Marcos Panthi had a problem, not a serious or immediate crisis, but a definite situation in need of some kind of reconsideration.

He was a knight in foreign lands well to the west of his home territory.

He was dark haired with short curls and deep dark pools of eyes, many people never noticed there were no whites to them at all. His weathered skin gave him the appearance of being from the southern area of the Menthino. Tall and muscular he had a gangly look about him, but moved with the fluid grace of a long time ranger.

He didn’t appear to be a knight, his armor was beyond ‘minimal’ consisting of single hand sized plates sewn into soft, near skintight Safi leather that covered his upper and lower arms and legs, as well as half cut pieces for the top of his hands and feet. The leather was dyed black covering his entire body below the eyes and matched with only slightly stiffer leather boots split at the toe.

Over this was a sleeveless hooded black robe whose openings on the sides extended to the bottom just above the knees. Most people outside of Menthino would think him an assassin by his garb, but assassins cover themselves with normal clothes to blend in. The clothes and armor were actually the all black of the Menthino light Infantry. Most knights and officers in the light infantry usually at the very least wore Calvary armor for protection but Marcos was unique and understood better than most the spirit of light Infantry.

If Marcos had had foresight, he would have opted for a light grey robe instead of black. If he went any further north into the mountainous highlands even now in the heat of summer there would be enough snow to make hiding very difficult.

Nevertheless, it wasn’t time to worry about that, at the moment he was tracking prey or to be precise a band of ‘Amazons’ who he was paid to kill or drive off. He didn’t know how many, but about half a dozen is what the tracks and his senses told him. He had been forced to move in the early morning hours to track the elusive band, since they moved in the very dead of night.

Now with the sun just about to come up he was brought up short. Just over the ridge he was nearly atop was the bands campsite that as yet he hadn’t seen before. A finger jutted off the ridgeline for a short quarter mile stretch. It was almost unnaturally flat and completely snow free. It was large enough for hundreds to fit upon and was covered in various sized rocks with bald patches showing obvious frequent use.

At the moment a single barbarian woman was there idly sitting with a fire dug into the ground letting her smoke rise, obviously she was confident. However, that was also the problem, the rest of the group was gone, and Marcos could only be fairly sure they weren’t already behind him.

Marcos had been following this group for about two days from a requested favor by the independent city-state of Osmuun. The city sat near the western border of Menthino in the south and its only claim to fame was a decent working river dock deep and safe enough for ocean trade. He caught up to them three days north of the city in dense woods where hamlets and villages quietly farmed the summer harvest. The band had left these populated areas for the northeastern mountainous corridor yesterday. If they continued, Marcos would be tracking over a glacier and steep-walled valleys in these highlands until they came out of the mountains to the river valley of the fertile Ort, the wide fast boundary river between Astrokos and Menthino.

If this woman was any indication then this band must be confident, and unaware of him, to be hunting for food before entering these dangerous wilds.

Plenty of old creatures lived in these mountains from rock ogres to mountain elves, drow, minor dragons, and demon forms all scattered in pockets. The corridor is the only ‘safe’ route from the independent lands south and west of Menthino to the Ort since it skirted the mountains and was unfortunately quite barren. Stopping this group before they reached the river to commence their adulations would save time, however the corridor could be an excellent kill zone if and only if he could get ahead of them.

Amazons for most countries are a problem.

When the Astrokos Empire controlling all the lands fell, it really stemmed from problems with its women. The Empire was a paternal society that compounded the problems of sexes by fostering an extreme chauvinist bias against any feminine or ‘weak’ elements. Women fled to the wilderness from the society creating a sub-culture of ‘Amazons’ that was constantly persecuted. When a new god came to the world, it brought a new religion celebrating femininity, death, and fertility. Instant social chaos arose throughout the Empire.

The troublesome barbarian Amazons, tall muscular grey-eyed silver haired pale northerners, who ran into the wilderness so many years ago, became the refuge of the ‘Priestesses’ when the followers of the Empire’s patron god Minun, the deity of power and chaos, persecuted them.

The enclaves and moving temples these ‘Sisters’ carved out of the wilderness under constant pressures and attacks had the weight of half the population secretly behind them.

Religious sites at rivers and shores where women bathe and worship the Goddess at the end of their cycle slowly became widespread in all lands. Another social response triggered was the female pirate, women seeking asylum or safety made their way to the shores and disappeared with ships crewed entirely by women. From within the Empire grinded to a halt as every waterway leached its population, spread discord into the homes, and discontent into the streets.

Nobody knows when the Empire really fell. The northern lands are still called Astrokos to this day. Astrokos still erects self-serving stone and bronze monuments proclaiming its eternal power and glory.

Now the goddess ‘Dark Mother’ brought forth so long ago rules the world. She rules it alone as a goddess of death. She ruthlessly pushed aside followers of other gods, and sent her own champion after their champions and children of any new gods until there was no more but only her and her children.

For humans she is the embodiment of war, violence, fertility, maternity, and a death that seeps away. In the northland, she is simply prime evil. To the night creatures, she is worshipped as the ‘Night Mother’.

In Marcos’ homeland of Menthino, privileged nobility worship the Dark Mother openly in temples more directed to her death aspect. Normally these are infested with assassins who are allowed rest for the simple responsibility of ‘serving’ the crown and collecting secrets. In the capital, secretive temples focused on her fertility and maternal aspects were built over fresh flowing supplies of water. Guarded by amazons and presided over by priestesses the temples did the job of keeping the faith alive in the old-fashion way among all women by celebrating the menses, birth, and womanhood.

Amazons are a problem like any living weapon that outlived whatever original purpose it could have had. Some are good for the population; attacking criminals, and working for bounty usually, they are ‘Warrioresses’. ‘Huntresses’ fulfill a completely different role. They hunt for worthy males who will breed strong daughters. These women surround and attack travelers in one-woman ambushes either forcing a fight or ‘herding’ them to where all the women can attack. The purpose is testing a Huntress’ honor repeatedly from the weakest to strongest in the group until the male is brought down and harvested.

Men rarely return and all too often, the Huntresses take away the bodyguards leaving the old and weak or any women they find. Castration and, or death on a lonely road is an easy result of failing to prove worthy of the encounter. However if a man does survive the contest of strength he is drugged with powder through the skin to raise his virility, and potions that make him much more sensitive. Then men are ‘forced’ to inseminate the Huntress who made the capture. If the male can reasonably impress the group, a lifetime of sexual slavery at a remote temple enclave after ritual blinding is his new future. Villagers do not usually have the problem of bandits AND Amazons.

However, where the band Marcos is after went Goddess only knows.

2****************************************

Kaarthen the Huntress felt the strain of keeping up on the hunt so soon after delivering birth. The enclave sisters had wanted her to stay and rest. She could never admit it, but being denied holding the beautiful baby boy she had made forced her to seek the familiar as she tried to move on and forget.

Now after giving up 5 years seniority just to get away she was with a random group of rather amateur and petty Huntresses who knew nothing of her. She was unable to sleep or close her eyes without his face creeping up.

She was despised now for being the band’s weakness. The feelings of awkwardness that played with her mind at the enclave where she meditated and rested for birth stayed with her. Now she was sleepless for almost a week and feeling watched. The Huntress leader Caris, who was hardly any good, had left her behind to search the area for food.

Kaarthen was not familiar with the area but felt the wooded areas to the south where they just came from would have been easier hunting. She was ignored when she tried to give advice and snarky comments about whether she could make it up the mountains with her own weight were made. Making tea was her solace. She had grown fond of what the priestesses had served in the enclave and it helped focus the mind from her leaking throbbing breasts and mourning heart.

By nightfall, Marcos was beyond agitated. After staying up nearly two days straight worrying about Amazons sneaking up on him he concluded that the lone female was obviously weak somehow, and that the group still had not returned. His mind knew that there must be others but moving around he noticed no sign or tracks in the rocky snowless hill. He was tempted to ask this one but a nagging suspicion told him she had been abandoned. The sun was to set in these mountains soon. The female he was observing was fidgeting in apparently troubled sleep. Marcos crept forward into the attack.

Creeping along over the top of the ridge to avoid being ‘sky lined’ and coming down the steep wind face Marcos was able to roll and slither along. He reached the flatter landing and continued once he got his feet under himself. With no ability to get back easily, he was so far committed to some kind of action; with Amazons it was a mixed bag if you could reach them from a position of strength. So not knowing if she could be reasoned with, he moved from rock to rock until he could slink over smaller noisier pebbles to bald patches.

Kaarthen opened her eyes her head hurt and her temple throbbed but she felt oddly rested. The strong sun warmed her despite the elevation and patches of snow visible. Trying to sit up she realized her arms were tied. Her arms were behind her and from the feel of it; her elbows and wrists were bound. She was also on a fairly steep incline so this was definitely not, where she ought to be. Nearing panic with visions of ogres lighting cauldrons or sisters raped by demons she searched wildly with her eyes, and then moved her head in jerks that really just made the pain worse. She was on the ridge still though where she did not know. The area was covered in brown stumpy foot tall grass that was coarse. Large weather-worn stones protruded, and around her snow stuck in the creases of the hill. Kaarthen spotted movement overhead.

“A snake!? No feet, a sideways foot, up the hill.” She thought.

Rolling over to her side, the pain eased in her head. She saw a man in black more than a pace up sitting and drinking from a waterskin before making it disappear in his shapeless overshirt. He turned and stared at her with the examining eye of an inspector.

He was very dark aside from the black he wore his dark hair and expressionless eyes were enough give her an alien cold shiver in her spine. He shifted his weight from foot to foot and stood, leaning close.

“You…” He paused to clear his throat and used a finger to pull the leather from his mouth. “You were left you know, your sisters haven’t returned all night for you.” His voice was low enough to be above a mumble, but there was callousness there still.

Kaarthen felt suddenly tired like the weight of the world left and suddenly came back down on her shoulders. Marcos watched in interest, he had felt tired too until he just watched this Amazon pass out on him.

“Quite curious, she must be pretty brave to pull this stunt, I’m not that scary.”

Marcos eased back and stared trying to see if she was doing a marvelous job of faking. He watched her breath. Bound as she was, her breasts slowly swelled and contracted. He lowered himself down onto his knees to look at her and he had to admit she was as beautiful as any Amazon he had seen before. Her limbs were all heavily muscled, but there was a hard to define softness about this one. She was nearly his height, if he had to guess six and a half feet. Like him, she was visibly lean. However, her body was curvier, which made her seem wider and heavier.

Her bright silver hair had black streaks mostly in back. The tip of an elven ear poked out of her straight hair. She had the broader shoulders and long torso, arms, and legs of an Amazon. Her hips were smaller in proportion but still wide enough for the obviously feminine flare. Her ass was compact hard and muscular. The bubbled ass made her thighs look bigger and her waist look smaller, her loincloth rode low on her hips offering a great views only covering the bottom half of her cheeks. Her thighs were wide and muscular and had scars; her thick calves were very well-shaped. Her breasts were much larger than he was used to seeing on an Amazon, they were the size of her head at least and that was without overhanging sag. They simply looked like larger versions of smaller breasts. The aureole was less than palm sized, puffy, and pale with slightly darkened rings and inverted nipples.

Amazons unlike priestesses famously wear little clothes. This one had a rather small loincloth that was larger in the back for sitting. She also wore a decorated circular mantle made of hide atop her shoulders; it reached almost to her pale nipples the way she was lying. When he had grabbed her, she also wore a large cloth under the hide wrapped around her chest but Marcos had shredded it to bind her. He eased forward so he could keep her hands in sight better this way he told himself. He leaned in squatting into the slope with his right knee on the ground and the other over her body. He removed the glove of his left hand and put it in his robe then thinking to keep weapons away from her he pulled it over his head an dropped it one arms distance on the other side of his body from her. He held his hand out checking her breath. In the back of his mind, he knew it was stupid to provoke her like this but the other half was curious.

‘Was she faking? It maybe adolescent but how far would he let her go?’

He paused pulling his hand back almost deciding. Then he dropped it onto her breast.

‘Fuck it right? At least she won’t expect me to be a gentleman when she wakes’”

The side of the breast felt warm and rolling it in his had it felt taut, almost harder than what he’d expected, but then again it had been a while. He continued and used both hands to play with the top breast hefting, wobbling, tugging, and jiggling its weighty mass. He slid a whole hand under it. His hand, outstretched with his finger tips’ touching her chest, was covered by her warm heavy mammary past his wrist, half way to his elbow.

Pulling his left hand around him felt the moisture of her milk for the first time. He slid his knees down lower and lowered his weight onto her thighs. Without even debating it in his mind, he raised the teat and suckled the nipple. He heard her sigh when he sucked the nipple out into his mouth but felt no tension in her body. The hot milk in his mouth was delicious and he could feel the tension leave her breast in both hands as he drank by the mouthful. Marcos noticed her arching her back and allowed her to roll over onto her back.

He straddled her now completely, keeping his feet in between her thighs with his toes pointing down. His right hand moved up to her neck not in a choking grip but reversed to hold her restrained. He did not want to be surprised. The flow of milk did not seem to stop or slow and he realized she of course must not have nursed in a while. The more he drank the more he wanted. Marcos then felt her thighs squeezing rhythmically trying to get back together.

He realized if she wasn’t awake yet, she was going to be soon. Straightening up he fumbled with his buttoned fly. The buttons were hard as ever to work when handled in a rush with his thick 10 and a healthy half-inch cock taking up all the slack. Finally freeing a third button, he crouched rubbing his sensitive leaking head onto her belly. Her body was so warm to his touch of her warm breasts, her warm milk, and the insides of her thighs that radiated heat. He slid himself along her belly a strong pulsing at the base of his cock and a sudden sensitivity in the head almost made him cum. Like a zombie, he mindlessly kicked her legs open and lowered his knees between hers. In the haze of his mind he reflected how pulling a string and releasing the loincloth was like pulling the tail of a slipknot for a horse and taking a ride. The loincloth came down on one side until he noticed the knot on the other side.

Her pussy was hot but not obviously wet he noticed rubbing her all around her crotch, belly, and thighs with his hands. Marcos also noticed the slight paunch from pregnancy. He removed his other glove with his teeth, the irony was not lost on him that this was really, what she wanted and would have taken if she could. He moved to her vagina and used his fingers; while the outside was hot and dry, the interior was nice, hot, and wet he noticed. He stirred his finger around then dragged it out and tickled her bud. She made obvious moans and her hips were starting to move. He pushed his fingers into her again stirring some more and sliding his fingers along the wet rough place at the top of her canal.

She twigged from restive sleep to back-arching hip-raising alertness. He took advantage of her position and put in another finger heading for the same spot. Under her hips, her hands were dancing and her fingers dug into the soil. He tried to add a third finger but could only do it with them squeezed tightly together. He knew three finger across was the ticket that would at least get her wide enough to take his cock, anything else would be like bringing a horse through a half-door.

Marcos worked her up for a while. He placed her bucking hips in his lap even and even licked the bud if she jumped high enough. Finally, after a third hard fought orgasm she was relaxed and was ready for the diameter if not the full circumference of his leaking cock. He unbuttoned the last two buttons on his trousers and stretched over her. Kaarthen was nearly about to go to back to sleep again, despite how much she wanted to fight or run away. She could see him over her and with one thrust, he was in deep, more than halfway into her pussy. The heat and the wetness made him feel as though he was getting a private bath for his cock. He thrust in again and her hips rose trying to dismount him and stopping his advance by moving to counter. His hazy brain made his decision and he rose up onto his knees pushed her shoulders down and thrust up hard.

Her tunnel guided him deeper until he hit the almost healed mouth of her womb. Upon reaching the cervix, he instinctively lunged further with his cock again making her cringe. He started a moderate pace ramming her with hard full-length strokes. He was kissing the core with the tip of himself until it started to open also. He lunged hard again, his 10 and a half-inch cock now pushing beyond her grip with a full 2 inches after the head in the void of her womb. Kaarthen didn’t know what to do, her body was in painful pleasure, and this demon holding her down was setting a mind-crushing pace. She wanted to kick him away or hold him still deep within her; she knew this painful forced orgasm was only the beginning.

Marcos continued to lunge hard and quick from root to tip savoring this awesome feeling as it swept him along. His strokes pushed and pulled through her hot swirling pussy to the hot void on the other side. Again, the female under him gasped, jittered, and squeezed him. Her canal closed tightly pulsing, and for a vague moment, Marcos felt the back wall of her womb rough along his head. All too quick it was over and her body still primed was building up again. Marcos continued his march pushing himself through from root to tip into her slick wetness.

Marcos raised a leg over his shoulder and squatted over the other leaning down for her nipples. He wasn’t pulling back as far now and could tell his time was short. Feeling the grumble of his balls, he tightened his grip on her breast and thigh and lunged one last time to spew what he could into her. Like lightning, she was suddenly awake clawing to get away. Her body burned with the near scalding loads that were directly shot into her fertility.

“Noo…NNaaa,” She protested mindlessly.

“Silence cow, take this.” Marcos hissed and pulled her in tighter.

With Kaarthen’s arms bound, she was trying to use his shoulder under her leg to be fulcrum for leverage. Finally, his grip loosened and her struggles ceased, and a body warming high accompanied their shared post-coital bliss. Kaarthen passed out again knowing not much could get worse.

Marcos also felt tired and knew she could be a threat when he closed his eyes. He grabbed the shredded cloth to use once more. He bound her ankles to the binding already around her elbows. He set a few traps, since moving was now going to be difficult. Once done, he walked back and looked at her again, he was happy to have had her she really was beautiful. Covering his face, and with his robe back on, Marcos crept to the top of the ridge and watched the campsite. It had been a day and still he didn’t know where the Huntresses were. Anyone who went north for food had to be crazy.

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