Island Amazons

By? , altered by 1of4

They don't know their own strength.

They were standing knee-deep in the surf when I first saw them. Eight strapping girls dressed in nothing more substantial than a few strings of seashells and some jungle orchids. We stared at each other across the two hundred feet of water that separated us, and I don't know who looked more amazed-the girls or me.

"Hal!" I called. "Get up here quick!" He came up from below decks-my associate in the geological survey we were conducting on a contract basis for the Navy; Dr Harold L. Matthews, an energetic, red-faced man who looked more like a roustabout than the brilliant scientist he was. He did a double take when he saw the girls. "I'm dreaming." he said. "They can't he real."

We had dropped anchor at a little island the charts called Lahamoa, about halfway between the Marshalls and the Gilberts. We had seen no one, not even a Polynesian fisherman, during the six weeks our schooner had been skirting the string of atolls that led up to Lahamoa. As far as we knew, the island itself was uninhabited, except for monkeys, wild pigs and sea birds. But there they were: eight girls, apparently in their twenties, who made no attempt to conceal their near-nudity in the presence of a pair of strange men. Even native women will cover their breasts these days when strange men are about. And these weren't South Sea Islanders. In the group, I could pick out four blondes and a redhead.

"What do you make of them?" I said.

"I don't know," Hal grunted. "They're fine looking girls though, aren't they? Athletic as hell, judging from here."

Then the redhead said something and started running toward the schooner. The others came splashing after her. When the water reached their hips, they started swimming, cleaving through the waves like porpoises. We laughed and yelled encouragement. It didn't occur to either of us that they might be dangerous.

The redhead reached our bow and Hal threw her a line. She clambered up it, as agile as a monkey. A second later, she was dripping seawater on the deck. All she had on was a seashell necklace. She was as tall as Hal - and he was six feet two. I stepped forward, my hand out and a smile on my face. "Welcome aboard. It's not every day that we get a pretty girl like you to . . . "

And that was as far as I got. She hit me like a cannonball, her head jamming into my midriff. I went down. We rolled around the deck together. I was trying to get a grip on her wet body while she rained blows on my head and shoulders. I caught a glimpse of the other girls pouring over the deck, pulling Hal down. Then there was a stunning impact on the side of my head, and I went out.

When I came to, my head was hanging upside down and I felt a series of rhythmic jolts. I opened my eyes to see the jungle vegetation flashing by. I was being carried by one of the girls. She had me slung over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes. My weight - 178 pounds - didn't seem to bother her at all.

I started to struggle. The girl rapped me angrily on the rump and I subsided. By twisting my head, I could see the other girls running along beside us, their breasts and their shell jewelry leaping with every stride. Two of the girls were carrying Hal. It would take more than one - even an Amazon like these - to handle someone of his weight. After a while, my captor got tired and handed me over to another powerful female. I tried to indicate that I was capable of walking, but they shook me impatiently and I submitted.

A few minutes later we jogged into a clearing and Hal and I were dropped carelessly to the ground. There was a

group of huts made of corrugated tin -all battered and incredibly old. The girls hadn't made them. They'd been infants when these dilapidated dwellings were put up.

A girl came out of one of the huts. She was a dark-haired beauty with flashing eyes. She was completely nude - without even the shell necklaces the others wore, but there was a bright crimson flower tucked behind one ear. Her body was firm and muscular; what was supposed to be round and smooth was round and smooth. There was an air of strength and well being about the way she moved.

She spoke, and I got my first shock. "Them funny... "

This magnificent female had the high-pitched voice and the halting diction of a very small child. The others all started jabbering at once. They sounded like four-year-olds, and they had a four-year-old's command of the English language. It's a dream, I thought. They surrounded me - nine young giantesses, none of them under six feet. They positively glowed with health and vitality. And they sounded like babies. I shot a puzzled glance at Hal. He caught it and shrugged.

Then the girls were swarming over me, poking and jabbing, chattering with excited curiosity. My clothes seemed to fascinate them. One of them grabbed the fabric of my shirt, and it ripped as if it had been paper. The girl, a Nordic-looking blonde, stuck her tongue in the comer of her mouth, frowned and tore my shirt completely off my body.

At the sight of my hairy chest, they fell silent. One of them tentatively poked me with her forefinger. She seemed puzzled by the fact that I had no breasts. Then it came to me. None of them had ever seen a man before!

From the comer of my eye I could see Hal. He had gotten to his feet and was edging toward the jungle. One of the girls spotted him and brought him down with a flying tackle. Then four of the tanned giantesses went at him. They laughed and jabbered, poking and pinching his flesh.

After a while, they tired of their little game. They led us by the hand to the center of the clearing and fed us

mangoes, some coconut meat, and some kind of raw shellfish. They watched us, wide-eyed, as we ate. They seemed fascinated by everything we did. Then they led us to separate huts. I tried to get over to Hal, but two of the Amazonian females pushed me through the doorway. One of them left, and I was alone with the other one. It was the dark-haired girl with the red flower in her hair.

It was dim in the hut, but I looked around with some interest. There was a broken-down bed, some old chairs, and a table. A bookshelf stood against a wall. I picked up one of the books. It was covered with dust and half eaten away with mildew. I blew off the dust and looked at the title - as much of it as showed. It was "A Bell for Adano." It had been a best seller, I recalled, in 1946 - the year they tested the atom bombs at Bikini.

"No... no ... bad..." the girl said. Apparently I wasn't supposed to touch the book. I put it down and the girl relaxed.

"What's your name?" I said. She knitted her brows together, and I repeated the question slowly.

"Baba," she said proudly. "I Baba."

It could have been a contraction of Barbara. Someone, long ago, had given this savage beauty an English name. Had her parents been the occupants of this hut, the owner of the books? Outside the sun was dropping below the horizon. Baba urged me over to the dilapidated bed. I stretched out, waiting to see what she would do.

She yawned, and climbed in beside me. With the setting of the sun it had grown chilly. She snuggled against me for warmth. There seemed to be no sex involved in it - only a desire to get comfortable. Probably the girls slept in twos and threes when it was cold. There couldn't be any blankets or any other fabric left from 1946 - not with the jungle mildew at work.

She pressed her body tighter against mine. Perhaps I had no effect on her, but it would have taken a stone statue to fail to respond to the warm, firm body of a strapping young girl such as Baba. I began breathing faster, and I was aware that my member was beginning an uncontrollable erection.

As the air grew chillier, she pressed even closer to me, her body undulating slowly. I began a movement, to assume the usual position, but Baba pushed me back down and started mauling me. Her unusual strength was more evident than ever as she forced me to do her will. Once or twice I gasped with some sudden hurt in her rough treatment of me, but I believe that she was merely clumsy and overexcited rather than deliberately cruel. At the finish, I was bruised and exhausted.

Once, when I thought she was asleep, I attempted to escape outside, but she grabbed me and carried me bodily back to the bed. She shook me like a rag doll, and when I attempted to struggle, she hurled me across the room, to crash into the wall. I made no further attempts to escape, and curled up on the floor for a couple of hours of sleep.

The sun was streaming through the broken windows when a laughing, chattering group of girls poured into the hut and dragged me outside. Hal was already there, being fed more fruit and shellfish. His eyes were puffy, and there were nasty bruises on his jaw and cheekbone. I guessed that he had received the same treatment as I.

I edged close to him and began to question him. I had not particular fear of being overheard, because the girls obviously didn't understand a tenth of what we were saying.

"I know a little about medical pathology," Hal said. "Do you notice that bright look they all have in their eyes? And the texture of their fingernails. Those are signs of abnormal development."

"Abnormal development? What could account for that?"

"A pituitary imbalance, for one thing."

"But why should there be anything wrong with their pituitary glands?"

Hal looked thoughtful. 'Atomic radiation might do it. There were some studies made earlier this year on some birds - finches. Ornithologists noticed that their feathers had changed color too early in the season. They had their breeding colors at the wrong time of the year. It developed that the birds had flown through a cloud of fallout when they were migrating. Fallout from a Russian bomb test.

It was an intriguing theory. I told Hal of the book I had found in the hut. He nodded, and continued: "There must have been a small colony of American or British here in the Forties. When they fled the atom bomb tests in 1946, this island must have been in the path of the fallout. Probably the authorities didn't realize anyone was living here. The adults most likely died of radiation sickness. But the children were more resilient. They recovered. And their recovery would have been helped by their glandular imbalances. Besides boosting their sexual capacity, their new body chemistry made them big, strong, and hyperactive. That's why they're such Amazons."

"What happened to the male children?" I asked. "There must have been boys."

Hal grew solemn. "Girls mature faster than boys. When these girls reached their early teens, they would have been more developed than the boys would. The boys couldn't compete. You've already seen that these girls don't realize their own strength..."

I was horrified. "You mean they -they killed all the boys?"

"They might have. Over a period of time. A few lost tempers - things like that. "

"We've got to get out of here," I said. "It's only a matter of time until one of them gets mad enough to do something fatal. Like out of frustration. We can't possibly keep nine females happy."

Hal agreed that we had to escape. We had just finished talking over plans, when a couple of the girls became restless. They began fondling us. The others watched with interest, laughing and pointing at the way we were being used. Finally Hal and I were dragged into two separate huts. But then another girl entered my hut and tried to take me away from my captor. A vicious fight started. I cowered in a corner, watching.

The two girls rolled over and over on the floor, scratching and biting. Then the second girl was astride my captor, pinning her down and pounding her head on the floor. She was like a wild woman, her body shiny with perspiration, as she mauled and brutalized her opponent. At last the badly beaten girl had had enough. She crawled on her hands and knees out of the hut, crying pitifully. The victor knelt beside me and grabbed my wrist. She smiled seductively. I forced myself to smile back; dreading what was coming next. I didn't have to wait long...

_ _

By nightfall I had been overwhelmed by four of the girls, as if I were some sexual puppet. My body was livid with bruises, and I felt drained. But somehow I managed to stay awake after the last of the girls had finished with me and fallen asleep. I crept noiselessly to the beach and found Hal waiting. The schooner, riding at anchor, was a beautiful sight, and together, we waded out and plunged into the surf.

Suddenly there was a shriek of rage from the edge of the jungle. Four of the girls were there. They started running toward us. Hal and I swam as fast as we could, but the girls were faster We had covered no more than a few yards when I felt a powerful hand close around my ankle. I was dragged back to the beach like a caught fish.

The girls conferred in their high-pitched baby talk. Then one of them swam out to the schooner. She was halfway back to the beach when I realized what she had done. A tongue of flame was licking at the sail. In a few moments, the deck was burning. With tears in my eyes, I watched the schooner burn to the waterline. What was left of it sank with finality below the waves. The girls exchanged satisfied glances, then began pulling us along, back to the clearing where they lived.

It has been less than three weeks since that night. But to me it has seemed like three centuries. They are at me day and night. When I am too tired to perform any more, they become angry and beat me.

Last night, Hal died from the effects of one such beating. I'm sure the girl didn't intend to kill him. They just don't know their own strength, and they have no self-control. When they saw his body lying there, they were overcome with remorse. They dug a hole and buried him. But they are like children in an hour or two they had forgotten all about him. They were laughing and jabbering again. Two of them dragged me into a hut ... I'm at the point complete exhaustion ... Save me from this living sexual hell ... Save me before it's too late.. Please ... SAVE M