I die, speared so completely through the belly that its tip is buried in the arena sand. I die, the arrow that split my breast piercing the lung beneath so I cough blood. I die, clutching at my throat as a wave of crimson stains my flesh while the knife that cut it finds another victim. I die, crushed under a barbarian whose physical might I cannot match.
I bolt upright in my bed, stomach fluttering and nipples hard. I touch my heated flesh, searching for injuries I'm sure I received. The dreams were all so vivid. I fall back, a hand slipping to the apex of my thighs, and a gasp escapes the moment I cup my pussy. So moist. I bite my lip hard enough to taste blood as sparks arc from clit to nipples.
It takes no time for me to recall one of the dreams, to again picture myself as an Amazon at war. I'm with my sisters, called to defend against an invasion from the north. Our foes are monstrous but stupid, never able to learn that they shouldn't venture into our lands. We wear skimpy leathers, mine barely covers my bronzed form, but that's more than they bother with. My gaze traces strong limbs, powerful muscles. Just the sight of them inspires a lust. The order is given and we brace, spears sticking out ahead of us like a hedgehog. Scores of northmen spit themselves, spears noisily break, and then one of them is in front of me, my spear lodged in his stomach. He's alive enough to grab me, fingers close tightly around my neck.
We fall backwards, him on top, and I writhe helplessly, pinned. His cock pushes into my exposed pussy, my moan can't make it past his hands, and he rapes me even as he murders me. I climax, in my imagination and reality, when he does, the hand I'd been lightly clutching my throat with tightening its grip as I picture us dying. I lie in bed for a moment, panting as I recover from my orgasm. Fuck
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