DISCLAIMER:
DISCLAIMER; THE CHARACTERS IN THE FOLLOWING STORY ARE COPYRIGHTED BY UNIVERSAL STUDIOS. NO COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT IS INTENDED THIS IS SIMPLY A WORK OF UNCOMPENSATED FAN FICTION.

WARNING: WARNING; THE FOLLOWING STORY CONTAINS GRAPHIC SCENES OF VIOLENT, NON-CONSENSUAL FFF SEX, IF YOU FIND THIS IN ANY WAY OFFENSIVE OR ARE UNDER AGE OF 18 YOU ARE ADVISED TO STOP READING NOW AND READ SOMETHING MORE APPROPRIATE. THANK YOU.

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The Last Hunt
by Dreamweaver

My friend and I rode out the next day early after the last night's ceremony. The Amazons were beginning to bore me and the dancing girls only served to get us both hot and bothered. I looked at her across the bonfire and she rolled her brown eyes at me. We were both thinking the same thing. Time to strike out again if only to hunt or just roam the countryside and see what kind of trouble we could find.

Two rogue Amazons are what my friend and I were called, though we were really neither Amazons nor friends. Oh, we went from village to village (Amazon) under the ruse of bringing news from one, or to the other. If we had no news or messages we just made some up and we were getting awfully good at it. Then we'd take advantage of the free beds, food, sex and other gifts.

Now as for being friends, we could hardly stand each other and had even crossed swords once. But she was amusing to fight with and very good, even though she was on the skinny side and shorter than I. And we certainly were not attracted to one another. She had scraggly white/blonde hair and her teeth were so big she looked like a horse when she smiled. I preferred my women with a little meat on their bones.

It was hot that day and we followed the river, on horseback, at a leisurely pace for hours, till up ahead we heard laughter. "Sounds like a coupla live ones to me," my partner says with a smile.

"I didn't even know there were settlements around here," I say.

We were still out of sight of whoever was doing the giggling so we dismounted our horses and made our way careful and quiet through trees and bush. We did not want to frighten away potential prey we were stalking.

Two young ladies were taking advantage of the hot sunny day. One, a brunette, was finishing up with the day's laundry apparently, and the other, a little blonde, was either writing or drawing on some rough paper with a quill. The blonde was wearing little more than a short skirt and a small sleeveless top. The brunette was more modestly dressed in a longer dress and they both appeared to be around eighteen or twenty summers old.

"Oh, sweet," says my friend.

"Wait till one leaves," I say.

She looks at me.

"Two would be too noisy," I say. "Besides, notice how the blonde has taken her boots off?"

"Ohh, you're so good," my friend purrs. Obviously we'd be on top of her before she could get them back on and run to safety. A mistake that left her wide open to attack. Her vulnerability made her that much more attractive to us.

The brunette was gathering up her things and putting them in a basket and getting up to leave. "Don't stay too long," she says to the blonde. "It'll be dark soon." The blonde waves her off and returns to her drawing, dangling her bare feet in the water.

My friend has already gone back to get the horses. My mouth is dry. The girl stands and stretches, her arms reaching to the sky, giving me a tantalizing view of all her ripe curves. Then, unaware she's being watched, lies back on the bank and closes her eyes. I can see her bare belly, peeking out from that short top. Plump thighs you could really sink your teeth into. Hair that looked like gold in the sunlight. She has no idea how much trouble she's in. And I want her so much that my privates start to throb.

"Very sweet," my partner whispers.

"Let's go," I say.

When we are sure the brunette is out of earshot and not coming back, we trot our horses casually out of the cover of woods and across the small stream a little distance from our quarry, so as not to alarm her too much. She sits up and looks at us. We must be an imposing site: two warrior women, heavily armed and leathered, rising tall above her on horseback.

"Say, little girl," says my partner, "might you know of where we can find a decent clearing around here to make camp for the night?"

She hurriedly stood up and pointed south, downstream. "Not far that way," she says. She holds her arms and paper in front of her body - a reaction to the way I'm studying it up and down. I'm told I have a very intense look that makes people uncomfortable. It must be my icy blue eyes. I've learned to intimidate with a stare, or the tilt of my head, even a raised eyebrow. Add to that my height and midnight black hair…physical qualities I've learned well to use to my advantage in both battle and seduction.

My partner pats her saddle. "Jump up here and show us where it's at. We'll bring you right back."

The blonde gathers her boots off the ground and slowly starts edging back up the bank the way the other girl had gone before, never taking her eyes off of us.

"I really have to get back home," she smiles. "I have so many chores to do before supper. If I'm late I'll be in a lot of trouble."

"You don't have to be scared of us," my partner reassures her. "After all, we're just girls."

Our quarry hesitates.

My partner's the closest but not close enough. She could manage to get a scream out. I get my coiled bullwhip from my hip and hold it where she can see, and then I lean my arms on my saddle pommel staring her right in the eye. I hold her gaze just long enough for my partner to slide off her horse and come right up behind her. A move my partner can accomplish in two seconds.

Her avenue of escape cut off, the girl opens her pretty mouth to scream, my partner's hand already clapped hard over it. All she gets out is a little "umph umph." My partner's other hand holds a very sharp dagger at the girl's throat.

"If you scream," I say to her, "we'll have to kill whoever comes to rescue you, maybe your ma and papa. You don't want that, do you?"

The girl shakes her head slowly, green eyes locked on mine.

"We're just lonely, that's all," my partner says in her ear. "We just want some tit, maybe a poke or two. We ain't gonna hurt ya. NOW, GET ON THE DAMNED HORSE," she snarled.

I brought her horse closer to where they were. The girl started to comply silently, but she was so petite we both had to help her into the saddle. My partner mounted up behind her and we quickly crossed back over the stream and into the thicket. The sooner we disappeared, the better.

Although I had no reason to fear the average enraged father I kept my eyes and ears alert for some time, for any search party, till I was sure we were a safe distance. Maybe a good eight or ten miles. My partner was softly talking to miss village virgin and caressing her naked thighs the entire way.

(I thought back to the time we first joined forces, just the last summer. We had snatched a young bride on her wedding day, brazenly. Right in front of all the guests at the outdoor celebration. I had to run one brave soul through the vitals as we left, but I had no way of knowing if he was the groom or father. He just should not have interfered with our hunt.

We took the bride to a secluded cave, stripped her, tied her spread-out to stakes in the ground. Then we slowly decorated the naked flesh of her breasts, belly and legs with the scalding, melted wax from several differently colored candles. (I preferred red myself; it looks just like blood). We then scraped the dried wax off her trembling body with our knives and started all over again. Then, when she thought the worst was over, my partner and I savagely robbed the young bride of the gift she had so carefully saved to give to her husband on their wedding night--several times over.

"We can stop here," I say. "It's dark and I have to get a fire going."

"Why? It's too warm yet," says my partner.

"We have to burn that paper she has. She could tear it into little pieces and make a trail for them to follow."

The girl's eyes get big.

"If we throw it out, they'll run across it and know they're on the right track. Either way it'll lead them right to us."

"Please don't, please. Please don't burn my stories," the girl pleads to me. She's about to be ruined by two strangers and all she is worried about are some sheets of paper.

I've struck my special stones together to make a spark and after I ignite the kindling, the parchments go next to feed the fire. The girl sinks to her knees. "Why do you have to be so mean?" she says.

"Because it's fun," my partner says. "What was the story about? Oh, I know, let's see." She looks up at the sky as if thinking. "An innocent young village virgin gets carried off and ravished by two BEAUTIFUL, DANGEROUS women warriors. And ends up loving every minute of it!"

I can't stifle a small laugh. It is no laughing matter to the girl, however. She hangs her head and starts to cry helplessly.

"Are you a virgin little girl?" my partner goes on.

"OF COURSE I AM," the girl sobs.

"How did you stay one for so long with a body like that? You have curves that can drive both men and women mad with raw animal lust." She was half mocking the girl - and I was enjoying it - but what she said was true.

"And running around half naked all the time. And by the way - you have got the prettiest little face." My partner leans real close to stare right in her eyes and starts poking her in the ribs till the girl folds up and actually giggles. "Ticklish too!" My partner tickles the girl unmercifully till she is convulsing with uncontrollable laughter.

"Alright, that's enough!" I say, annoyed. If only she knew how hostile and envious my partner really was toward girls like her, she'd be begging to be killed right now.

The girl gets quiet and our eyes meet across the fire. For a second there I imagine I see something in hers. Desire? An attraction? Was she wishing, trying to convey to me that she wanted me to be the first? I'd seen that look before.

I started to unpack my bedroll and my sensual apparatus.

"What are you going to do to me?" the girl asked, looking wide eyed at some of the things we pulled out of our saddle bags. Things she had no doubt heard about but never actually seen. She sounded more curious than scared.

"We're going to make love to you, honey," my friend said from behind her, slowly inserting a dagger between the girls cleavage, cleanly slicing her top off. Ripe rose-tipped breasts pop free. I can't help but stare at them. "Then maybe we'll hang you from a tree and use you for target practice." With both hands she kneaded and squeezed the girl's ample, firm breasts. My mouth was watering now.

"Or trade you to some pirates in exchange for some furs," I add, as we had with the bride.

"Please…" she gasped. "Take me back home right now and there won't be any charges made. My father will give you anything you want."

"He already has," I say. I light a candle from the fire, and stand it up in the soft ground. Then I grab the girl's face and start kissing her mouth. Noisy, wet, nibbling kisses. Sensual and gentle at first, then I force her mouth open with my tongue and caress hers with mine. Harder and harder I kiss, while my partner feels her breasts and belly.

Then her hand snakes down into the front of the terrified girl's skirt, her arm disappearing to the elbow under the garment as she rapidly strokes the girl between the legs. I reach down and grab her round little ass and squeeze. Between us both we have literally taken her breath away. Her chest heaves as she makes unmistakable moans of pleasure or fear. I can't tell which, nor do I care.

She struggles, but we are much stronger and hold her fast. I grab the girl's wrists and pin them high behind her, bowing her body backward at an uncomfortable angle, pulling her closer to me, sucking and chewing on her exposed throat.

(My partner shimmies out of her leathers while the girl is thus distracted and resumes her explorations of our prey's body with her hands.)

(My privates feel tender and swollen already just from the sight and sounds of little miss village virgin at our mercy and control)

We wrestle her to her back on the sleeping fur. She manages to free one of her hands and slap me across the face. "YOU FILTHY, DIRTY, BEAST!" she spits.

"You have no idea," I snarl. Her struggles only serve to excite me further. Instead of punishing her for the slap, I grab both her wrists and pin them to the ground (hard) over her head then, head open-mouthed straight for one of her nipples. I suck hard as I can, enjoying her gasp with shock. My partner lies down on her opposite side, locking onto the other nipple with equal savagery, taking one of the girl's wrists in her hand to help me out. (We may not like each other but we work well as a team). With our free hands we fondle her belly.

"Please, please stop," she pants breathlessly. I take the nip between my teeth, pull and shake my head, but gently, returning to suck even harder. At the same time one of my fingertips roughly invades her navel, drawing circles inside.

"AHH, AHH, HAA, HAA, HAA," the girl pants, suddenly bringing her knees up, squeezing her legs tightly together. I've found what I suspected was one of her most sensitive spots. (As it was for a surprising number of women I've bedded. Lots of nerve endings there).

"What the hell are you doing?" my partner asks.

"Watch, you might learn something. I'm going first." I stand up, my eyes never leaving the girl's, loosen the laces on my leathers and let them fall to the ground. Next I pull the hip strings, on both sides of the tiny bit of leather covering my privates. I stand there for effect, a moment, a tall powerful (nude) warrior. My face is stern, unreadable as I lock eyes with our 'guest.' Still held down by my partner, she seems mesmerized. I'm sure she's never even seen another woman (or man, for that matter) naked before. Her breathing never slows, her legs still tightly together.

I pick up my sword, and her eyes get big, but all I do with it is slice both sides of her skirt and whip it off before she knows what's happening. I kneel in front of her legs and push them apart roughly.

"Let's tie her up!" my partner gushes.

"No need for that," I say, addressing the terrified girl. "You'll be a good girl for me, won't you? Or else you'll get a real beating."

She lays her head back in response and closes her eyes, relaxing a bit now that I've put my weapon away. "Just get it over with," she answers.

"Then it's my turn," my partner says, holding her wrists.

(My friend and I had run across an older Amazon leather-craftswoman who made the finest phalluses I'd ever seen. Made of soft black leather and even long enough to be used by two at once. After stitching them into the desired shape and size, she turned them inside out so the seam was inside and the outside was smooth. She could even make one with ridges along the shaft (one like that my friend purchased). These were then stuffed tightly with wool, so they were firm enough to penetrate, and soft enough not to cause any serious pain or damage with vigorous use.)

I took my phallus and placed one end tight against my privates where it could be held in place by the folds of skin there. The other end protruded from between my legs. I spit on my hands and used the saliva to thoroughly wet the phallus. The girl hasn't seen what I'm doing; she's squeezing her eyes tightly shut.

I rip her undergarment off and she lies before me in all her naked loveliness. Her opening looks tiny, unused. I stroke it lightly a few times then slowly push my middle finger in. I have to see her reaction when I do this. Her chest and belly heave up and down. I love watching how her ribcage and all of her stomach muscles stand out. Her eyes are still closed and her teeth are gritted.

"Don't hold your breath!" I command. "I want to hear the sounds you make."

HAA, HAA, HAAA, she exhales.

My finger easily reaches the back wall of her opening. I stroke it in and out a few times and follow it with one more finger, then another. Three was a tight squeeze. She was short and tight inside - but very wet already.

"Do it, do it!" my friend smiles and licks her lips.

I withdraw my fingers and rub the phallus's tip against her teasingly.

"WHAT'S THAT?!" the virgin cries.

She tries to slam her legs shut and I have to shove them apart, rather roughly. "BEHAVE!" I warn, slapping the inside of her thighs. I reach down and hold the folds of skin around her opening out of the way. She can't close her legs with me in the way now. Slowly I push the phallus in, adding more saliva as I go. UMMM, UMMM, UMMMMM, she moans.

"Rip her in two!" my partner says.

"Shut up," I say.

I start out with slow, shallow strokes, each one rubbing the opposite end of the phallus against my own womanhood, so I feel everything, every movement. Then I lean above her, eye to eye, and sink the thing all the way in. OHHHHHHHHHHHH! HHA, HHA, HHA, HHA, HHA, HHA, HHA, HHA, HHA…she squirmed, her body undulating. I know the look in my eyes must be: I'm having you and there's not a damn thing you can do about it.

"OH YEAAH!" My partner yells. "THIS IS THE BEST ONE YET."

I ignore her, lost in my own pleasure. The girl was definitely loosening up; she was very noisy now, giving up on maintaining her control.

I settle into a rhythm: shallow, shallow, shallow, a little deeper, deeper still, back to shallow, then when she doesn't expect it, I sink it all the way several times. Her luscious body bows upward toward me. I fantasize about riding her all the way back to her village, impaled on the pommel of my saddle. Then she'd really have something to scream about.

Again I suck on a helpless nipple with all my might. My partner mouths the remaining one. Shallow, shallow, shallow, DEEP, DEEP, DEEP, DEEEEP.

Every squeal, every grunt, every little movement of her body under mine quenches my wild animal thirst. She's close to release now and so am I. My hair is soaking with sweat. I can barely hold it. I brace my hips for the final push. With shaking hand I pick up the candle. I sink all the way in rapidly bearing down hard. At the same time I pour molten candle wax in her little belly hole.

That pushes her over the edge. Her entire body convulses violently. The movements make me come painfully. I hold onto her hips, the phallus resting inside her. She spasms off and on for several minutes, thrashing her legs like a dying deer. When we think it's over she bucks again, then once more, then again.

"This could go on all night," my partner says in amazement.

I can't resist; I give her a few more deep strokes, just to show her who's boss. Then I withdraw and roll on my back to rest. I feel drained.

"Did little village virgin wear you out, my dear?"

I just want to fall asleep on top of the girl; instead I gingerly dislodge the phallus from where it's wedged, driven deep in my privates.

"On your knees, slave!" I hear my partner, but the girl is too exhausted to move. My partner rolls the girl over onto her stomach and pulls her hips up so that she's on all fours, with my partner kneeling behind her, her phallus protruding toward the girl's exposed opening.

She swings one hand far out to one side and smacks the girl hard on the rump, then surges her hips forward. She pumps the girl unmercifully fast, throwing her head back in triumph. "OH YEAH! OH YEAH! SCREAM FOR ME YOU LITTLE WHORE!" Faster and harder she thrusts, pausing frequently to administer another crack to the girl's reddening ass. The girl just lies there on the ground, her face in a grimace, little hands grasping the grass in front of her for support. My partner reaches forward and grabs handfuls of the girls golden hair, jerking her head back at a painful angle.

"Do you think any boy is going to want you NOW?" she says in the girl's ear, punctuating each word with another thrust. "Nothing bad ever happens to good little girls like you, does it? Your lives are so perfect and peaceful and ideal with mommy and daddy and sister and brother in your happy little home. Till you start acting like a little slut in front of the wrong people," she says through gritted teeth, still thrusting.

Watching the fire-lit assault, I suddenly find myself longing to mount the girl again when my partner has finished. At that moment my eye catches the glint of steel in my friend's hand as she raises her dagger to strike the girl. Without thinking I'm on my feet behind her, one arm around her neck, and with the other hand quickly twist her head to one side, cleanly breaking her neck.

I'm able to keep the blade from touching the girl as my partner's lifeless body crumples to the ground. I grab her by the ankles and drag her body into the scrub, far enough away so that neither one of us has to look at it and follow that with her leathers. Never could see the point in wasting a perfectly good lay by killing it afterward.

I kneel next to the motionless girl and check to see if she's breathing. She is, but has mercifully fainted. I move her into a more comfortable position, lie down beside her, cover us both with the rest of the fur and fall asleep.

In the morning, I awake to find her with her head on my shoulder and arm around my waist. My hand is on her golden head.

She wakes and looks at me.

"I was cold," she says timidly.

"It's alright," I say. Up close she looks like an angel. She suddenly starts, looking around the camp with wide frightened eyes. "She's gone for good," I say, getting up (still naked). "Never did like her anyway. You can have her horse and her things if you want. Take em.'"

"I couldn't, really," she says, wrapping herself up, trying to hide her nakedness from my eyes.

I throw a pouch of provisions to her - some bread, cheese and dried meat - and a blister of fresh water.

I go down to the bank to relieve myself, wash a little and dress back into my leathers and armor. Then I return to camp to see if I can find something for the girl to put on, her boots would still be intact at least.

"I'm..I'm..bleeding, I think," she says, sniffling.

"Let me see." I set beside her.

She folds her body up tightly, hiding her face in hands.

"How can I help you if you don't let me have a look? I won't do anything."

She parts her bruised thighs to show me her space, which is swollen and angry red.

"Just a little." I get out some clean, soft wool that I keep handy in my saddlebag for my Moon-times. I soak the wool with water and press it to her wound gently. "Keep it there for awhile. Try to see a midwife or healer when you get back. And eat something before you get sick."

"Thank you for your kindness."

"Don't thank me." Truth be told, the game just didn't sit well with me anymore, especially after seeing the damage we'd done close-up. It makes me want to retch. I find a light suede tunic in my pack and hand it to her. "This should fit. Take her horse and ride yourself back, just follow the river."

"I can't go back." She hangs her head. "I can never go back. I just couldn't face the way everyone would look at me."

"I can take you as far as the next province, I suppose. It's about three or four days."

"If I do go with you,…will you…use me again?" she asked shyly.

"I might."

She nodded, avoiding my eyes.

"It wasn't so bad when you did it."

"Don't go liking me now. I'm not a likeable person."

X had the scroll she was reading snatched rudely from her hands as she was reading.

X: Hey, I'm not finished reading.

G: I haven't finished writing it yet.

X: I want to find out what happens next. Do they end up together?

G: Maybe.

X: I'm shocked; I didn't know my sweet, little wife had such a fiendish imagination.

G: Don't take it too seriously. It's just a story. I just wrote it for myself.

X (grinning) A beast, huh? You really want me to use that THING you bought in the back room of that tackle shop on you?

G: I thought we might sometime. Just try it, you know.

X: I prefer doing everything the natural way.

G: You are always very gentle with me and I appreciate that, but sometimes I just wish you were a little more, not violent but vigorous.

X: I can't have this kind of thing lying around when I've worked so hard to clean up my image.

G: Nobody's going to see it but us.

X Gets up and sits behind G wrapping her body around G's. With her lips close to G's ear she starts a low guttural growling deep in her throat - a perfect imitation of a wolf. G shivers as X sinks her teeth in G's throat, not hard enough to break skin but hard enough to hold her mate while her short fingernails rake the inside of G's thighs.

G: OH MY LOVE.

END