Warrior Women:
RITE OF PASSION
By
Madelyn Porter
© copyright November 2004, Madelyn Porter
Cover art by Eliza Black, © copyright November 2004
New Concepts Publishing
Lake Park, GA 31636
www.newconceptspublishing.com
This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author’s imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.
Dedication:
To Tempest, my critique partner. Thanks for keeping me sane.
Chapter One
Shana of Themis took a deep breath and thought, Here we go again.
Shana was an Amazonian warrior--tall, slender, strong. She liked fighting, liked manning the starships, liked adventure and freedom. It was why she resented being forced into motherhood. She’d known all her life that the time would come for her to get with child. Time had not brought her acceptance of the role, in fact, she’d volunteered for several dangerous missions just to put the event off.
With her waist length brown hair and her round blue eyes, she knew she was considered beautiful to humanoid males. In fact, because of this beauty, they seemed to think her less of a warrior. It was a logic she couldn’t understand.
Her body was muscled from years of exercise, and she moved with a lithe grace and elegance from that training. Her breasts were full, with dark nipples, ones the men liked to touch for some reason. After the first two child giver prisoners had stared incoherently at them, she’d covered her breasts up to hide them from view. Beauty held little place in Amazonian society.
The Amazons were a class of women, warriors first and foremost, though some chose to be farmers and laborers. They were self-sufficient, bold. If men were allowed to stay with them, they were no better than slaves--preparing food, cleaning, sewing, orally attending to his mistress’ pleasure when called upon. A man’s place was kneeling before his mistress. If not for their one great purpose, giving children, the women of Cherron might not have bothered with men at all.
Shana preferred fighting, for it was better than being stuck nurturing a babe or toiling away in the fields. Frowning, she looked at the metal door leading to male prisoner 564. The door was just one in a long line down the metal corridor.
This was her nineteenth effort to conceive a child. The eighteen men who’d come before 564 had failed to get her pregnant. According to Amazonian law, she had to try at least twenty times before she was officially discharged of the motherhood duty. Shana planned on being discharged.
It was evening on Cherron, sister planet to Earth. Long ago, their race of women warriors came to the planet and set up their own civilization, using portals to go to Earth to find warriors on the male dominated planet for breeding purposes. Now, with the universe more open, they didn’t have to go to Earth to find men. They could kidnap them from starships, or lure them with false signals of distress. Men always seemed to fall for the little woman needs help routine.
Male slaves were too small to be much good to them as child givers, but their mouths worked just fine when it came to oral stimulation. Of course, it was illegal for the favor to be returned, and such pleasure could only be begotten twice a season from a single slave. It kept the women from bonding with their slaves, and kept the slaves from becoming possessive. If a slave, who had the right to refuse giving oral service, was caught giving more than his share, he was immediately executed.
The Amazons needed strong, warrior males with good human genes to breed with, to keep their race strong and superior. And, thanks to genetic manipulations, all babies were now female. To keep from forming attachments to child givers, they were only allowed to sleep with a prisoner one time before moving onto the next captive. Once a man succeeded in impregnating a woman, they were often killed. It wouldn’t do if a woman became too attached to the father of her child, or for there to be competition.
Shaman Cyrsten had instigated the ritual killings nearly thirty years before, after her daughter ran away with a child giver. Cyrsten was said to have hunted down her daughter and her daughter’s lover, slaying them in their bed. It served as a great warning to those who would try to find love.
Shana didn’t want love. She didn’t feel the need for it. Whatever desires she had could easily be found on her own.
But, she also didn’t like the ritual killings. She much preferred it when the men were drugged and let go, as in the old days. Or rather, she’d choose to go back to the ancient ways--sending their virgins out to encampments of men, breeding, and running away. Back then, they used to drop off any male children to their fathers and keep the females in their tribes.
Looking down at her body, she waited for the guard to open the metal door. Her white gown hung limply over her form, hiding its curves from view. She took a deep breath, having timed exactly about how long she’d need to stay in the room before she could leave and not draw suspicion.
Suddenly, a click sounded and she looked up. The door slid up and Shana stepped inside the cell. Another click sounded and the door silently closed.
The prison quarters were all the same. A bed was set up in the middle of the room, a man strapped to the top. His wrists were bound to his sides, so he couldn’t fight, and his ankles were tied together, keeping his legs straight. It’d been found that men didn’t need their limbs to be aroused. In fact, many of them needed little more than visual stimulation--thus why Shana covered her figure with the ugly gown.
Walking over to the table, she eyed the large naked man. He was well formed and she could just imagine the pleasure she would’ve had meeting him on the field of battle. She itched to let him go, to give him a sword, and see what he could do with it.
The prisoner’s thighs were strong, thick with muscles. His arms were the same, bulging in a way a woman’s never could. She tried to be dispassionate as she eyed his dark skin, his lean hips, his limp member nestled in dark hair. She only had eighteen to compare it to, but it looked larger than the others. It was of no concern to her. She wouldn’t be taking it inside.
Tilting her head, her face was dispassionate as she walked around him, looking him over as if he were a horse used for breeding. It was about the same thing, only the Amazonian respected and liked horses. He had good features--very masculine in appearance. His shaved jaw was almost square, his cheekbones chiseled and defined. He had dark hair, cut short, graying at the temples. She guessed by his features that he was about thirty five years. His deep-set eyes were closed to her and she knew he slept.
Stopping at his feet, she continued to stare. If ever she did want a man, she imagined he’d be her choice. He smelled good, a faint trace of human cologne. Usually she liked the smell of sweat and nature, not artificial fragrance, but on him it seemed fitting.
A knock sounded on the metal door and Shana turned to see the face peering in through the window. The guard’s eyes were stern and Shana nodded once in her direction. The guard would be back to check on her in ten minutes so she’d better get started. Turning back to the prisoner, she froze. Bright green eyes stared at her, making her instantly numb. Now that was a strange reaction to have. She looked down at her chest. Her nipples were tingling--also very strange.
"564," Shana stated, her voice even, hard. "You have been given your pills?"
The man continued to stare at her. His lips curled slightly at the side. A jolt went through her system, making cream drip down her thighs. She knew what the reaction was, but she’d only had it alone after prodding her body to respond, or using a slave’s tongue. Never had a man’s look done it to her.
"I’ll tell you, like I told the others, baby doll," the prison
er stated. His low voice was like silk, making more cream build. Shana looked down her body, not giving anything away in her expression. "Let me go, or you’ll be sorry. I’ve no wish to be a daddy."
Captain James Alexander eyed the trim beauty before him. Lucky for him, these women spoke his language, and he’d overheard their plans. Answering a distress call on their way back from a mission, he’d transported himself and two others down to the planet to help out, unaware that it would be a trap.
They’d been there for three days, and he’d not seen his men, Lt. Commanders, Mitchell and Adrian. After several women made him bathe, their doctors thoroughly examined him, checking him for diseases and giving him an antidote for his military issued birth control.
Then, while he was strapped to a table much like the one he was on, the female doctors rubbed and pulled on his cock with their hands to make sure he could get hard, fondling and measuring his balls until he was mad with the need to shower his hot cum all over them. Bitches had left him like that too, without release. Whatever they’d found, they must have needed a second and third opinion, because that’s how many times they did it. Hell, the third time, the woman had used her mouth on him, sucking him hard like he was a straw. She seemed into it too, and he’d thrust himself up into her tight lips, sure that she’d drink him down good, until they were interrupted.
Eyeing the beautiful woman before him now, he knew if this woman did it to him for a fourth time, he’d be mad enough to break through his metal bindings and strangle her. He felt his cock twitch just looking at her. Damn, she had lush lips, just made for sucking a man. She covered her body, which was strange. Most of the women he’d seen had worn next to nothing--loincloths around their sexy hips and cloth or metal bodices covering just their breasts. In any other circumstance, this planet would be the ultimate male fantasy.
"What do you gals have against men anyway?" he asked, unable to help the question. "Scared you might actually like one of us?"
"Men serve one purpose for us," the woman answered. Her beautiful blue eyes watched him carefully. Her tone was flat, even, serious. Didn’t these women know how to laugh? Smile? Hell, he’d settle for an expression other than blank. "They are seed carriers."
"Seed carriers?" James repeated, shaking his head. "Baby doll, you need to get out more. Men have a better purpose to women than that."
"Yes, I know. The small ones make nice house servants," the woman said. She stepped closer to him, turning to eye the door.
James grimaced. She was serious.
"You are formed well," she said, with a nod of approval.
James blinked in surprise. That was the closest thing he’d gotten to a compliment since his arrival.
"Are you a warrior?" she asked.
"You could say that." He gave her a cocky grin, unable to help himself.
"How many territories have you taken?" she asked.
"Territories?" James shook his head. "Sorry, baby doll, but I don’t take territories. I help people."
Her brow furrowed in confusion. Her arms rose to her sides so he could inspect her. "I am not a baby. I am grown."
"I can see that." His voice dipped. He didn’t know what it was about her, but the blood rushed from his head to his groin. It could’ve been the unreleased desire that made him so hard, so fast, or it could’ve been the way she stared at him, eyeing him as she would a fine painting, taking in every detail of his form. James knew he was of an impressive size. Most women would blush in embarrassment when looking at his hard cock. She just blinked, nodded, and kept a blank face. If he’d been a weaker man, he’d have crumbled in embarrassment.
"We should begin," she stated, glancing again at the door. She dug her hand into her pocket, taking out one small green pill and one white, and seemed to debate between the two. Then, putting the white back in her pocket, she lifted the green one up. Walking over to him, she ordered, "Open your mouth."
James pressed his lips tightly together and refused, grimacing.
"It will ease you," she said. "Trust me."
His brow rose at that.
"It will take your seed from you," she allowed.
"I’d much rather you do that," he managed from the side of his lips.
Shana eyed the man, glancing towards the door. Damn, he would have to be one of the stubborn ones. Knowing he’d need more persuasion, she took off her gown and stood before him naked. Just like the others, he instantly looked at her large breasts. Only, unlike the others, her dark nipples were hard for him.
Shana had planned on sleeping with the last man, but after examining this one’s girth, she knew he’d be a good candidate for the job. With a cock that size, he’d stretch her passage wide and put a definite end to her maidenhead. The doctors would have no doubts she’d taken all twenty men, when in fact she’d taken none of them.
The others had been given the white pill, to give them dreams of sex without the experience. She’d done pushups, breaking a sweat and becoming flushed, before leaving past the guard. The green pill would take away James’ fertility. Originally, she planned on child giver number twenty ending her maidenhead for her, but as she looked at 564, she grew warm. And, worse than that, she was actually curious to feel him.
"I need you to take this pill before I put you inside me. You said you have no wish to give me a child, so take it," she whispered. Her blue eyes turned pleading, but she didn’t care. She let the mask of emotionless calm they wore for the prisoners from her features. "For I have no wish to bear a child."
"Is that all you’re worried about?" He grinned, making her heart flip flop. "Just hop on for the ride, baby doll. When I tell you I’m coming, pull off."
"There can be no mess," she whispered. "Take the pill, 564."
"The name’s James, baby doll," he answered.
"I do not care," she answered, frowning. She shook the green pill at him. "Take the pill."
"Tell me your name first," he insisted.
"I am Shana of Themis," Shana lifted her head proudly. "Warrior Commander of the Red Guard, Handmaid twelve to Empress Kali, Third--"
"Oh, okay there, Shana, I get it," James interrupted. He dutifully opened his mouth and she dropped the pill in. However, when she turned to the side to glance at the door, he spit it out onto the floor.
James didn’t trust her, couldn’t trust her. When she turned back, he pretended to swallow the pill. She sighed in relief and nodded at him.
"How do you … wish this?" she asked, eyeing his hard cock.
James’ stomach tightened. How did he want her? Hell, where did he start? His eyes dipped over her fine curves. She was tall, slender, toned. Damn he’d bet he could bend and turn her in deliciously wicked ways. A woman in her kind of shape would have stamina too. He’d bet she’d go all night. What he wouldn’t give to have her tied to the bed instead of him, her legs forced wide so he could lick up her cream, thrust his cock first into her tight pussy, then her tighter ass.
"I get a choice?" he asked, licking his lips and looking down at the apex of her thighs. Soft curls grew there, damp with her desire.
James knew he needed release. He could barely think straight as it was. After the torture of the three doctors, he was so tense his cock felt as if it would implode. Eyeing the pretty woman, he decided he really did want to take his release with her. Once that was out of the way, he’d start working on her for an escape.
The Captain grinned, liking this idea more and more. If he could make her come so hard, harder than any man ever had before, perhaps he could persuade her to help him, or trick her into freeing him with the promise of more pleasure. His eyes roamed over her. He was going to enjoy this.
Shana looked unsure and then nodded. "Hurry, before the guard comes."
"Then untie me and let me go, so that I may pleasure you."
Chapter Two
Shana blinked, looking at him. "I can’t do that."
"It was worth a try," he answered, grinning wickedly, almost amused, as if he was enjoying him
self. Shana felt bad. He obviously didn’t know about the ritual killings after conception, or else he’d not be so willing. Well, none of the prisoners really knew about the killings. Most Amazons were almost ashamed to talk about it amongst themselves, let alone with the condemned.
A knock sounded on the door and the guard frowned in at them from a little window. Shana’s cheeks flushed and she quickly reached forward to grab James’ stiff cock before turning around to the door. James groaned loudly, jerking in surprise, as she pumped her hand over his dick. She frowned at the guard in annoyance, stroking his hot length in her palm as if she’d been doing it all along. The guard smiled and nodded, looking apologetic for the intrusion. The woman licked her lips, watching a moment more, before turning around to leave.
"That was close," Shana swore softly, removing her hand.
"Ah," James protested. His lids were heavy when she looked at him and he was breathing hard. "Don’t stop, baby doll, keep going."
Shana blinked in surprise, hesitating. As a woman, she was used to receiving pleasure from a man. Since the slaves couldn’t be given pleasure in return, but had to take care of themselves afterwards, she’d never actually stroked one to give a man pleasure. She moved her hand to take him, paying attention to the texture of him as she began to caress. He was hot, smooth, oddly firm as she squeezed.
"Ah, shit, honey, not so hard," he hissed in protest. Shana loosened her grip, wrapping her fingers lightly over his erection, working her hand up and down in a steady rhythm. "That’s it, oh yeah, slow it down just a little."
James’ hands strained against his restraints, his arms flexing and pulling tight in a glorious show of strength. Shana’s body was already wet, and watching him pull and thrust against her hand excited her more. She forgot the guard, forgot why she was there.
Sweat beaded her brow. She wanted more. She wanted to know what it was like to have him inside her. Letting go, she stated, "You are ready."
Rite of Passion Page 1
