<div style="text-align: center"><span style="font-size: 18px">Victorian Englishmen on the Lost Island of Amazons<br/>
(new Amazon partner needed)<br/>
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Prologue:</span>​</div><br/><span style="font-family: 'Georgia'"><span style="font-size: 18px">It had taken seven years of research, the hiring of a number of intermediary agents (some of questionable reputations) and the cajoling of a number wealthy individuals in the Royal Explorer's Society of Penzance, but Sir Braxton Ignatius Grimsby had finally secured the funding to hire a ship and equip an expedition to the Mediterranean Sea to search for the sunken island of the Amazons. <br/>
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Braxton's first inklings about the possibility of a lost and sunken island in the Mediterranean came in the form of an amphora jar, which had been rumored to have been handed down through his family since before The Crusades. His ancestors called it "The Daedaleus Jar" because an intricate mechanism needed to be solved to open without breaking the container. Of course, Braxton's ancestors might have easily gambled that what was inside was more important than the jar itself, but it was also a beautiful piece of history, depicting something like a Greek Queen or Goddess being adored by lesser males, and their fortunes were never so dire that they gave more than a passing fancy to breaking it open.<br/>
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When Braxton was twenty-three years old, he came into possession of the perplexing jar at the passing away of his father. Braxton's older brother, Jerome, was gifted the family estate but a provision in the last will and testament required that Jerome surrender one-third of the cash accounts and one-third of the "family treasures" to Braxton. His older brother, satisfied with his Biblical "double portion", made no fuss that one of the treasures that Braxton chose for his own was The Daedaleus Jar.<br/>
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With sufficient funds at his disposal and other investments likely to assure him a modest if not somewhat comfortable life, Braxton turned his attention to the riddle of the jar. He made a number of trips to libraries at Oxford and at Cambridge to study puzzles of ancient Greek ingenuity. Eventually, he was reminded of a story concerning the myths about Daedaleus and eventually solved the riddle of the jar with the help of a ladybug.<br/>
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The contents of the jar included an amulet on a chain and a scroll of apparently ancient Greek writing. <br/>
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Having studied Latin and Greek as a boy, Braxton believed that he had managed a crude deciphering of the scroll text. It described an island ruled by powerful women. Braxton had trouble imagining a place of heroic ladies, considering the state of modern females, but immediately thought of Queen Victoria and tempered his male incredulity. Perhaps these powerful women devoted themselves to scholarship and were the wise council of the men of the island? That might make sense….<br/>
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The scroll also described that the amulet provided directions to this island. Braxton became very excited at this discovery but howled in dismay, earning the displeasure of the librarian, when he discovered that the amulet had three interlocking pieces of which he only had one piece.<br/>
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In the intervening years, Braxton's agents found the other two pieces of the amulet. Braxton traded three of the other family treasures that he had inherited for one piece of the amulet. He commissioned the invasion and theft from a family crypt in Hungary for the other piece when his agents' efforts to negotiate for it were rebuffed. Apparently, this bit of skullduggery seemed to remain unknown to the family in question.<br/>
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Believing that he had the answers, but not willing to give up the knowledge to someone that might secure whatever treasure and artifacts might be waiting for an expedition, it took some time and promises to secure enough investors from the Royal Explorer's Society. Finally, on the Eighteenth of April, Eighteen Sixty, the expedition set sail from Penzance.<br/>
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Now it was Midsummer Eve, on the Mediterranean Sea, approximately Thirty-three degrees North latitude and Seventeen degrees East longitude. The phase of the moon had changed from the total darkness of a new moon and now was a slim crescent that would wax larger over the next dozen days or so. Now, with the sun having just set, it hung in the night sky just above the western horizon. The planets Venus and Mercury were also visible. The first stars of the evening began to appear in the east. <br/>
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It was peaceful. The sea was calm and the wind was light. The sails had been furled. They were far from the normal trade routes on this sea.<br/>
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"Bull, I think that it is nights and seas like these that could make a man want to give up life on land," opined Sir Wendell Oleander, Braxton's fellow in the Explorer's Society and best friend from school and university.<br/>
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Braxton didn't care much for the nickname. It was crude. However, Wendell had stayed by Braxton's side when they were boys and helped nurse him back to health during an epidemic wave of influenza that kept Braxton in bed for weeks. Therefore, as far as Braxton was concerned, Wendell could continue to call him "Bull" as much as he liked. Braxton had the right to refuse to explain it if anyone asked. Why would people ask? Outwardly, Braxton stood six feet tall and was of a lean to a medium build. His hair was of a medium brown color, trimmed so that it did not extend over his shirt collar and curly. At thirty years old, his beard grew out in an exceptionally whisp-like fashion so until such a time as that changed he would shave so as to present a neat appearance. His complexion, which might have been called 'fair', had become lightly tanned during the voyage.<br/>
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Both men had opted to wear clothing like typical sailors wore. They had proper clothing for social affairs and for their return to England packed in their trunks, but they expected to get their hands "dirty" as they searched for the mysterious island. Braxton kept his completed amulet on its chain and hidden under his shirt.<br/>
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"Truly, Wendell, old friend?" replied Braxton, inclining his head down slightly to look Wendell in the eye. "What about those rumors that your sister has been matchmaking for you? It seems a bother, but I suppose that we ought to find women to marry and each start a family in the next few years."<br/>
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"Yes, Bull," answered Wendell, "I am under some pressure by my family to wed. This expedition might be my last adventure as a free man. I'm grateful that you have invited me to join you on it."<br/>
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The taller man gently clapped his friend on the back. "Think nothing of it, my friend. I can't think of anyone else I would rather have with me on this adventure." Braxton paused briefly and then added, "I'm going to the stateroom and get ready for sleep. Don't stay up out here too late. The work truly begins tomorrow."<br/>
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With those words, Braxton headed below.<br/>
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The Bosun had also been taking his ease and standing at the railing. He nodded in agreement with the friend of his ship's benefactor. The Bosun had also sailed through storms that could make grown men cry out to God for salvation, but it was moments at sea like these he thanked The Lord for the beauty of the world. <br/>
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Now the Bosun spoke to Sir Oleander, "I ken your thinking, master. It is now indeed a beautiful night on deck. You seem to be quite good friends with the other master. I envy you. A word of warning, a life at sea means that shipmates come and go like the tide and the wind. We have friends, but true good friends are more rare."<br/>
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"Bull?" said Sir Oleander, "Yes, I would trust Bull with my life. We have supported each other often over the years." Now Sir Oleander looked toward the hatch that his friend had passed through some moments before and considered following him. He turned to go, but the Bosun got his attention with a "Begging your pardon, master…."<br/>
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"Yes, Bosun?" Oleander answered.<br/>
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"I hope that you don't mind my asking," began the Bosun, "but why do you call Master Grimsby, 'Bull'? Mayhap he be stronger than he looks? His frame doesn't appear overly sturdy or bullish. I'm sorry, Sir, mayhap I be too curious for my own good."<br/>
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Sir Oleander gave the Bosun a conspiratorial smile and said, "Before I tell you, you must swear to never mention it to a soul until Bull and myself are back in England. Do you agree?"<br/>
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"I won't be lettin' the cat out of the bag, no Sir", answered the Bosun.<br/>
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In a hushed tone, Sir Oleander said to the Bosun, "Over the years, I've seen my friend change in and out of sports uniforms when we were at school. I can call him 'Bull' because of how far down into his trouser legs he has to reach when he wishes to make water."<br/>
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The Bosun was a bit surprised at the master's remark, but then, until someone lets their guard down, you don't really know them. He supposed that some gentlemen were more like common folk than they let on. He bade the master 'goodnight' and went about his business as the other man went below decks.<br/>
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Some hours later, he knew not exactly how long he had been asleep, Braxton awoke to the sound of women singing beautifully. He was still wearing pants and shirt (he changed his clothing in the morning, staying minimally dressed in case there was an emergency aboard the ship). He sat up in his bunk to listen. Wendell also awoke and looked at him. Braxton pointed a finger upwards and Wendell nodded. The pair made their way up to the main deck.<br/>
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The stars shone brightly. They had just emerged from the hatch when a massive thing, like a section of an unbelievably large snake, crashed into the deck just aft of them. Seeking to turn away, they then beheld the head of a great sea serpent rising from the port side, sliding across to the starboard side with its body now blocking their path both fore and aft. They could not see beyond the coils that they were betwixt.<br/>
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Moments later, the ship shook and groaned as the creature began to constrict it with its coils, like an earthly snake might crush a small rodent. Braxton could hear the sound of timbers cracking. Unable to keep his footing as the ship shattered beneath his feet he fell into the sea.<br/>
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Something, either a broken piece of the ship or something else, struck Braxton. He felt that whatever it was might have knocked his head off of his shoulders had it been any harder. Vague shapes played before his vision but not for long as his consciousness abandoned him.</span></span><br/><br/><br/><span style="font-size: 15px">X X X</span><br/><br/><br/><span style="font-family: 'Bad Script', 'cursive'"><span style="font-size: 18px">The island of Siguran was a beautiful one. One left untouched by modern society, undiscovered by modern man. Surrounded by large rock formations covered in greenery, trees that towered and soared into the heavens. The water that surrounded Siguran glittered magnificently, like a million opals had been melted down to make the ocean. The sands of the beaches that surrounded Siguran were like perfectly milled crystals. Everything about the island of Siguran was beautiful, including its people. The last of the Amazons, women more beautiful than the next. Woman that stood between seven feet, and nine feet tall. Women that were pure elegance, grace- and sexuality.<br/>
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The men were beautiful too, just as the women. Though in all regards men were completely, and utterly useless. They were the labourers, the servants and once a month when the women of Sigurans went into heat, they were a breeding partner. Though it was hardly a pleasurable experience to be bedded by a man of Siguran, their small appendages left many women of Siguran unsatisfied. So the women of Siguran often found their pleasures with each other, after all-- Who knew a woman better than a woman?<br/>
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At the head of the island of Siguran stood Queen Rhene. The seventh queen to rule Siguran, having ruled for half a century but looking no older than modern day's depiction of a woman in her late twenties. She would rule until the Earth decided to take her, it could be another half a century or it could be another three centuries. A queen's rule was unknown.<br/>
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It was the thirtieth day of the month when the island of Siguran changed for the first time in a thousand years. A day that was like any other within Palais, the largest building stood on Siguran made entirely of sandstone that glowed in the sun as the sand on the beach did. A pinnacle of the island that housed the ladies of Siguran, including the Queen herself.<br/>
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Standing with a sea of rich fabrics in deep blues, greens and golds hugging her figure tightly yet draped elegantly, with two slits that sat high on both her legs, legs that seemed to go on for miles. Her dark hair was dreaded, with gold decorative pieces within it. Her arms were bare, though adorned ornate tattoos that followed the natural curves of her body. If it were not for her dress one might see that Rhene was covered in those ornate patterns and almost organic lines.<br/>
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At her side stood her ladies, each one as beautiful as the next- dressed in rich fabrics as their queen wore, high slits all revealing that each of Rhene's ladies wore garters on their thighs containing a delicately carved dagger with ancient carvings carved along the blade. Weapons that were never used, but always carried in case they had to protect their queen.<br/>
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They stood in the hall of the Palais, within its grandeur interior that could put even the ancient Romans to shame. Servant men with palm leaves gently fanning the Queen and her ladies, Gods forbid any of the ladies felt an ounce of the heat that the Siguran weather created.<br/>
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"-My queen"<br/>
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Koa, one of the guardians of Siguran, spoke as she approached. Dressed in dark leathers that brought out her more feminine features whilst giving her the masculine appearance of a traditional guard. Koa was one of the faces not often seen by the queen, if she was seen it was never for a good reason.<br/>
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"Out with it Koa" Rhene nodded, drawing a calming breath. Usually Koa brought news of the male population and their… Rule breaking antics. Rape, was common. After all there was only one day of the month the women of Siguran paid the men attention… Such an offence was punishable by death though not without torture fit for such a crime..<br/>
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"-My ladies and I were patrolling our shores, when we found invaders. My queen" Koa explained before shifting "Men, not of Siguran descent" Koa added.<br/>
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Rhene's brow cocked high, into an angular yet delicate line "-Men?". Koa nodded<br/>
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"Men".<br/>
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Rhene nodded "...And where are these men now?" she questioned.<br/>
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Koa breathed out before nodding to one of the other guardians that had entered the Palais alongside her "Fetch them" she ordered shortly.<br/>
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Disappearing behind the grand doors of the hall, Rhene looked to her ladies before looking back to Koa "I would be curious to know just how these men found Siguran…" she purred with a sharp smirk playing upon her lips.<br/>
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"They don't speak much" Koa informed Rhene "Far too shaken up from whatever had them coming onto our shores dripping wet I'd say".<br/>
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Rhene nodded "I'm sure I can get them talking" Rhene assured "Men truly do have the weakest of minds" she looked back to her ladies who joined her amusement with small giggles of laughter.<br/>
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It was then that the hall's doors roared open to reveal Koa's recent discovery. Men, clearly not Siguran men just by judging their clothing. They were not rich fabrics, nor were they… All that pretty. Well, not in the traditional sense. There was something particularly rugged about them. Though there was one in particular that Rhene's eyes remained on as she stepped down the small steps that she had been standing on, her ladies remained where they had stood though now each one had a hand firmly on the dagger that sat high on their thigh. Whilst their queen showed no fear in approaching the newcomers. In fact, she seemed unfazed by the company of strange men that had been washed onto their shores. She had the upper hand. She always had the upper hand. And when it came to men, she most definitely had the upper hand.</span></span><br/><br/><br/><span style="font-size: 15px">X X X</span><br/><br/><br/><span style="font-family: 'Georgia'"><span style="font-size: 18px">Considering that the last thing the Englishman could recall was falling into the sea and a blow to his head, Braxton was surprised to be alive.... Was he alive? Was he in some 'afterlife'? He believed that he felt himself breathing air, so the philosopher Descartes' logic told him that he still existed, either in the world or the Hereafter. If it was the Hereafter, Braxton would have to rely on God's grace as the Englishman knew himself to be flawed and that the Christian faith was not as strong in him as he had observed it in others. To himself he thought, 'I want to live. I want to live....'<br/>
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As Braxton's consciousness neared wakefulness, he believed that he heard a woman softly chanting. The words were not English..., the words were Greek. His head was in pain, but this pain diminished and disappeared as the chanting ceased.<br/>
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Now Braxton began to feel strength gradually returning to his body. He opened his eyes to behold a woman's face, very close to his.... No, she was not truly that close but that she appeared to be something of a giantess. She was on her knees, administering to him, yet standing next to her was his friend and her head was still an inch or so higher than Wendell's! She was lovely to behold, he noted, her long dark hair framing a classically beautiful face. He also noted that she was dressed in beautiful cloth that was styled more for the weather and quite insufficient for feminine modesty. Still, he was the alien here and it would do him no good to begin lecturing to the natives. He attempted to sit up, but she placed a hand upon his chest and gently but firmly kept him from moving. Not strong enough yet to attempt resistance, Braxton lay back and relaxed. Then he said to her, "Thank you for saving my life."<br/>
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The giantess seemed a bit puzzled at Braxton's words.... He mildly cursed himself for his foolishness and repeated his thankfulness to her in Greek, "~Thank you for saving my life."<br/>
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To Braxton's thinking, her expression changed to one of pleasant surprise. She said to him, "~I am glad that you know how to speak our tongue, stranger. This one here," she indicated Wendell, "~is the only other of your party that we can talk to. The others are... not learned."<br/>
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'It was good to be educated', thought Braxton as he unthinkingly moved a hand to touch his chest. He felt the amulet, still on its chain. He pulled it from beneath his shirt and kissed it before tucking it underneath again. Did his doctor look at the amulet strangely? If she did then her expression quickly hid her interest in it.<br/>
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She removed her hand from Braxton's chest and stood, allowing him to also rise. Once on his feet, the man clearly saw that while she stood at least two feet taller that his own six foot frame but in beautifully human proportions. Braxton also noted that along with Wendell there were eleven other men who had survived the... 'Oh, Dear God!' he remembered, 'the ship had been attacked by a sea monster!'<br/>
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Braxton had wanted to weep at the loss of his fellow Englishmen, but bowed his head and momentarily clapped his right hand over his eyes until he could regain his composure. He did not want to let anyone see him cry, especially a woman! If he grieved further then he would do it in private.<br/>
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Lifting his head and removing his hand, Braxton now saw that the survivors were surrounded by a party of twelve of the giant women. These women looked stern and untrusting. They were clothed in leathers that, while still scandalous in English fashion, conveyed the look of soldiers. His mind understood immediately that, of course, the surviving crew were strangers to these women and it was perfectly reasonable for them to be on their guard.<br/>
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The mens' clothing had dried since the time that they had washed washed(?) ashore. There was likely still some saltwater residue needing to be laundered out. Still, when their guards instructed their group to begin walking there ought not be any danger of developing rashes unless the walk was a particularly long one.<br/>
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In the span of about thirty minutes or so, they reached a farmhouse where scantily clad men of their own height, again in perfect accord with the weather but somewhat indecent nonetheless, prepared a wagon and four ponies to convey the men further along on their journey. The pace of the walking ponies was similar to the pace of their guardians. In about another thirty minutes they arrived in the Amazonian city.<br/>
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It was beautiful and magnificent. More beautiful, thought Braxton, than Athens or Rome must have been at their zeniths! Could mortal men have truly created this? Were the old gods real?<br/>
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They were led to a building. It might have been a temple or a palace. They waited a bit while the commander and one other of their guard went inside, likely to report their arrival. The second soldier returned and led the men inside.<br/>
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The men appeared to have been taken into a throne room, a huge hall with a dais opposite the doors from which they entered. Walking closer, they saw six ravishingly beautiful giantesses, three on each side of the throne, with hands on the scabbards of large daggers attached to their garters. In front of the throne was another giantess, who Braxton imagined, must be their Queen. His heart ached as he beheld her beauty, but he suppressed his impure thoughts because she was royalty and all of the mens' lives might depend not accidentally giving offense.<br/>
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Braxton watched as she stepped down from the dias to get a closer look at the men. Knowing she was a queen, Braxton bowed deeply and held that position, waiting for permission to stand straightly, hoping that his fellows would mimic his actions. They needed to show proper respect to the ruler of the island.</span></span><br/><br/><br/><span style="font-size: 15px">X X X</span><br/><br/><br/><span style="font-family: 'Bad Script', 'cursive'"><span style="font-size: 18px">The queen of Siguran stood as an ethereal representation of the Siguran culture, and a pinnacle of womanly beauty and grace. Even surrounded by the beauty of her ladies she stood out, she was not the tallest of her ladies only standing at 8 feet tall. Though her features were striking, dark blue angular eyes lined with intricate eyeliner stared down at the newcomers with a gaze that could silence any man and have him at her will. There was no doubt that she was queen. Each step she took revealed a scantily clad thigh, leg and hip bone. An hourglass figure lacking the corset that modern women would have used to achieve such a figure.<br/>
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Rhene did not fear the newcomers as the others did. Although just how they had ended up on the shore still lived had Rhene curious, and just where they had come from was even more curious. The creatures of the sea did not often leave men alive, and the sirens that guarded the waters often had their way with any stray man that sailed their oceans before drowning them. Yet here the men stood, seemingly unharmed at least as far as the sirens were concerned though there was no denying they had crossed paths with the creatures that lurked below the surface.<br/>
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The man that caught her attention seemed to be the head of his own group, if only because of where he stood within the group. Though Rhene did have an eye for leadership, given that there were no women present it seemed only plausible that he was in charge. Only further confirmed as the man was the first to bow to the group and the others seemed to follow his lead. Intriguing it was to see a man not at the mercy of a female ruler.<br/>
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"~Do they speak our tongue?" Rhene questioned looking at Koa with a brow arched so delicately upon her face, a smirk deviously turning her lips.<br/>
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"~That one does, so does that one" Koa gestured to the man that Rhene had assumed to be the leader of the group and another man that stood close by. Rhene assumed the other man was some form of advisor, or second in command. It was the only explanation for the two of the group to know the language of Siguran.<br/>
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Returning her intimidating gaze back to the man that still remained bowed whilst the group around him began twitching with the urge to raise, she nodded.<br/>
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"~Rise" she ordered as she closed the space between herself and the stranger causing what could only be described as panic from her ladies who crept down after their queen still firmly grasping their daggers. These men were no Siguran. They were small, puny. A fact that had Rhene's lips turning into a smirk.<br/>
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"~So small" Rhene purred as she looked over the group of men before looking back at their leader as her hand raised to his shirted chest, looking over the buttons. The technology that a civilization held could easily be determined by a simple piece of clothing. Turning to look at her ladies she shared her amusement "~If they are so small, we may just be thankful for our men". There was an uneasy amusement shared with the queen and her ladies. These men could be unpredictable, they could attack the queen at any moment and yet the queen herself did not appear to fear what they might do. There she stood touching the man's clothing, talking of the man's size… Pushing the buttons of the man who at any moment could turn. All the while the queen did not hold a weapon and would only have to rely on her own strength, though the strength of these men was unknown... They were small, but they could be mighty.</span></span><br/><br/><br/><span style="font-size: 15px">X X X</span><br/><br/><br/><span style="font-family: 'Georgia'"><span style="font-size: 18px">Braxton felt relieved that the Amazon Queen had eventually given them leave to stand as normal men in her Royal Presence. Indeed, he had wondered if their bowing might have been insufficient to the ruler and that perhaps they ought to have gotten down on their hands and knees, like a kowtowing Chinese. Fortunately, the Queen seemed satisfied with the Englishmens' show of respect. He stood silent, waiting for the Queen to give him leave to speak or answer a question.<br/>
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His fellows, while bowing, had kept their eyes on Braxton. When the Queen spoke, they saw him stand straight and followed his example.<br/>
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The Queen did not introduce herself, or give permission for Braxton to introduce himself. This left the man in the unenviable position of having to stand still whilst she scrutinized his appearance. He was not comfortable, but he was an Englishman and he could endure a great deal of poking and prodding and still remain unnerved. He clearly heard the Queen speak of the crewmen's stature in an unflattering way. This puzzled him a bit as he and the crew seemed no smaller in height or frame than the men that were native to the island.<br/>
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Wendell also held his tongue. The Queen's comments were likely going over Braxton's head and Wendell was glad, for Braxton's sake, that his friend had not developed a ribald sense of humor. A more normal man of a more sexual nature might have been insulted at disparaging comments about the size of his manhood. Wendell also did his best to suppress a smile, for while he did not know the particulars of the general size of the native males, he imagined that nearly every other man on God's green Earth would come up 'short' in comparison to his friend, 'Bull'. Wendell hoped that if he was smiling that none of their captors would notice it.<br/>
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Braxton did his best not to fidget during this 'royal inspection'. He silently prayed to God, and even some of the Greek gods, that the Englishmen would somehow earn this queen's acceptance and respect. The British government had outlawed slavery in 1833, but Braxton found himself wondering if this might be how a dark African man might feel upon being inspected at the auction block.<br/>
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The Queen touched the clothing that Braxton wore, barely making any pressure upon the skin underneath. It produced an uncomfortable and ticklish sensation in Braxton. Still, the Englishman did his best to appear calm and collected.</span></span><br/><br/><br/><span style="font-size: 15px">X X X</span><br/><br/><br/><span style="font-family: 'Bad Script', 'cursive'"><span style="font-size: 18px">All eyes of the room were on their queen and the newcomer that their queen had seemingly taken great interest in. Rhene was like a cheetah or lion quietly stalking her prey, and making her position clear to the men who had the luck of surviving the attack. Little was known of the world beyond Siguran, however there were stories of a male dominated society where the women were treated as broodmares. To be seen but never heard. Things were not that way here, and the men were going to learn quickly. A man would not disrespect her or her title, a man would not take Siguran for his own.<br/>
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Drawing a step away from the male Rhene turned her back on the man, yet another daring move. Her silk skirts trailing down her back and falling to the floor like a waterfall of fabric. Her tattoos that continued from her arms were visible across her nearly bare back that was framed by draping fabric that made up her skirt. Making her way slowly up the stairs to her throne in silence she took her seat finally placing her intense gaze back upon the men.<br/>
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"~I am Queen Rhene, queen of Siguran, protector of sands and the tides. Daughter of Queen Inez, Gods rest her soul" Rhene finally introduced herself, her voice strong yet silken. A long title that Rhene was proud to behold. The Queen cared not for the names of the newcomers, men didn't have names until they earned their names.<br/>
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With a click of her fingers, one of the male servants that had been fanning Rhene and all her ladies dropped to her side with leaf in hand gently fanning his queen with a look of pure adoration upon his features. Rhene did not dare look at her servant, keeping her eyes fixed forward.<br/>
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"~Were they checked for weapons?" Rhene questioned Koa though did not look in the direction of the curly brunette guardian who was eyeing the group as ready to attack as the queen's ladies were.<br/>
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"I found no weapons, my queen," Koa replied with a nod.<br/>
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Rhene sunk down into the throne, a throne that was large even for an amazon such as herself. One leg crossed over the other, her dress revealing just enough that it was too much yet- just enough to keep an imagination going. "Strip" she ordered.<br/>
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"Your majesty?" Koa blinked.<br/>
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"Not you… Though perhaps I will reconsider at a later hour…" Rhene purred, tearing her eyes off the men long enough to give the guardian a lustful glance before returning those very same eyes to the men.<br/>
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Koa was wearing a smirk at the queen's suggestive words and tone, and the queen herself. The queen's words were enough to suggest if she did well, she would be rewarded by the queen herself. Quickly the young woman's demeaner changed as she turned her attention back to the men. now she was not unsure. now she wore the queen's confidence. "~You heard" Koa growled at the men as she shoved between them yanking at their clothes, causing some of the fabrics to wear with her force. "~You obey".</span></span><br/><br/><br/><span style="font-size: 15px">X X X</span><br/><br/><br/><span style="font-family: 'Georgia'"><span style="font-size: 18px">Fleeting thoughts about the possibilities of sexual congress with this queen, or any of the Amazons, danced in Wendell's mind as the Amazon Queen finished her close inspection of his dear friend, Braxton, who bore her scrutiny as befitting a proper English gentleman. He watched her stalk away from the group of men, ascend the dais and then turn to face them. He breathed a sigh of relief as the Amazon Queen, Rhene, addressed the men and introduced herself. He noted with interest how deliberately and enticingly she sat upon her throne, moves easily recognized as provocative and seductive by every man present..., except perhaps Braxton.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
It appeared that Braxton was about to introduce the men to Her Majesty (how strange to think of those words and not imagine talking about Queen Victoria) when Queen Rhene inquired of her soldier about the men having been checked for weapons. In Wendell's mind, this did not bode well. Perhaps the Amazons might have had a reasonable fear of the Englishmen had the Englishmen been of a stature equal to their... captors, yes, 'captors'. The words, 'hosts' and 'guests' certainly did not seem to apply any longer, the men were captives.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
However, Queen Rhene's next words stunned Wendell and likely completely flabbergasted Braxton! "~Strip."<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
Wendell's mind raced at what might happen. In private, with a woman who knew her mind and what she wanted, Wendell could easily see himself playing the subordinate and disrobing. He could not imagine publicly disrobing unless a knife was being held at his throat or the throat of a family member. Any other circumstance would be utterly humiliating and he guessed that this Queen wanted to humiliate them.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
Then there was Braxton to think about. It had been all in fun and Braxton had put up marvelously with the private nickname, but one time Wendell had used it with other friends about them and it caused Braxton to hastily excuse himself from their company. Then had it dawned upon Wendell that what Wendell had perceived as a magnificent gift was looked at as a curse by Braxton. He now understood that sometimes and in some respects that exceptional people could want to be perceived as 'normal' and in this matter Braxton was very far from normal.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
More words passed between Queen Rhene and her soldier, but Wendell had only just snapped out of his panicked trance over the queen's order. Soon the soldier waded in between the men, demanding compliance and tearing at their clothes. The men tried to retreat and shrank back at this aggressive display from the giant woman, but they had nowhere to go. He glanced at Braxton, seeing that the man's face had markedly paled and had seemingly frozen in personally painful shock.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
He might be throwing his life away, but Sir Wendell Oleander could be quite courageous, especially in social situations. He took a step forward, prostrated himself before the queen on the throne and begged on behalf of the Englishmen. "~Great Queen!" Sir Wendell implored, "~They do not understand! Please allow us to explain your orders to them."<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
Wendell did not imagine that the Queen was stunned by his lack of protocol, but the faces of the women on either side clearly showed anger. He imagined that he did not have much time before they decided to do something about him, so he continued his pleas, "~Also, my friend is of high rank (Wendell exaggerated a bit). It would cause him incredible embarrassment for lesser men to see him unclothed." Wendell searched his brain, attempting to think of anything that might move the Amazon Queen to show mercy on Braxton. "~Queen Victoria, of our homeland of England, would not want her subjects to be shamed in such a way."<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
One of the Queen's attendants started to move. Wendell did not know if this was the woman's own idea or if the Queen had given her some subtle signal, but she started advancing straight for him. Wendell was certain that he was about to die.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
Then Braxton moved and stepped between his friend and the advancing Amazon. Without a word, his hands down at his sides, his chest out, his stance defiant, he stared into the giant lady-in-waiting's face with a determined look upon his face as if he were daring her to blink.</span></span><br/><br/><br/><span style="font-size: 15px">X X X</span><br/><br/><br/><span style="font-family: 'Bad Script', 'cursive'"><span style="font-size: 18px">Queen Rhene watched as the men kept their distance from Koa, huddling like a group of prey attempting to survive in numbers. However amusing it was, Rhene's face was stone cold as she watched the show of just how gutless these men were. Just as gutless as the men of Siguran, if not more. Though it seemed Rhene had underestimated the one member of the group, as one of the men addressed her- Not the one she had taken interest in, but what seemed to be his second-in-command. At least he was smart enough to address her with respect… Still dumb enough to speak out of turn. It was just proof of what kind of society these men had come from. Where a man could speak freely, and expect a woman to listen.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
"~Your men will learn quickly" Rhene spoke coldly, watching as Koa continued to make her way through the group ripping what fabric she could get her strong hands on from the bodies of the men.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
However the second-in-command was quick to turn attention to his friend, the leader of this group it seemed. Though Rhene wondered if she had gotten the dynamic all wrong, after all- It was this man that spoke to her, and not the supposed leader. A man who spoke far too much.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
Breathing out a small breath of frustration, Rhene looked to one of her ladies. Zya, a striking blonde younger than the other ladies. She was a breathtaking sort of beauty, striking green eyes that could be seen from miles away. She wore a dress of silken green fabric that brought out the green of her eyes even further, the dress cut out at her middle showing the well-toned body that laid beneath the dress.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
This man needed to be silenced and adorning far less clothing. Nodding silently to Zya, Rhene returned her attention back to the men as Zya stepped down from her place with the queen's ladies. Removing her dagger from its place in her thigh garter, walking without a word towards the man. Perhaps it would look as if she were to kill him, but men were never killed-- Unless they harmed a lady.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
Gasps sprung out from the hall as the wordless leader suddenly put himself between his far too wordy second in command. No, Rhene had it right. He most definitely was the leader of this group of castaways. Rhene was quick to her feet at the ballsy move, he still wore all his clothing- He could still have a weapon. Though there was no panic in how Rhene stood, no panic behind her eyes.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
"Zya" she said quietly. The blonde was clinging to her dagger tightly, as if she were considering cutting down the man who had put himself between herself and the other. With the queen uttering her name however, Zya stepped back as the queen once again descended the stairs to join her lady's side before stepping to where her lady had been standing in front of him.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
"~You are courageous" Rhene spoke as her dark blue eyes locked on his "~Far too courageous for your own good" Rhene warned. "~You will learn a man's place in Siguran. There are no ranks when you are a man" Rhene's cold expression slowly returned to its smirking state as her hand once again returned to his shirt where she grasped the top and with one motion ripped the fabric down and off his body without an ounce of hesitation. Why would she hesitate? She had six ladies that would protect her, and guardians present that would not hesitate themselves to tear these men apart if they dared hurt their queen.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
The fabric fell apart under the strength of her hand, ripping apart at the middle and fluttering down his shoulders revealing the bare chest that laid beneath the surface. A bare chest that was adorned with something metallic. Something familiar yet something Rhene had not seen before. It was an amulet, uniquely Siguran. A sight that had the face of the queen dropping, as she stepped back from the man.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
"~Thief" she hissed, causing Zya to once again step forth holding the dagger as if she were ready to slice the man from head to pelvis at any moment. These men were from the outside, they came from lands beyond Siguran and yet they were in possession of that.</span></span><br/><br/><br/><span style="font-size: 15px">X X X</span><br/><br/><br/><span style="font-family: 'Georgia'"><span style="font-size: 18px">The shipwrecked Englishmen were in dire straits, equal to being caught between Scylla and Charybdis. Braxton's courage had failed him because of the impending shame and mockery he had expected when the Amazon Queen, Rhene, demanded that he disrobe. Only Wendell's pleading on Braxton's behalf cut through Braxton's despair. Braxton's courage returned when he saw one of the Queen's attendants move towards his true friend in a threatening manner. Braxton placed himself between the prostrate Wendell and the advancing Amazon. This action seemed to give some pause to the Amazon royal court.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
Given how the native men behaved in this throne room and how the other Englishmen had been cowed by the actions of the giant Amazons, and especially the Queen's soldier, Braxton briefly enjoyed a slight smile at likely being the first man in a thousand or two thousand years to even momentarily defy a Queen of Siguran. <br/>
<br/>
<br/>
Still, unarmed and risking the possibility of his fellow castaways being executed, there was little that Braxton could do in the face of these giant and barbaric Amazons. If they killed him, he would die defiantly, as might be expected of an Englishman in this incredible situation.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
He tried to quickly search his memory for some clever way out? A contest, perhaps? Given the size and apparent strength of the Amazons that idea held no hope for him. A battle of wits, maybe? But he had nothing that the Amazons wanted that they could not take from him. But too soon, Braxton was out of time.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
Queen Rhene was stepping forward and calling his bluff, telling him that he was foolish and had no power on her island. It was true. All he could do was stubbornly stand there maintain his paltry defense of his friend, Wendell, as she reached forward to grasp his shirt by the neckline at its front and rip it downward....<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
Then, something else unexpected happened. Queen Rhene's action exposed both Braxton's muscled torso and the amulet that he had used to search for this island. This island that he now laughingly had believed to have been sunken under the waves. Queen Rhene recoiled at the sight of the amulet. It seemed to have some significance to her. Perhaps it could help the castaways?<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
But that hope was short lived when Queen Rhene accused Braxton of being a thief. He actually had recieved 'stolen property' but Braxton was not a thief and his pride bristled at the accusation.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
"~Not a thief!" Braxton loudly proclaimed. He had nothing to lose and if he could tell his tale then maybe the Amazons would relent in their barbarous treatment of the Englishmen, but the odds were not in favor of it. "~Scholar!" he declared and then proceeded:<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
"~This amulet had been crafted in three pieces that were scattered though-out the continent of Europe for hundreds or perhaps thousands of years and uncounted generations. One section of the amulet was cunningly sealed in a locked jar. My family owned this jar for hundreds of years, calling it 'The Daedaleus Jar'. I successfully unlocked the jar and discovered the first piece of the amulet. Over the next six and a half years, I sought out the other two pieces and eventually put them all together. Six months after that, myself and my companions set sail to find your island. There is no known record of its existence except those records that I have made in my attempts to find it. So many years have passed that we had imagined your island to have sunk beneath the waves, like Atlantis, if Atlantis had truly existed."<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
Sir Braxton felt that he had the ears of the Amazons. Perhaps a bold declaration might aid the plight of the Englishmen? He had nothing to lose, so he swore an oath, hoping that the Amazons believed in the same Greek gods that Braxton had read about, "~By the name, 'Aletheia', the goddess of truth, may the Furies rend my body if I have just spoken falsely!"<br/>
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Braxton had thought himself finished, then words that he had not intended to speak came from his mouth, "~The world is not infinite. Knowledge of it increases and ignorance of it decreases. The future decrees that Siguran will not stay as it has been."<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
For some reason, Braxton felt weak, light-headed and confused. He felt that he was about to fall, but Wendell quickly rose up to catch him and keep Braxton on his feet.</span></span><br/><br/><br/><span style="font-size: 15px">X X X</span><br/><br/><br/><span style="font-family: 'Bad Script', 'cursive'"><span style="font-size: 18px">The amulet had never been seen by any living member that still lived on Siguran. But there were texts, carvings-- All about an amulet that no one had seen for a thousand years or more. An amulet that looked the same as that very one that now hung from the neck of the intruder. The Amulet of Prophecy. Of course, the amulet had been missing far longer than this man had been alive, far longer than Rhene had been alive. The man was no thief, if Rhene was thinking clearly she would have realised such a fact before the man had to explain himself.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
For once, Rhene did not stop the man from speaking. She had no words to say, she couldn't even bring her eyes from the amulet that belonged to her people as he spoke. But she was listening, all the while Zya stalked her way closer and closer to the man, not listening unlike her queen was.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
These men had meant to find this island, perhaps they had found it by chance but they had been searching for it. They had survived what the seas had thrown at them and had washed ashore exactly where they had wanted to be. Siguran.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
As Zya reached Rhene's side and went to step closer to the men, Rhene put her arm in front of Zya stopping the blonde in place just as the man swore to the Gods that what he said was truth before losing his strength and his second-in-command saved him from falling to his knees before the queen.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
It had been by pure accident that the amulet had fallen into the hands of the man, it had been an accident that he had ended up on an island he believed to have sunk beneath the surface.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
"~The amulet of prophecy" Rhene told the man "~Our island is protected by ancient magic, to remain undiscovered. That amulet is why you are here, why you are not dead rotting in the waves whilst sirens feast on your flesh".<br/>
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<br/>
Rhene breathed as she straightened, the man was weak but she was not about to show weakness. "~You may not be a thief, but someone was." Rhene spoke down to the man, as she grabbed the amulet and inspected it for a moment before yanking it from the man's neck, freeing it into her own grasp. And without another word the woman turned and made her way back up the stairs to her throne holding the amulet tightly in her grasp.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
Zya stood where she had been stopped, eyeing the man and waiting for orders, as did the guardians Koa and Eris that had stopped tearing the clothes from the men at the sight of the amulet. Orders were unclear. Were these men to die now? Zya blinked, looking back to Rhene who had once again crossed her legs in a provocative manner, clearly pondering just what she was to do with these men. Her thumb was running over the amulet as she thought.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
"~I am a merciful queen" Rhene spoke finally "~I thank you for returning our amulet."<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
Silence fell once again as the queen shifted in her throne, her dress riding up further. Something changed upon the queen's features, a seriousness- an intent. It was a coldness as Rhene finally made her orders "~Strip them" she then turned to the second in command who was strong enough to keep his men in check. "~Tell your men that any one who dare fight, will be fed to the sirens that should have dealt will you long before you came to Siguran" Rhene's lips quirked into a smirk "They love to kill men in the most pleasurable sadistic ways".</span></span><br/><br/><br/><span style="font-size: 15px">X X X</span><br/><br/><br/><span style="font-family: 'Georgia'"><span style="font-size: 18px">Braxton felt his head clear and his strength return as the Amazon Queen repeated her barbaric demands that the men allow the Amazons to strip them of their clothing and added the threat that they would likely be fed alive to monsters if they refused. She had ordered Wendell to translate her words to the Englishmen. Braxton now stood firmly on his own and indicated to Wendell that he ought to convey the Queen's orders and threats to the rest of the me. <br/>
<br/>
<br/>
With a heavy heart, Wendell turned to face the men and explained the situation saying, "Men, put away any notions that we are in civilized hands. We are captives. The Amazon leader (it might have been spiteful but Wendell decided not to identify her as a Queen, since she was not so civilized as Queen Victoria or any royal woman he'd ever heard of) desires us to be naked. Presumably to ensure that we have no weapons, but truly to display their power and attempt to shame us. Any who resist will be given over to monsters that will eventually kill the offender. Therefore, either remove your clothes voluntarily or do not resist if the Amazons strip you."<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
Some of the men's faces became pale and they stood in place whilst others began to remove their clothes by themselves. Wendell turned to face the Queen. Then he began removing his own clothing.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
Whilst Wendell spoke to the men, Braxton had made a full recovery of his strength and wits. Perhaps not all of his wits for he turned to face Queen Rhene and gave her the same expression that he had given her and her attendant when they had earlier advanced on Wendell as Wendell had plead on the Englishmens' behalf. Braxton now saw his dear friend begrudgingly acceding to the Queen's demands and removing his own clothing, rather than have it forcibly taken from him. Wendell was a sensible fellow. It was the sensible thing to do, but Braxton wanted nothing of it.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
Braxton still stood in his now tattered shirt and his intact trousers. His expression of contempt to Queen Rhene somehow intensified. Calmly, but icily, he said to her, "~Strip me."</span></span><br/><br/><br/><span style="font-size: 15px">X X X</span><br/><br/><br/><span style="font-family: 'Bad Script', 'cursive'"><span style="font-size: 18px">Rhene listened closely as the second-in-command was allowed to fill in the men on just what was going to happen to them if they dared rebel. The language was far different from the language of their own, however there were few words that remained unchanged. Such as the word Amazon, that did not follow and was not following the word Queen or anything that Rhene could identify as another word for queen. Rhene was focused on his words, she was no translator. She could not make assumptions to what it was the man was saying. However, she had a feeling that nowhere in his words had he addressed her as he should. Perhaps it was intuition, or perhaps it was the lack of trust Rhene truly had for the men standing before her.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
Whatever it was that he had said, however he had it said. It did not matter as many of his men began to follow instructions whilst others stood so still Rhene could have sworn they were attempting to camouflage themselves before making a quick getaway. It was those very men that Zya, Koa and Eris went for. Showing no mercy as they ripped, cut and tore clothing from the men's bodies. It was a brutal display, one that lacked blood and gore, yet perhaps it would have been easier to stomach if there had been.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
Rhene did not focus on the scene before her, instead she focused her attention to the two men standing before her. One obedient, and one who stared up at her with a look of pure rebelliousness and disdain. The leader who respected not an ounce of her authority. Then the man said something that surprised her and horrified those ladies that remained standing either side of her throne. Rhene did not speak immediately. Instead, she let those two amusing words hang in her mind for a few moments, considering them.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
"~How dare you?" Zelia, yet another lady of the Queen spoke up. A stunning woman with skin the colour of burned carmel, hazel eyes that burned into the man who had dared speak to her queen in such a way. Her dress was golden and sat upon her like melted gold trickling down her body. "~I ought to cut your tongue for speaking to my queen as you have done." Zelia had not moved from her position at the queen's side, she of course did not have permission as Zya or Koa did to strip the men and she most definitely did not have authority to hurt these men.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
"~Zelia" Rhene's voice was quiet, but silken as she addressed her lady, silencing her with just her name. But it earned her a small look that demanded explanation from perhaps what could be considered her most fiery lady. Though Rhene did not give her that explanation, instead she stood and made her way down to where the man stood and stood tall in front of him.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
"~You do not command me" Rhene spoke "~I am no obedient slave like the women of your people, just as you are no man of my people" Rhene explained. Her hand however came to the front of his trousers, gently palming at what lurked beneath the surface. Strange, she could find his appendage with little effort. Already she could tell he was carrying far more than the men of Siguran did.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
"~The difference is" Rhene began at a whispered, keeping her eyes locked on his "~You will be an obedient slave, you're able to be trained. I am a queen. I am not quite so obedient". Her hand that did not palm him, rested gently on the muscles that led down to whatever lurked beneath his trousers. Lines that were sharp enough to make muscle feel like bone. That hand was gentle, only her fingertips graced and danced over that sensitive skin.</span></span><br/><br/><br/><span style="font-size: 15px">X X X</span><br/><br/><br/><span style="font-family: 'Georgia'"><span style="font-size: 18px">Sir Wendell gasped Braxton's display of defiance to the Amazons. Wendell <i>had</i> shown bravery when he had thought that the Amazons might be civilized and sensible, but when the extent of their barbarism and threatened cruelty was no longer in doubt then Wendell had been cowed. Wendell could now only hold his breath and watch as Queen Rhene once again descended from her throne to confront Braxton.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
Of course, this queen was without any morals or decency, thought Wendell. She spoke to Braxton, telling the Englishman that she would enslave him and make him obedient whilst feeling for his manhood from outside his trousers and touching the bare skin of his belly in a teasing fashion. Wendell had not broached the subject of women with Braxton before and did not know if Braxton might be prone to be a slave to the pleasures of the flesh.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
Sir Braxton would had had to have been blind not to notice the tempting beauty of the Amazons and their queen, still his own indignation at the treatment of the Englishmen burned hot and currently worked as a defense against their queen's manipulation. He knew that his body might make demands of him, like eliminating waste at inconvenient times. He also knew that this queen's attentions might eventually cause him to spill his seed and foul his trousers. But whatever voluntary muscles he had were his own. Braxton was made of sterner iron than this queen had ever seen in a man. <br/>
<br/>
<br/>
He used her fumbling and tickling of him as anger fueled defenses in his mind. She once again spoke of her own willpower and supposed royalty, but that only added wood to the fire of Braxton's emotions.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
As she kept her blue eyes locked upon his brown eyes, he returned her stare. Then he spoke loudly, not to shout at her, but so that everyone in the room might hear him, "~There is already a Queen that I serve and obey. You are not my Queen."<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
Then Braxton's voice peeled throughout the Amazon Throne room, "God save Her Majesty! Queen Victoria!"<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
Almost every Englishman reacted on instinct and their voices rang out in ragged unison, "God save the Queen!"</span></span><br/><br/><br/><span style="font-size: 15px">X X X</span><br/><br/><br/><span style="font-family: 'Bad Script', 'cursive'"><span style="font-size: 18px">"God save the Queen!"<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
Not her. But their queen. Queen Victoria.<br/>
<br/>
Not Gods. But their one God.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
It was a chant that horrified each and every Amazon that stood witness. Dishonoring the queen, dishonoring the Gods. Gods that he had sworn to only a few moments ago. For the second time since the arrival of the newcomers gasps rang out in the hall, however this time it was followed by angry yelling. Women telling their queen to cut down the man where he stood. Even the men who fanned their queen were now yelling in an uproar, though not at their queen but at the men who had dared speak to her in such a way.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
Rhene's hand paused in place as the men had joined as one to rebel at her touch, proving once again he was more of a leader then she could ever give credit for. Her eyes narrowed on his that still continued to stare at her with complete disdain. She let the yelling of her people overlap with the yelling of his own; it was nearly deafening and enough to start a war if the man before her held more men beneath him.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
"~Enough!" Rhene's voice rang over the rest, silencing her people enough that one could at least hear themselves think. Her eyes shifted to Koa who stood staring at her queen expectantly. A public execution- she was ready to carry out one right then and there. Without a word however, not a verbal order but a nod was all it took. As Koa and Zya grabbed Wendell by the arms, pushing him to his knees. Koa held his arms behind his back and Zya knelt at his side, her body against Wendell's as she pulled his head by a fistful of his hair. With his neck exposed, the edge of Zya's blade now rested against his skin.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
Rhene's eyes had shifted back to the man, deciding not to watch as her guardian and her lady held his second-in-command at the blade of death. "~You stand on Siguran, lacking a way off Siguran", Rhene warned him. "~The lives of all your men, including your own fall to you" Rhene continued, her voice as a whisper as her fingers worked the button of his trousers, she slowly worked off his trousers.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
"~You may not like me, but your erection betrays you" Rhene breathed as she freed the man of his trousers "~And one day soon we will betray you, your mind will betray you, every part of you will betray you. Because that is--" Rhene's hand landed on what was now the man's bare erection.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
Something so large that it had taken the words, confidence and war from her lips. It was like an anaconda that kept going and going. Rhene found herself terrified, for the first time since the men had arrived she was terrified as her people had been. She had never seen anything over three inches, never felt anything over that. This was 14 inches at least, no- surely it was more. Girthy too. For the first time in her life, she wanted a man's cock more than she ever had, even when she was in heat.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
Swallowing, Rhene forced something of her confidence to return. She hadn't heard just how her ladies had awed over the sight of the appendage she was still yet to look down at and see. She didn't see how they stared… and craved the man just as much as she did.</span></span><br/><br/><br/><span style="font-size: 15px">X X X</span><br/><br/><br/><span style="font-family: 'Georgia'"><span style="font-size: 18px">Braxton's chest swelled with pride. He and his fellow Englishmen all knew who they were loyal to. It was to Queen Victoria that they owed their allegiance to and who they wanted to please more than any other queen on the face of the Earth. The mens' response of, "God save the Queen!" <br/>
<br/>
<br/>
But this was the beginning of Braxton's undoing. His hatred for the actions of the Amazon Queen had been momentarily forgotten, allowing the manhood inside his trousers to begin to respond to Queen Rhene's touches. He could feel it starting to swell and lengthen against the constraints of his clothing. Despite his conscious desires, it had a mind of it's own and seemed determined to take him with it.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
Queen Rhene briefly looked away, though she kept her hand over his groin area. Braxton followed her gaze to see two of her subordinates move to threaten to cut Wendell's throat for Braxton's resistance. Then the Queen told Braxton that he would be responsible for the deaths of every Englishman present if he continued to resist her. Braxton could have chosen death if it had only meant his own. But he could not claim to know if the other men felt the same way that he did. Perhaps they had sweet-hearts and wives and children that they supported by working at sea? And still, in his mind's confusion, Braxton's manhood responded to the hand rubbing his crotch.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
As she continued taunting him, her own words seemed to agitate Queen Rhene to take more action. She ripped away the last covering of his body and laid her hand upon him.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
This last bit, the edge of an Amazon's blade pressed to his throat, Wendell watched in mixed horror and admiration. He, also, had raised his voice in cheer for his queen and was briefly quite pleased with the effect that cheer had produced in this throne room. His immediate restraining and immanent execution should have been expected, but he had been proud of all of the Englishmen and he expected to take that pride with him in Heaven.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
But Queen Rhene had threatened to slay all of the Englishmen and Wendell did not think that Braxton could condemn these men as if he were their commander and that they soldiers whose lives belonged to him. <br/>
<br/>
<br/>
Wendell saw Braxton's expression become pained with the weight of the decision, whilst the queen who had said she would not obey him finally did obey him in the stripping that he had dared her to do. Braxton's huge cock, no sense in attempting to describe it in any genteel fashion, proudly sprang forward of his body. Wendell had only ever seen this monster in its flaccid state and now at seeing it aroused he might have whistled or cheered in appreciation if it were not for the knife at his throat.<br/>
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The throne room went silent. The other Englishmen, thought Wendell, likely could not see what had stupefied the faces of the Amazon queen and every Amazon with a frontal or side view of Braxton's nakedness. Queen Rhene had been looking into Braxton's face as she reached to grasp his cock. Wendell could tell that she now knew that she had grasped something much, much, larger than what she had expected to grasp.<br/>
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The Englishmen might have conquered the Amazons then and there, mused Wendell, but he could also see the shame and despair written on his dear friend's countenance. Wendell knew that Braxton viewed his own cock as a monstrous disfigurement and might have personally preferred to die. But it was because Braxton hadn't condemned, couldn't condemn, them all to die that Braxton had lost his will to fight. Also, like Queen Rhene had said, Braxton's body would betray him. Braxton let his head hang down in defeat, his face red with his failure, trying very hard not to weep.</span></span><br/><br/><br/><span style="font-size: 15px">X X X</span><br/><br/><br/><span style="font-family: 'Bad Script', 'cursive'"><span style="font-size: 18px">Rhene could feel as he grew against her touch. Skin tightening around muscle as it enlarged even more then it had been at its partially hardened state. It was far, far larger than any cock of the men of Siguran. Her body craved it, every part of her tingling with desire begging to be allowed to enjoy such a monster. It was near painful desire, it was as if the mere sight of a cock such as his had put her into heat. Her insides ached, her body soaked for him and a heartbeat was strong within her clit pounding away. She wasn't in heat, it was not quite so intense but intense enough to have a small whimper escaping the queen. Her body was at attention, small hardened mounds showed through the silk of her dress giving away her arousal to all that had a frontal view of herself.<br/>
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Her eyes finally dared to look down to the monster she had been taunting, and growing within her hands. A shaken breath escaping her lustful lips as she looked back at the man "~A beautiful cock" she stated as with her free hand she secured his wrists together behind his back with ease. Threatening the lives of his men perhaps would have sufficed in letting her do as she pleaded but there was no telling what he would do.<br/>
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"~Seems it will be more fun then I realised…" she trailed off. Rhene breathed out with a small smirk returning to her lips "~My ladies crave it as I do" Rhene informed him amusedly before looking over her shoulder to the ladies that remained, now shifting within their seats as their own bodies begged for attention. "~I wonder. Could you satisfy seven women?" she questioned "~Or would my ladies have to satisfy each other?".<br/>
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Rhene leaned in close to his ear, her lips brushing against his ear. "~Don't look so sad. Don't worry I won't let you cum. Your cock has already betrayed you plenty today, as it will tomorrow…" she taunted, speaking as if it would bring him relief to know such a thing. That she cared just how he felt… Though she cared very little. "~I'll stop, just before you fall into the pits of ecstasy. Afterall I would hate for a man of your stature to be watched as he released his load onto the floor of the Palais" her voice was a seductive whisper against his ear as her hand began to work his cock. Precum lubed her hand as she pumped the glorious monster, up and down, up and down. She could feel how it throbbed, twitched to her touch. With each pump of his magnificent her body begged harder. Her plan was a good one, but it was torturous for her. She wanted him. But she wanted to punish him. Fuck with his mind, make him beg. But in turn, perhaps she was fucking with her own mind and making her body beg just as she wanted him to.</span></span><br/><br/><br/><br/><span style="font-size: 15px">X X X</span><br/><br/><br/><span style="font-family: 'Georgia'"><span style="font-size: 18px">Queen Rhene seemed to pause and consider how else she might torment Braxton. He could do nothing but attempt to stand there as if nothing were wrong whilst his captor considered the state of his traitor body. Then she spoke softly and cruelly, "A beautiful cock", as if his ungodly defect were anything other than a devil's joke. Doctors who had examined Braxton had told him that they doubted any reasonable woman could envision accepting his manhood into her.<br/>
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The situation could not possibly have gotten any worse, thought Braxton, but he was wrong. He knew that Queen Rhene and the other Amazons were quite strong, as evidenced from their ability to rip the rugged sailors' clothing from the bodies of the Englishmen. Now, however, Braxton received more direct evidence of the giant womens' strength as the Amazon Queen used the hand that had been tickling his stomach to grab his wrists and hold his his hands in the area of the small of his back. Muscles much more powerful than his own easily posed him in the position desired by the Queen. He winced in unexpected pain, but the pain was short lived as his body felt sensations wholly different from arm pain.<br/>
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Then the Queen taunted him, claiming that she and her fellow oversized women would enjoy his sexual attentions, as if his deformity and sex were meant to be enjoyed. Braxton had been raised knowing that the purpose of sex was to procreate humans. If one enjoyed sex then the person was a whore or whoremonger, which was totally reprehensible. The size of his deformity only meant that she had much more sensitive flesh with which to torment him.<br/>
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He felt his manhood swell, becoming even more engorged and filled with blood like and elongated balloon but with more weight and stiffness under the attentions of the woman who had made him helpless with both her threats and her strength. She whispered in his ear, saying that she did not intend to shame him by spilling his seed on the floor and in front of witnesses. While she had stated this intention, the thought of such a thing happening horrified Braxton and he struggled in vain to escape the Queen's grip, but to naught.<br/>
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The hand that Queen Rhene had on his shaft moved the length of it, down to the end. Somehow (had some bit of his seed leaked?) that hand acquired some moisture and it encompassed around the shaft before moving as if it were polishing a brass rail, up and down, up and down…. Braxton could feel the beat of his heart coursing through it, throbbing, pulsing. His mind tried to divorce itself from the feel that the whole of his body was on fire, but he was failing.<br/>
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Wendell stared at how the Amazon leader worked at taking away all of his best friend's pride of being a man. It was a rape. He could bear no more and turned his head so that he would not see this crime against a man that he loved as a brother…. But the blonde Amazon with the knife at Wendell's throat saw his squeamishness and easily turned his head back in a direction to see Braxton's defilement. "~Watch!" she commanded him and he obeyed her. God have mercy on him, thought Wendell, as he watched Braxton and the Amazon Queen.<br/>
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Braxton began to lose control of his breathing. Instead of measured, strong and deep breaths, he began to pant and feel himself out of breath. <br/>
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"I cannot take much more…," he raggedly confessed. "I cannot stop myself… much longer." <br/>
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With his rational mind, Braxton tried biting his tongue and his lip as distraction, praying that Queen Rhene would stop stroking his erection before his seed shot forth out from him. But he could feel that mind slipping away as the baser human animal mind, caring only for pleasure, enjoyed the sensations of being sexually taken against the rational mind's will.<br/>
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He tried to turn his face to hers as he begged, "Please…. Stop…."<br/>
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Deep within Braxton, a cry of defeat and release threatened to break free….</span></span><br/><br/><br/><br/><span style="font-size: 15px">X X X</span><br/><br/><br/><span style="font-family: 'Bad Script', 'cursive'"><span style="font-size: 18px">Perhaps what she was doing could be considered vile, lacking all morals by modern standards and modern society. To anyone who did not live in Siguran it was a crime, and perhaps it was. But in Siguran it was one of the numerous ways the women showed their power, and often this very lewd scene could be a punishment for small crimes. Not that the men of Siguran considered it a crime, a Siguran woman touching them outside of her heat… It was heaven.<br/>
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Rhene continued to pump his cock in her hand, slow but firm as she massaged the cock her body ached and yearned for. Her desire perhaps was weakness, but it was also what fueled her. Fueled her as her hand rolled around the length, milking him. With each passing second Rhene noted how his breathing lost more and more control, as if he would forget to breathe before his body in a panic took another two breaths to replace the forgotten breath.<br/>
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It was then that the whiny, uncontrolled begging of the man she held in her hand found her ears. It was like music, listening to a man lose control. Before this particular man had come to the shore of Siguran, Rhene would have said there was no better sound than a woman reaching her climax. But as she watched and listened to this man in particular begin to peak, she decided that there was in fact no better sound than this man- this one right here that she pumped mercilessly, losing all control of himself.<br/>
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She had wanted to deny him orgasm, save his humiliation for another day. Yet, when he started to beg her to stop. Telling her that he couldn't-- Rhene decided to be evil. She slowed down her pumps of his cock, taking her time to pump him. Make every painful second that leads up to his release agonising. Would she stop?- He would never know.<br/>
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Soon she felt the familiar throbbing of his cock, the twitching- his breathing reaching its peak. She slowed to nearly a complete stop. But it was a trick. As her hand moved up… Then back down… Then stopped.<br/>
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"~I said I wouldn't let you cum" Rhene whispered, then her hand moved again rubbing his cock up and then down--. A splash of white shot out and painted the sandstone floor in front of his feet, followed by another as Rhene continued to stroke him up and down.<br/>
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"~Aw" she cooed "~I'm sorry" her apology whispered with a smirk as she continued to milk the monster of a cock until she was left with a twitching mess of a cock in her hand. And a mess of milky white seed in front of them. <br/>
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Pulling her hand from his cock, Rhene released his arms. Before turning to Zya who now cupped the second man's head with one had to force him to watch the scene that had played out, and one hand still on the blade that threatened to kill the man where he kneeled.<br/>
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"~I do hope you enjoyed the show" she smirked. "~Maybe next time it'll be me on show and he'll make me a mess…".</span></span><br/><br/><br/><br/><span style="font-size: 15px">X X X</span><br/><br/><br/><span style="font-family: 'Georgia'"><span style="font-size: 18px">Braxton's body shook with force and he could not stop a ragged cry of erotic release as Queen Rhene successfully urged his body to pump out his manly seed. She maintained her grip on his shamefully monstrous manhood and continued the firm stroking motion that had made him come undone. The post climax sensitivity of his manhood was maddening as she milked him like a farmer might milk a cow. He shuddered uncontrollably until she was satisfied that she had taken all the seed that Braxton was currently capable of giving.<br/>
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His captor taunted Wendell, after Braxton had been forced to climax. The blonde Amazon slightly relaxed her grip and Wendell was allowed to briefly look away. He was experiencing his own humiliating defeat. The Amazon Queen had unashamedly dealt a blow to Braxton's pride by forcing his body to climax, against Braxton's will, in front of a room full of men and Amazon women. Wendell's own personal shame being that the lurid event had caused his own naked cock to swell to his full eight inches, which was maybe only half the size of Braxton's monster. If this ordeal had broken Braxton's will, then what possible hope could Wendell have of maintaining his sense of self?<br/>
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Queen Rhene released Braxton's arms and the man struggled to remain standing. Wendell watched Braxton's body shake in the aftermath of the encounter. His dear friend trying to choke back what some would call unmanly sobs. However, Wendell doubted that he, or any other man that he knew, could have acted any better than Braxton had acted. <br/>
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Still, although Braxton had been defeated this time and he was openly crying over this defeat, with some part of his mind cursing him for naively believing that Queen Rhene might actually show him some mercy by not forcing him to climax in front of the other men and her women, another part of that same mind refused to give in to the despair that openly gripped him during this ordeal. This part of Braxton's mind urged him to cease crying and become stronger. While it was difficult, Braxton soon recovered some small piece of his of self-identity. However, he did not yet openly act as if was ready for a rematch with the Queen. He wasn't ready for that and he knew it. For now, he allowed himself to sob, to feel hurt and ill-used.</span></span>