Chapter 1  

 “On behalf of his royal highness and most supreme dominance, true and cowled ruler of Boundaria, his supremacy Baron Stavos humbly enforces his right to entry.”

 

    Lori’s voice wavered up and down as she read the proclamation. Her chest, ensconced in her fine bustier and red silks, protruded. She spoke with her utmost regal voice, and the echo resonated against the stone gate. Birds in the surrounding topiary took flight.

    “Stavos has borne claim to this land, and your refusal to accept an appointed dignitary…” Lori’s voice cracked at the word ‘refusal’ again. The entourage stared at her. She instantly knew she had committed a diplomatic faux pas. Had the Baron been here, her life would be forfeit.

    “Refusal will be seen as insurrection.” Insurrection – rebellion – was an unforgivable crime. These southern barbarians didn’t need to understand the deal in front of them. If the barbarians allowed Lori and her companions in – well, perfect. And if they refused this diplomatic mission, it was a grievous and intolerable offense-  the Baron would take this as an excuse to invade, and they would find their way in regardless.

    The heat of the Southern Jungle bore greatly on the diplomats; they were used to nothing short of a winter, of temperate northern lands… of tight leather and plenty of slaves to help them into it. Lori hoped she could return to Boundraria – and soon. She had left the day after Stavos’s coronation, and was eager to see rebels like Irina hunted down.

    Answers came quickly, and violently. Arrows from the vine-covered stone wall flew through the air, impacting on ground, slicing the topiary, and wedging into Lori’s companions. Two bodyguards collapsed to the ground, the barbarians’ shafts sticking from their arms and stomachs.

    Amazons. Disgusting Amazons.

    The sharp rain pelted the convoy, and most of the mounted warriors scattered. Thick leather armor and shields let the majority flee into the jungle, but Lori, as the official announcer, had no such luck. An arrow buried itself in her scarf, and another grazed her thigh. Her chest heaved and her legs moved at speeds she never thought possible. She felt her entire body lift off the ground as she lunged into the treeline.

    Seconds later, it was over. Several of the warriors and envoy were dead, others wounded – and the rest all fled. Lori stared across the jungle; endless expanses of green and brown stared back. Seconds, minutes, hours; Lori hardly uttered a breath. Sweat dripped from her blonde hair, pooling and running down her face. Moving was a terror; she moved one hand, then the other – carefully, slowly taking off her gloves and wiping her brow.

    Dirty, ambushing Amazons.

    Lori rose to her feet. Regret washed over her; the tingling sensation, the sudden feeling of hair on the back of her neck. An Amazon stood inches from her face. Not just any Amazon; the chieftain the envoy had been sent to negotiate with. “Negotiate.”

    Almost six feet tall and clad in nothing but straps and animal skins, the barbarian queen was a brutal figure of feminine beauty. Thick black hair, dark eyes and years of age had given her body the appearance of an Olympian. Scars lined her chest and stomach, but did little to distract from her epic chest, breasts heaving in a furious rage. She huffed and puffed, gentle hands clenched.

    “I accept your invitation. We will open diplomatic ties with Boundaria’s nobility.”

    What?

    Lori’s face relaxed; lips moved into a board, knowing smile, and her wide eyes resumed a neutral, glamorous look.

    “Of course. I’m happy to entreat with the Amazons of the south.”

    The amazon queen shook her head.

    “You do not understand. I do not see any dignitary here.”

    Lori’s jaw dropped. “I am-“

    The Amazon grabbed Lori in two hands – one on her head, another her hair.

    “I see only a fresh pony; a new slave for the stables.”

***

 

 

    “Say it.”

    The gloved hand was all that she could feel. That, and the unyielding stimulation, the pain she was subjected to – but mostly that hand. The glove was thick, it smelt of oiled leather. The pungent odor wafted into her nostrils, and deep inside she groaned. The lustrous feel of the leather on her cheeks was intoxicating.

    She moaned again, and wriggled. It seemed that her whole body, from her neck down, was ablaze; those constant crops, the whipping, and the thorough groping had taken their toll. A few bruises and dozens of lash marks had made her skin soft – and warm to the touch.

    “Say. It.”

    The hand pinched again. She couldn’t see it – not through the heavy blindfold over her eyes. But she could feel it. The gloved hand, with its thumb on her chin and fingers on jaw; it forced her into one direction. It was dominant, masculine – and a little scary.

    “She’s worthless. Get rid of her.”

    “N-no!” She blurted out. “…do it to me again, Master!”

    She said it, and she instantly regretted it.

    Baron Stavos laughed aloud; the sort of cruel, haughty laugh that echoed throughout the dungeon. It was short – just a few seconds – but made her feel a tingling in her spine.

    “She’s ready. Finally… hours of whipping, days of interrogation; this little leatherslut took even less time than the other Resistance fighters. They’re getting weaker.”

    Stavos was an imposing man; young, but incredibly tall. His physique was muscled and buff, rippling below his suit; he appreciated the black leather. It always made him look slimmer than normal, which kept opponents guessing – and unawares.

    The Baron flipped the cape over his shoulder, moving his other hand through his black and white-tufted hair. “Get this mewling wretch of a woman out of my sight.” He pointed to the blindfolded woman strapped to the table.

    “Another member of Princess Irina’s resistance forces, converted to your side, Master,” Livia said dully.

    “Yes,” Stavos said wryly. He upturned his nose. “I sent the ones that we couldn’t convert to the public square – to make an example. But most of them… “ he motioned to the writhing form of the prisoner. “Most of these women are weak-willed. Pathetic, mewling kittens who just need a strong hand. I am that strong hand; the one Boundaria needs.”

    “And besides, agent Livia, as you well know – the most loyal assets are the ones that join you willingly. And unlike you, I didn’t even need a sorceress…” Stavos said with practical contempt for Livia.

    Livia stared and bowed. “Of course, Master. I was a great conquest of yours. The greatest.”

    Stavos grinned again. He ran one finger over the pretty face of his latest servant, moving the finger down to her nipple. He tweaked it harshly, eliciting a pained moan.

    “Come, Livia. The guards will get her dressed.”

    ---

    The most beautiful sound in the world was a pile of coins jingling in a sack. The second most beautiful sound was the sound of a purse falling on a table – signifying a deal.

    And so, when that purse fell on the table – Onyx lifted his head. He wore a green hood, and a black mask; a leather hood that let only his eyes visible. It was his own choice, of course; it made him look all the more intimidating.

    The woman in front of him was just as intimidating. She, too, was clothed in all black; careful to conceal her identity. Smart move.

    The tavern was empty – even the bartender had left. Onix owned the tavern, and when someone came by for business, the message was clear: leave or die. No witnesses were allowed in this tavern.

    “Onix. I wish to request your services.”

    The assassin looked up. His face was obscured, but his eyes told a tale of a sly old assassin – a leader of many other like-minded agents. He stared deep into the hooded figure.

    “Kyria. Lady Kyria.” Onix didn’t need to see the woman to know her voice – nor to know what she wanted.

    “Onix. You are a mercenary. A sellsword. Scum.”

    Onix retorted, “I consider myself a professional first and foremost.”

    Kylia removed her hood. If this sell-sword knew her identity, it was no use. “The gold on your table is your advance payment. The first half of a job.”

    Onix never broke eye contact, pocketing the gold quietly.

 

    “And the job, Ms. Kylia? The job that’s so important that you come to me, not your Master, and approach me in the dead of night?”

    Kylia grinned. “Six thousand pieces of gold.”

    “Lady Kylia, you still haven’t told me the target.”

    Kylia grinned. “Eliminate Prince Stavos.”

     

     

     

     

     

    The internal quarters of the War Room in Boundaria Castle were a sight to behold. Many peasants had seen the interior over the years… though most of them had been thoroughly broken house-slaves or servants belonging to the Duchess von Dominax. Stavos had a different approach.

 

    This war room was different. The Prince played up every inch of the ‘conquering hero’ angle. His imagery, paintings and scrolls, adorned the walls; black-and-red banners hung proudly on the wall, his noble family crest taking up a sizeable portion of the room. Boundaria was run by Prince Stavos. It would be impossible to forget.

 

    The prince himself sat at the center of the table. One leg was crossed over the other, and he slouched deeply into his padded seat. It towered over the others; the Prince listlessly rested his head in one hand, while daintily pirouetting a dagger through the air with his other. On occasion, the amidst the mumbling chatter of the small council and the oiled squeak of the Prince’s pristine leathers, a moan could be heard. It was the sound of submission.

 

    Below the table, two women were hard at work displaying their fealty to Stavos. Few could see them, but all knew they were there. More members of the Resistance, clad in scandalous outfits that seemed to be straps alone ,moved their tongues up and down the shiny-clean surface; the boots of the new Prince of Pain, the Lord of Lashes, his unquestioned highness Prince Stavos.

 

    Both girls jumped with a fright, their lurid displays of submission driven to panic as a dagger pierced the table above them, slicing through wood mere inches from their faces.

    Stavos had planted the dagger on the map, his fingers circling the area of his derision.

    “Boundaria’s ports are safe, for now. Pirates and foreign agents have drawn down their attacks in recent months.” A half-grin crossed his face. “They fear the reprisal of a new ruler.”

    The room nodded in assent. Men, all men, dressed in fine silks and snug leather armor, now made up the council. The last of the dissenting female councilors were waiting for Stavos’s personal interrogation – snugly bound in the dungeon.

    “The northern barbarians will be a threat, as they always have been.”

 

    A husky, alluring voice broke the submissive silence. “If the traitorous princess Irina has taken refuge with them, then the northern barbarians will have a leader – and casus beli against us. All they need is a leader, and they will be a plague our lands have not seen for decades.”

    The leader’s fingers flicked with contempt before returning to his side. He lounged deeper into his chair. “Yes. Ms. Barlow, my gracious lieutenant… why, I was just about to mention the northern barbarians!”  He grinned. “Thank you for interrupting me.”

    Livia bowed as earnestly as she could.

    “While I understand their threat, I wanted to discuss the…” his lip curled. “The Amazons.”

    Livia nodded again. She bowed even deeper, and slunk out of the room.

    “The Southern Amazons are a detestable people. Their barbaric women dress scantily, their disgusting, toned forms basking in the sun. They outnumber their burly, barbaric men – men who also have no respect for the rules or laws of war, trade, or diplomacy.”

    Livia Barlow, Stavos’s greatest enemy turned his unending slave, stared at him. The obedient councilors waited with bated breath.

    “These barbarians have attacked defenseless caravan that happened to arrive and insult them.” His curled lip turned to a cruel grin. “We will have our vengeance. Boundaria’s loss, however slight, will be avenged. My loss will be avenged.” The room burst into applause. Clapping for Prince Stavos’s brief speech thundered out through the walls of the War Room, through Castle Boundaria, rattling even the chains of the prisoners, snugly bound to beds in dungeons deep below. The cold stone walls were warm with cries for vengeance.

           The humid south felt a world apart from the central reaches of Boundaria, but it was not so distant a cousin. Travel times were between a week and a month, depending on the south's highly variable weather; but the landmass was not so terribly different from the so-called 'civilized' reaches of the north. The "barbarians" were people as well; they bore children, they fought, they feasted.

 

           In these jungles, though, men and women had different standards. Less clothing, more huts, and a very practical respect for the elders of any village made these tribes seem absolutely, completely abhorrent to "civilized" sensibilities; especially those of Diplomat-Appoint Lori.

           "Ho! Sisters! Has anyone a carrot? Our animal seems to need some motivation... or the stick!" The Amazons viciously mocked Lori, her defenseless and deprived form shuddering in the heat. A light wind through the jungle chilled her, made her long so desperately for home's cool snows and harsh terrain.

           Since her imprisonment a week ago, Lori's uniform had changed substantially. No longer did she wear the furs or capes of Boundarian nobility; the only 'clothing' permitted to her was a pathetic assortment of leather straps. Thick, dark cured leather surrounded and enclosed her generous chest, forming the skeleton of clothing but without any covering. The straps bit into her flesh, and ensconced her so thoroughly that she could never forget her bindings. Her arms had been imprisoned for the first few  days, but now were given some modicum of freedom; thick, leather mitts left her utterly helpless. Fingers and thumb alike were compressed into useless paws, unable to grasp a sword much less pick a lock. She was utterly helpless; two more straps kept her wrists close to her shoulders, with her 'paws' hanging about like an animal.

           An animal. That was how they treated her. Her boots had been looted when she was first captured by the Amazons. They were thick, thigh-high leather boots, intense black leather that had made Lori wet with anticipation in the past. She took such pride in their heels, the clean, oiled surface that she had so often longed to lick, the tight curves of her legs highlighted by a symbol of dominance...

           These foolish tribals had the gall to give her new boots. These boots forced her to her toes and balls of her feet, he heels in the air. She walked around, an animal, a pathetic woman that had been truly enslaved. The best of burden's body was vulnerable, groin and thighs only protected by more leather straps.

           She felt her vulnerability most thoroughly when the Amazons touched her. They called her names; pony, slave, slut, toy... 'toy' made her shudder the most. 'Toy' implied that after all this work, there would be "playtime."

           "Thinking hard, beast?" Someone had grabbed onto her rear end; a strong, gloved Amazon palm caressing her captured cheek. She yelped and a high-pitched mewl escaped her lungs.

           "No. Don't turn around, Beast. I don't think you're ready."

           Lori swallowed, chewing on the bit-gag pressed between her lips.

           "Are you really ready to gaze upon your Queen, terrible and great?"

           Lori's head turned, gently. The fat gag made her drool, and she knew she looked pathetic as her collared neck strained...

           The hand released her butt. Lori turned.

           The Amazon Queen. Terrible, beautiful, and smelling strongly of jasmine oils, the Queen's visage pierced Lori's heart. Deadly green eyes, dark skin and hair cascaded over her form. Her hair, smooth and long as the finest silk velours, poured over her shoulders and grazed against her chest. The Amazon's breasts were generous, and her well-endowed form made Lori shudder. Her breaths moved her tits up and down in a hypnotic fashion. A slender, visibily muscled waist created a tight, hourglass figure; a metallic belt protected her abdomen and drew the eye to a loosely-clothed waist. Lori realized she was drooling at this veritable goddess, but she didn't care. A purple skirt enclosed the Queen's waist and legs, while a thin top kept her breasts in check; Lori's imagination instantly ran wild.

           The Queen moved her fingers over Lori's face. She rubber her knuckles against the Boundarian's soft, milky cheek. The Amazon dominant moved her fingers over Lori's warm, open lips. Lori moaned again, and she felt intense physical relief as her captors unbuckled the padded gag.

           "I've ungagged you, beast," the queen said. Her lips hardly moved. "But not out of mercy. I have ungagged you to let you prove your fealty." The Queen grabbed Lori's hair, tugging on it, controlling her.

           Lori felt herself forced to her knees, leather straining under her pose. The Queen shoved her fingers in front of her. The diplomat's mouth opened, and the Queen laughed haughtily as Lori's lips gently suckled the Amazon Queen's fingers. Submission was most sublime.

     

     

     

Chapter 2

     Whips cracked. Hooves marched. Men yelled. Women moaned. Whips cracked harder.

 

    Prince Stavos's cape flowed in the wind. His leather bodysuit was form-fitting, and his short-cropped hair blew. The wind in his face was cool and refreshing. Whipping was hard work.

     

    The Prince enjoyed the feeling of wind in his face; sometimes he wore an imposing mask, helmet, or battle-hood, but this time – he enjoyed it. Besides, it let him hear the flapping of his cape in the wind; he had the glorious imagery of Adonis and the fanatical devotion of his followers. He felt like a god among men, and he had elected a vehicle as such.

 

    He had chosen a chariot for his departure. Horses, not women, but actual horses were his mount of choice.

 

    The horses neighed and he switched whips. "Lado! Lado, my dear aid-de-camp, hand me the crop."

 

    "Of course, sir." Lado wore a form-fitting leather outfit, much like Stavos. It was black leather, oiled and shined and created to exact specifications. It complemented his toned muscles nicely, allowing his biceps and calves alike mobility as well as a degree of fashion. Thick seams, thigh-high leather boots, and a cape much like Stavos’s (though nowhere near as grand or infamous!) adorned his extremities… as did a spiked collar, a symbol of his dedication to the Prince of Pain. Long, strawberry blonde hair poured over his shoulders, and he spoke to Stavos with a lilting, sing-song tone.

 

    Stavos grinned, and moved his face against the crop. It was fine and well-made, sturdy leather with a strong paddle. It was designed to motivate and punish.

 

    "Thank you, Lado."

 

    "Have you ever fought an Amazon before, Lado?"

 

    "Yes, sir. They've raided us in the past. But as long as we have a man as yourself at the helm, we’re undefeatable."

 

    "How do they fight, good Lado?"

 

    "They fight like cowardly women, Prince Stavos."

 

    "How many is worth one man?"

 

    "They're worth nothing, my Prince."

 

    "Good to hear. Then in that case, we have no limit on prisoners."

 

    Lado laughed hartily, and Stavos joined in. "Cover the rear, old friend; make certain that nobody ambushes us. I'd hate to be spent and tired before the real fun begins." Lado licked his lips and stroked two fingers through his hair. To work alongside an Adonis like Stavos was a pleasure, and an honor… if not always the safest career

 

    ***

 

    The Queen stared at the convoy. Twelve carriages, two chariots, six more covered wagons... it was a ripe prize. The roads were unsafe. Surely the stupid Boundarians would have traveled with a guard?

 

    "Mmphh... mmmppph!"

 

    "Hush, hush, Lori, my pony, you're going to stress yourself out."

 

    The Queen had two people with her. They juxtaposed, and couldn't have been more different. On her left stood Aurelia, proud, buxom, and angry; jet-black hair blended with her dark war-paint and eyeliner. Two large, polished obsidian earrings hung on her ears; and, as always, she was dressed in the traditionally skimpy Amazon attire. Knee-high sandals, skins and furs so short as to show off her tight cloth underwear, and a leather bustier that pushed up her bust in a tantilizing fashion; it cupped and hugged her chest, with two triangular leather pieces just barely covering her teats. By Boundarian standards, she was immodest; by Amazon standards, she was a prude.

 

    "Queen-Sister," Aurleia said, "Why are we not striking?"

 

    The Queen stirred. "They must know they are within our territory. I do not want to throw lives away."

 

    "But - Stavos is there, exposed! We could kill him now - slice off his head, take his men back as concubines and breeding-mates... and sell the ugly ones back to Boundaria. Why would we wait?"

 

    The Queen placed a finger over her sister's mouth.

 

    "I do not allow such insolence. We do not attack, not yet. We wait until they make camp. Besides, Aurelia, we have other things to tend to..."

 

    The other figure stood next to the two Amazons, quivering in his boots. He was stripped down to his codpiece; Lado, captured without notice and now stricly bound without mercy, could only moan into his sticky gag as the convy - and his only hope of rescue - passed away.

    ****

 

    The Amazon tribe had a dungeon. It lacked the banners or greatness of the Boundarian dungeons - they were legendary. In contrast, the Amazon dungeons were simple. A cellar dug into the ground went on for some distance, lit by braziers, torches, and holes to the ceiling. 

 

    Deep in these recesses, screams and echoes of tormented prisoners never echoed, their please of mercy quashed by the soil.

 

    It was here that the Amazon Queen ventured. Only two prisoners were here; Lori, Prince Stavos's handmaiden, and Lado, Stavos’s aide-de-camp- her latest capture. Lori was mobile, but Lado was strapped down to a stone slab. His arms and legs were stretched into an 'X'.

 

    "All men are the same, Queen."

 

    Lori was ungagged, but not free. The henchwoman's arms were still strict behind her back in an armbinder. It was painful, yet alluring; a rushing admixture of soreness and sensuality that left her choices to talking. The armbinder was a leather sheath, sewn with strong hemp fabrics. Her fingers and arms fit into it like a glove, and the Amazons then layered multiple straps over it, making certain to lock it in place. She had tried to slip it off, but every time, her arms remained firm; she just couldn't get enough slack. It pointed her hands down; they were together, as if in prayer, and it pointed directly downards.

 

    It was particularly strict, as well;  not only did it bind her arms, but it bound her body. It forced her chest out into the air, leaving her bare, exposed breasts free to be used or abused by any who desired her flesh. Straps connected to her collar, choking her slightly - and keeping her from turning her head.

 

    "All men - they all are stubborn, Queen. They do not bend, they only break. If you push them too hard, they clam up."

 

    "Thank you, Lori." The Queen closed her eyes. Acrobatically, she raised one leg up to the slab - and lowered her sandal onto the captured Boundarian man's cock.

 

    He yelped.

 

    "Man. Ignorant man."

 

    "Gwah!"

 

    "Don't take that tone with me," she mocked. "Talk. Talk, like you northern Boundarians are so fond of doing."

 

    "Wh-what do you want from me?"

 

    The queen increased the pressure. "I want you to tell me about Stavos, you ignorant little slut." He groaned. Her foot was a strong pressure, yet somehow alluring; it was dominant and intense. The women in Boundaria were never so... forceful!

 

    "Where are they!?"

 

    "Th-they're making camp in the Basin!"

 

    "How many guards?!"

 

    "T-twelve guards, ma'am!"

 

    "Who owns you?"

 

    "Prince Stavos owns me, Queen!"

 

    The Amazon Queen tired of him. She grabbed , both hands tweaking his nipples. "Wrong answer, wretch!"

 

    "Nn-ggggaahhh!" He screamed in agony and ecstasy. "I... I - forgive me!"

 

    "No, it's okay, slut. I forgive you. Who forgives you?"

 

    The Lieutenant stared. "...you forgave me, my Queen."

 

    "Good.... Lori, come with me. I trust you more than I'd ever trust any ignorant male. Lori - follow me. We are going to have a surprise for "Prince" Stavos!"

 

    ***

 

    Stavos and his entourage had been walking for three days. The southern lands had twisted and morphed. No longer were the cold snows of the north visible. The moisture had turned from snow, ice, and dry winds to bone-grinding heat. Crags and long, forlorn barrows gave way to pleasant fields, fallow and ready for grazing. After that, they turned verdant, the grass replaced with leafy green ferns. As they went deeper south, even that gave way to tall trees, open paths, and the occasional stone structure. Temples, ruins and huts.

 

    Disgusting. Stavos had shed his leather for a simpler tunic, and left his chest entirely bare. So the better; he could impress any woman with his physique, and he could out-boast any man!

 

    On the third afternoon, we was lounging in he carriage. A former member of Princess Irina's resistance was his partner in the carriage; she was totally naked, and her once-pure body was blemished from whippings and scarred from her torment. Her mind, as well, was scarred; she expressed her thoughts through actions now.

 

    Guessing by her actions, she was in a submissive mood; Stavos rubbed her head against his tunic, reveling in her submission and her warm body. Her face rubbed his, against his thighs and groin. The prince grinned malevolently until the carriage came to an abrupt start, shattering the tender moment.

 

    "Stay here, slave."

 

    He exited the carriage and marched forward.

 

    "Where is my aide?! Why have we stopped?! If you want any Amazon slaves, you'll get this convoy started this instant!"

 

    His expression twisted from consternation, then contorted to fury, and then to suprise. Stavos's eyes went wide and his mouth dropped slightly.

 

    Twelve women stood in his path. Not Amazons, but Boundarians! Milky-white skin, all of them. All of them 'stood' in his path - but they were, in fact, kneeling. Each of them was kneeling, and they formed a perfect row; they blocked the road, shoulder-to-sholder slaves.

 

    The slaves all wore collars, as well, and each collar was connected with a heavy, inches-thick chain. They all bowed forward. Each of them was on their knees, and wearing fitted armbinders that kept their arms pointed down towards their sex. It seemed that they were completely unable to rise, as well; thick, hempen rope connected the armbinder to each of their ankles. It was tight, compressive bondage, and it maximized their submission. Stavos noted how inescapable it looked; they couldn't move their arms, and they couldn't move their legs, either. Every one of them had a bit-gag, so they couldn't coordinate an escape, either. It was very clever.

 

    Stavos marched forward, bare chest poking in the wind. He was a glorious adonis, exemplary in his cruelty. With one firm hand, he snagged the hair of one of the slaves, pulling it tightly.

 

    "Slave, who did this to you?"

 

    The slave moaned until Stavos removed her bit-gag.

 

    "I..."

 

    "Who left you here?"

 

    The slave grinned. It was a malevolent smile. Stavos had worn such smiles many times before.

 

    "Lady Kyria."

 

    Arrows ripped through the air. One hit a bodyguard. Another whizzed into a horse, sending the carriage flying. Equipment flew into the air, swords clattered in their scabbards. Barrels shattered as the horses ran. It was pandemonium, and the spooked horses all bolted at once. The chaos collapsed into anarchy. Stavos hit the dirt, and the slaves leaned forward.

 

    A bolt flew inches from Stavos's face, planting itself in the spine of a cowardly bodyguard that fled. Another hit the bodyguard in the leg as he gurgled a death rattle, and he collapsed to the ground. Two, then three more of his slave girls ran, with stray bolts nearly hitting some and impacting on others.

 

    'My prince!' one of the entourage grabbed Stavos by the arm , pulling him away from the fight. His cape flapped in the air; its long billows flapped in the warrior’s face. Gentle fur brushed over his face and its gossamer sheen rubbed against the warrior’s body.

 

    "You fool, you'll sully the cape!" Stavos lunged at his 'rescuer,' striking him in the nose and sending him to the muddy jungle floor. "Insolent wretches! You! All troops! Fall into defensive formation! Surround the caravans!"

 

    Stavos's beady eyes searched the forest line. Birds. Animals. Ferns. Trees, wood, oak, fruit, Amazons - there, Amazons!

 

    "There! Right flank! Everyone, shift!"

 

    There were six bodyguards left, and all of them dismounted their horses and the caravans. All six took defensive positions, covering behind the wood and the corpse of a horse waylaid by a stray arrow. Stavos went for his sword and raised it to the air.

 

    "There! Focus fire on the trees!"

 

    The six immediately let loose a hail of bolts, shattering trees and sending yelps of pain itno the air. "Bitches! Run! Get back to your whore mothers!" The entourage's vulgarities were salt int the fresh wounds of their crossbows.

 

    Stavos drew his sword from its scabbard. A long, curved blade; a glamorous one with a ridge for blood. Designed for slicing and killing, not show like previous Boundarian rulers. He held it aloft, pointed towards the heavens and the routing bodyguards regrouped. Then, a tidal wave, he leaned it forwards.

 

    "Everyone else - charge the trees! Enslave them! Murder them!"

 

    The sounds of carnage softly serenaded Stavos's ears. He took cover behind a wagon. The slaves that had distracted him were gone. What thad they said? Did they mention Kyria's name?

 

    It was the perfect ploy; the Amazons had no defense against cold Boundarian steel!

 

    And likewise, Stavos had no defense against a foe he couldn't see. Despite his flowing cape, one which held a delightful, gorgeous black ebony shadow and all its prominence, he had no power.

 

    A sharp blow on the back of his neck  sent Stavos to the ground. Another made stars spin, and he wretched on his hands and knees. His cape was dirtied.

 

    He only had the chance to turn his head for a brief second. He yelped to his troops to retreat, but by then a gag was already in his mouth, and Stavos was being carried off into the jungle. He slipped into a hazy unconsciousness just as his troops began to cheer victory.

 

     

    ***

     

Chapter 3

     The captured members of the Boundarian entourage – Lori, Lado, and Stavos – were assembled at the edge of a cliff. A wide expanse of southern jungle stretched out for miles, visible until the edge of the horizon where it met  with rolling plains and fields.

    The cliff itself was bare, stone and granite and other rocks that had seen countless kings and queens. Now, it was to see the fall of Stavos. The cliff’ edge held numerous crags and dangerous cracks; some ledges and ridges allowed movement, but only a fool would willingly traverse such lethal heights.

     

    The cliff was not nearly as interesting as the strange pool – like a mountain spring – that lay about 15 feet from the cliff’s edge. It was  black, jet-black in fact. Not white or clear or crisp, but inky black and opaque. It was as thick solution, bubbling on occasion but otherwise perfectly slick.

    Stavos, Lori, and Lado all quivered in place; Stavos unrelentingly defiant, but the other two forced to their knees and prostrate. A dozen Amazon men and women stood guard, including the Amazon Queen.

     

    “Stavos! “Prince” Stavos, you have come to be judged by the Amazons. Your unending hatred of our people and constant refusal to admit to feminine dominance is at an end. Will you repent?”

     

    “Repent?”

     

    “Yes, Stavos. Give in…” She moved closer to him. “Lick my boots , and all is forgiven. You three will be released, to return to your pathetic kingdom as –“

     

    Stavos interrupted. “I would die long before I touch your filthy feet. You, and all your ilk, disgust me. I don’t care what your offer s.” He spit at her sandal.

     

    “Very well, Stavos. But it is not you who will pay the price.”

     

    Two burly amazons grabbed the long, luxurious blonde hair of Lado. He yelped. “Sir! Lord! Stavos, please! Do something!”

     

    The Prince furrowed his brow, eyes to the ground. “To submit is to give in. I will never, ever give into some fool just because she has breasts. Do what you will to us, Amazon whore, you’ll never have my submission.”

     

    Lori’s face fell, and she bit her lip.

     

    “Very well, Stavos. I would say I respected you, but that would be like respecting a dog. They just don’t have the mental capacity to respond.” She punctuated her remarks with thick jabs of her sandal into his back before a kick to his side. Air rushed out of his lungs and he moaned.

     

    “Very well. For you three, this is the end of the line. Your execution is not some easy fate, like being thrown off the cliff. No, this is the Pool of the Ancients.”

    She gesticulated wildly, ceremonially speaking not just to the three condenmned but to the enthusiastic Amazons as well.

     

    “The Pool of the Ancients is a spring and a gift from the first times. Any who touch it are made one with nature. They do not die, they do not sleep; they do not thirst or hunger. They become, in a way, immortal as the stones that it sits in.”

     

    She knelt. “But it comes with a cost. Immortality is exhausting work. Any who are dipped in its waters are coated, covered in a thick sheath of living liquid; the black essence of the pool filling and teasing them, filling them with life and energy until someone releases them. It is a divine experience…”

     

    The Amazon Queen grabbed Lado by the hair. “But of course, you’ll never escape. You’ll be enclosed for the rest of your days as our rubber-coated idols… maybe we’ll set you up in a temple, or leave you in the village for all to tease. It doesn’t matter.”

     

    It took three Amazons to subdue Lado. Stavos knelt his head, avoiding eye contact, while Lori worriedly stared. He was stripped naked, his snug leather armor tossed aside and his cape casually thrown to the ground. The Amazon Queen donned the cape, laughing maniacally all the while.

    Lado never stopped struggling. Even after his nude form was exposed, his body open to the elements, he kept a modicum of dignity. Even as the three Amazons dragged him towards the pit, he kept a certain amount of struggling class. Lori moaned, Stavos frowned.

    The dipping process was agonizingly slow, taking half an hour. First, they forced his legs in, coating him up to his belly in the inky ichor. They did so again, and a second, and a third time, removing him to dry. His cock, exposed to the world, was forced erect against his stomach during this third and fourth dippings, freezing it in place.

    After twenty minutes, the Amazon lackeys finished the job. Tying his hands behind is back, they dunked him in all the way – up to his blonde hair, past his mouth and nose and pleading eyes. He was held thrashing beneath the ink’s surface for a half-minute until he was finally released.

    Still breathing, but totally coated – he wasn’t a man, and he didn’t remotely recognize Stavos’s aide-de-camp. He had been transformed – completely coated in this magical prison.

     

    The Queen grabbed Lori by the hair.

     

    “You know, Stavos… I never met with who set that trap for you.”

     

    “It wasn’t you?”

     

    “No… I’m afraid to say it wasn’t.  Some Northern idiot; one of you Boundarians, I think. She sent a whole gaggle of slaves down here, knowing that you would never pass up the chance for booty and plunder.”

     

    “Who was it? Tell me this.”

     

    “I never met… some lady. Some lady hired that assassin Onyx to make sure they were delivered. A decent trap, wasn’t it?”

     

    A crossbow bolt whizzed through the air, grazing and slicing hair from the Queen’s face.

     

    “Too clever by half.”

     

    Aurelia emerged from the jungle – flanked on both sides by a dozen Boundarians. The convoy had arrive. The odds were even.

     

    “Sister! You betray me – for these misogynist monsters?”

     

    Aurelia stepped forward, sword in hand.

     

    “No. I betray you for… me.”

     

    In that instant, the melee began. Boundarian soldiers instantly clashed with the Amazon tribals. Both sides, with comparable equipment, were standoffish, with the male soldiers of the north carefully moving in pairs. Eventually, the blows began; two Amazons encircled one Boundarian crossbowman who hadn’t managed to find a partner, and ambushed him. In an instant, they sent blow after blow from their sword. The first two were deflected easily by his own saber, but the third sliced deep, piercing his leather armor and into his arm. He yelped in pain, and the rest of the soldiers moved in.

    Two more Boundarians went for the jugular and abandoned pretenses of skirmish. Both men with long, black hair, one threw a net over a pair of Amazon warriors while the other instantly closed it shut. Within seconds, two warriors were incapacitated, furiously stabbing at the air until their swords were removed.

    The Amazons bore no quarter, though. Whereas the Boundarians sought captives, slaves, and plunder, their enemies had no such distractions. Just as the two soldiers managed their capture, an Amazon wielding an obsidian-shafted spear sliced deep into the unarmored legs of a soldier, piercing through his knee and into his other leg. He yelped in pain before dropping to the ground, moaning and thrashing while the battle raged.

    The Amazon Queen seemed to have disappeared, and Stavos was unable to move-  arms still bound. He stared deeply at the living, yet encased form of Lado – helpless as he was.

     

    “My Prince,” said someone, “Why aren’t you rallying?”

     

    Stavos felt his bonds cut. A malevolent grin crossed his face.

     

    “Aurelia?”

     

    “The very same. At your service.”

     

    The Prince said nothing as he grasped a sword. “The Queen’s fate had been sealed the moment she caught us. There was no way we could let her live.”

     

    “Rightly so,” gasped Aurelia as she dodged a thrown javelin.

     

    “There! There! On the cliff!” Lori flailed as Stavos raced away, leaving his soldiers to perform the dirtiest of all dirty work and Aurelia in a huff.

     

    The Queen was indeed escaping. Both her hands were now in use as she clambered down hidden stairwells and concealed vine-paths onto jagged paths. The cliff face was an ill place to be caught, and Stavos quickly pursued.

     

    He felt his fingers, tight against the rock wall, his body protected only by his loincloth and cape.

     

    “Queen,” Stavos said through gritted teeth, “We can resolve this with words. We Boundarians are men of honor.”

     

    The Amazon jumped from the cliff face to a stone platform below. “Honor? You and I have different definitions.”

     

    Stavos joined her. The platform was carved into the sheer rock, wide and long, with stairs winding down from this ceremonial space to the jungle below.

     

    “You are too correct,” he thrusted, sword in hand, “For our honor is reserved for those who deserve it.”

     

    The Queen didn’t bother to respond. She parried with her own sword – with a far more forceful blow than Stavos anticipated! The Boundarian noble gasped as the sword vibrated in his hands, and he stared at his tremulous fingers.

     

    He dropped to a knee as the second blow came, a horizontal slash that embedded the sword in the rock wall. The Queen slowly backed away, moving carefully down the stairs.

     

    Her sandals clacked, echoing as the sounds mixed with the battle above. A Boundarian soldier tumbled past them off the cliff, followed by a crudely-dressed Amazon.

     

    Stavos grabbed at the air, trying to grasp the Queen’s cape. He used his own sword like a pair of tongs, attempting to pin her cape against the wall. She ducked, the wind picking up and knocking the both of them off-balance.

     

    It was the Queen’s move, and she sortied forward up the steps. Two quick thrusts – one of which impacted on Stavos’s arm, cutting his shoulder – and another against his stomach, barely nicking him.

     

    Stavos feigned an expression of tremendous pain, and the Amazon Queen pressed the attack – just long enough for Stavos to raise his sword, slicing deep into her side. She groaned.

     

    “Do… do I not deserve honor?”

     

    Stavos plunged his sword deeper into her side, bringing his face just inches from hers.

     

    “Only if you were a man.”

     

    The queen gasped and her eyes shut. For a moment, her fingers flailed in the air, grasping at the lithe legs of the Boundarian babe. A swift gurgling sound came from her face and throat, and ample droplets of blood trickle from her wound to the ground. She fell to her knees.

     

    For a moment, she stared up at Stavos, grasping; she was on her knees, begging for mercy. Her tongue extended for a mouth, and she moved to lick the prince’s boot. Mercy was at hand.

     

    One solid kick, and the Queen tumbled off the cliff, disappearing into the treeline.

     

    Stavos grinned.

     

     

Chapter 4

    Boundaria Castle’s war room had new additions.

    The first, and most obvious, was the painting of Stavos conquering the Amazons. He hadn’t bothered to make it accurate; it was merely a representation of his great triumph. It was a bold image, showing him towering over hundreds of fleeing Amazons… even if he had only captured a few dozen while the rest retreated into the jungles. The image had been specially commissioned. It was a worthy one, showing the Prince in his masculine glory.

    The second, and less obvious, was a WANTED poster – one claiming a sizeable reward of gold pieces and influence for anyone who could provide information as to who arranged for Stavos’s capture. Such an offense was a capital crime, and much was made of the possible perpetrators.

    The third was, unfortunately, Lado. Still encased in his rubbery prison, he had become a literal fixture at court. He sat in the throne room, moaning occasionally, still imprisoned. Two court magisters doted on him, attempted to inscribe runes and break the spell. They had had some success thus far… after all, Stavos had decreed that all so-called ‘magicians’ in the city would be put to death if they didn’t find a cure for Lado’s condition!

    And the fourth was a slave. The least noticeable, this slave wore the tattoos of an Amazon but the slave leathers of… well, a Boundarian captive.

    She moaned, lustfully, moving her tongue up and down her Master’s boot. Prince Stavos grinned, moving her head in close against his shoes.

    “Aurelia, did you really think I was going to let you go free? Or have any power whatsoever?” Stavos tugged his conquest’s hair. Lori and Lydia both grinned, standing straight at his side.

    “Sorry, dear. I am indeed a Prince, for I know how to rule others… and myself. Now, keep licking.”

    The moaning and licking of the slaves, and the laughter of the victorious Stavos echoed through the halls of Boundaria castle.