The Barbarian and the Amazons



by Susan Strict and John Savage

Whether it’s beautiful, powerful women and their captive males, or dominating men and their bound female prisoners, this novel has it all. From the co-authors of best-selling “Two for Torture” and “The Temple of Vesta”, Susan Strict and John Savage, this story tells of the capture of a young male by man-hating Amazons (who, of course, need to have a captive male from time to time for breeding purposes). The young man’s father, once a wild barbarian but now a peaceful villager, is determined to rescue his son. Capturing a young Amazon, he hopes to trade her, but the Queen of the Amazons is determined not to give up her new toy. He slowly tames the girl he has captured, but his task remains to find a way to free his son.

Published: 9 / 2010        No. words: 36,100EX1t

Tyr opened his eyes slowly. His head ached. He had no idea where he was or what had happened to him.

He was looking straight up at the inside of a roof structure. Had he been dreaming? No, surely that was not his own house. It seemed somehow distant, and there was something wrong with the shape of it, and…

At once he was aware of someone near him. Instinctively he tried to roll over rapidly and reach for his sword, and it was only then that he realized he could not move. It was another few seconds before it dawned on him that he was tied, spread-eagled, and yet another few seconds before he registered the fact that he was completely naked.

Tyr fought the leather ties that held him, his body bucking and his muscles straining to break free or to pull the wooden stakes from the ground. After ten minutes of putting every shred of strength into the task, he lay still, sweating and gasping with the exertion.

“You will not break free.”

The words startled him. He had already worked out that someone was there, but whoever it might be and whatever they might be doing or intending to do had taken a much lower priority than simply breaking free from his bonds.

What startled him most was that it was a woman’s voice that had spoken.

“Free me, wench,” he commanded.

There was silence, and just as he was about to crane his head round to try to see her, she stepped into view.

Tyr had never seen a woman who looked like this. His mouth actually dropped open in surprise. With regal elegance, she stepped delicately over him, lifting her long skirt just enough to prevent it snagging on him as she raised one foot and brought it down across him. She stood astride his abdomen, calmly looking down into his face.

“Who are you?” Tyr asked, hearing the tremor in his voice as he spoke. “What do you want? Untie me.”

His eyes were fixed on her face, unable to drag his gaze away from her until, with a jolt of surprise, he realized her breasts were bare. She was not young, he could see that, and he was quite certain that she was far, far older than any woman he would have considered even remotely desirable. Yet, he could feel his arousal to her, and the uncomfortable feeling hit him that such an arousal would have been be happening with just as much hunger and urgency even if she were not displaying her magnificent breasts to him.

“What do you want?” he repeated, and now there was no doubt about the trembling in his voice.

There was a strange expression on her face. It was stern, severe, and at the same time it was a smile, not of happiness but of something indefinable that was at once satisfaction, confidence and severity.

She spoke. “I have everything I want.”

Her expression had not changed. Her voice was neutral, conveying power and control in just those few words.

Her eyes fixed his, and he felt as though he was being drawn into brilliant blue, burning pools. Burning? Burning blue. Blue brighter than the brightest cloudless sky, and blue deeper than the calmest Great Water. Greater and lesser than both. He could not explain it, but that was, without any shadow of doubt in his mind, what it was.

She was waiting for him to respond, or to ask, or something, but no words would come.

“I have you,” she said.

“What… what do you want with me?” he whispered.

The expression changed, but it still gave him no clue of the thoughts behind it.

Her lips parted, just a fraction. The very tip of her tongue touched her top lip. “You want me.” It was a statement.

“You’re beautiful.” He meant it.

“You’re a man.” And she meant it as an insult. He had no doubt about it.

She looked behind her, down at his desperate, twitching erection. Slowly, as his eyes grew wider and wider, she began to raise her skirt.

The ankles were perfect. The shape of her lower legs was as Tyr would have imagined a goddess’ leg would have been. Her thighs were firm, smooth, supply, but toned and strong with more than a suggestion of power.

Still she raised her skirt, until it was nearly up to her waist and there was nothing beneath to hide her from his gaze.

It was wrong. In the sudden realization of how wrong it surely was to look on the nakedness of a goddess like this, Tyr closed his eyes and waited for what he was certain she was going to do.

It happened.

She gave a cry, a snarl, and she did it.

She urinated all over him and left the meeting house.


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