as they presented their bouncing meat in constantly shifting angles, making the exercise more interesting and entertaining. As the screaming bitches attempted to escape the bloody carnage by running between the Barbarian warriors, they were picked off by the remarkable marksmen, and brought down in the sand by half a dozen arrow, aimed with the aid of light from the blazing fires. There were still a few quivering bodies still alive when Krull and his men determined there were none left that could do them any harm, and that the moaning bitches would die a slow death before sunrise. The men moved off to a cove at the far end of the beach, and left the dead and the dying slave women to the vultures, the hyenas, and the several other carrion creatures. Tonight the ferocious Barbarian warriors would all sleep like babies, and tomorrow they would fuck like mink, breeding the new women they had selected to be their mares. Life was a cycle, and it was necessary to seed their mares to perpetuate the cycle. When each of the bitches had been bred to all of the men, which would take three days, as his nearly two hundred men had to service all twelve of the new cunts, then they would be off on a new adventure. There were always new villages to plunder, men to slaughter, and women to rape and butcher. The life of a Barbarian was always filled with new escapades, and as long as there was bitch blood to spill, the Barbarians would sooner or later be there to spill it.
The End
