The Amazons are Coming! A male army is massacred by Amazon girl warriors. 
By Hardie. hardiewh@aol.com



When we heard that the Amazons were coming, ten thousand men from all over the
Kingdom flocked to the banner of my Lord, Prince Zarof The Magnificent. The
promise of an easy victory over a small force of five thousand women, together
with the chance to capture and enslave one of the reputedly beautiful girl
warriors, made recruitment easy!

Prince Zarof was so full of confidence in the superiority of the forces under
his command, that training, drills and manoeuvres were thought to be
unnecessary. Ten Generals were appointed, each to command a cohort of a
thousand men, and the men were sent arbitrarily to a cohort in roughly equal
numbers. Even those men with horses, who had expected to fight in a cavalry
regiment, were split up amongst the cohorts for each General to use as he
fancied.

It was all a mighty muddle, and, as the Generals were all members of the royal
family, and had little, if any, military experience, it stayed a muddle to the
very end!

However, we set off to do battle in the very best of spirits. Prince Zarof
produced an order of march, which was largely adhered to, and the sun shone
brightly on our host as we went off to teach the invading women the folly of
trying to take on men in combat.

We knew little about the Amazons, except that they occupied some territory in
the mountains to the East of our Kingdom. We shared a vaguely defined border
for about two miles, where a nearly impassable river rushed through steep
sided valleys before easing into the foothills and meandering off to the
southern sea.

Apparently, some of our more adventurous young men had found a way to cross
the river, attacked an Amazon hamlet and carted several prime young female
captives back across the river to the Kingdom.

Soon afterwards an Amazon envoy, a comely enough maiden, who didn't look in
the least bit dangerous, arrived to demand firstly the return of the captives,
and secondly, the handing over to the Amazons of the men who were responsible
for the kidnapping. Otherwise, the Amazons would come and get them!

Prince Zarof treated the envoy with total contempt, and sent her on her way
with a message to the effect that it would be nice if the Amazons crossed the
river as he was a bit short of female slaves!

Now five thousand of them had taken up the challenge, and were in the process
of hunting down every man who had invaded their territory and using them for
archery practice!

Day one passed without incident, but, on the morning of day two Prince Zarof
awoke to be presented with a note from his younger brother, Rudolph, informing
us that his men were too impatient to get at the enemy to wait for the rest of
the army and had gone off in the early hours of the morning to find the
Amazons and defeat them for the glory of the Kingdom!

Any other commander would have gone apoplectic at such blatant disregard of
orders, but Zarof just laughed, telling everyone that this was so typical of
his brother, wanting to get the pick of the women warriors for himself.

However, the pace of the army's advance picked up considerably, as each cohort
strove to catch up with Rudolph for fear of missing out on the action.

We caught up with the errant cohort midway through the afternoon.

As we topped a rise and looked down a wide, green valley, we saw the men in
the distance. At first it looked as if they'd stopped and were resting, but,
as we went closer, we began to feel uneasy at the total lack of movement among
the men.

Zarof called a halt and summoned me to his side. "Go ahead and find out what
is going on!" he ordered.

It didn't take me long! I'd only gone about half way when the smell began to
take effect. The smell of spilt blood, evacuated bowels, of butchered flesh,
the smell of death!

The Amazon women had obviously caught Rudolph's cohort unawares. It was a
scene from Hell itself! Dead men lay everywhere, singly and in heaps, where
the female warriors had slaughtered them in their hundreds. The huge numbers
of hoof marks on the ground told the story. The men had been slain by female
cavalry.

Both my mount and myself were keen to get away from this tableau of massacre
and carnage, but I knew Zarof would want a full report.

I called out as I rode slowly over the macabre landscape of death, hoping to
find survivors. But there were none. Every man in Rudolph's cohort had
perished at the hands of the Amazon girl soldiers.

I found Rudolph. He lay spread-eagled on his back. It looked as though he'd
taken an arrow in his throat, though the shaft had been removed by the
Amazons, as had all other weapons and horses.

I was glad to leave the scene of so much carnage and report back to Prince
Zarof, who's anger was totally terrifying.

"We will get these women. We will rape them. We will whip them. We will cut
off their breasts and we will slice open their bodies like gutted fish!
FORWARD men! Vengeance is ours!"

We went forward. For two more days we went forward as fast as we could,
following the hoof marks across the undulating terrain. Many men dropped out,
exhausted by the speed set by our Prince. Many others discarded what they
thought was surplus equipment, mainly shields and long, cumbersome spears.

In the evening of the second day, at the ford of a wide, gently flowing river,
the hoof marks disappeared!

We set up camp by the river. Riders were sent out to try to pick up the trail
once more, but to no avail, as darkness soon closed in and made the search
pointless.

"They are trying to throw us off the scent!" raved Zarof. "But they will not
succeed. They run like startled hares but we will move faster. There will be
no escape from the vengeance of Zarof, and every last feeble woman warrior
will be spitted by the swords of my mighty men! We will find them!!"

Next morning we awoke to discover that they'd 'found' us! Not only that, the
whole Amazon army had circled round behind us, and was forming up across the
face of some rising ground about half a mile away, cutting off our route back
to our homes.

There was a great deal of shouting and scurrying around as Zarof sent out
orders to form up to attack. It was most noticeable that, while the Amazons
formed up in an organised, precise, military way, our men blundered about,
with no idea of where they should go, except that they belonged to a
particular cohort.

Our advance looked more like a mob working up to a riot, than an army marching
into battle.

Somehow, Zarof got everyone to stop about two hundred yards from the Amazon
lines. He summoned the 'Generals' and told them that all they had to do was
walk forward at an even pace, then charge, yelling their battle cries, when he
gave the signal!

"They will break and run when they see our force hurtling towards them! Chase
them down. Take as many as possible alive, gentlemen! Today we will avenge our
slain brethren. Tonight we will enjoy the fruits of our victory! Now brief
your troops and await my signal."

I tried to point out that there was something wrong about the Amazon
formation. It had been cavalry which had slaughtered Rudolph's cohort. But
there were only a handful of riders visible in the Amazon formation, and they
were obviously messengers, as they galloped to and fro from time to time, no
doubt delivering orders.

"Yes, yes," Zarof brushed my fears aside. "It's obvious they've left their
mounts behind the crest of the slope, to use them to escape if they can when
we attack! Now stop fussing and make yourself useful. Take this back to my
tent by the river. It's too warm for such a garment on a day like this!"

He handed me his heavy, royal blue, woollen cloak.

"Make sure you fold it properly!" he ordered, as I set off back to the camp
site.

Needless to say, I carried out my mission as quickly as possible, determined
to see as much of the battle as I could. And I saw it all! Every last male
blunder! Every successful female ploy!

I topped a rise on my way back to the battleground, a tiny hillock about a
hundred yards behind the army, which gave me a wonderful panoramic view of the
scene.

Our men were advancing steadily enough. Zarof raised his arm, and I assumed he
was about to give the order to charge, when a sudden wave of blinding light
flashed across the battlefield from the Amazon line straight into the faces of
the male army.

At the same time there was the noise of a million angry bees.

Being above the beam of light, I could what was happening.

The Amazons had circled behind our army, not, as we thought, to cut us off
from our route home, but to be able to face the low, morning sun! They had
polished the fronts of their rectangular, bronze shields and were using them
to reflect the light from the sun into the faces of our men.

Then, into the confusion, a thousand archers released their shafts of death.
Volley after volley flew into the milling mob of half blind men.

Our young male soldiers went down by the hundred as the girls' arrows thudded
into their unprotected bodies. Shields, which could have saved many lives, had
long since been discarded on the frantic march to the battlefield. Now we paid
the price, as the Amazon girls decimated our ranks until they ran out of
arrows.

Our army was in disarray. Zarof, together with most of the men on horseback,
had gone down in the first volley, obviously targeted by one of the Amazon's
best archers. Many more 'Generals' had suffered the same fate.

Some men were still blindly walking forward, others were trying to go back.
Most were milling around, not knowing what to do. Dead and wounded men lay
everywhere. Nobody seemed to have taken over command.

Then, screaming like a mighty flock of giant raptors, the girls charged! There
were only about a thousand of them. We still outnumbered them six or seven to
one, but our men were so demoralised by the events so far that they broke and
turned and ran!

That's when the female cavalry, the bulk of the Amazon army, appeared out of
some woodland to our left. For them, it was the perfect scenario. An army of
infantry in disarray, with no formations, no long spears to defend themselves
and with flanks wide open to attack.

Three to four thousand horsewomen thundered into the flank tour army, cutting
down our men like reapers clearing a field of ripened corn.

The first pass left a swathe of destruction through our fleeing cohorts. But
the girls weren't finished. With disciplined precision, the cavalry squadrons
wheeled round, extended their lines somewhat and charged once more into the
surviving male soldiers.

The Amazon infantry, having started the destruction of the male forces, now
joined in the action to finish the job. Having discarded their shields and
bows respectively, the girls fell upon their male foes with their short,
stabbing swords.

I marvelled at their agility as slender young girls fought large, strong, male
opponents and invariably overcame the men with their speed and skill.
Powerful, muscular male warriors were cut down and slain by girls half their
size as the Amazon hellcats slaughtered our strongest young men by the
thousand.

Many hundreds died in the river as they tried to wade across. Water which
reached their thighs, and badly hampered the flight of the struggling men, was
no obstacle to horses. Girl riders road full tilt into the water after the
male soldiers, swords flashing in the morning sun as they cut down their prey,
until the river ran red with the lifeblood of butchered male warriors.

Our army was broken. Most of the powerful, virile young men who had set off to
war with such high hopes of victory, now lay dead on the battlefield,
decimated by the girl fighters they'd thought to enslave It was a massacre, a
total victory of women over men. Our army was no more.

The Amazons, horsewomen and foot soldiers alike, were now hunting down male
survivors individually. The girls showed no mercy. No man was allowed to
surrender. Men who had set off on this disastrous expedition with thoughts of
taking nubile young girls as the spoils of victory were now fleeing for their
lives.

A huge man ran towards my position. It was Bartok, the great ox of a man who
had boasted so loudly of what he'd do to show the Amazons how a real man
treated rebellious women. He was labouring, though he showed no signs of being
wounded in any way. Maybe he was just totally unfit, like the majority of our
mighty soldiers!

He was being pursued by a slip of a girl who looked no more than fifteen or
sixteen years old, a situation which would have been ludicrous, except that it
was happening a hundred times over on this day of female triumph.

Bartok seemed to realise that he was being overhauled by his nubile pursuer
and turned to fight. His massive chest heaved with the effort as, panting for
breath, the huge male warrior raised his two-handed sword to strike down the
girl who came at him with fearless confidence.

The sword never struck! Standing there. Legs apart, arms raised to hold his
sword above his head, the massive male was a most vulnerable target for a
lithe young girl fighter. She didn't even use her sword, but, instead, glided
forward and smashed her foot into the huge man's balls!

Bartok's mouth dropped open. His sword fell from his hands as he roared his
distress and doubled over, grasping his crotch as he fell to his knees. The
girl's knee caught him savagely under the chin as his body toppled towards
her, sending him sprawling to the ground, lying dazed and bewildered at her
feet, groaning with pain, all the fight knocked out of him by the pretty
little girl.

The Amazon stood over him, legs astride, her firm breasts heaving as a result
of her exertions. She wore the Amazon uniform one piece leather smock; a
simple garment, with no sleeves, which reached less than half way down her
smoothly tanned thighs. A wide leather belt held the garment in at her slender
waist, emphasising the gentle swell of her developing teenage hips. Her dark
brown hair was swept back from her pretty face and gathered into the shape of
the tail of a horse at the back of her head. Wide-eyed with a pert nose and
smiling lips, the girl looked so frail and feminine, and yet she'd just taken
down the largest, strongest man in the ninth cohort of the male army!

He stared up at the lithe young teenage girl who had beaten him. Shamefully,
the once mighty male warrior pleaded with the girl for mercy. Tears streamed
down his face as he begged for his life.

Disdainfully, the girl used her foot to turn Bartok fully onto his back until
he lay spread-eagled at her feet. Then she settled herself on the man's deep,
masculine chest and called out to a couple of other girl warriors to come and
watch.

"I've got a big one here!" she shouted. "He's crying! I'm going to strangle
him if I can! Give me a count of fifty!"

One of the girls said something which made the others laugh, then her sword
cut a few arcs, the man's clothing fell away and Bartok lay naked and
helpless, his magnificent male body wracked with the sobs of a mighty man
broken by a slip of a girl!

The teenage girl fastened her hands around Bartok's thick neck, her thumbs
pressing down on his Adam's apple as one of the other girls beat the time of
her counting with her arm.

She hadn't counted very far when she stopped and pointed. Bartok's cock had
risen into a massive erection. Incredible. He was being turned on by a girl
who was killing him! The girls loved it.

The teenager pressed her thumbs into the man's throat harder than ever.
Another girl kept counting, one eye on Bartok's heaving cock. The other girl
watched avidly for a few seconds, then slipped off her boot and began to nudge
Bartok's balls with her bare toes, causing his cock to rise even higher!

Bartok died under the hands of the lithe young teenage girl who had defeated
him in combat. As he died he came in a violent volcanic eruption of spurting
male milk which delighted the Amazon girls.

Contemptuously, they kicked the man's naked body, then
.................................

I felt the prick of the sword against the back of my neck as a soft, female
voice told me to freeze.

I froze in fear. I fervently hoped that the girl would recognise by the colour
of my tunic that I was not one of Zarof's warriors, but a mere slave, the
personal slave of the Prince himself!

But it was not that which saved me. As I watched the slender, shapely, young
Amazon girls fighting and slaughtering the mighty male warriors of the
Kingdom, I had experienced an excitement I'd never felt before. My whole being
shook with sexual arousal. I could barely breathe.

My cock throbbed in an enormous erection, an erection which I dared not touch
because I knew I'd immediately explode and interrupt the mesmerising, blood-
tingling sensations I was experiencing. The Amazon girls, in the reality of
their destruction of a male host twice the size of their own army, and their
individual victories over huge, powerfully muscled male opponents, were
exceeding my wildest fantasies of female domination over men.

I couldn't even remember getting down from my horse, taking off my slave tunic
and draping it over my mare's back while I leant back against her patient
body, stark naked, tense, straining, shivering, giddy with excitement as my
mind soaked up the images of gorgeous, graceful girls fighting against male
warriors twice their size and destroying the men in combat!

And now I was the captive of one of these girls who excited me so much! My
blood tingled!

"Get down on your knees, slave!" she ordered.

Through a raging rush of sexual joy at being both recognised as a slave and
being forced to act like one by a gorgeous girl, I knelt at her feet.

She was barely five foot tall and looked even younger than the girl who had
slain Bartok! Her figure was boyish, with small breasts and narrow hips, yet
everything was in perfect proportion, and her tunic was hitched up into her
belt to give her greater freedom of movement, exposing the full, glorious
silky skinned expanse of her beautifully shaped female legs in calf length
tight, leather boots.

The blade of her sword was covered in blood! The blood of the men she'd slain
that day. She was a killer with the face and body of an angel.

"You enjoy watching girls destroy men? There are many like you serving women
in our land, and now you will be my personal slave! Lie on your back and
spread your legs!"

I did as I was ordered by my new mistress. My cock towered skywards. I was
aching for relief.

She put her foot on my neck. I looked up at her standing over me, a slip of a
girl in a pose of total domination of a man. I could contain myself no longer.
My hand flew to my straining cock. Two jerks were enough to send me into the
paroxysms of the most amazingly ecstatic climax I've ever experienced. I'm
sure I momentarily passed out with pleasure.

It was the last time I was allowed to cum without permission.

My mind is full of images of that battle, of magnificently built, muscular men
being slain by slender young girls, of Bartok being strangled to death by a
sweet faced maiden and of myself being so easily enslaved by my mistress. And
my cock soars, and my mistress knees me in my balls, and my cock goes
momentarily limp as I go down at her feet, but then I have yet another mind
blowing memory of female domination over men to savour when I can!