Khadir of the Desert

Khadir of the Desert

 

Have you not heard of how Alexander The Great lost his heart during a wrestling match with a Princess of the desert? Do you not know of the part she played in the world-conquering Macedonian#s quest of the fabled Elixer of Life?

The following is a little of what your teachers and textbooks never told you.

It had been prophesied of Alexander that he would conquer most of the known world, yet die at such a young age that he would have little time to rule it. Having encompassed and extended Hellenic civilization by his victories, he abruptly laid off further efforts at conquest, and, like others before him (but backed by the greatest army ever known to the world#s history), went in quest of THE IMMORTALITY OF THE GODS, the second part of the prophecy of a much shortened life apparently becoming a creditable concern.

And that, dear reader, is how he came across the woman who was forgotten by history, but who conquered even Alexander The Great in naked erotic combat.  She was called Khadir.

Khadir, before she was captured in battle by a member of Alexander#s army, had been a desert warrior, eldest daughter of a Bedouin chief. She had been brought up from childhood like the young son Sheik Mohammed bin Abi Dhu#ayb never had, a fearless warrior of the tribe.

She could ride an Arabian stallion before she was nine, notch an arrow and pull a strongly strung bow before she was twelve years of age. And by the time she had reached womanhood, the beautiful desert damsel could take to the ground any male her own size and there wrestle him unto submission. No man had ever bedded her, although many had tried and failed, and she remained an Amazon Warrior Virgin.

But none of this did Alexander know when Khadir was brought before him by one of his chief lieutenants, after she had been captured during a raid on her father#s camp.

What Alexander saw was a young female in tattered robes, bedraggled hair and battle-grimed features. Even then, despite her outward appearance, the girl#s natural beauty had shown through to the Greek#s eyes.  She was of darker skin than Alexander, with prominent cheekbones and an aquiline nose that gave her a slightly haughty look. A firm jaw line, columnar neck and wide shoulders hinted at strength, yet the maidenly curves and smooth flesh kept her from appearing too much the Amazon for Alexander#s taste. 

The girl#s hands were cruelly bound in front of her with stout cord. She tried to raise them to sweep away the ink-black hair from her face, and Alexander could see a bare arm that possessed an unexpected ripple of muscularity. But his attention was directed to the more womanly curve of her breasts, barely hidden by the tattered rags she wore.

Alexander decided to keep her for his own, and had her handed over to the old woman who supervised his slaves. Old Mithra, however, immediately recognized beneath the tatters and layers of dirt a warrior woman of whom she had heard strange stories, and the old woman suddenly found herself afraid.

For she had heard the tales told in whispers over campfires concerning the daughter of the local Emir who had discovered the Living Waters of the Desert, had bathed therein, she who was called Khadir #The Evergreen# - One Ever Fresh With Life. It was said that once she had emerged from the Living Water, she neither hungered or thirsted, nor feared any worldly thing.

Khadir, having gone therein and returned therefrom was now said to be more than a mere mortal female.  The Living Water had also bestowed upon her an abundance of beauty, physical strength and an athletic female physique as smoothly muscled as a desert lioness.

And yet, Old Mithra thought to herself, this girl/woman had let herself be taken captive and now knelt before the Great Conqueror like some timid, common slave. Why?

Why indeed? And therein lies our tale.

 #Sire, I fear this woman#, said Mitha in her thin, reedy voice. #My instinct tells me that she will become the instrument of the gods to cause your death. You must kill her. Now!#

Alexander#s hooded dark eyes glanced over at his Captain of the Guard, Vibarius. The young officer had risen up through the ranks, partly on his own merits, but mostly because Alexander had become infatuated with this tall, dark and handsome male and taken him as a lover.

#So what think you, Vibarius, should such a magnificent female creature be wasted?

The young officer gave a disdainful look at Khadir and then smiled at his master and his general.  #What need does Alexander have of this desert slut when he has much more interesting diversions close at hand?#

Alexander smiled thoughtfully. It was true that the warrior woman had quite surprisingly aroused him, but here was Vibarius, his lover of the moment who could and would fulfilled his sexual needs just as well.

That Alexander was bisexual was certainly no secret to his officers. It was a completely accepted way of life in ancient Greece, and widely practiced both in Athens and the outlands among the Greek elite, both in and out of the military. Alexander first lover had been his childhood friend, Hephaestion, with whom he had fought side-by-side during most of his campaigns.  Vibarius, who Alexander had made his Captain of the Guard, had taken Hephaestion#s place both in and out of bed upon the former#s untimely death.

#Alright,# muttered Alexander #Have it your way. But we keep the girl alive. From the looks of her, she might do well in the arena.  Wouldn#t you like to see her wrestle?#

Vibarius lips curled into a cold smile. #Better yet, Sire, let me be the one to test her strength, but in a Spartan death wrestle!#

The woman#s head swiveled to look at Vibarius, her eyes glittering fiercely as she appraised the big man. There was no fear, just intense loathing, for she instinctively knew what he was. Vibarius was not a sexual threat!

Alexander laughed. He knew full well that what Vibarius had in mind was to dispatch a potential rival for Alexander#s affections.  But still,  Alexander found himself fantasizing about what their two naked bodies would look like entangled and hard-flexed in a straining struggle.

#Perhaps later, Vibarius. Right now let#s get the wench cleaned up and see what we actually have. So take her, Mithra, and have the women see to her wounds and bathe her. Get her new garments, too.#

Mithra started to say something, but she caught Vibarius# quick nod.  #I hear and shall obey, Sire#.

At Old Mithra#s insistence, Khadir#s hands were bound behind her back and iron shackles were placed around her ankles.  A burly legionnaire circled a leather thong around the woman#s neck, knotted so that he could choke her if she made a move to escape.  As if unconsciously aware of this desert warrior woman#s incredible strength and dangerous fighting ability, he walked several paces behind Khadir.

And it was thus that they took Khadir, the captured Warrior Princess, to the camp followers tents. Once there, Mithra turned the desert woman over to a quiet, dark-skinned Nubian woman, taller even than was Khadir.  Displaying no fear of the desert woman, the Nubian demanded that the soldiers release Khadir#s bonds. A moment later, the legionnaires departed and the two women were left alone.

#Strip down!# demanded the Nubian. She saw the quick flare of anger in Khadir#a dark eyes, but seemed unperturbed by it.  Like some powerful black panther, the woman padded slowly around Khadir, while being careful to keep just out of the warrior woman#s reach.

For a moment it appeared that Khadir would refuse. Her eyes were hot and angry as she looked the statuesque woman up and down. She took in the powerful shoulders, the long arms heavy with muscle. The African possessed a pair of rounded biceps that flexed with rippling strength. The big woman had a flat, hard belly with abdominals that stood out in bold, carved relief. Above was a well-defined upper torso; a wide chest bearing solid, beautifully sculpted breasts that were tipped with small, hard nipples.  The strong curve of her pectorals kept the thrusting mounds of woman-flesh jutting arrogantly aloft.

Khadir couldn#t help herself from wondering how those solid globes would feel cupped in her hands as, in her fantasy, her eager fingers caressed the Nubian#s smooth, firm flesh. Khadir felt a tingle of arousal at the thought. 

Almost as if picking up Khadir#s thoughts, the Nubian gave the desert woman a quick, penetrating look of appraisal. It was as if she looked at this dirt-smeared, tattered clothed female for the first time, really looked at her! And although her smoldering black eyes gave no hint,  the Nubian was intrigued.

The woman suddenly turned her back on Khadir, displaying a contemptuous distain for what Khadir might do.  #Strip!# she again demanded over her shoulder in a voice that was used to being obeyed.

#By Allah, I#d love to bed this bitch, after I broke her properly# thought Khadir to herself.  But it was neither the time nor the place, so the desert warrior woman did as she had been commanded and began to strip down. 

She moved slowly and insolently with the languid movements of a woman with all the time in the world and not to be hurried. Once free of the tattered and torn robes, Khadir stood there in magnificent nudity, her splendid physique now completely revealed. Aside from the fact that the Nubian had perhaps an inch or so in height over Khadir and the difference in skin color, the two women could have been twins.

The Nubian#s eyes gleamed with sudden interest as she let her gaze wander over Khadr#s well-muscled body. What had only been hinted at beneath the dirty robes was now to be fully seen, and the dark-skinned woman was impressed. 

The Nubian took in the length of Khadr#s legs; long legs sculpted with hard, sinewy muscle that served to accentuate the sense of their potential strength. Years of riding horses bareback, as was the custom of her people, had strengthened Khadir#s thighs into pillars of power. The Nubian raised her eyes to the desert warrior#s narrow, tight waist. The woman had a taut belly that rippled with hard-packed sinew, boasting three distinctive abdominal sections on either side of a shallow vertical trench dividing them.  Up above was a broad, powerful chest upon which sat the woman#s melon-solid breasts, anchored by a set of shoulders that would have seemed too broad on a smaller woman.

The Nubian continued to prowl around Khadir, taking in the superbly muscled expanse of the warrior woman#s back that rippled with strength even in repose. Her eyes slid down to Khadr#s bare buttocks with their hard-packed glutes. She gave a little shiver, having a difficult time in keeping her hands off the half-moon roundness of Khadir#s curvaceous rump.

While there appeared to be a lot of muscle in Khadir#s body, it was nonetheless so well distributed that she appeared much less dense than she really was.  While the Nubian was massively muscled, the desert warrior was more lean and sinewy in her physique. It was as if the desert sun had baked off any excess woman-fat, leaving only long, flat musculature that padded her tall figure.  And not even the smeared dirt smudging both face and figure could hide this young Amazon#s beauty.

#How are you called, woman?#  demanded the Nubian.

#My given name is Khadir, and who might you be, bitch!#

The big woman#s eyes flashed dangerously as she looked Khadir up and down. She slid her gaze slowly along the other woman#s supple, well-muscled curves as if inspecting a captured wild mare that she had been called upon to break.  It was definitely a woman#s body, but also that of a  warrior; a physique honed to perfection, strength-trained and as dangerous as a sharpened blade. 

#Not that it is any of your business, Slave Girl, but you can call me Mistress Nghana, for I will be your mistress from now on. Henceforth, you will answer to me.#

#No man is my master, no woman my mistress unless they prove themselves to be my better,# murmured Khadir in a deceptively soft voice that was as much taunt as an answer.

The Nubian#s face flushed darkly beneath the coppery skin. She was not used to any woman giving her challenge, as it appeared this dirt-streaked desert warrior was doing.

#Oh, I think that we can arrange to see if you#re to be humbled or not,# said Nghana in a lazy drawl.  Even as she spoke, the Nubian was slipping out of her short tunic, under which she was nude except for a brief loincloth.

Since Khadir had already completely stripped, the two Amazons were ready to test one another#s strength in an ultimate contest between two such Alpha females, a nude-bodied wrestle of domination.

Like two feral cats they circled one another, padding on bare feet around the dusty courtyard. Arms extended and fingers clawed, they reached out for each other to lock holds as the two women cautiously shuffled forward.

Khadir didn#t know what style of fighting the big Nubian would use, but she knew it would be different from her own. The desert people of her tribe were more used to ground grappling than the more stylized Greek catch and throw version that Nghana would probably utilize. So she approached the big woman warily.

Suddenly, in a rush, the two magnificent bodies met with a thud of bare flesh. Just as Khadir had thought, Nghana went for a hip throw. Khadir swiveled away at the last second, reaching down for Nghana#s muscular leg with both hands.  A split-second later she had off-balanced the Nubian and taken her down. Khadir was astride the Nubian before she could react, clamping Nghana in a combination headlock and leg scissor hold.  Her own hard-muscled thighs clamped around the waist of her adversary, slim ankles crossed and locked into place beneath the Nubian#s belly. Then she squeezed #. Hard!

At the same time both her arms were grappled around Nghana#s sinewy neck, fingers entwined to form the lock. Her biceps surged up into sight, forming hard balls of strength as she put on the pressure.

Nghana was certainly not just lying there acquiescing to what was happening to her.  The Nubian was writhing like a snake beneath Khadir#s supple weight. Her own arms came up to encircle Khadir#s neck in a duplicate headlock, her own mighty biceps flexed up in quivering hardness. But Khadir still maintained her scissor-lock and her lithe weight kept the African pinned beneath her, thus she had the advantage; slight though it might be.

The two women lay there in the deserted, sand-strewn courtyard as they wrestled furiously for dominance. There was no sound except for their labored breathing and occasionally a grunt of pain.  But quite surprisingly, their faces bore no sign of anger or stress, instead there were smiles of pleasure upon the lips of both combatants.

Neither of them had ever met a woman with greater strength. In fact, Khadir had never wrestled harder with any of the men in her tribe. For once, the desert warrior was being held in check by an adversary who possessed just as much muscle and skill in this most ancient of forms of unarmed combat. And Khadir truly found that to be exhilarating!

For her part, the Nubian was not only enjoying this contest of female strength, but she was becoming aroused from the bare-bodied contact of flesh-on-flesh.  Their nude bodies slid together luxuriously, the film of sweat that now gleamed on hard-flexed muscularity lubricating their flesh as they strained together.  They lay together, cheek-to-cheek, as tightly entwined as two impassioned lovers. They moved in slow motion with the only evidence of the ferocity of their effort seen in the bunched and quivering female musculature as they strained in their impromptu wrestle.

Reaching for a better hold on the woman locked atop her, Nghana#s hands slid down across Khadir#s lithe hips until her fingers felt the firmly rounded globes of her buttocks. It was as though her hands had cupped sculpted marble, so solid was the muscle beneath the slippery flesh. Her long legs reached up and back, curling her powerful thighs  around the desert warrior#s upper body and  pulling her backward in a reverse scissors-hold of her own making. They lay there, locked head-to-toe in a strange kind of 69-like position, each captured in the other#s powerful thighs. Pure unadulterated strength, not skill, would determine the outcome of this new twist in their contest of dominance.

Khadir#s upper body felt as though it was locked within the crushing coils of  some huge python, slowly constricting her with unbelievable strength. Nghana#s muscular thighs were locked tight across Khadir#s breasts, pulling her backward like a taut bow. This left her almost sitting in the Nubian#s lap, her own scissors-lock still in place around the other woman#s waist. But in that awkward angle Khadir could not bring much strength to bear in her hold, at least not as much as her opponent was generating with her own crushing thighs.

It was the sweat that washed their bodies that saved Khadir.  She gave up her own scissors and twisted within the Nubian#s savage grip like a wet eel, wriggling around until she was lying front-to-front. Her long legs reached out and snaked around Nghana#s upper torso instead of her waist, sliding slickly up and around the Nubian#s head. Now they lay locked once again in a 69 position, but this time face-to-crotch.

Khadir found that she could hardly breath within that hold, and what air she could find was laced with the smell of sweat and the musk-like scent of female pheromones. It was a combination of odors that aroused Khadir#s passions to a fever pitch. Not too surprisingly, Nghana who was also locked in a similar position within Khadir#s mighty thighs was inhaling the same pungent sexual pheromones and was becoming equally aroused.

Two sets of hands began exploring the sweat-slick flesh that lay beneath their touch; eager fingers sliding across the hot skin, feeling the sinuous ripple and play of the hard-flexed layers of muscle. There came the muffled sounds of soft moaning from deep within the respective scissor-holds, although neither woman could hear it, locked tightly within the prisons of crushing flesh as they were. Neither did they hear the clatter of horses hoofs or the shout of anger from the rider who had just unexpectantally come upon them.

Rough hands pried and jerked the two startled women apart.  Surrounding them were four soldiers, supervised by none other than Vibarius. Alexander#s young Captain of the Guard was furious at the scene which he had come upon and did not fully understand.  What his eyes had seen and his ears heard was more akin to impassioned love-making than a contest of strength and will, at least that was what was in his angry mind.

#I knew this desert slut would be trouble,# he muttered to himself as he dismounted. #Put that woman back in chains,# he demanded, pointing at Khadir.  #And I want the Nubian whipped within an inch of her life,# he continued with a furious look at the African slave-mistress.

Vibarius turned away abruptly, but then froze in his tracks. #No, wait! I have a better idea,# he smiled darkly.

THE DEATH GRAPPLE

 

Twenty minutes later, the two disheveled woman found themselves standing within a circle of leering men, most of them stripped down nude with their skins gleaming with oil.  They were crowded into a hastily constructed wrestling pit of some twenty feet in diameter. The assembled soldiers were eagerly awaiting the selection of which one of them would have their chance at the Desert Princess first.

Vibarius had come up with an ingenious scheme, one that would rid him of a potential rival for Alexander#s attention  without soiling his own hands.  Khadir would be forced to fight for her life. Her opponent would be someone chosen by lot from among the soldiers, and to the victor would go the spoils.

Due to her reputation, it was expected that it would take more than one or two to force a submission of the muscular Desert Amazon, perhaps even more. It was the anticipation of seeing this haughty female warrior crushed into subjugation that excited the men, for everyone of them fantasized making this beautiful young woman yield her delights to them. 

Finally, one of the men was chosen. He was a huge brute of a soldier, a#bristle with body hair and massively built.  Between the pillars of his thighs hung a thick snake of a cock, already coming to life in anticipation of what was to take place down in that pit.

Standing across from him, Khadir looked at him with hooded eyes; sizing him up, seeking out any point of weakness #. aside from the dangling unprotected cock. She felt a slight tremor; not of fear, but of revulsion at what she must do.

And then, amidst the wildly cheering onlookers, the two nude wrestlers – male and female – began the first round of their Death Battle.

Vibarius stood just behind Nghana, whose arms were bound tightly and whose legs were shackled.  One of his hands was snarled in Nghana#s crinkly hair, forcing her to look down into the pit.  The other hand caressed the former slave-mistress#s strong, columnar neck with an ominous gentleness.

#Look you closely, Bitch Woman, for this is to be your fate as well, # sneered the Guard Captain into her ear.  #I have saved you for my own amusement, but the result will be the same as for the desert slut. You will die, exquisitely and oh so slowly at my hands.#

He felt a shiver course its way along her powerful body and mistook it for fear. It was anger, fueled by a raging desire to bring this cocky male#s life to a close in the most painful way possible. For the moment, however, she stoked the hot embers of hate to save it for a better time.

Down below them the two naked wrestlers had come to grips, each applying a variation of the same combination of holds on the other.  They were tightly entwined around one another as each strained to take their opponent to the ground.  They teetered and tottered around the pit as they tried to off-balance one another.  Finally, Khadir managed to twine both legs around one of the big male#s, leaned back abruptly, and down they went.  What Khadir had not counted on was her opponent twisting in her grip so that when they fell he was on top.

His greater weight came into play as he smothered her beneath his naked body. His heavy thighs went around her in a half-scissors, keeping her in place, while his hands were stretching her muscular arms out to the side.

A cheer came from the crowd of spectators, as it appeared that the huge wrestler had the female pinned and helpless. A split-second later, the cheers turned to an explosive grunt of surprise when their champion and the woman suddenly changed places.  Now Khadir was stretched out atop the man, her own mighty thighs already encircling his waist in a crushing scissor-lock even as her muscled arms coiled around his neck in a sleeper hold.

She gave a grunt of effort and hard biceps exploded into view as she drew tight the firm-fleshed noose around his throat. She had him!

A murmur of astonishment came from the crowd. The fight was over almost before it began.  Even though the big male still thrashed feebly against the woman#s sweat-slick body and his hands scrabbled for some kind of purchase on the wet body pinning him down to the ground, the crowd knew that it was over.  Then, with an almost lazy movement, the woman#s arms flexed steel-hard and the on-looking crowd  heard the snapping of the big male#s neck.  It was over! The desert princess had outwrestled their champion.

Nghana turned to look at Vibarius, her dark eyes hot with excitement, a faint smile tugging at her lush lips.

#So, Greek, did you look closely at what a mere female can do to one of your men?# the Nubian asked softly.  #And do you somehow think that you#d do better # with either of us?#

And down below, having crawled up to her feet, Khadir stood proudly as she slowly flexed her splendid muscles and raised a fist in a gesture of victory. Then she waited for her next opponent to be chosen.

Not so eager now, the crowd of oiled and nude wrestlers jostled one another to get to the back of the group, none of them wanting to be the one chosen next to meet this splendid Amazon in hand-to-hand combat. A tall, lean man of slightly older age stepped forward. It was Urs, a taciturn mercenary who was one of Alexander#s imported soldiers from the North Country. He was as deadly a fighter as he was quiet. And what he lacked in bulky muscularity, he more than made up in a Northman#s skill at wrestling. 

The crowd quickly voiced their approval of the choice with a roar. Now the warrior bitch would surely be defeated.

#I vill wrassle you, woman, if you dare match holds wid me,# Urs said in a heavily accented, low-pitched rumble.  He stood there, oiling his body in preparation for the fight, a chilling smile on his thin lips.

Khadir examined the man, her smoldering eyes alert as they cruised his battle-scarred body.  There was strength there, a wiry kind of strength that spoke of his speed. He was the kind of fighter who relied on explosive agility rather than brute force. They would be, Khadir realized, a good match for one another.

Khadir#s body was still slick with sweat, so she needed no oiling and no warm up. She was ready to #wrassle#!

#Come, then, let#s see how well you do with a woman who is both stronger and more skilled than you seem to be,#  she said with a cold smile.  #Give me a good workout and I may let you live in the end. But I will win,# she promised.

The two naked wrestlers moved forward, he with caution, she with eagerness to lock holds with the male.  They raised their hands, each inviting the other to lock fingers in a test of strength.  But as Urs came forward he suddenly leaped at Khadir, slipping under her outstretched arms as he went for a bear-hug.  He caught her by surprise, and he was able to lift her off her feet as he bent back and crushed her against his naked body. Her sinewy weight was too much for him and the two of them toppled to the ground. Urs still had his bear-hug in place, but not with the same leverage.

Khadir was on the bottom, the male wrestler keeping her pinned beneath his squirming weight. There was nothing for her to do but match his hold, and her muscular arms slid up to embrace him within a wrenching bear-hug of her own.  Then her long legs came into play, wrapping around his waist.  With her hard calves against his back and her slim ankles crossed to form the lock, Khadir captured the male within a prison of muscular flesh. With a grunt, she squeezed him with both thighs and arms. Urs gave a quick whimper of pain and fought against the agony of her dual holds. He was in trouble, and he knew it.

With a grunt of effort, Khadir bridged up beneath Urs, lifting their combined weight off the ground. She momentarily unwrapped her legs from around the male, and using her heels as a fulcrum against the ground, the big woman heaved upward and lurched to one side, tumbling her opponent from atop her. They struggled furiously in the dirt, rolling over and over with first one on top and then the other. When the dust settled Khadir had prevailed and held the man securely beneath her.

Urs was sprawled on all fours face down. Khadir was astride his back, her powerful legs on either side of his trunk, as if she were riding one of her desert stallions.  She slid them around and underneath his heaving belly, squeezing tightly against his ribs. Khadir inched her legs down further, her heels digging into his groin area so as to secure the hold.

At the same time she thrust one of her sinewy forearms up tight beneath his throat, while her opposite hand slipped around the other side to grip the wrist and lock in the hold.  Solidly rounded biceps flexed into knots of strength as she applied pressure

Khadir had leaned forward to clamp on that neck lock and her bare breasts were pressed hard against Ur#s muscular back. As he strained against her holds, those thick sinews rippled, slithered like snakes, flexing against the sweaty globes of her breasts. Khadir realized that she rather liked the stimulation that was hardening her nipples. And she was not alone in experiencing erotic arousal.

Caught up in the excitement of battle, the naked wrestler#s body responded to the stimulation of the woman#s heels jammed into his groin, his cock aroused itself from slumber and began to harden.  It was simply a natural reaction, one that even two male wrestlers often experienced in the passion of body-against-body straining struggle.  But this was a magnificently muscled female who wrestled him, and his arousal was thus even stronger. Khadir felt the stirring of the naked wrestler#s member pressing hard against her heel, uncoiling like a big snake.  With a smile, she slid a leg down to press hard against the bulging lump.

At the same time, Khadir was suddenly very aware of the male#s hard-muscled butt-globes bulging against her Venus mound. As Urs fought her dual holds, he arched up, hardening his glutes in a rhythmic spasm of effort as he fought to free himself from her clutches.  It was like a giant fist pressing against her labial lips in an erotic rhythm, and she could not help but respond.

She smiled as she felt her own arousal taking place. This was more to her liking, she could enjoy that kind of wrestling as much as any woman. In fact, much more so than most. Khadir enjoyed rough sex, whether with a man or woman.  And now her blood was boiling with desire.

In an amazing feat of strength, the desert Amazon released her holds just long enough to flip Urs over on his back, then locked him into the hot prison of her muscled limbs once again.  Her long legs slipped back under his hips,  entwining her ankles as she secured that devilish scissor-lock again. Her legs beneath his hips arched and lifted him up hard against her, his now fully engorged cock jammed against the thick soft mat of pubic hair that guarded the portal of her sex. The hard swollen head of his cock prodded against the soft lips of her labia, seeking entry yet being resisted. A different kind of wrestling was taking place down there!

Her own clitoris came to life, the slowly stiffening nubbin of flesh thickening and protuberant, jousting with the big cock that sought penetration.  Their movements slowed to an almost languid pace as each gave in to their quick rising arousal.  Their hot breath panted and sweat poured over them as they strained, slowly humping together.

Finally, Urs managed a reverse, putting Khadir on her back and splaying his big body atop hers. He locked her in a crushing bear-hug as they lay belly to flat belly. Inserted between her muscular thighs, he set about the process of grinding her into submission and letting his battle lust take his reward.

Again Urs attempted to seek penetration with his turgid, throbbing manhood, but it was a portal through which no man had ever passed # until that moment. With a cruel smile, Khadir shifted her lithe hips and brought her thighs up and around Ur#s back, positioning herself just so until he could at last do his deed.

Urs thrust his insistent cock into Khadir#s hot, moist shaft #. and by the Gods, it felt so-oooo good.  Urs tried to move his hips and begin to stroke, but his swollen member was held tight within the wet warmth of her by satin-soft interior muscles that began milking him like a clenching fist. He groaned as his hard-locked muscles gave way, and he almost fainted.  Khadir had him!

Khadir had allowed this sexual dominance on Urs# part for the solitary purpose of weakening the male for a final submission  to her Amazonian strength.  She sought not his seed, but his abject surrender.

Khadir#s splendidly muscled legs unwrapped themselves from around his hips, stretching down to grapevine his legs as she ground Urs into the dirt. Her hands gripped both his wrists, pinning them down. Then she inched forward until her heavy breasts were half-smothering his face within the deep crevasse between the solid mounds of woman-flesh. As she hugged him to her, the great muscles of her sleek body bulged and rippled with sensuous strength. She was enjoying this erotic combat, but did not intend to let the man release his load. She would still be the virgin Princess.

Khadir  leaned down until her hot breath was gusting in his ear. #You are mine, now! Yield to me,# she whispered. Urs began to writhe beneath her, attempting to regain masculine mastery over this splendidly muscled Amazon, but he was too late. 

The wild noise of the crowd grew quiet, as the men realized that the tempo of the wrestling had changed to that of the final stage. The end of that all-out contest of strength was upon them.  In that sudden hush, a voice rang out!

#What goes here?# demanded an angry Captain of the Guard. #This is not fighting, this is but a man and woman rutting together like animals in the dirt. It is unseemly!# Vibarius spat out in an indignant voice.

The big Black Amazon at his side turned to him with a hard smile stretching her lips. #No,  it is not #rutting#, it is wrestling according to women#s rules where all is fair in love or war. We merely combine the two!#

Down below in the pit, Khadir was lifting herself from off the vanquished male with whom she had wrestle long and hard.  He lay there unconscious, yet still alive. Khadir had promised him that much for a good match. 

The desert princess stood there, nude, her splendid muscles pumped into sculpted prominence by her exertions, her big body glistening with a film of sweat. She was magnificent!

One of the many pairs of eyes that stared at the young Amazon in awe was owned by none other than Alexander. The great man stood at the entrance to his tent almost shaking with excitement from what he had just witnessed. The young general ached with desire to have that splendid body locked to his own, to match his strength with Khadir#s. He was like a moth drawn to the fire.  But it was not yet his time to wrestle with the Desert Princess who stood in the pit so beautiful and defiant .... not yet!

A strange hush had fallen over the crowd as they looked upon that savage beauty, a female who had already outwrestled two of their best champions. As her cool dark eyes slid over them, they cringed and ducked their head, afraid that this mighty Amazon would call upon them next.

But then she turned, lifted her head and stared directly at Vibarius. She pointed a long finger at him and gave the Captain of the Guard an icy smile.

#You are next, Alexander#s bitch boy! Come down here and wrestle with me, if you dare.#

Now the question is: did he? And would you have? 

That#s the rest of the tale to be told of Khadir of the Desert and Alexander The Great. 

 

To Be Continued