u/Blackfireknight16

The locker rooms stank of sweat and sex as Ashley fitted her plasteel greaves onto her lower legs. After doing a quick test to make sure it wouldn't move, she fitted her trainers on as a couple of the bigger gladiators walked in, chatting happily to each other. They ignored Ashley as she continued to fit her armour on. The armour was brightly coloured and had holes to reduce weight and allow for the body to breathe.

As for the buliker girls, they wore similar armour but less of it because their muscular frames were hard and durable to counter attacks. Ashley, on the other hand, wasn't as muscular as they were, and that was by design. She wasn't born naturally, the same as the other Gladiators. She was vat-born, part of a batch of other gladiators who were created. In her case, she was made for speed like her other batch sisters.

Out of 200, she was the only one to make it this far. Although she could move fast, she didn't hit very hard and couldn't take too much punishment. A trade-off for her speed. She wasn't super-human, but she was faster than normal humans and some of her other kin.

As she finished getting ready, and two of the more muscular women began to make out, she left the lockers and made her way into the dojo. Walking down the corridor, she stopped and spotted a poster. On it was a woman who had been spitted from the ass to her mouth. Fire under her indicated that she was roasting alive. On the right side of the poster was a vat-born gladiator who managed to get out and now had an advertising gig. She wore a sports bra and shorts and held up an energy drink can.

The poster said, 'A girl's duty is to ride the spit! Keep your meat grade-A with Atlas Energy, guaranteed to keep you fit'.

"Not me," Ashley said as she made her way into the dojo.

Gladiators, like her, fought so that they could breed. If they won, they'd be sold off to someone. If they lost, they got cooked. She didn't want that last part.

"I will not end up on the spit," she muttered to herself as she began to use a staff against a wooden dummy.

OOOOO

The arena was set with large red and blue blocks of various shapes and sizes and tubes. It looked half like a paintball area mixed with a skating park. On either end of the field were the team's fans. On one side was MaxCore, a computer technology firm who's softwear and hardware could be found in almost every home. Their fans wore black and green, the same colours as the MaxCore team.

On the other side was the Atlas Corporation. A megacorp that had an industrial specialisation. While they produced softwear, hardwear and food, their main focus was vehicles such as planes, cars and the like. Their fans and team wore white-on-blue colours, giving them a more technologically advanced look.

As the teams cheered, one of the two commentators spoke up. "Hello all, and welcome to the final gladiator match of the season! I'm Jesse, and I hope we have a good match."

On one of the screens that hung over the area, a short-haired femboy smiled. If it wasn't for his very flat chest, one could have mistaken him for a girl. Which was more of a compliment than an insult to someone like him.

"And I'm Jasmine, and I also welcome you all to this fight," the second announcer said. "We're in for a good fight tonight, and I hope your chastity cage doesn't chafe,"

"Oh, it will," the femboy said. "And you know it, and here come the MaxCore team."

From the left side of the commentators, a group of 7 women walked onto a platform next to the arena. Gladiators were divided into body types and weapon skills. The big muscular ones were referred to as brutes. They were the tanks of the team. Able to take punches and give twice as much. But they were slow and didn't have a lot of stamina and endurance.

Next were the Skirmishers. They were in the middle of pack when it came to strength, speed, endurance and stamina. While some could move slightly faster or stronger than the others, they wouldn't be able to go toe to toe with Brutes or the quicker Rangers. What they excelled at was weapon-focused, as they could use a variety of weapons that the other two couldn't with the same effect.

The final one was the Rangers, who were the fastest of the three body types. What they lacked in strength, they made up for in speed and endurance. They were meant to be the fast attackers of the team. Distracting the enemy while the others focused on taking them down.

When it came to the MaxCore team, they had a focus on Brutes. With 3 of the 7-man team being the large, muscle-bound women. Each one is armed with a large weapon. One held a large sword, two were armed with hammers, and the final one wore something akin to boxing gloves.

The other 5 were 2 Skirmishers and 1 Ranger. The Skermishers were armed with swords while the Rangers were armed with a pair of tonfa each. The Brutes got the majority of the cheering while the others just moved and waved lazily.

Companies that had the tech to grow their own gladiatorial teams with their own specialisation. MaxCore's focus on Brutes wasn't just out of a tactical choice, but they also ere also able to specialise in unique brutes. Unlike other companies, their Brutes could react faster than the other teams. Making them stars and a big threat to other teams.

"And just look at them," Jesse called out. "Those Brutes have been dominating the arena as of late, but don't put those Rangers off. They can also pack a big punch."

"That's right," Jasmine said as she joined in. "In the last match, that pair took down Ha-Wan's Brute Kwon-76. Now she's being harvested for parts."

"Yeah, such a shame, she was one of Ha-Wan's best," Jessie said in a wistful tone. "But that's what they get for losing,"

As he spoke, the Atlas team walked onto the platform next to the area. "And here's Atlas!" Jasmine called out. "While not as well endowed as the MaxCore team, they have still been giving a good show this season."

The Atlas team was mostly made up of Skermishers, with them taking up 5 of the 7 team slots, with 1 Brute and 1 Ranger.

"Yep, and while she may not look it, you have to keep an eye out for Ashley-158," Jessie continued. "She may not look like it, but she's one of the best bo staff wealders out there. She took out two skirmishers in the last round, so don't take her lightly."

A ref walked up to a platform with a large terminal in front of them. "I want a clean match," she declared as the teams readied themselves for the attack. "3, 2, 1, fight!" she yelled.

Both teams jumped out onto the arena and moved. Ashley moved off to the side and used her speed to push in front of the rest of the team. Before entering the area, their leader, Addia-34, had set out a plan on how to take out the MaxCore team. Their obvious focus was to take out the Brutes. They would be the biggest problem for them to deal with, and they needed to be dealt with quickly.

The other team had already started moving, with the Brutes advancing. One of the Rangers moved to stop Ashley. The two met at speed, the MaxCore ranger approaching with the tonfa spinning in their hands. With the bo staff having more range than the tonfa, Ashley jumped and spun in mid-air using the range to wack the opposite ranger in the jaw. The MaxCore Ranger spun and fell to the ground, likely with a dislocated or broken jaw. She wouldn't be getting back up.

Someone said something, but she ignored it as she turned to focus on one of the MaxCore Brutes who was taking on her team's Brute. The other three were focused on the Skermishers, allowing Ashley to move and counter the big muscle-bound fighter. But it was topped by one of the MaxCor Skermishers. A green-haired woman with a sword in hand. She moved quickly to block Ahsley's incoming attack.

As the Ranger got close, the Skermisher made her move and jumped in the way of Ashley, and slashed at her. Using her momentum, Ashley moved out of the way of the attack and slammed her bo staff in the back of the Skermisher. She yelled out and stumbled to the floor, rubbing her back.

Turning back to the MaxCore Brute, Ashley ran up and wacked the Brute behind the knee. With a yelp, the Brute fell to her knees, allowing the Atlas Brute to get the upper hand and knock the Brute out. The Atlas Brute, Yolanda, sent a thumbs-up to Ashley. She didn't ignore it and sent the Brute a wave as she focused on her next target.

So far, MaxCore was down 4. Leaving 2 of their brutes and 1 Skermisher left. Atlas, however, had 1 Brute, 1 Ranger and 1 Skermisher left. The MaxCore Brutes did their work well. But they were winded and weren't moving as fast. While they were still faster than a regular human at a similar muscular size, when it came to Gladiators, they were getting slow. Biology had limits, regardless of what you tried to edit.

The two Brutes turned to the Atlas Brute and Skermisher, Ashley turned to the MaxCore Skermisher. She spotted her as the axe-wielding warrior moved to try to dislodge the Atlas Brute. Moving fast, Ashley was about to jump, but the Skermisher saw her and moved to defend herself from the attack. Defecting Ashley's staff.

Recovering quickly, Ash moved to strike at the Skermisher. But this woman was quick on her feet and kept her distance from the bo staff-wielding woman. While this kept her out of range of Ashley, it also meant that she wasn't able to strike back. Looking over to her teammates, Ash saw that her team's Butes was facing one of the MaxCore's brutes while the other was chasing the Atlas Skermisher. Neither was getting an advantage.

This Skermisher was keeping her occupied while the others were stuck until one got the upper hand. Cursing under her breath, Ashley moved into a sweep and pushed herself to the side and struck at the side of the MaxCore brute. That distracted her long enough for the Atlas brute to knock her out, but at the same time, the MaxCore Skermisher took the opportunity to take the Atlas Brute out with a quick blow to the head.

Ash cursed as she realised that she was the only Atlas member left, as the Brute and Skemisher bore down on her. All three of them were panting, out of breath and sweating. As Ashley looked at the two MaxCore gladiators bearing down on her, the image of her roasting on the spit came to mind.

"No me," she growled as she pounced.

The attack came as a surprise as she managed to knock the brute onto her back with two quick strikes. One to the chest to push the air out of her lungs before swinging her staff into the jaw of the Brute, sending her toppling back. The ground shook as the weight of the woman landed.

Panting, Ashey turned to the Skermisher, who was panting as well. The girl had long, raven black hair tied into a braid. Her skin was lightly tanned with Asian features. She stood at 5,11 the same as Ashley. Both were sizing each other up as they recovered some of their energy.

"Good fight, wasn't expecting that," the axe wealder said.

"I'm not going to end up on a spit," Ashley said. "I'm going to breed,"

Both smiled at each other before they pushed forward. Due to her staff, Ashley had reached and managed to push the girl off the platform they were on, sending her sliding into a half pipe. She didn't get up, giving Atlas the win.

OOOOO

The medical bay was quiet as a nurse looked over Ashley's sore leg muscles. She had a couple of bruises where she was hit, without knowing about it. But it was her legs that were the main concern. If she had damaged her leg muscles in any way, she would be disqualified from more games and likely sold to become meat.

The nurse, however, looked up with a smile. "Good news, you've pulled them, but that's fine. You just need a couple of days to recover."

Leaning back, Ashley smiled. "Thank fuck for that," she muttered as the nurse stood, activated her tablet and checked it.

"Oh," the nurse muttered. "You got sold," dread filled the Ranger's face, which she noticed. "Not to a meat factory," that made her relax. "You've been sold to a harem."

"Harem?" Ashley asked, unfamiliar with the term.

"It's when someone has multiple husbands or wives, the latter in this case," the nurse clarified. "So you'll be sharing a man with multiple women,"

Ash nodded and sighed. "I suppose it's the best I could get," she nodded before frowning. "What happened to the MaxCore skermisher? The one with the axe?"

The nurse looked up the woman. "Sakura-67, she's been sold to the same man who bought you," she said in surprise. "It seems that he liked both of you."

That was a surprise. While not uncommon, the losers would be turned into meat. So someone buying a loser was surprising, but not by much.

OOOOO

"It was your fault, you didn't follow the plan!" Rekka-24 said as she and the 5 nude members of the MaxCore team who weren't sold were sent to the kitchens.

Rekka-157 looked at her vat sister with annoyance. "Don't blame me for what you failed to see," she growled back.

The doors to the kitchens opened, and the 5 were led into the sterile room, which was set out like a cooking show. "Would the pair of you shut it!" Dela-29 said. "I'd like to spend my last moments not listening to you two muscle heads bicker!"

The skermisher looked away, annoyed, but the two vat-sisters fell silent. 2 Brutes, 2 skermishers and the single Ranger of the MaxCore gladitorial team waited as the butchers did a check on their health. It took a few moments before they pulled away.

"Ok, the skermisher will get the spit," the lead cook said. "The brutes go for dismembering, and the Ranger gets gutted alive,"

"What?" the two brutes yelled out before one took over. "I thought we were going to get the spit!"

The cook shook her head. "Too heavy for the Jessica and spit," she said as she indicated to a pair of large tables.

With a sigh, the two walked over to it while the skermisher was led over to a jessica and the ranger led over to a gullotine.

The large brutes climbed onto the industrial-strength tables set out for the meat like them. Lying down, they watched as a cook grabbed a long cleaver and walked over to them. With a gulp, Rekka-24 tilted her head back, offering her neck to her executioner.

"Good girl," the soft voice of the cook said before the blade she held severed the brute's head from her body.

The same was done for the other brute before the cook began to remove body parts from the now dead gladiators.

While this was happening, the Ranger was brought up to a frame and attached to it, eagle spread. She tested the restraints, only to find that she was bound very tightly, unable to move. She was then pushed into a side room with a number of cameras. She was set up in the middle of the room and was injected with something. It burned at first, and after a moment, she felt good. Not just good, but her whole body tingled in pleasure.

She moaned and wiggled in her restraints as the cook began to talk. Her mind was filled with pleasure that she didn't hear anything as the cook talked and prepared a knife. After a few moments, the cook turned and slid the knife into the former gladiator, who cried out as she came. She watched as her guts were pulled out, and her life faded from her as she died. The last thing she saw was her still beating heart and a worried cook.

Dela-29 was taken to another side room, also filled with cameras. In the middle was the device that would end her life. A Jessica 3070 automatic spitting machine. Like the other devices, it was set up in a way that the meat would be held flat on their belly, level with their head and mouth. Cuffs and straps were ready to lock her in place until the spit exited her mouth. The only thing different with this model was the stock-like restraints, where her head would be locked in.

Dela gulped as she looked at the inviting device. She walked up to it and stroked the padding. With a deep breath, she climbed onto the Jessica and slowly locked herself in. Ankles first, followed by the thigh straps. After doing a quick test, she leaned forward and activated the stock section, which closed over her wrists and neck. The cook then finished securing the gladiator by pulling the straps around the body and locking the arms in place. She would not be able to move.

Once secured, the cook then picked up a syringe and flicked it a few times before she injected it into the back of Dela. After a burning, she moaned as she felt pleasure tingle through her body. It was so overwhelming that she didn't hear the click, click, click of the spit being loaded, locked and armed into the Jessica. Her mind began to recover as the spit entered her pussy, making her moan out loud.

"Ohhhh yessss...." she moaned as it moved deeper and deeper into her. "I'm going to cook, I'm going to die as meat," she declared.

The spit stopped halfway into her as a blade moved to open her belly up, and her guts fell out. Pain meant pleasure to her, and this just made her cum even harder as the cook removed her guts, excluding her heart and lungs. After being sown up, the spit continued and exited her mouth after a few moments. She came again at the sight before she was unlocked from the Jessica and locked to the spit.

She was then placed over a fire and began to cook.

OOOOO a few months later.

Ashley sat back on a beanbag, watching a cooking show that featured gladiators. She smiled as her fellow concubine, Sakura, moved slightly next to her. Her own pregnant belly is getting in the way. The two looked to one another and kissed as the TV showed a gladiator losing her head.

The oil brush made me twitch as it moved over my nude body. The woman who was brushing me was part of the kitchen staff, meant to prepare my other sister slaves and me for today's meal. I didn't mind, but the others did as they cried out in fear and wiggled their limbless torsos. Trying to pull away from the brush. But given that, like me, they had no limbs, it was impossible to prevent their bodies from being oiled.

The reason I was being turned into a meal for my Sultan? My master? I tried to escape. Because I thought I could be free. But that wasn't meant to be. I, along with my sister slaves, was caught. Now, we are to be cooked and eaten as a warning to the others. Only my head wasn't oiled. My hair was shaved earlier in the day, leaving me bald. After my body was oiled, my head was next. But instead of oil, a wax was brushed over my face to protect my head from being burned or cooked.

It didn't take long for my head to be covered and placed on a cart with the others. They were still crying while I just waited for my cooking. There were 4 of us in all being taken out. While there were 8 of us, the other 4 would be executed in front of the sultan's guests. We were pushed out of the preparation room and down a corridor that led to an outdoor garden where a party was taking place.

Guests of noble birth were laughing and walking while a group of topless slave girls danced before them. A platform had been set with a wooden block on the top. Waiting for its first victim of the day. The wailing from the slaves next to me got the attention of the nobles, who pointed and laughed at our limbless forms.

Princess Jasmine walked over. Her blonde hair shone like gold in the day's sun. She looked down at us, at me in particular, her smile hidden by the veil she wore.

"We may have shared a bed, but you were always meant to be meat," she said in an arrogant tone, which I ignored as 4 slaves walked out in chains, screaming. "Ahh, the show is about to start," she walked away as my fellow slave sisters were pulled up onto the platform, crying.

"Please," one of them said. "Don't do this..." she begged as she fell to her knees.

The princess walked up onto the platform and stared down at the slave before looking to her father, my master, who nodded. Nodding back, she grabbed the slave by the hair and pulled her towards the block. The slave struggled and screamed, but failed to pull away. Jasmine wasn't a typical princess. She practised sword fighting, martial arts, exercised regularly and fought many men who asked for her hand in marriage. In some cases, to the death.

She pushed the slave onto the block and used her bare foot to keep her in place. "Stay there," she said as she readied her sword. "Don't want me to miss,"

The slave wept as the curved blade tapped the back of her neck. The blade rose before coming down and severing the slave's head. Reaching down, the princess picked the head up and brought it up to show the crowd, who cheered. The same happened with the next. But the third stood and walked over to the block. While she cried, she knelt, willing and prayed. Rolling her eyes, the princess moved to push the slave onto the block. Not resisting, the slave did so before her own head was removed.

The final slave looked up at the princess as she walked up. She gulped as the princess offered her foot. The slave licked and kissed it like an obedient pet before she moved on all fours to the block.

"Father, can I keep this one?" Jasmine asked. "She's such a good and loyal pet,"

"Jasmine, you know the rules. Besides, we can find you another one," he said, his voice kind and gentle rather than chastising his daughter.

Jasmine nodded and beheaded the slave. The heads of the slaves sat at the edge of the platform for all to look at and mock. Now it was time to cook.

The cart was wheeled next to a grill set above an open flame. A dark-skinned slave was picked up first and set on the hot metal. A scream ripped through her lungs as she burrned from the metal's touch. Next was the Asian slave, then the blonde westerner, then me. The others screamed as the metal touched their bare, oiled skin. I was no exception to that rule. I screamed in pain as I felt my skin burn and char from the heat and metal.

I couldn't help but wriggle my limbless torso in a vain attempt to get off the grill. I failed, but after a while, I felt the heat become more tolerable. My nerves begin to die and prevent me from feeling pain. I smelled myself cooking, and I couldn't help but feel my mouth water. I had eaten my fellow slaves before. They had either been punished or were selected for the role of meat.

I didn't know how long I was being grilled before I found myself being lifted and placed face down on the grill. I screamed again, my tits burning like hell before I adjusted. I couldn't feel my body after a while, and the pain was practically non-existent. My brain was still alive thanks to the wax, but my body was nearly gone.

I couldn't speak, and I think I stopped breathing. I wasn't sure when that happened, but I felt something was wrong. My head couldn't move; all I could move was my eyes, and they didn't show much outside of the fire below me. After a while, I'm not sure how long, I felt myself being lifted off the grill and taken to a table. My mind was in such a haze that I didn't notice the others were on the table until I was there.

A woman walked up. She wore a dark blue veil and a tight-fitting harem outfit. A gem in her navel glinted in the light. The effect was magnified by her tattoos, and her flat chest was quite pronounced. I knew her. Not personally, but her reputation. The Slave Witch. A woman who was rarely seen outside her tower. I didn't know much about her, but somehow my master tamed her to the point that she wore a slave collar and anklet willingly and performed magic for him. He must have done something to own her like that, but what? I didn't care.

She stood over me and brought down a cleaver on my neck, severing my head from my body. I had expected to die, but my consciousness didn't fade. I could see, but I couldn't hear or move my head. I was picked up and placed on a tray next to the other three as our cooked and charred bodies were gutted and emptied. They were then placed on a cart with our heads and we were wheeled back into the kitchen.

4 platters with pikes in the middle were set up. Our severed arms and legs had already been cooked and set into a kneeling position. Some of our former jewellery had been used, such as my thigh bands and large belled anklets.

Our bodies were taken off while our heads were taken somewhere else. 4 women then began to apply makeup and jewellery to our heads to make us look like we were before. Beautiful slaves, ready to dance for master. Our hair had also been made into wigs and sat on our heads as soon as we were placed in front of the women.

I had lost all sense of time by this point, as it felt like moments for them to prep us and bring us back out. By that point, our bodies had been filled with stuffing and dressed even further with parts of our former dancing gear and jewellery. Our heads were placed on the spikes before we were whelled out into the night for the guests to feast on. I watched as my body was eaten by nobles and slaves. It was somewhat gratifying that this was happening. At least I wouldn't die in vain.

As my consciousness began to fade, I felt myself wishing to become a slave again and end up as a feast for people like this.

As Nadia walked out of the prayer room, the prison guard locked shackles around her wrists and ankles. With that done, she was the lead back to her cell, with a few of the other muslim prisons being brought back as well. She, and a couple of the others, were protesters at the capital, protesting the possibility of the 'Dolcett System'.

With regular livestock practically gone, and no other good food sources avalible, human women were poposed as a new source of food. There were plenty of protests against this, but few were going against it since the logic made sense, and there was little choice. The male-to-female ratio was becoming increasingly skewed in favour of women. As such, they were the logical answer. While some people were clamouring for lab-grown meat, which proved elusive, meat provided only a fraction of a human's daily nutritional needs.

Now, a final decision was to be made, with prisoners being the first to 'volunteer'. Nadia walked into her cell and knelt before the door locked behind her. She wanted to cry, but the tears had long since dried up. She did hear a couple of the others cry, but ignored them as she focused on what she had achieved in her life.

What felt like hours later, she was taken out of her cell and locked to a chain gang of other muslim women as they were led into a courtyard. Prisoners from the other blocks were also lined up in chain gangs. The police women holding shock sticks and others armed with guns that required the fingerprints of a registered user. 1,600 prisoners were gathered with police in riot gear and armed with lethal and less-than-lethal weapons.

The mayor of the city, a dark-skinned woman, walked up on a gangway and looked out at the women assembled. She gave them one glance before she pulled out a letter.

"On this day," she began, stating the date, which few paid attention to. "All offenders' human rights have been removed. From this moment on, you have livestock, not humans, to be cared for. As of this moment, your sentences have been changed. You are to be slaughtered for your meat. There are no appeals. Your lives are forfeit."

And with that, the yelling began. Nadia's head hung as the prisoners were being led out, line by line and onto trucks. Through the yelling, a gunshot echoed, followed by another and another. Despite the chains, the prisoners tried to riot. Nadia didn't see what happened as the truck she was in had its door closed.

As the truck moved, the women, the cargo, the livestock cried and prayed for deliverance. After a while, the truck stopped, and the doors opened. Workers dressed in white later pulled the prisoners out. There was some resistance, but mostly submissive obedience. They were taken into a converted slaughterhouse. This place used to slaughter pigs, but was cleaned out and converted to slaughter human women.

The sounds of screams, pleas and industrial machinery echoed in the building as the prisoners were brought in and lined up. Nadia couldn't see what was happening, but she didn't want to. Getting slaughtered didn't mean she wanted to know what was going to happen.

The line inched forward every minute or so, followed by a short scream. After walking past a wall that hid the slaughter area, Nadia saw how she was going die. The line ended at a barrier, where a group of slaughterhouse workers unlocked a prisoner and brought her over to a guillotine. After her head was removed, she was stripped and locked to a frame by the ankles. Joining other headless corpses. A label on the frame read 'halal'. It was a mild comfort to see that the muslim women were being converted into halal meat.

Hanging her head, Nadia muttered a prayer as the line moved foward until it was her turn. When the workers unlocked her shackles, she didn't resist as she was brought over to the guillotine. Kneeling, she leaned into the lunette and rested her hijab covered neck into the opening. She was about to say something when her world began to spin, and her head fell into a chute that led to a glowing room.

Her consciousness faded as her head was incinerated. Her headless body joined the other corpses on the frame, to be drained as halal meat.

OOOOO

Hanan pushed her trolley cart as she reached the girl meat section of the supermarket. There was plenty to look at. Breasts in different sizes, which made her feel jealous due to her own flat chest. Thigh and belly met and cunt fillets. None of them had names on them, which wasn't that much of a surprise. The first women to be killed under the new dolcett system were prisoners, criminals. None of whom had the right to have their names known.

Moving further down, Hanan found the halal section and picked up a pair of large breasts and a cunt fillet. As she looked at the tits, a random thought came to mind.

"Maybe I should get implants," she muttered, placing them into the cart, uncaring who the breasts she was going to eat belonged to.