Posted by Ed on March 31, 2001 at 03:24:12:
This was my first story, posted under the name Skeebo for Diana's sentry-stripping story contest awhile back, and I just found it again. Its not as bad as I remember, so here it is:
Dead, Naked Sentries
Vara "silences" Omphale's girl guards and lays out their lovely nude corpses
Vara opened her eyes. She felt strange, and her head throbbed. It was
warm and she was lying down, a crude, brick ceiling was above her. She
realized that someone was on her, touching her. She looked down and saw
a girl between her legs. She was caressing her thighs and running her
hands over her bare feet. She apparently hadn't noticed she had awoken.
She recognized the girl, or at least, her clothing. She was an Ananayan
Amazon warrior, obvious by her red-stained leather loin-cloth and
brazier. Vara remembered now. She was sent by her own tribe to
infiltrate an Ananayan village, and weaken their defenses from the
inside before the invasion. She had skulked up to the edge . . .but
after that she couldn't remember. Obviously she had been ambushed and
had apparently been taken to their jail. The girl between her legs, by
her looks, was a jailer, and she was becoming intimately familiar with
her crotch now.
Her hands her above her head, manacled and attached to the wall behind
her. Carefully, she felt the chain that attached her manacles to the
wall. It was rusted, and flaked off in her hands. If she could give it
one hard pull . . Vara gathering her strength as the jailer girl moved
her hands up to her breasts. With a grunt, Vara yanked on the chain,
snapping the rusted chain like a dry twig. Before the jailer could grunt
in surprise, Vara's hands were around her neck. The jailer tried to jump
back, but Vara held firm, her fingers digging into her throat. The
jailer clutched at her hands, trying with all her might to pull the
fingers away, let the air flow. Vara was sitting up, her legs still
around the jailer. She wrapped them around the jailer's waist to keep
her steady and gradually pushed the girl's back to the ground, so that
Vara was sitting on top of her. The girl's struggle continued, her body
rocking under Vara, bucking wildly. Vara had to struggle to stay on top
of her, and hold on. Soon, the jailer was getting low on air. Her
struggles weakened, now only futilely clutching at her manacled wrists.
Vara thumped the back of her head into the dirt as she squeezed the
remnants of her life away. Her hands fell to her sides and her body
relaxed. She squeezed for a few more moments before slowly releasing the
girl's neck. She didn't move. She observed the jailer's body. She was
tan and lithe, and as Vara brushed her raven hair from her face, she saw
she was quite attractive. Had they been on different terms, she would
not have minded this girl's caress. Her hand ran down her neck to her
chest. She removed her upper clothing and relaxed on top of her. Dead
female bodies amused her, especially when they were the corpses of
attractive enemies.
As Vara was fondling the jailer's breasts, she heard a scratching
outside her cell. Quickly, she shut the jailer's eyes and arranged her
features to that of calm. She then sprawled out on the ground herself,
closing her eyes, clutching her throat and sticking her tongue out. She
heard footsteps approach her, then stop. A bare foot nudged her head.
She let it loosely turn to the side, but otherwise did nothing to
acknowledge it. She heard a laugh, and a girl's voice say "I know this
game! You and your dead friend here are my victims, and now I will have
you as I want you, eh?" She heard footsteps going toward the jailer,
then the sound of skin running across skin and gentle moaning. Vara
peaked. The new girl, a pleasing, buxom red-head, was on top of the
jailer's body, and passionately making love to it, oblivious to Vara,
and the fact that her lover was not acting. She waited until she was
fully engrossed, before silently creeping up. She had not lain down a
weapon, she must be a jailer too. Vara's wrists were still manacles,
bound by a foot-long chain of rustless metal. She crept behind the
lover, her arms extended, and the chain between her wrists taut. The
girl sat up, arching her back and thrusting her head high as she let out
a long sigh of ecstasy. With one lightning motion, the chain was wound
around her neck and pulled tight, cutting her sigh off into a surprised
grunt. Vara's arms strained as she pulled with all her strength. The
girl reeled, shocked by the unbearable pain. She put up a small fight.
Vara admired as her large breasts heaved unsuccessfully for air. Her
elbows in the air, she gripped the chain, squirming. Inevitably, she
began to swoon as her strength failed her. Vara smiled as she felt the
girl's body finally weaken and go limp, a sensation Vara adored. She
allowed the girl's body to fall on top of her dead lover. She admired
the sight of the two dead, naked girls, locked in eternal embrace. She
found the key to her manacles on a string around the red-head's neck.
She reluctantly abandoned the cuffs. They had served her well.
She clothed herself in the red-head's discarded clothing, though they
were too tight across her breasts. She chewed her lip in annoyance after
a search of the jail that, as traditional, the jailers had no weapons,
protection against just this sort of thing. Her goal was to find the
Ananayan High priestess, the woman-god of the tribe. She peaked outside
the jail door and saw two brick buildings, each looking about the same.
The first was closer to the jail, both buildings being removed form the
main area of the village. She waited until the coast was clear, before
skulking to the nearest building, not wanting to rely on her disguise.
She slipped inside and looked around. The air was warm and humid, and
she heard the sound of water. She peeked around the corner, seeing the
main room. It was circular and dark, lit only by a strangely glowing
pool in the center. Maybe the High Priestess really did have power. Vara
stepped inside for a closer look. She was startled by a girl, naked,
except for a towel around her waist. Vara composed herself as the girl
looked closely at her, her eyes narrowed. Vara smiled, but the girl only
looked more suspiciously at her. Vara panicked and decked her. She
dropped the towel and crashed to the ground. Vara had no time to gloat,
as the girl suddenly delivered a powerful spinning kick to the backs of
her ankles from the ground. The floor struck her as hard as the
recollection that the Ananayans were among the most potent martial
artists in the known world. The girl crouched naked before her,
considering her next move. Judging by the two bodies in the jail,
Ananayan training did not include grappling. Vara heaved her self at the
girl, colliding full force into her, and sending her sprawling
backwards. They landed, Vara on top of the girl, and the girl flat on
her back, her shoulders on the edge of the pool. The girl tried to push
her off her, but Vara was larger and stronger. The girl punched Vara's
jaw, hard. Vara spit blood as she grabbed at the girls face. She got her
hands underneath her chin as pushed her head violently below the water.
The girl kicked and twisted, but Vara braced herself against the girl's
smooth, naked body, her check pressed against her breast, her legs
intertwined with the girl's.
The girl's arms flapped wildly, sometimes throwing empty blows at Vara's
head and sometimes pulling at her hands. Vara's hands were locked
underneath her chin, and not one girl yet had ever broken her iron grip.
Her thrashing continued, wasting her air, and bringing the inevitable
closer. Vara could hear the girl's heartbeat, and as the girl slowly
died, she could hear it begin to falter. The girl weakened, her legs
jerking every now and again, her hands loosely holding Vara's own. Soon
Vara felt every muscle in the girls body relax, one by one, her hands
dropping off her wrists and splashing into the water. Her heart faltered
to a halt. Vara lay there for a few more moments, treasuring the feel of
the girls body against hers, before raising her head off the girl's
breast and looking at her. The girl was dead. She drew back and pulled
the body back, drawing her head out of the water. Her long brown hair
was wet, her eyes wide and staring, her mouth open, filled with water.
She ran her hands down the length of the girl's body, smiling. The
fruits of her labor. She pressed down firmly on the girls flat stomach,
watching water flow down her cheeks. She stripped off her scant clothing
and gathered the girl into her arms.
She slid into the warm water and brought her new plaything with her. She
held the girl close under water, leaving only their heads and shoulders
above water. She held the girls head upright, her breasts pressed
against her own, as she gazed into her staring, pain-filled eyes. She
lightly kissed her wet, smooth neck, as the door to the pool building
opened. A sentry walked in, a long, curved blade in her hand. She
approached and looked eyes with Vara, then glanced at the girl in her
arms. She smiled slowly and hefted her sword. Vara's blood ran cold. She
could not face an armed Ananayan with no weapon!
"You won't tell anyone will you?" The sentry said as she leaned her
sword against the wall. She slipped off her clothes, grabbed a brush,
and dove into the pool. Vara pushed the dead girl's lips against hers,
tilting her head from side to side, simulating an erotic affair between
two living Ananayans. The now unarmed guard politely turned her back as
she scrubbed her naked body. Vara released the girl, letting her float
at the surface and glided up behind the guard.
Slowly she approached, silently through the water, until she was within
arm's reach of her. The guard suddenly spun around, Vara's hands shot
back to her sides. The sentry pushed back her dark, wet hair and looked
back at the girl behind them. "If you're done with her, would you mind?"
She proffered the her brush.
Vara grinned. "I'm done with her." She took the brush and the guard
turned around again, pulling her wet hair away from her back. Vara
tossed the brush over her shoulder absently. She wrapped one arm around
the girl's shoulder, the other around the girls head. With one quick,
brutal motion, the girl's neck snapped like a dry twig. The girl's body
jolted, and with a husky runt, she sank beneath the water, out of Vara's
grasp. She felt the girl come to rest at her feet, her soles explored
the slick smoothness of the girls body. She ducked underneath, and
admired her. Her breasts buoyant underwater, her hair in a gently
rocking cloud about her head. She grabbed a bundle of it and pulled her
body to the surface. She walked over, grabbed the hair of the bather,
and pulled both bodies out of the water. She redressed, slipped the
sword between the cord of her loincloth and her hip, and regarded the
two corpses. The bath seemed a popular area, if she left them hear they
would be discovered soon. Since the alarm had not been sounded, she
guess the two lovebirds she left in the jail had not yet been
discovered. It was a good place. She gathered up the first girl's
cooling, wet body and ran it over to the jail. Her loose limbs and head
flailed wildly as she ran, but she was not seen. She dumped her on top
of the two dead lovers, who, not surprisingly, had not changed position.
She hustled back and gathered up the limp guard. Her naked body was
added to the collection. She smiled and admired the pile of dead, pretty
girls, all dead because of her.
The time had come to finish the job. The Ananayan queen must be slain
like the dog she is. She was to be butchered. Her hacked body was to
demoralize the army. She tested the lade of her sword. Suddenly, a sharp
horn blast jolted her. She cut herself on the sword as she heard the
sound of people running. But that was not the sound of alarm! She peeked
her head out, and saw every Ananayan warrior gather about in a circle.
She slipped out of the jail and locked the door, then walked over to the
crowd. Vara was uneasy amid so many enemies, but her cover was not
blown, no one was paying attention to her. All eyes were on a woman,
tall and majestic, who strode out into the middle of the crowd. She was
dressed similarly to the others, but something told Vara that she was
different. As she began to speak, Vara knew that this was Omphale, her
target. She spoke praises of the Ananayan tribe and promised the death
of their enemies. Vara paid no attention, staring at her, memorizing her
lithe body. Omphale finished her speech and was met by a resounding
cheer. Omphale went back to her house, and a large Ananayan began
delegating guard duties. Vara volunteered for the queen's guard, which
she received, along with an athletic brunette and a red-head.
Vara stood in front of Omphale's door, along with the red-head. She
fingered her sword at her hip and glanced at the girl beside her
constantly. How would she kill her? The brunette circled the building,
she passed every few minutes. Suddenly the red-head turned to her.
"I'll be back." She said, and walked off into the shadows. The
brunette passed, and Vara waited for her to pass where the red-head had
disappeared as well. Vara drew her sword and stalked up to the shadows.
As she neared, she saw the red-head squatting in the shadows, her back
toward her. She approached to arm's reach, deathly silent. She tensed
and struck, her open hand reaching around and lifting the girl's chin,
the sword whipping around and gliding it's razor sharp edge along the
girl's exposed throat. A spasm went through the sentry's body, Vara's
off hand went up to clasp the guard's mouth. Another spasm rocked her
body, then she was still. Something cold and hard touched her leg. Vara
looked down and saw it was the guard's knife. Vara took it as she laid
her out, hid her in the shadows, and quickly returned to her post. Just
as she had slid her bloody (!) sword through her loincloth and hide the
blade in her hand, the brunette passed. It was to be her last pass. She
went by without reaction and began walked toward the red-head's resting
place. Silently, Vara followed her, her foot touching earth as the
guard's did. Slowly, she gained on her, undetectably. As she gained, she
admired the brunette's bare back. She decided she would like to add
something to it, perhaps a foot of metal. Just as she neared arm's
reach, that joyful distance of limitless opportunity, the guard stopped,
her head cocked.
Vara gave her no time. She estimated her lung and plunged the blade into
her back to the hilt. The guard's back arched as the metal inserted into
her body, trying to cry out, but choked by blood. She hovered there for
a second, clutching her throat, then collapsed. Vara wrapped her arm
around the guard's waist, catching her before she fell. She took her
back to the shadows and looked at her prize. Her upper body pressed
against Vara's, her back arched, bending backwards, her arms dangling,
her head thrown back, her hair almost touching the ground. A trickle of
blood ran from the corner of her mouth. Vara looked around, She found a
small alcove a way's off and decided it was the best place to deposit
these two dead lovelies. She dropped the brunette and wiped her weapons
clean, then slipped the knife where the sword had been. The sword was
too cumbersome, the dagger was the preferable assassin's weapon.
She grabbed the brunette's ankles, taking a moment to admire her bare
feet, before dragging her to the alcove. She dropped her legs and looked
at the corpse. Well, the last four corpses were naked, might as well
keep with the trend. She cut off the guard's clothing and admired her
nakedness. She took a moment to lick and fondle one of her breasts,
before going back for the red-head. She slipped her arms under her
armpits and dragged her back as well. She tossed her atop the brunette,
and saw her loincloth was still around her ankles. She removed it
completely and tore off the confines of her breasts. She smiled as she
took in the sight. Two more guards, slain, and naked as babes.
The time had come to finish it. She walked calmly back to the door
of Omphale's house. She looked around, making sure no one was watching.
She could here groaning and sighing coming from inside. Perfect! She
slowly twisted the knob and peek in. She saw Omphale siting on top of a
girl on a luxurious bed. Another girl was lying beside them. Omphale's
back was toward her, she recognized her by the long, dark, wavy hair
cascading down her back. The other two girls were blonde and pale. They
were young, no more than eighteen, and were not Amazons, of any tribe.
They were probably just farm girls, and twins, as it seemed. Vara looked
back to Omphale, she was completely oblivious. This was an opportunity
too good to pass up. Perhaps she could take her alive, and bring her
back as a prisoner! Imagine, an Ananayan queen, prisoner of the Brotogan
tribe! Vara made up her mind. She rushed into the room, as silently as
she could, but quickly as possible. Omphale, her hands caressing the
breasts of the girl beneath her, glanced over her shoulder an instant
too late. Vara took up her head and hurled her against the wall beside
them. Omphale's head cracked against the wall. She slid slowly down it,
out cold.
With one hand, she plunged her dagger into the farm girl's stomach that
had been beneath Omphale. She gagged and clutched it, unable to make a
sound. The other girl opened her mouth wide. Vara's other hand struck
like a serpent , gripping the girl's neck, and cutting off her scream.
She squeezed with all her might, the girls silent scream turned into a
silent cry of pain. With her first hand, Vara found the shoulder of the
stabbed girl. She wrapped her arm around her head and jerked. A wet
crack was audible. The girl grunted and slide to the bed. Her attention
now undivided, Vara pushed the other blonde girl to the bed, squeezing
her neck with all her strength. The girl had no combat training at all,
she was frail compared to Vara. She feebly grasped Vara's wrist as her
blue eyes pleaded with her. Tears streamed down her face and she gagged
for breath. Vara coldly denied them. She watched the poor girl struggle
until her features relaxed to repose. Her eyes and mouth shut, her hands
fell away. Confident the girl was now dead, she released her neck.
Vara looked back to where Omphale had fallen. She was not there.
Suddenly, a terrific pain smashed into her head, blinding her. She lost
all feeling, loosing consciousness. Or so Omphale thought. Vara clung to
consciousness by a small thread, barely making out what Omphale was
saying.
" . . . my pretty girl. You forget we Ananayans are of hardier
stock then you Brotogans. You have killed my playthings, though you are
an acceptable replacement." Vara could feel her breasts were exposed,
and a hand was running across them, pinching her nipples painfully. A
cold blade was pressed to her neck. Omphale was not under cautious. Vara
could feel she was still on the bed. One hand rested on her stomach, the
other on smooth skin, but not her own. Vara realized it was the pale
thigh of farm girl whose neck she had broken. Slowly, still feigning
unconsciousness, she slide her hand up the girls smooth thigh, passed
the neatly trimmed down between her legs, and up her stomach until she
reached the handle of her knife. She had to be rid of the blade from
her neck, or any strike would cause her death. Careful to not visibly
tense beforehand, she grabbed the handle and whipped the blade around,
deflecting the blade and rolling away to safety. Omphale gave a cry of
surprise, but was ready when Vara stood. She was beside a sword rack,
and she took an Ananayan blade, curved at the end and with one sharpened
edge. It was balanced strangely, but Vara knew she could manage. She
cursed herself for being stupid enough to think she could take Omphale
alive.
"Feeble girl!" Omphale snarled, "I would have had you as my
concubine. You cannot imagine the pleasures you would have briefly
experienced. It matters not, your body is pleasing whether or not it
draws breath. Come, let up finish this!"
They engaged, their blades ringing as they struck and parried.
Omphale used strangely circular lines of attack. It was fairly weak on
attack, but Vara didn't know how she could slip inside her defenses,
with her own straight, direct, line training. Vara was never good at
defense, and Omphale had managed to nick her twice, once on the wrist,
the other on her thigh. Vara was beginning to get angry, and when that
happened, Amazon's tended to die, horribly. Omphale grinned as she
sensed the melee going in her favor.
"Drop your sword now my girl, and I will let you join my fair-
haired farm girls painlessly."
Vara snarled wordlessly, reeling back for a mighty blow, hopelessly
enraged. Omphale smiled triumphantly, and lunged forward for the
expected finishing heart stab. Vara was not so enraged as she let on,
she sidestepped the blow, merely getting her side cut, and sending her
own blade whistling through the air, piercing her below her left breast
and sliding easily between her ribs. Omphale gasped and let her sword
drop from her nerveless fingers. Vara walked up to her, looking into her
dark eyes, knowing that Omphale saw only her own death. Vara pushed her
to the bed, and for the first time noticed that she had redressed while
Vara had feigned unconsciousness. Omphale clutched her bleeding wound
and breathed raggedly.
"You have done me the pleasure of undressing me, and I will do the
same for you Omphale." Vara slipped Omphale's loincloth down her legs,
appreciating Omphale's curves. Her hand went up to her breasts and
ripped of their covering, letting her breasts spring forth from
confinement, in all their glory. Vara sighed as her eyes took in
Omphale's naked body. She laid down on top of her, her legs intertwining
with Omphale's. Her hands slide up her body, one stopping at the hand
that covered her wound, the other stopping at her breasts. She looked
into Omphale's eyes. They were glazed, unfocused. She was too weak to
push her off of her. Vara leaned down and began Kissing and sucking
Omphale's lips. Between kisses she said:
"I want you to know, Omphale, that you are about to die. Even as we
speak, my tribe's soldier's prepare to attack your city. When we
slaughter your people, I will display your dead body to dishearten your
own warriors. When we are done, I will take you to my own camp, where I
will ravage and violate your body until I can stand it no more. And
finally, I will hang your corpse at the gate of our village, so that all
will know the price of warring with the Brotogans." Omphale's breathing
became more erratic. As Vara kissed and sucked at her sweet lips, she
breathed in the dying breaths of Omphale. She pulled the dead farm girl
that she had strangled towards her, and pressed her naked body against
Omphale's. "Rest beside your future Omphale. Now hurry up. Die!" With
that, Vara pressed Omphale's hand that clutched her wound, grinding her
own palm into it. She pressed down on Omphale's stomach hard, not
letting her breath in. She barely had the strength to grit her teeth in
pain. Soon Omphale's jaw relaxed, her eyes rolled back. Vara could feel
the queen's body go limp beneath her. With one, final, sexual sigh,
Omphale died in Vara's arms. Vara drew back and looked at Omphale. Her
hand shook as she touched her neck. She found no pulse, Omphale was
dead. Omphale was DEAD! She, Vara, had killed Omphale! She let out a
whoop of joy.
She jumped up and opened the door. The village plaza had turned into a
battle ground. Ananayans and Brotogans fought desperately with swords
and spears. Vara hastened back to Omphale, lifting her still form into
her arms. She ran outside and stood triumphantly in front of Omphale's
house. She lifted the dead queen above her head, letting out a piercing
Brotogan war cry. One by one, Ananayan and Brotogan alike turned to look
at Vara and the limp body of the Ananayan queen she held above her. A
cheer swept through the sea of women. The Brotogans redoubled their
efforts against the now disheartened Ananayans. Vara cast the corpse to
the ground, took up a spear, and joined the throng. The Ananayans were
being slaughtered. Everywhere you looked, the a red-clothed girl was
being stabbed in the heart, her stomach slashed, or, like the young girl
in front of Vara, being impaled in the stomach. In a few minutes, all
resistance was ground to a halt. The ground was littered with the bloody
bodies of female warriors. They lay in heaps, their weapons beside them,
their heads resting on the bodies of their comrades. A cheer rang out in
victory, and then a separate one rang out in praise of Vara. Vara bowed
modestly.
It was decided that Vara would lead the trip home, with a train of
horses carrying her victories. The first was the raven-haired jailer,
whom she had strangled as she made love to her. The second was the red-
haired jailer, buxom, and garroted with Vara's own manacles. Behind her
the young girl from the bath. Her hair still wet from the water that had
caused her premature demise. Next was the guard that had mistaken Vara
for an Ananayan bather. Her neck bounced in odd directions as the horse
walked, broken. Behind her was the red-haired sentry from Omphale's
house. Her throat slit, a trickle of urine still running down her thigh.
Next was the dark-haired sentry, stabbed in the back, her red slips
rosier by the blood that ran from her mouth. Behind her, the two farm
girls, pale, blonde, their necks broken and squeezed, and of course, on
Vara's own horse, the body of Omphale lay across her saddle. Vara's
hands joyfully explored her beautiful body as they made the long trip
home.