other women were being similarly shepherded behind her. Marcella was afraid, but didn’t have any choice in the matter as, despite his age, the man was much stronger and more aggressive than she could hope to overcome. She knew she wasn’t alone in that assessment as the other women submissively allowed themselves to be corralled just like her. She felt extraordinarily soft compared to the man and her feminine body was contrasted starkly against him. She knew half the people descending the stairs were naked women and half were clothed men and, with her jiggle and sway, and with every inch of skin on display, it didn’t take a genius to categorize her as one of the women.
When they were finally on the ground level, Marcella glanced around to the crowd which was captivated by the Pharaoh as he spoke. A group of soldiers were in the middle of the square where the chariots had been. Apparently they had been busy while the Pharaoh was evaluating female genitalia as the chariots were gone. They were setting up a line of wooden structures.
https://drive.google.com/file/d/1QYbPO1M17g97fbuYkND-hNxkyOU9MS3A/view?usp=drive_link
Eight simple, wooden pillories were arranged in two rows with a ninth, much more extravagant pillory placed in between them. This central contraption was trimmed with gold and intricately carved. Marcella was held in place by the scarred man as the other women were dragged by their robed captors. One by one, they were locked into bent over, standing positions until only the central pillory remained unoccupied. Marcella ran her eyes down the row of trapped women and noticed how their posture was adjusted by the men so their bare genitalia was out in the open and easily accessed. The crowd had begun to make noise again and their sound seemed to infiltrate Marcella’s mind. It grew louder as the scarred man tugged at her arm. She knew where he was pulling her. She knew she would soon be bent over with her pussy presented just like the others.
The eyes of the crowd, the robed men, the soldiers, and even the Pharaoh himself followed her movements as the scarred man opened the decorated top of the central pillory. Marcella knew she didn’t have any choice so she took a deep breath and carefully bent down until her head and arms were resting in the open holes. He then slid the wooden top back down and locked it into place. The holes were just large enough for her thin neck and dainty wrists. Her dark hair flowed down her face and her heavy tits pulled towards the ground like fleshy weights. The scarred man pushed down on Marcella’s lower back and tapped the inside of her thigh, urging her to move. She submissively followed his direction by arching her back and widening her stance until she was presenting her snatch perfectly. She couldn’t see the other girls or herself, but Marcella knew she looked just like they did.
She stood in the scorching sun and felt sweat beading on her brow. The air was hot and dry in her lungs and her arched back quickly started to ache. She turned her attention to the crowd and her vision jumped from face to face. They were collectively thin and gaunt while their clothing was a hodge-podge of dirty rags. There were some people sprinkled here and there that were visibly wealthier, but the vast majority appeared to poor peasants. The crowd suddenly grew quiet and Marcella noticed they were watching something behind her. She heard footsteps approaching but couldn’t see who it was. Based on the crowd’s reaction, however, she figured it was the Pharaoh. Her suspicion was confirmed when he began to speak in a loud, clear voice directly behind her.
She had no idea what he was saying, but she listened to his words and pondered the implications of hearing a completely dead language. Never mind that she was splayed out naked in the desert, thousands of years in the past, waiting for sex like an ancient prostitute: It was the insanity that she was really here, standing on the sand, feeling the air in her lungs, and listening to a long dead pharaoh speak in a language nobody in the modern world had ever heard. It made her reflect on her situation and come to the conclusion that she was probably never going back. For all intents and purposes, she [b]was[/b] that ancient prostitute splayed out naked in the desert. Hundreds of generations would pass and her only contribution would be a scant blip on a DNA ancestry test for one of her tens of thousands of great, great, great x200 grandchildren. They would never know her name, hear her voice, see her face or understand her struggles- to future generations she was just ’ancient female ancestor’. Perhaps they would wonder about her. Besides, it wasn’t as if Marcella remembered who she was before this whole ordeal. Maybe it was for the best that she accepted her fate.
Speaking of accepting her fate, Marcella suddenly spotted the old woman’s face in the crowd. She stuck out with her red clothing contrasted against the beige/brown of everybody else.
https://drive.google.com/file/d/1SXMIGslkE9euISnds_cvGIurJeRz2aHG/view?usp=drive_link
She was sitting and panting heavily. The bags under her eyes were thick and a streak of blood flowed from her nose. She looked withered and gaunt with an undeniable weariness projecting from her droopy eyes. The resignation Marcella had been pondering immediately crystalized back into defiance. She could not let the old woman win!
As if sensing her resistance, the old woman sneered at Marcella and gritted her teeth while her eyes glowed. Her weakened shoulders drooped further. The Pharaoh declared something loudly and Marcella looked in the distance as a cart slowly rolled towards the pillories. Before she could make out what it was, however, she felt the warm prodding of an erect penis against her exposed vagina. Her nethers immediately dampened and throbbed with experienced anticipation. She had taken miles of cock and her pussy was reflexively proficient at getting fucked. On top of that, despite her best efforts, fantasies of her defenseless, exposed womanhood being dominated and pounded swirled in Marcella’s staunchly heterosexual and wildly submissive head while the invading prick became more aggressive.
She heard a haughty moan and craned her neck to the right. Out of her periphery, Marcella saw one of the other women getting rhythmically slammed doggy-style by one of the old, robed men. Another moaning sound, this time from the left side, demanded Marcella’s attention and she saw another woman in the same predicament. All at once there were sighs, groans, screams, and grunts. The sound of women over-selling their sexual pleasure rang out up and down the line. The Pharaoh’s voice erupted jubilantly while he plunged his pole into a Marcella’s dripping cooch. He held her flared hips and used her bound sex as a helpless fuck-pillow; burying his erection until he met resistance, then withdrawing and entering again a little deeper. Her hefty tits bounced wildly beneath her and her long, dark hair swayed back and forth in her vision from the force of his hips. She even felt his balls rhythmically slapping her ass. His cock felt nice, but Marcella didn’t feel inclined to join the throng of over-sexed, high-pitched noise. He wasn’t [i]THAT[/i] good!
When he finally bottomed out, Marcella grimaced.
Was that it?
He was definitely on the smaller side! It was almost comical how little she could feel. Mighty Pharaoh, barely able to register sensation in the cunt of a slave-girl!
Among the porn-like moaning all around, Marcella let out a quiet scoff. It was so subtle and slight that she was shocked when she felt Pharaohs body tense up. Had he heard her? He stopped thrusting and Marcella’s stomach dropped. He definitely heard her! His tiny erection started to soften between her labia and she panicked. Her eyes first focused on the burly guards and their assorted weapons then to the crowd and their gaunt, confused stares. What would a Pharaoh do to a slave girl that emasculated him in front of hundreds of his subjects?
With fear for herself and Isla in her heart, Marcella tightened her vaginal walls and pushed her hips back against him. She mustered up the loudest, girliest moan she could and blasted it towards the crowd. She followed it up with a dramatic, high-pitched, orgasmic panting that added to the other women around her. To her relief, the little show perked Pharaoh up and his dick hardened. He started his thrusting once again. She twisted her face in simulated pleasure and giggled like an airhead. Through a curtain of hair, she saw the crowd believed her performance wholeheartedly. Apparently, the Pharaoh did too because he made another prideful proclamation; probably remarking on his own sexual prowess or the orgasmic joy his slave was experiencing. She certainly didn’t give him any reason ro believe otherwise as a stream of near constant porn-quality noise escaped her throat and joined with the others. She looked and sounded every bit of a lowly slave cumming on her master’s cock!
The cart was closer and Marcella could see why it was moving so slowly. She took in a sharp breath and gulped when she saw what was pulling it. A very pregnant, naked Isla crawled in the sand with ropes and straps connecting her to the heavy cart. An armored man holding a leather whip stood in the cart but it was otherwise empty. Isla’s skin was beat red from sunburn and covered in welts. Her back had deep lash marks all along it. The marks oozed with blood and were covered in sand. Her red hair was a tangled, matted mess and a thick gold ring hung from her hose. Her face was bruised and bloody, her lips were cracked and bleeding, her eyes were bloodshot and jaded. She shambled along and looked like she would collapse at any moment.
Marcella giggled to keep up the charade, but her eyes were glued to the depressing scene unfolding in front of her. She heard Isla sobbing into the sand and begging in Gaelic. The old woman was mouthing words towards Isla from her seated position across the courtyard, and the two appeared to be engaging in a back-and-forth conversation. While Marcella attempted to listen, the Pharaoh squeezed her wide hips and pistoned her with his pitiful member. She barely felt him within her experienced walls, though his voice declared something loudly and his speed increased.
A manly grunt cut through the feminine cacophony and pulled Marcella’s attention. One of the robed men was buried all the way inside his bent over, mewling slave girl and painting her vaginal walls with his seed. Another manly grunt on the opposite side sent a spurt of ejaculate inside another girl. A chain reaction swept through the line and Marcella knew it was only a matter of time before the Pharaoh pumped her bored pussy full of semen.
The old woman gritted her teeth and her eyes glowed. Isla’s long, tangled red hair dislodged from her scalp. It dropped off in clumps and drifted onto the sand. Isla raised a trembling hand to her increasingly bald head as the final remnants of hair fell away and a shiny dome took its place. Her scalp’s shine matched the heavy, golden ring stretching out her nose. She sobbed pitifully as her fallen hair was whisked away by the wind.
Marcella saw the old woman’s attention had moved back onto her. Her wrinkled expression turned to a hateful sneer. Her eyes glowed once again and she nearly collapsed onto the sand with a jet of dark blood erupting from her eyes, ears and nose. Marcella inhaled sharply as the dick plunging inside her started to lengthen and thicken. She could feel each thrust was deeper and stretched her wider and wider. A wave of pleasure surged through Marcella’s body and her natural juices started flowing like a waterfall when the Pharaoh’s increasingly impressive rod pounded her deepest, most sensitive spots. A rhythmic sloshing sound emanated from the coupling of their genitals and Marcella released a loud, feminine moan into the sky. She wasn’t pretending any longer, [i]THIS[/i] was a proper fucking and her audible enjoyment was very real! The noise from the cheering crowd seemed to fade into the background as her attention was completely swallowed up by pleasure. Her legs trembled uncontrollably as the Pharaoh’s member grew even larger and his balls swelled. They slapped between Marcella’s splayed, shaking legs and ached with fertile need.
She babbled incoherently when the arousal became too much and her toes curled into the sand. She felt every vein and fold of his girthy, foot-long cock and her climax couldn’t be controlled any longer. Her body wracked with orgasmic bliss just as the Pharaoh shoved himself all the way inside. Marcella could feel his virile balls contracting and his wad depositing directly against her cervix. Another surge of energy sent a mild sting to her pubic area and heralded the immediate release of an egg from her ovaries, poised for fertilization. The Pharaoh’s super charged testicles overflowed Marcella’s vagina and concentrated cum oozed out of her snatch, right around his still buried dick. He sputtered for a few more seconds before withdrawing his softening length and giving her inflated ass a hearty slap. With his Johnson removed, Marcella couldn’t help but feel empty and desperate to go again. She slowly rocked her hips back and forth as if trying to entice another erection.
With the stopper removed, a torrent of sticky seed dribbled between her legs and onto the sand. She fought to catch her breath and turned her sweat-matted head to each side to see every girl had been nutted in. From the back, there were nine presented pussy’s, nine asses, and nine sets of legs. Each pussy was freshly fucked and dripping with evidence of heterosexual copulation. Marcella was just another creamed pussy, another ass, and another set of legs. She had moaned and relished in every inch of her partner’s cock just like the other women.
The Pharaoh laughed and probed his finger into Marcella’s blown out womanhood. She squirmed and cooed while her swimming head was invaded by the personality traits of an oversexed Egyptian slave girl. Her nearly religious devotion to dick deepened further as images of the Pharaoh’s impressive hog darted through her mind. A lifetime of sexual slavery in ancient Egypt combined with her lifetime of sexual slavery in ancient Rome. They fed off one another and swiftly gobbled up all previous historical experiences and personalities until only Marcella the ancient sex slave remained. Everything else was gone. Her ambition in life had simplified. Now, the only thing she wanted was to be bred by a powerful man again and again and again. Her brain was forever warped. She wasn’t a secretary, a highborn lady, a nurse, a college student or anything in between. Marcella was exactly what she appeared to be in both body and soul.
The newly pregnant Marcella was released from the pillory. She slowly stood upright, allowing her back to adjust. She curled her sweat matted hair behind her ears and crossed her arms beneath her heavy tits. The eight other women had been similarly freed and joined her near the center. Several of them walked with a pained limp from their rough fucking. Marcella scoffed at their inexperienced vaginas. Her cunt had taken the largest cock by a mile and she barely felt sore at all! She saw, just like her, each girl had a nobleman’s seed dripping between her legs. She also knew, like her, they hoped their next period wouldn’t come.
The satisfied noblemen, robes and all, gathered near the Pharaoh. When they were all together, the Pharaoh stepped past the gaggle of freshly fertilized slave girls and towards the bald, pregnant, sunburned creature beneath the lash. A vague sprinkle of familiarity crossed Marcella’s foggy mind as she watched the scene unfolding. Her hands caressed her stomach as if willing it to swell with a child, but she couldn’t help feeling a strange kinship with the woman crawling in the sand. She furrowed her brow and sighed, there was [i]DEFINITELY[/i] something important about this pitiful woman! The Pharaoh approached the woman and procured a wicked, jeweled dagger from his waistband. The woman struggled to her knees and started begging in a language Marcella didn’t recognize. Her pleading eyes found Marcella and widened with recognition. She was clearly familiar with Marcella! Despite that, the woman's sun burned, dejected, terrified face only stirred confusion in the Pharaoh's favorite slave girl. A new wave of fear washed over the woman as Marcella's confused indifference hit her like a gut punch.
The crowd became quiet as the Pharaoh raised the dagger and began to chant.
Breaking the crowds silence was an old woman dressed in strange clothing and bleeding profusely. She was screaming and her eyes were glowing just as the dagger came down towards the defenseless, kneeling woman.
Marcella felt a sting in her chest just as the dagger met flesh, and everything turned to black.
******
