Episode XVII - Tatyana By Motif ATTENTION*ATTENTION*ATTENTION*ATTENTION*ATTENTION*ATTENTION*ATTENTION* This story contains any number of scenes depicting graphic violence, nudity, sex, impolite language, lesbianism, light s&m, and other elements which may cause undue stress to people of a sensitive nature. In addition, this particular episode contains a rather nasty murder. Consequently, this story should not, (and I can't stress this point too strongly,) *NOT* be viewed by minors or people who may be offended by the story elements outlined above. If you are reading this and either of the above conditions apply to you, please take my advice and move your mouse pointer up to the little box with the 'x' and click on it. OK? OK. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ ------------------------------------------------------------------------ ------------------------------------------------------------------------ --------- Episode XVII - Tatyana >From her hiding place behind an tall overgrown hedge Tatyana focused her binoculars on a seedy little house crouching dejectedly near the Arena's seldom used western gate. The young fighter stood stock-still, mesmerized by the most strikingly beautiful woman supervising the unloading of a truck which had just pulled up to the dilapidated structure. Unaware she was being watched, the auburn haired woman stood by the hovel's open door through which pairs of male slaves scurried, carrying plain wooden boxes from the truck. She wore a brown leather jacket draped over a plain white T-shirt that molded around the tight curves of her lean frame. Tan colored trousers covered her flaring hips and exquisitely long legs; tucked neatly into a sturdy pair of calf high work boots. Early morning light glinted on soft, feathery light brown hair that flowed past a gracefully curving neck to caress square, elegant shoulders. With a mental wrench Tatyana tore her gaze away from the gorgeous woman, refocusing on the boxes being moved into the house. Most were flat, oblong wooden crates, about three feet long and half that length wide. They were awkward enough to require two slaves to carry them and looked fairly heavy, but nothing else about them gave Tatyana a clue as to their contents. Whatever was in the crates, the young Shimmura warrior speculated, the Baruchs were certainly going out of their way to hide them. She'd been watching the run-down little house off and on; ever since she'd discovered the deed to the place on her last, disastrous visit to the Baruch family's main warehouse. Perpetually curious, she'd wondered at the time why the rival clan would own such an innocuous dump and decided to keep an eye on it when she had the time. Now, her patience and curiosity were paying off. As if possessing a will of their own, Tatyana's binoculars wandered back to the woman supervising the slaves unloading the truck. There was something about her that riveted the young fighter's attention; a familiar quality that she couldn't quite define. It wasn't just that she was attractive, Tatyana decided, although the woman's pale, heart shaped face radiated a mature beauty. But the way the auburn haired beauty moved with such confident authority, as if she were constantly aware of everything going on around her, fascinated Tatyana. The sound of the truck's door slamming snapped the broad shouldered fighter out of her reverie and she turned her binoculars on the woman who'd climbed down from the cab of the truck. Tatyana's upper lip automatically curled in a disdainful sneer, immediately recognizing the tall blonde warrior walking from the truck toward the woman waiting at the doorway. The blue denim coveralls Sandra wore did little to conceal her well- toned, athletic body. She stalked forward on strong, smoothly muscled legs; her bearing erect and proud, moving like a predator toward her quarry. However, her normally haughty expression seemed muted to Tatyana, as if she was reluctantly preparing herself to be deferential to the other woman. The two women spoke for awhile and Sandra did indeed appear to the watching young fighter that her old rival was taking orders from the other woman. Tatyana looked on, smiling at the discomfort evident on Sandra's severe featured face while the gorgeous brunette gestured at the doorway and handed the blonde fighter a clipboard. The tall young woman ducked into the little house, presumably to begin a survey of the contents, while the lovely brunette went back to supervising the half dozen slaves. Tatyana again marveled at the graceful economy with which she moved, her smallest gesture seemingly precisely controlled. Still, something nagged at the back of the young warrior's mind while she raptly watched this beautiful creature, and as the last of the boxes were carried into the small structure, Tatyana realized with a jolt what it was that bothered her. The woman moved just like Rhonda. Tatyana lowered her binoculars as the realization struck, her heart constricting painfully in her chest at the memory of the night she'd spent with lovely african amazon. Her mind wandered, reliving the time Rhonda had so unexpectedly rescued her from the women who'd caught her burgling the Baruch clan's main clearinghouse. After a terrifying chase through the Arena's dark streets, they'd lost their pursuers and hid in a nearby warehouse belonging to her own clan. Both warrior's were exhausted and high on adrenalin and suddenly the young Shimmura fighter found herself in the strong, capable arms of her rescuer. At first, Tatyana rationalized, she'd purposely seduced Rhonda to keep her from asking too many embarrassing questions. But soon after she'd snuck out of the warehouse, leaving her new lover in a thoroughly exhausted sleep, Tatyana found herself in the growing grip of an overwhelming attraction for the mature warrior. Ever since that evening, Tatyana found herself torn between the strong sense of duty she'd always felt to her family, and the equally strong yearning to be with the confident older warrior. Rhonda had literally appeared out of nowhere, Tatyana mused, saving her from her clan's enemies like something out of a old legend or fairy tale. But despite the longing she felt to be with the skillful fighter, in the final analysis Tatyana couldn't bring herself to involve Rhonda in her families vicious interclan rivalry. Reluctantly, the young warrior returned to the task at hand and brought the binoculars back up to her eyes. With the last of the crates unloaded, the slaves were climbing back into truck in which they'd arrived. Standing a few yards away from the truck, the lovely auburn haired woman was gazing vaguely off in the distance, as if lost in her own thoughts. Focusing on the mature Baruch woman, Tatyana again felt something itch at the back of her mind. This time, though, it wasn't the beautiful brunette she'd was watching that bothered her, but something else. A slight change in her surroundings that she couldn't identify, yet made her feel vaguely apprehensive, like an impending dental appointment. The young Shimmura warrior's small, slightly flattened nose twitched as she watched the woman turn, seemingly looking directly toward her hiding place. "She can't know I'm up here; can she?" Tatyana asked herself, unable to shake the feeling that the woman was looking directly at her. The unease she felt gradually strengthened, making her muscular frame tense unconsciously as the woman she was watching continued to stare in her direction. "What can she be looking at?" Tatyana worried, her wide mouth bent in a frown of concentration. A faint, musky-sweet fragrance made her nose twitch again and it dawned on the young fighter that the woman she'd been watching wasn't really looking directly at her. She was looking slightly beyond her. Tatyana dropped into a crouch and a heavy metal bar whizzed through the space where her head and been a split second before. Instantly, the agile young fighter twisted to one side, snapping a hard backwards kick up at an angle between her ambushers legs. The tall blonde woman's muscular frame shook from the impact and she doubled over with a high pitched shriek, agony creasing her angular face. Balanced on her hands, Tatyana spun deftly in a half circle, her leg sweeping around to smash a booted foot against the side of the caucasian fighter's lowered head, sending her stumbling to one side, her cry of pain cut off in mid- shriek. Rising smoothly to her feet, a savage grin split Tatyana's round face, seeing her former opponent sprawled face down on the ground. Scooping up the crowbar her ambusher had dropped, the broad shouldered amazon stepped closer to the Baruch warrior as she rolled onto her side, her hands clutching her crotch. "You wearing far too much perfume today, Sandra dear." Tatyana smiled, flipping the prone warrior onto her back with a well placed kick to her chest. With a short leap, Tatyana sat down hard on the stunned young woman's stomach, driving the air from her muscular frame with a whoosh and trapping Sandra's arms beneath her firm round buttocks. Gripping the crowbar at either end, Tatyana leaned forward and pressed it against the taller warrior's exposed throat. "Say." she said, a threatening smile belying her casual tone, "You wouldn't want to tell me what you've got in those boxes down there, would you?" Sandra glared up at the dark haired fighter's grinning face, her head ringing from the kick. After their arranged fight in the arena had ended so inconclusively, the proud Baruch warrior had desperately wanted another shot at her opponent and the opportunity take a measure of revenge against the woman who'd cost her a certain amount of prestige in the eyes of her matriarch. When her sharp eyed cousin had spotted the young Shimmura fighter watching them, Sandra was by turns alarmed and exultant. Even as their quarry watched the two Baruch warriors formed a plan, and Sandra had gleefully slipped out of the back of the house, quickly circling around toward their watchers position while Crystal stayed out front to keep her attention. An almost feverish anticipation had raced through the tall Baruch fighter as she crept up on her hated enemy. But now, having been so quickly subdued by her former adversary, her face burned with shame and frustration. Determined to die rather than answer Tatyana's questions, Sandra mutely shook her head. "Have it your way." Tatyana said shortly. With one hand she kept the pressure up on the writhing young woman's throat, while with the other she reached back awkwardly toward the long bladed knife hidden in her boot. Her hand just reached the lip of her boot when out of the corner of her eye Tatyana caught a glimpse of movement behind her. Before she could react, a heavy weight collided with the back of her head, sending her spinning down into an all consuming blackness. --------------------- Two voices raised in anger awoke the young warrior and, although the throbbing pain emanating from the back of her skull made it difficult to concentrate, she focused as well as she could on the voices. "As long as Alexis is in the hospital, I'm clan champion." the first voice said firmly. "And as long as I'm Diana's champion, you'd damn well better do as I say." Despite the pain from her recent head blow, the young warrior made a connection which had eluded her earlier. The woman she'd been watching was obviously Crystal, the Baruch matriarch's second eldest daughter. "Of course!" Tatyana thought, trying to raise a hand to slap herself on the forehead. "I don't care if you're the Grand Pooh-Bah of the Universe." the second voice asserted heatedly. "That little bitch belongs to me!" Alarm bells clamored in Tatyana's battered head as she found herself unable to move both her hands and feet. Cracking open one bleary eye, the young fighter had to wait a moment for her vision to clear before she could see the rope looped around each wrist, keeping them firmly tied to the rough wooden table she lay upon. The table apparently had at least six legs and her hands were tied to the center pair, while her feet were similarly lashed to the legs at the far end. "You're already in enough trouble as it is, cousin." the first voice said icily, "And if you don't want Diana to find out about all this, you'll shut up and do what you're told." Sudden fear jolted through Tatyana as she fully realized the vulnerable position she was in. Her boots had been removed, but otherwise she was still clad in the clothes she'd been wearing; light brown trousers and a long sleeved, white shirt. She was tied to a rather rickety wooden table, her hands at about waist level and her bare feet overhanging the far end. "You're in this too." the second voice said defensively. "That's right." replied the first voice calmly. "And I'm not going to let you screw up the whole operation like you did our little ambush today." Fighting against the panic welling up within her, Tatyana closed her eyes and willed herself to relax. Cautiously, she tested the bonds keeping her limbs immobile, slowly flexing and twisting her wrists and ankles, searching for the tinniest amount of slack in the ropes. "Who do you think..." the second voice began. A sharp crack echoed through the small room and Tatyana turned her head and peered at the two women standing across the room from her. Sandra stood against a stack of crates by the door, her hand raised to one rapidly reddening cheek, a mixture of anger and shock on her severe features. The beautiful brunette stood with her back to the bound young fighter, her hands balled into fists on her hips, evidently glaring up at her taller cousin. "Shut up, girl." Crystal ordered, her voice firm and iron hard. "We're going to wait for our friend to show up so we can move these things to the distribution points. Until then, you're not going to do a damn thing." Before the young blonde fighter could reply, she took a step forward, intimidatingly close to her rebellious cousin. Tension thickened the air in the small room and Crystal's voice was utterly calm, toneless but filled with unspoken threat as she said; "Do you understand?" Though the older Baruch woman had her back to her, Tatyana had a clear view of Sandra and she watched with interest at the play of emotions flickered across the athletic Baruch warrior's angular face. Sandra was clearly enraged, but at the same time her ice blue eyes shone with uncertainty and fear. Finally, the tall fighter slowly lowered her hand from her stinging cheek and, reluctantly, nodded. Another long moment passed with the two women frozen in their confrontational stance. Then, with no warning at all the lovely brown haired woman turned with a single smooth motion to face their captive. "Well, look who's awake." she said. Despite the suddenness with which her captor had confronted her, Tatyana felt a thrill at her first up close view of the woman. The first thing she noticed was Crystal's flawless ivory skin, smooth and soft looking as it flowed from broad, unlined forehead to narrow chin and on down over a long, elegant neck. Her eye's were beautiful backlit emeralds, tilted slightly upward above a well proportioned nose and mature, sensuous mouth with full lips the color of pale coral. Her expression was relaxed, her pose one of a woman accustomed to being in complete control. Crystal's moved with confident grace as she strode to within a few feet of the staring young woman. "I know you're not going to talk." she stated, her voice a soothing, mellifluous alto. "Honor of the clan and all that." Tatyana stopped herself in mid-nod, piqued to find herself agreeing with her captor. "Still, you look like an intelligent young woman." Crystal said, shrugging off her leather jacket as she spoke. "You must realize I'm going to make make you talk sooner or later." Tatyana's jaw clenched as she mentally clamped down on the icy feeling of dread growing in the pit of her stomach. "Oh well." Crystal sighed, seeing the cold expression on her captive's face. "Let's get on with it, then." Carefully folding her jacket, Crystal dropped it on the floor behind her and the young Shimmura warrior's eyes widened in puzzlement as her captor methodically unbuttoned her shirt. Despite herself, Tatyana looked on with interest as, completely unselfconsciously, the mature Baruch woman removed her shirt, folded it neatly, and dropped it on top of her jacket. She wore a plain, white cotton bra that kept her small but full breasts firmly in place on her chest. Smooth, milky white skin covered a lovely frame, tapering down to a small waist and firm, flat tummy. And yet, there was nothing even remotely provocative about the gorgeous woman's movements. Tatyana puzzled over her captor's seemingly indifferent attitude until with a sudden chill it dawned on the young fighter that Crystal wasn't trying to be provocative. She was just being tidy. --------------------- Crystal's left hand disappeared behind her back as she moved to the table where Tatyana lay, bound and shivering slightly. She looked down at the young woman, her face a cold, expressionless mask and brought her arm around to display a razor gleaming dully one smooth, elegant hand. "Be reasonable, girl." she said softly, persuasively. "You don't want me to do this." Fear and repulsion thrummed through Tatyana as she stared up at the coldly beautiful woman, making her quiver uncontrollably. Crystal's utter lack of emotion disturbed her almost as much as the three inches of sharp blue steel she held casually in her left hand. Unable to meet her captor's cool analytical stare, Tatyana focused her gaze on the door across the room from where Sandra stood, sullenly poking though the few items in her shoulder bag. Crystal lowered the razor until it hovered just above Tatyana's round cheek. "Don't you have a lover?" she asked, dragging the edge of the blade over the Tatyana's youthfully soft, light brown skin. "Or maybe a partner? Would she like you as much if you were missing, say, a nose?" Tatyana's jaw ached as she clenched her teeth, fighting against the terror that yammered in the back of her aching skull. She watched Sandra cast aside her bag and idly pick up one of her boots and place it upside-down against the bottom of her own foot, checking it for size. The young Baruch fighter gave a small start as Tatyana's long bladed knife fell out of the boot, dropping with a soft thump to the floor. "Or maybe an ear?" Crystal continued, drawing the razor with a whispering rasp over Tatyana's exposed right ear. Crystal brought her blade down and one by one began deftly slicing the buttons off her blouse until her broad, naked torso lay exposed to the cool late afternoon air. "Think about it, girl." her captor whispered in her ear. "Would your mate still want to make love to your scarred little body?" Unable to keep her gaze averted, Tatyana shifted her head and looked down at her heavy breasts, soft mounds leaning to either side of her broad chest. Her eye's widened in terror as she saw the blade descend, her gorgeous tormentor lightly tracing the circumference of her wide brown aureoles with the sharp corner of the razor. The terrified young fighter held her breath as the razor moved about her body in lazy, rasping swirls; gleaming as it's sharp edge gently caressed the soft, tender curves of her breasts and skimmed down the rows of light brown muscle that marched down her stomach. After a few, contemplative minutes Crystal drew her hand away and moved her razor up until it again hovered a above her captive's lightly sweating face. "Last chance." she murmured softly. Tatyana stared at the razor hanging suspended a few short inches above her face. Her soft blue eyes completely focused on her helpless victim, Crystal slowly lowered the sharp blade down toward the bound woman's face. The broad shouldered fighter lay still on the table, mesmerized by the length of blue steel growing larger and larger as it descended. It took a moment for Tatyana to realize that her tormentor had stopped lowering the razor. She glanced up and saw the brunette warrior's expression had abruptly changed from intense concentration to one of wide-eyed confusion. As Tatyana looked on in bewilderment, Crystal abruptly gave a small cough and dropped the razor with a clatter, blood flecking her soft, pale lips. The perfectly smooth, ivory skin of Crystal's broad brow suddenly creased, her lovely visage twisting in inexplicable agony. She placed a hand on the table to steady herself and coughed again; then stared down in utter confusion as more blood spotted her forearm. Crystal slowly turned around and Tatyana's own eyes widened even more as the cause of her captor's distress came into view; a small round puncture wound an inch of so above where her bra's white straps formed an X on her pale back. Crystal stared at the tall young woman standing before her, a mixture of agony and confusion suffusing her heart shaped face. "You st-stupid g- girl." she said in a stuttering, breathless gasp. "What...what are you doing!" Holding Tatyana's blood stained knife casually before her in one gloved hand, Sandra regarded the stricken woman, considering her reply to her cousin's question. "Why, I'm killing you, Crystal dear." she said simply, motioning with the dagger slightly to emphasize her point. The beautiful brunette shuddered as pain rippled through her body, making her stagger back against the table. One hand clasped to her chest, she coughed again, spitting up more blood. Finally, she gasped hoarsely; "Why?" Tatyana's sharp blue eye's sparkled mirthlessly and she barked a short, humorless laugh. "Power." she replied promptly. "Why else?" Crystal's chest began spasming as she found it harder and harder to draw a breath. With a weak, despairing cry she launched herself at her cousin in an awkward, graceless stagger, arms outstretched, hand curled into claws aimed at the tall young woman's neck. With a determined grimace on her angular face, Sandra took a short step forward and, with Tatyana's knife held firmly before her, impaled the charging woman with an upward thrust that entered just below her breastbone. The muscular warrior was forced back a step as the Crystal lurched into her, emitting a short, piercing shriek. The mortally wounded woman's hands groped at Sandra's shoulders and both women struggled to stay erect in a gruesome, shuffling dance. Tightening her grip on the knife, Sandra thrust the blade hard into her cousin's body, burying it up to the hilt. As Crystal's hands scrabbled weakly at her shoulders, Sandra gave the knife a sharp twist and blood gushed from the wound, covering her gloved hand with sticky redness. She released the knife and with a last shuddering heave, Crystal's arms sagged to her sides and she collapsed, dead before she hit the floor. Sandra's grim expression broadened into a genuine grin of pleasure as she gazed down at her cousin's inert form lying on the floor at her feet. "Well," she said softly to herself, "that worked out well." Tatyana lay utterly still on the table, frozen in horror at the cold blooded murder she'd just witnessed. An electric jolt of fear coursed through the bound young warrior as Sandra slowly raised her head and their eye's met, her ice blue eyes fixing on Tatyana's own staring wide brown eyes. "Oh goddess." Tatyana thought feverishly, unable to stop herself from trembling as the tall caucasian warrior approached. "She's going to kill me next." For a long tense moment the blonde amazon stared down at her vulnerable rival, perspiration beading on the her forehead and upper lip. Sometime during the short one sided fight, the zipper on the front of Sandra's coveralls had been dragged down, exposing a triangular stretch of tan skin which asped, staring angrily up at her tall enemy. "And your a murderer." Sandra replied. Her hand moved down Tatyana's quivering body, brushing her soft brown skin here and there, leaving sticky red swaths of blood. "I saw you kill my cousin." she smiled. "Pity I didn't get here in time to stop you." Hatred burned deep within the bound young fighter, her fear evaporating like water before the fire of her unbearably intense anger. Tatyana's eyes teared with frustration and she yanked at the ropes keeping her hands and feet tied to the table, yearning to wrap her hands around the grinning blonde woman's throat and throttle the grin from her smirking face. "There." Sandra announced, stepping back to survey her work. "That looks about right. And so attractive too." Tatyana writhed upon the badly constructed table, making it shake alarmingly. "I'll *kill* you!" she hissed at her chuckling tormentor as she strained to break the ropes keeping her tied down. "So sweet." Sandra laughed. "Maybe I'll visit you up at Sparnamore. Do you think they'll give you a cell next to that old bitch, Ms. Erika?" The tall fighter's taunting laugh broke off and her captive stopped struggling as the small door opened abruptly. Sandra looked back at the door and Tatyana caught a glimpse of the figure standing in the doorway, swathed in a voluminous white robe. Turning back to her captive, Sandra took a step forward and raised a fist. "Gotta go." she said lightly, landing a hard blow on the helpless young woman's temple. -------------------------- Tatyana awoke to a thundering headache that made her skull seem to throb in time with her pulse. Her strong limbs ached from their long confinement but she resisted the urge to pull against her bonds and lay still for a moment, senses straining for any hint of movement around her, until she was satisfied that no one occupied the small room with her. The young fighter experienced a moment of wild panic as she cautiously pried her eyes open to unrelieved blackness. "Goddess! I'm blind!" she screamed inwardly. After a moment, her bulging eyes adjusted to the dark and Tatyana realized night had fallen. Wondering how long she'd been unconscious, Tatyana about around the room, her heart still hammering in her chest. Craning her aching head, she could just discern the dim outline of the door across the room, but no sign of the crates that had formerly occupied the small house remained. "Damn it!" she spat, fighting back a wave of despair. She couldn't believe things had gone so disastrously wrong. Frustration built within the young fighter and she strained at her bonds, desperately wrenching her wrists and ankles back and forth, making the rickety table shake beneath her. Something clattered near the struggling young fighter's right thigh and she stopped her frantic writhing. Hope flared within her, remembering how Crystal's sharp razor had fallen from her hand after Sandra had viciously stabbed her in the back. Straining her right hand against it's bonds Tatyana groped for the weapon, but her fingertips encountered only rough wood. She carefully bucked her muscular young body again and the table shook and she heard the object rattle again. She extended her fingers again and winced as the tip of her forefinger brushed against the sharp edge of the razor. Sweat beading on her forehead, Tatyana narrowed her concentration and strained her right hand toward the razor, the ropes biting painfully into her wrist as she fought to stretch them. She lowered her trembling hand and her index finger touched the flat surface of the razor. Carefully, Tatyana inched the blade upward until finally she felt it's handle beneath her palm. "YES!" she shouted to the empty room. After a minute of anxious fumbling, Tatyana grasped the razors handle firmly and managed to extend the blade downward at an awkward angle until it's sharp edge lay against a length of rope. Her concentration again completely focus on her task, Tatyana began to slowly saw at the ropes. An eternity later, Tatyana's right hand jerked free from and a sob of relief escaped the young warrior's lips. She paused to shake some feeling back into her half numb arm then as quickly as she could cut away the ropes binding her left hand to the table. Tatyana sat up with a groan, her sturdy frame stiff from it's enforced immobility. A wave of dizziness swept through her, making her tremble so strongly she almost lost her grip on the razor. She allowed herself a few minutes rest until the shaking subsided, then leaned down and freed her feet. Pushing herself off the table, the muscular young amazon fell heavily to the hard dirt floor, her still numb legs refusing to support her. Tatyana's powerful frame trembled as she lay on the floor, drenched with perspiration. A wave of panic again swept through her already frayed nerves as she realized she didn't know how much time she had before Sandra returned with a troop of guards and have her arrested for Crystal's murder. Forcing her aching body into motion, Tatyana crawled slowly toward the dim outline of the door. Part way to her destination, her hands fell on something stiff and slick in her path and the young warrior jerked back, her quavering vision focusing on the pale cold form of Crystal's corpse, her own knife protruding at an angle from her lower chest. Tatyana's gorge rose in her throat and her entire body trembled and the terror yammering at the back of her mind like an angry dog slipped it's leash. She shot shakily to her feet and staggered forward blindly, tripping over the body of her dead captor and falling back to the floor with a hard thump. Scrambling again to her feet, her hand fell on a pile of fabric and she clutched it reflexively to her naked, blood stained chest as she rose and plunged toward the door. One broad shoulder banged heavily into the thin wooden door and Tatyana frantically fumbled at the simple latch. Fear threatening to overwhelm her senses, she finally jerked the door open and with a sob of relief threw herself into the moonlit darkness outside. A half dozen staggering yards from the dilapidated house, the exhausted young fighter fell to her knees and looked around dazedly. The cool autumnal wind made her sweat soaked skin feel clammy as she knelt and gulped the sweet night air. She gazed blankly around the quiet evening landscape, the pounding in her head combining with residual fear, making it difficult to think coherently. Looking down at the bundle she held clutched in one white knuckled hand, a wave of nausea swept through the young warrior, making her stomach roll sickeningly as she saw her hands gleaming redly in the moonlight, covered with the dead woman's blood. Averting her gaze, Tatyana closed her eyes and fought down the sick feeling roiling in her stomach and concentrated on steadying her breathing. When at last she felt a little calmer, Tatyana opened her eye's again and examined the bundle she held. Crystal's jacket lay like a mute accusation in her hands, it's soft brown leather gleaming darkly in the moonlight. "I didn't do it." she murmured to herself, her stomach again giving a sick lurch as she remembered the brutal murder. When at last the waves of sickness subsided a little, the young fighter rose shakily to her feet, pushing her battered, exhausted body in a ragged trot toward the nearest place of refuge she could think of. --------------------- The slender amazon's well muscled body shuddered and bucked wildly beneath the exquisite, heavy weight of the larger form laying atop her. Strong, callused fingers clutched her slave's tight, firm buttocks which tensed rhythmically in time with the thrust of his hips. The handsome, dark haired slave gradually increased the tempo, driving his achingly engorged member deeper and deeper into his writhing mistress even as he fought to contain the orgasm threatening to explode within him at any moment. His mistress' visage shone as she lean upward to lightly bite the muscle at the nape of her slave's neck, muffling a scream of pure pleasure, sweet fire racing through her sweat drenched frame. Flat stomachs slapped wetly together in an increasingly insistent rhythm as she surfed on waves of pulsing ecstasy while her slave strained to hold back his own climax. Rows of long red scratches adorned the shining bronze skin of the slaves muscular back as it flexed in time with the pumping of his hips. Unbearable tension swelled within the dark haired slave as he awaited his mistress' permission to release the orgasm building like a tidal wave in his groin. As the almost blinding waves of pleasure receded slightly within the slim blonde warrior's shuddering frame, a distant pounding intruded into her consciousness and she realized that someone had been hammering at the front door for some time now. "Stop, Enrique." she gasped out regretfully. But the handsome slave atop her continued his wonderful, driving rhythm, lost in his own world of expectant ecstasy. She fought back the urge to ignore whoever was at the door. "I said, Stop!" she yelled hoarsely. Pushing up hard against one broad shoulder, she flipped the surprised slave off her, sending him tumbling over the edge of the bed. Swinging herself to her feet, Lana stood and snatched a rumpled sheet off the bed, wrapping it around her flushed, sweat soaked body. She spared a glance at the gasping slave lying on his back on the floor, noting with an odd sort of satisfaction the confused frustration creasing his fine featured visage while his long, shining erect penis bobbed comically between his legs. "Take five, Enrique." she said absently, striding purposefully out of the bedroom. When he was sure his mistress was gone, Enrique's handsome face broke into an angry grimace of almost lethal intensity. "Bitch!" he spat softly, pounding a fist against a nearby bedpost. --------------------- Leaning heavily against the door frame, Tatyana stopped her insistent pounding upon hearing the door's lock clicking open and light spilled through the doorway, momentarily binding the exhausted young fighter. Her eyes adjusting to the bright light, a grateful sigh escaped Tatyana's bruised lips as she saw the Lana peering out at her. The mature warrior's short blonde wildly disarrayed hair lay plastered to her head with sweat. The wrinkled sheet hastily wound around her slender frame clung wetly to her in places and her pale skin shone from her recent exertions. "I've interrupted something." Tatyana thought muzzily. "What's happened to you?" Lana gasped, her gaze moving with increasing alarm from her former pupil's bruised, wan face to the blood stained shirt covering her deeply heaving chest. The young warrior opened her mouth to reply and took a step toward Lana when her eyes rolled back and she stumbled over the door step to collapse heavily into the older woman's arms. Gently, Lana lowered the unconscious dark haired fighter to the floor and, after a quick, expert examination, was relieved to find that little of the blood staining her chest and face was her own. She peeled back an eyelid, then ran her fingers carefully through Tatyana's mane of silky black hair, probing the surface of her skull for wounds and finding a couple of fairly large bumps. "Concussion." Lana muttered worriedly to herself. "Alana!" she called, turning toward the stairs, "Come down here a moment, will you? We've got company!" ------------------------------------------------------------------------ ---- Copyright 1998 - Wet Hen Productions