Ill Met in Andahar
By Madcat
Two innocent  sort of  girls must battle the forces of darkness to save their city.


Natina moved with dazzling quickness, forcing her male foe to miss by the
narrowest margins. He cursed, swung his sword again but met with even less
success.

The thief, better known as the Black Panther, ducked and came up with her
short sword. Its tip penetrated his mail armor. She drove it up into his
chest, while her hand covered his mouth. Natina forced the larger man into the
wall and waited for him to die. It didn't take him very long.

She hoped that no one had heard. After all, it had been a quick and quiet
kill. But a sudden clapping told her that she wasn't alone.

"Very good! Very Good!" a man said from the exit of the anteroom.
Unfortunately, he was not alone. Another guard stood by him. Natina noted two
more blocking the entrance. By Marduk, she had screwed this one up but good.

"Kill him!" the guy in charge ordered. He was obviously in the dark, as was
the rest of the city, as to the sex of the notorious Black Panther.

Natina kept this secret even from her guild masters. Most of the time, she
performed as a circus performer, acrobat and dancer. But once a month or so,
the pretty little brunette would do what she loved the most: steal. Being a
good thief meant keeping a low profile. If word got out that the Black Panther
was female, she would be on a very short list of potential suspects. As it
was, nobody had a clue.

The three guards approached with great reluctance. None wanted to be the first
to engage a swordsman like the Black Panther. The thief's skill with the blade
was legendary. Their plan amounted to trying to get one guy to impale himself
on the Black Panther's sword first, so the other two could chop him up.

Their foe engaged them with blinding speed. She threw her short sword at the
male guard advancing from the exit. He wore a full mail coat which would have
deflected the toss had it not taken him in the throat. The man fell to his
knees, grabbing at the blade. One down, two to go.

Natina whirled on the other two and drew her twin scimtars. Her black cloak
fluttered behind her. A well trained eye could have detected the thief's true
sex. No clothing could hide the young dancer's generous curves but the men had
other issues to worry about, mainly survival. They rushed their enemy.

She danced to her right, using one foe to obstruct the other. He chopped at
her with his heavier blade, one designed to hack thru chain mail. Her crossed
swords came up as if to block the clumsy attack. Instead they took the man on
his wrist, neatly severing it. Natina's back stroke mercifully slashed the
man's neck. He died in fountain of blood. It was one on one now.

The last guard proved to be more adept with the blade. His skill bought him a
couple of seconds of life. The female drove him back across the room with a
series of fast attacks. He parried them skillfully but the male could sense he
was over matched. Seeing an opening, he thrust. It was a ruse. Natina stepped
behind the guard and hamstrung him. The male started to fall but the
surprisingly strong girl caught his armored body and finished him with a quick
slash to the neck.

Her male victims now cluttered the floor. The Black Panther shook her head in
disgust. She didn't like to slay, but having grown up mainly on the hard
streets of Andahar, Natina understood the law of survival: kill or be killed.
The girl pointed one blade at the man in charge.

"Drop your blade and I'll spare your life." She ordered in a female baritone.
To the female thief, men were weak and cowardly creatures. If it wasn't for
that thing between their legs, they would be entirely useless.

But this man laughed at her. "I just wanted to see the legend at work. I
wanted to see if you are as good as they say." He said, advancing with his
long cavalry saber already drawn.

Add foolish to that long list of masculine deficiencies, Natina thought to
herself. "Have you seen nothing here? Are you so quick to throw your life
away." She replied, noting his handsome hawkish face and lean body.

"I am Argan, sword master of the Zin and the best blade in Andahar. It is I
who trapped you young thief." Zin replied, raising his sword. "I commissioned
this job of yours. There is no Eye of the Serpent for you to steal. I brought
you here to rid Andahar and the temples of their worst enemy. The priests pay
very well."

Andahar boasted a dozen major temples and a host of smaller ones. Religion was
one of the cities major businesses and a favorite target of the city's army of
thieves. Natina cursed at the thought of being set up. The thieves' guild was
supposed to vet such jobs and weed out crap like this. Someone there had
screwed up, or worse, was in on it. In the end, you just can't trust a thief.

"Prepare to die, sword master." The Black Panther hissed. Kill this one man
and she could quickly put this in the past.

Their swords met in a furious flash of steel. The fighters gingerly stepped
over the dead guards as they thrust and parried. Much to Natina's dismay, this
man matched her speed stroke for stroke. To her utter surprise, this mere male
appeared to be her equal!

Then this dastardly swordsman stepped up and shouldered the comely wench. It
took her by complete surprise. Given that the male stood a head taller and
possessed a muscular build, the shoulder butt threw the busty little lass
backward. Argan followed up with an overhead chop designed to split his foe
from head to navel.

Reacting purely on instinct, the girl threw herself back and spread her arms,
hoping against hope to avoid the blow. His sword tip narrowly passed her nose,
leaving it unscathed. Natina's bosom was not so lucky. With her back arched,
they stuck out like two ripe tomatoes. The man's blade caught her tunic right
between her breasts and ripped it open, spilling the beans so to speak.

He was but mildly surprised at this unforeseen event. "Hee, hee. What have we
here? The Black Panther is but a woman." Argan said, displaying a commonly
held Andaharian prejudice.

The unveiling infuriated the female. She attacked immediately, slashing in a
whirl of steel.

He let her come, retreating across the room. Just as Natina though she had the
man on the defensive, his heavy sword shot out and blocked hers. A clang of
steel rang out as the girl lost the hold on her right scimitar. But not to
worry! She had one in her left. And the man's middle lay wide open.

Argan's kick though spoiled her plans. It came out of no where, burying itself
in her own unprotected middle. Natina's nubile young body crumbled.

Everybody eventually meets their maker. The Black Panther had sent dozens on
that path personally. Now it was her turn. She prepared herself for the
killing blow. But it didn't come. A fist did instead, dropping the comely lass
to her knees.

The male had seen too much. Of her chest, that is. She possessed a perfect
pairing of pair shaped breasts. He now had an alternate plan for the buxom
young thief. In addition, Argan couldn't wait to see the expression on the
King's face when he saw that the dreaded Black Panther was but a girl. You had
to have a sense of humor to stay sane in a city like Andahar.

He kicked the female's remaining scimitar from her hand. She was good and it
didn't pay to take chances. Incredibly, the wench struggled to stand, defiance
still burning in her blue eyes. Argan ripped off her cloak form behind.

The topless female spun to face him, her firm yet heavy bosom bobbing
pleasantly. He couldn't help but notice that the Panther's bronzed nipples had
gone hard.

"You don't know when to give up do you?" Argan chided her. This fight had long
since ended in his mind.

But not in hers. Natina responded by springing at the male swordsman like her
name sake, the panther.

He could have run the wench thru but that would have spoiled his fun. Instead
he grabbed her wrists, intending to drive her back to the wall, subduing this
vibrant and beautiful woman. It should have been child's play. After all,
Argan weighed almost twice that of the girl. Somehow that didn't happen. The
two stood toe to toe in the middle of the room.

Natina never gave up, ever. Her young body, trained for dance and gymnastics,
possessed unparalleled strength. Sensuous female muscles danced up and down
her sweet torso as she grabbed his sword arm. Eliminate the weapon and she
could even the odds, the girl thought.

The male watched in horror as his sword began to descend. Argan couldn't
believe his own eyes. This little she-devil was overpowering him. Then her
knee flashed up, slamming into his sword hand. The big cavalry saber clattered
to the ground.

But Argan also broke his hand free. He answered with a right cross. It caught
the big breasted brunette on the chin. The room suddenly went dark.

"Where am I?" Natina asked her eyes fluttering open. She looked up to see
Argan sitting next to her, a damp rag in his hand. He gently dabbed her face.

"You are my guest." The male replied. He wore a skimpy singlet (little more
than a mini-skirt) that was common for men in Andahar.

The buxom lass looked down to see herself nude except for a black thong
bracketing her most powerful loins. For some odd reason she had hands above
her head. But when she tried to move them, she couldn't. Ditto that for her
muscular legs. The bastard had tied her spread eagle to the bed.

"Then why am I tied up?" the girl shot back nastily.

"Because you are far too dangerous to set free."

"What are you going to do with me?" Natina inquired almost passively. It was a
fair question. Andaharians had a very limited sense of justice. She was a
defeated foe. He was the conqueror and could with her as he pleased.

"I will make love to you all night long and into the morning. And then I shall
take you, queen of thieves, to see my master, the King of Andahar." The man
said, kneading her soft, womanly bosom.

A sweet moan escaped her lips. Natina found herself strangely attracted to
this man. Not that she wouldn't kill him at the drop of a hat, but that did
little to curb her erotic desires. Such was the way of romance in this ancient
and decadent kingdom. A woman had to take what she could get. And if she was
to be executed in the morning, then why not go out with a bang.

Across the vast city of sun baked buildings, a card game took place. Five
burly halberdiers from the 9th regiment and one lanky, cunning young
gentleman.

"Are you in or out?" the young noble said to Greta with thinly veiled disgust.

She was used to such things as the only female halberdier in the 9th.

"What's your play, white bitch?" the gambler spat out. He was young, rich and
rakishly handsome.

Greta swallowed hard at the insult. As a barbarian from the frozen north, she
had grown accustomed to such slurs. The tall blonde wanted to stay in. She had
a good hand and beating this noble jerk-off would be fun. A voice in the back
of her head told Greta to quit. Call it female intuition, but she always
listened.

"I fold." The blonde said, tossing in a full house. Greta and her four
colleagues from the 9th regiment wore their liveried colors: red and white.

One of the halberdiers stayed in and they both drew. Somehow the gambler drew
4 of a kind and beat the soldier's flush.

"Sorry about your luck." The young gambler said with a smile. He was anything
but. The rake had already taken most of their last month's pay.

Tomas, the loosing halberdier, grabbed the winner's outstretched arm. "Screw
you, you're cheating." The soldier hissed venomously.

Greta shot out of her chair with the catlike quickness that had served her so
well on the battlefield. In many ways, Andahar could be so much more
dangerous. Tomas was probably right. She had come to much the same conclusion.
If the gambler was cheating, then there would be others in on it, namely the
proprietor of this beer joint. A rich, well heeled gentleman would likely have
other ruffians in his employ. This could get real ugly, real fast.

In many ways, Greta served as a mom to the 9th regiment, or perhaps the better
word would be guardian angel. While she could hold a halberd with the
strongest of men, the tall blonde took care of her boys on and off the
battlefield. She cooked, cleaned, healed and occasionally bedded them. It just
seemed natural for the 9th regiment's only female.

The other men followed suit, a full step behind the faster female. Only one
male, a fellow northerner named Thorim, stood as tall as the girl. The rest
barely measured up to her chin.

"Gentleman, let's not ... " Greta started.

"Shut it, barbarian whore, this man insulted me and he's goin' pay." The
gambler said, drawing his cold steel a foot out of the scabbard.

This was a time honored signal. If Tomas did likewise, then there would be a
duel to the death. Greta was under no delusion who the winner would be. Tomas
was a fine halberdier and soldier, but couldn't cut his way out of a paper
bag. The nobleman, obviously well trained, would slice her friend to pieces
with his fine Stygian blade.

Sadly, she knew Tomas well, having bedded the hot headed soldier a couple of
times. He immediately drew his blade, sealing his fate. Why did men have to be
so stupid?

Greta wasted no time swinging into action. While the big girl respected the
rules of men, she also knew that rules were made to be broken. With his
attention turned, Greta drove her fist into the gambler's stomach. The
unfortunate male doubled over as the big blonde picked him up, flipped him and
smashed the rake down on to the card table. It buckled under the ferocious
impact.

"Let's beat it, lads." Greta suggested forcefully.

You could have heard a pin drop in the bar for a fraction of a second. None of
the patrons expected to see the gambler so roughly handled by a mere woman. He
was one of the most dangerous men in the city and a well fed nobleman to boot.
But the big blonde barbarian girl flattened him in mere seconds.

Her boys showed no surprise over the gambler's sudden demise. They knew Greta
could hold her own with any man in the regiment. Quietly, they often wondered
to themselves if she wasn't the toughest and strongest, for none had ever seen
her bested in combat or a test of strength. Thankfully, Greta knew her place.
The girl stayed out of their wrestling, boxing and weightlifting contests. She
was more than happy to let the boys be boys.

But when the soldiers made a break for the door, a barroom brawl erupted.
Bouncers, patrons and thugs attacked the hapless halberdiers.

Greta, owing to her superior speed and strength managed to bull her way
outside, but none of her buddies made it. What was a girl to do? Her boys
wouldn't stand a chance against this band of ruffians without her help. The
voice in the back of her head told her to go get the captain. He could sort
out this mess. But some or all of her friends could be dead by then.

The girl charged back in, running over the same guy she hit on the way out.
Another fellow whirled and took a punch at Greta. It hit her squarely on the
chin but the blonde barbarian didn't go down. She got mad instead, leveling
the unfortunate thug with a strong right hook.

Another man leapt at her from behind, brandishing a club. Greta spun just in
the nick of time, grabbed the club and kneed the thug in the nuts. His body
seemed to lift into the air before collapsing. Men could be painfully stupid
at times.

That went double for the fat man that grabbed her from behind. "I got the
barbarian bitch." He boasted as clasped the girl in a reverse bear hug. Then
the man screamed as Greta broke two of his fingers. She finished him with an
uppercut.

The futile male resistance at the door delayed the girl long enough. When
Greta turned, she found that the gambler and his rent-a-thugs had subdued her
boys. All were down except for Tomas. The rakish noble held him at sword
point. That pampered prince must be tougher than she thought.

"Ah, the barbarian bitch has returned." The swordsman said, swinging his blade
towards the new threat.

It was a ruse and poor Tomas bit on it. The foolish soldier charged the
gambler who impaled him unceremoniously thru the stomach.

Greta gasped and lunged at her foe. There weren't many folks left standing in
the bar by this time. Those not involved had beat feet. It left the gambler,
the owner and a couple of bully boys, none of whom were eager to engage the
female fighter. Essentially it was Greta versus the gambler now.

The male spun with impossible speed. He yanked his slim blade free of the
dying Tomas and pointed it at the big blonde. Only her lightening reflexes
saved her from ending up like her friend.

"Uh-oh, did I just kill someone you cared for?" the nobleman teased her. "Your
lover perhaps?"

She growled angrily in response, circling the male, looking for a weak spot.

"What did he ever see in a big, fat cow like you?" the male mused. "Let's see,
shall we."

He made a fast downward slash, missing the girl. Or did he? It left a gaping
whole down the middle of her uniform. Greta, like any girl, felt alarm at
possibly being stripped in a room full of strange men. She recoiled only to
get another slash just above her full bosom.

Greta's uniform was big, bulky and ill-fitting. The arms and thighs featured
lots of ruffles. It may have looked good on men, but it did nothing for the
big blonde except make her look fat. The gambler's words cut deeper than his
blade. Greta never wanted to be big and strong. She never wanted to be the
best wrestler and hunter in her old village. She never wanted to be a
halberdier, but they were the only folks that took in outcasts and dregs like
her.

She wanted to be small and dainty like the city women she commonly saw. She
wanted to loved and cherished. Hell, Greta even admired the whores and camp
followers that accompanied her regiment. It was something that she could never
be.

Now, as the young filly looked down at her firm, full and very bare breasts,
she got mad, very-very mad, and it didn't pay to make Greta angry. The men
were laughing at her now. Even her fellow halberdiers joined in the male
revelry, looking at her nakedness lustily and smiling.

"Not bad for a barbarian. Too bad I have to kill you now." The young and
handsome noble announce. He lunged and struck nothing but air.

His sword tip just missed her big firm breasts as she twisted. Moving with
incredible speed, her hand seized his wrist. A split second later Greta's
other hand closed on his throat. The gambler was dead. He just didn't know it
yet.

He was a big man, almost as tall as Greta, but the busty blonde crushed him
like a bug. Imbued with almost super human power, she snapped his wrist,
causing his sword to clatter noisily off the floor as it fell. The gambler
followed it moments later, his neck broken.

None of the other men moved to help him. This buxom woman was a devil or witch
or something. They all took a collective step back.

"Who's next?" The man-eater hissed.

"I am." Said a proud voice from the doorway.

Topless Greta spun about, her hard pink nipples leading the way. She wanted to
kill these newcomers, such was her bezerker rage. Instead, Greta found herself
staring at the captain of the guard, flanked by two deadly crossbowmen. Bare
chested, their bolts could punch right thru her. She didn't have a chance.

Rolf took the infamous Black Panther before his lord, the King of Andahar. He
had dressed the comely wench as a common slave girl: a black thong, a see thru
cotton dress and his collar. Her sultry body looked nothing less than heavenly
in the outfit. Only Natina's bulging biceps and thick thighs hinted at her
alter-ego. Those features were easily lost amongst her other nubile charms. A
pair of manacles bound the girl's hands. Rolf wasn't stupid.

This was all part of his devious plan. Rolf would ask the king to pardon this
wench and render her unto him. Their night together had outstripped his
wildest fantasies. He wanted the girl, more than anything.

She seemed to sense this. Looking down, playing the nubile slave chick, Natina
asked softly, "What will they do to me?"

Rolf grinned back at her. "Let's see. You've killed dozens of the king's men,
stolen his treasure, embarrassed him, and insulted his gods. Gosh, what do you
think he'll do?"

The girl stopped in the doorway of the great hall and stuck out her firm and
round breasts. They shimmered like ripe apples in the torch light. "So there's
no hope then?"

His heart softened a bit. "There is a chance. Being a girl will make this
embarrassing for the king and his temples. No one can afford to look weak in
Andahar. He may be willing to cut a deal. I promise to keep you chained up and
he might let you live out your days."

"Yeah, as your sex slave." She thought to herself. Natina was a consummate
performer and kept her true feelings hidden behind a veil of femininity. She
wanted to live, but being a slave lacked any appeal. Perhaps it would be
better to die with her thong on. The girl just nodded as she weighed her
options.

Rolf escorted the sexy thief into the great hall. Built thousands of years
ago, this marvel of ancient architecture never failed to impress. Natina
walked in slowly, her eyes taking in the great arched ceiling, frescoes, and
the myriad of servants and guards. Then she saw him.

The King was just as impressive as his hall. Trained from birth to rule this
unruly kingdom, he sat on his throne flanked by two sexy slave girls. The man
was big and strong, built to look like a god. This was no accident. He wore a
simple doublet and a gold crown upon his head. His thick arms bulged with
tanned muscle as did his legs and shoulders. The king also served as Marduk's
high priest and regent on earth. Thus, he had his body shaved smooth from head
to toe.

"What have you brought me today, Rolf. Not another slave girl, I hope. My
harem is full already and I haven't the time to keep all of these ladies
satisfied." The king joked as he stood up and approached. His feet thudded
heavily on the stone floor.

Something about the king's demeanor caused the sword master's hair to rise.
This king may have looked like a burly muscle-headed dolt, but the man was
sharp, too sharp.

"This is our infamous Black Panther. I have caught her." Rolf boasted.

"I know, sword master, I know. Nothing happens in this castle I don't know
about. I also know you took her to your bed last night, contrary to your
orders." The king said with his arms crossed over his massive torso. His eyes
literally devoured the buxom beauty.

As her eyes did him. The king was little more than a boy but most handsome in
a savage, bullish kind of way. His doublet bulged provocatively around his
loins, showing that he was indeed a potent monarch.

"But sire ... "

"But nothing. My spies knew of this hours ago. Sadly, I'm not the only man
with spies in this place. Before the sun sets, the whole city will know that
the Black Panther was but a woman. I will be a laughing stock." The king
hissed. His voice was low, controlled and dripping with royal malice.

"Sire, I ... "

"You fucked up. Had you brought her to me immediately, I could have executed
any servants who witnessed the event. We could have kept our little secret.
Now I must kill her by my own hand." The beefy male turned and shouted,
"Sword!"

A servant came running with a big curved blade. The king turned to Rolf. "Give
her your sword."

"I - I don't understand." The sword master replied.

"Give her your sword. I can't kill her unarmed. Everyone must know that I
killed the great Black Panther in fair fight."

"Sire, she'll kill you." Rolf protested. And me too, if she gets her paws on a
weapon, he thought to himself.

The king cocked his head. "But am I not a great swordsman. I will don my
armor, surely ... "

Rolf dared to interrupt his lord. "It won't make any difference. She'll still
kill you."

Towering over the diminutive little woman, the big king looked down at her
plump breasts and her shapely hips. This made no sense. "You trained me
yourself. Surely, this little wench can't ... "

"She can and she will, my lord. I barely bested her and that was after she
killed 4 of my men. Had she been fresher, I shudder to think what could have
happened. If you insist on matching blades with her, find another sword. I'll
be needing this one."

Natina smiled as the males bickered over her. She had earned their respect. It
made her feel taller than the king himself. She knew now that she could never
be Rolf's or any man's doxie. She was and always would be the Black Panther.

The king trusted the advice of his sword master. He had erroneously assumed
her reputation had been mere luck or legend. The strapping young king had no
wish to die. A light went on in his bald head. "We'll fight in unarmed combat.
I'll kill the black panther with my bare hands."

"Much better idea, sire. But do be careful. She is a willful young girl and
surprisingly strong." Rolf whispered in his lord's ear.

"She can't compete with these." The king replied as he removed his royal
doublet. Andaharian men wrestled in the nude and the king always up held
tradition. Of course, they usually weren't wrestling women but what the hell.
He struck a double biceps pose.

Natina wasn't watching his mountainous biceps. She focused on his fine, brown,
one-eyed snake. It was half erect and the girl planned to use that to her
advantage.

"Let him win." Rolf said as he walked over and fumbled with her manacles.

"What?" The Black Panther whispered back.

"Let him win. Let him rape you. He'll spare your life then. No man could kill
you, not after kissing those lips." The male replied carefully. He stroked her
cheek. "In a couple days, I could help you escape. We could make for Zin. We
can hide where the king could never find us."

The manacles fell away. Natina grabbed the sword master and pulled him close.
For a second, Rolf thought he was being disarmed. He grabbed his sword. She
kissed him, hard and wet.

"It's a great plan but not for me. I'm not running anymore. Thanks for a great
night but its over now. I'm going to hurt your great king before he kills me.
Let it not be said that the Black Panther was afraid of any man, even Morr."
The busty babe said, referencing the god of death. Her mom would be proud of
her right here, standing up to the king of kings.

Rolf staggered back, confused and disheartened. He even considered slaying the
big bald guy. But they would never make it if he did that. As a kingslayer, he
would find no shelter or port in the storm. This wench was nuts but it pained
him to see her die.

It pained him even more as she ripped off her light cotton dress, exposing her
buff female body. She went into battle against her massive male foe wearing
just her thong (she did have some virtue) and collar. This girl had it all:
brains, beauty and courage far exceeding that of any man he knew. Plus, she
had tits to die for. They weren't the biggest in Andahar, but they were
proudest, the firmest, and the sweetest.

The king smiled as she approached. He decided to rape the little bitch before
he killed her. Originally, he had rejected the idea of doing her. The king
took sloppy seconds from no man. But indeed, this woman was special and raping
her would just add to his reputation. As many philosophers said, it was good
to be the king.

So the royal guards, servants and slave girls came over to watch the wrestling
match. It pitted one of the biggest and strongest men in Andahar against one
of the city's sexist women. She was only half his size and it looked like his
mere gaze might kill her.

But Rolf knew differently. He knew of the strong, smooth muscle just under her
brown skin and her indomitable will. If the Black Panther were but a hair
larger, he would have given his king little chance. As it was, he gave her a
50/50 shot of winning. Not that she would survive. Unarmed, the royal guard
would finish the Black Panther if the king could not.

Without waiting for a formal declaration, The Black Panther charged. Her male
foe stood relatively straight, almost unconcerned by her head long rush. He
stuck his hands out at the last second. Much to his mild amazement the
charging female crashed right thru his weak defense.

She hit him in the stomach, using her pretty head as spear. The king's great
body buckled under the female assault. He lost his balance and fell
unceremoniously on his bare ass.

The king did a good job rolling to his feet. He possessed remarkable dexterity
for such a large man. But the damage had been done, at least psychologically.
Natina proved that she could indeed hurt the massively built male. A hush fell
over the throne room as the impossible began to unfold.

"Oooh, so the panther has some claws." The king joked as his male appendage
bobbed profusely. He tried to show that he wasn't hurt but the ache in his
midsection said otherwise. The girl had just gotten lucky. Plus, he had been
distracted by her wonder tits. Time to get down to business, the king thought
to himself. He charged in, wary of a kick to his monarch sized cock.

Natina retreated gracefully like the dancer she was. She looked for an opening
and didn't find one. The male gave her a hard push then moved in for a bear
hug. Huge arms swept the nubile girl up in an erotic and hungry embrace. The
king was a very capable wrestler.

But he made a trio of mistakes against the wily female. First, he failed to
control her arms. This arose out of the king's wrestling experience. He was
accustomed to facing other males in fun matches with clear cut rules. This
female foe fought for her life and knew no restrictions.

Secondly, he still underestimated the nefarious Natina, despite her earlier
success. The king was a man's man, trained for combat and athletics. Like many
men, he had a size based view of the world. And there were precious few bigger
and stronger than him. The king could simply not see an unarmed woman as a
threat. That went double for this busty little wench.

Lastly, he allowed himself a moment of physical pleasure at this critical
juncture. He was quite naked and the girl almost so. Flesh on flesh contact
brought predictable results, especially with his monarch sized cock against
Natina's most steely thigh. Her dark hair and come hither eyes didn't help
either. The king paused and allowed the girl to take the initiative.

"Now I got you bitch ... .Arrrgggh!" he started to brag but the sexy thief cut
him off, literally.

Natina wrapped her short but powerful legs around his rippling torso and
locked her ankles. Then she began to squeeze, pitting her supple girl muscles
against his bulky boy ones. It wasn't even a close contest. The king might
have had an advantage in upper body strength, but the female definitely ruled
the lower extremities. Her legs crushed his midsection and threatened to cut
the huge man in two.

The king panicked for a moment. He still held the girl off the ground but his
bear hug suddenly seemed ineffectual. The male had no counter move but the
girl did. She used her free hands to cuff him on both ears, shattering his ear
drums.

Now that's pain, friend. The unfortunate king experienced agony like he never
knew. He reflexively released the vile, voluptuous vixen and tried to protect
his ears. Another royal mistake.

The acrobatic Black Panther swung her topless torso down as if she was doing a
back flip. This pitched the wounded king forward. The girl put her hands on
the ground and completed the seemingly impossible maneuver. Her foe sailed
thru the air and smashed head first into the ground.

A stunned silence descended on the throne room. The great king of kings was
being woman-handled by a busty little wench. It made no sense to any in the
audience except for Rolf. He had obviously under-estimated the girl at the
beginning of the contest. Natina was incredible. She changed the very nature
of wrestling, bringing it to a whole new level. One that no man, not even the
highly trained king, could match.

Even more amazingly, she seemed every bit as strong as her massively built
male foe. The strength may have been distributed a bit differently but end
result was nothing less than spectacular. Rolf originally considered the girl
to be pound for pound equal to any man in Andahar. Now he could see she was
clearly superior to the male sex.

The king crashed to the ground with such force that it broke Natina's scissors
hold. She would have broken his neck if not for his phenomenal build. The man
staggered to his feet, not quite sure of the planet he currently occupied.

But he quickly found his female foe. She stood tall (sort of) and proud,
easily beating the male to his feet. The king knew not why they were fighting
or why his ears felt like pin cushions but he knew the enemy when he saw her.

Fists a flying, the nude male went after his big breasted enemy. His big, hard
cock led the charge like the ram of one of his war galleys. Natina took some
perverse satisfaction in this. Then she destroyed him.

The girl blocked his wild punch with ease. Then she stepped up, hip to hip
(more or less) and flung him down. At the same time the voluptuous vixen swept
his legs out from underneath him. The result was catastrophic for the king.
His body totally buckled. He dropped like a sack of potatoes at her feet.

It happened so fast that none in the audience fully followed the female's
moves. One moment the well-muscled king stood toe to toe with his petite foe.
The next saw him on the ground, flat on his back, his hard penis paying homage
to this incredible woman.

By this time even the highly trained and athletic king began to slow. There
was a limit to his masculine strength and endurance. He looked up at the woman
standing proudly over his prone body, first at her rock hard calves, on to her
thick thighs and up to her powerful loins. Her black thong kept her treasures
hidden from his eyes but his monarch cock tingled just the same.

He felt naked for the first time in the match. Male nudity was well accepted
and even worshipped in Andahar. The king normally slept, drank, exercised and
socialized sans clothing. For reasons unknown, the nude muscle man suddenly
felt ill at ease. With this came a feeling of vulnerability. Fear was not far
behind.

Natina slowed her pace and waited for her foe to recover. She could have
finished him just now, but the girl clearly understood where that would leave
her: dead. Her eyes gravitated from his thick pects, over his six- pack to the
king's throbbing pole. She decided to have some fun with him before she died.

"Come on, my king, surely you can do better than this." The busty lass taunted
him severely. She had her hands on her girlish hips and big breasts stuck out
defiantly.

He rose slowly this time as his anger gave way to fear, pain and hesitation.
Her words were lost on him due to the infernal ringing in his ears. But the
sexy thief's bodacious body language made her intent crystal clear. The king
got to his feet and promptly froze. He didn't know what to do. This wench had
punished so during the last few minutes.

"What's the matter? Afraid of a little girl?" Natina said, lunging at him.

It was but a feint, but the burly male retreated nonetheless, his cock wagging
like a tail as he stepped back. He couldn't hear it, but he could see his
retainers, his slave girls and this busty brunette laughing at him. Screaming
silently, the king went at her.

She took his attack straight up. That's how confident she's become. While
Natina had by no means been afraid or intimidated by men, she never considered
herself much of an unarmed fighter. The Black Panther preferred sharpened
steel and stealth over bare knuckled brawling. But now Natina found that she
was equally good at both. The busty babe wanted to beat the king at his own
game.

So she grabbed his outstretched wrists, stopping his hands just shy of her
plump breasts. His sheer momentum drove the girl back a few steps but she dug
in her heels. Much to the king's amazement, his forward progress stopped all
together.

He tried desperately to break his hand free of the little vixen but she held
on tightly. It looked almost comical to the audience as the female took
control over the much larger and very naked man. She got her legs into the act
and drove him back a couple of steps, demonstrating clearly that women were
the stronger sex. As the king weakened, Natina decided to give him a new
lesson.

She began to force his arms down. It seemed impossible: her comparatively
smooth arms overpowering the king's muscular ones. But even the nude monarch
had become almost used to such miraculous feats by the busty thief. Her tits
seemed to grow larger as she out-muscled him.

So focused was he on resisting the female domination, the king didn't figure
out the girl's intentions until he touched it, the it being his big hard cock.

"What - What are you doing?" he gasped. Sweat poured out of his big virile
body and the man shook like a leaf on a tree. He no longer looked very kingly.

"Grab it!" the girl shouted.

The nude male barely heard her. He couldn't touch himself, not here, not like
this. The male summoned his last reserves of masculine power and tried to
break her hold. The girl was so small, it should have been easy ...

It wasn't. He didn't even budge the dancer-acrobat-thief's hold. His energy
drained away and his huge arms became like putty.

"Do it!" Natina roared as she stared way up into his eyes.

The shaking king lost all will to resist the female and grasp his own cock. It
seemed to be his only muscle still fully functional. The busty bitch began to
masturbate him.

"King, didn't your mama ever tell you not to do this in public!" she scolded
the highly aroused monarch.

The young king began to weep. He didn't want to do this but the boy was well
beyond his point of self control. Many other men in the great hall were in
much the same condition. Even Rolf seemed mesmerized, his own male parts
thickening with arousal.

It came hard and mercifully fast. The king squirted his royal sperm all over
his chest and face. A slave girl fainted straight away and a commotion broke
out amongst the audience. That was the signal that young Captain Marcus
needed.

"Get her." Marcus ordered as he charged in.

The young man was no where near the size of his great king, but he was a
strong and capable fighter. At age 21, the king made him Captain of the Royal
Guard, quite an honor for such a minor noble. Marcus wanted the king to know
that he hadn't made a mistake. He grabbed the sexy little thief from behind on
her hard shoulders.

Natina struck back hard. She spun, swept the captain's hands from her
shoulders and placed Marcus in an arm lock. Her foot came up a fraction of a
second later, knocking the young male unconscious. He fell to one knee.

The topless thief saw his sword sticking up, still in its scabbard. If she
could just borrow for a few minutes, then she had a chance. It might have been
small but it was a lot better than nothing. Just as her fingers closed on it,
three men grabbed her.

It took four men to get busty babe back into the manacles. From there it was
down into the dungeon. She didn't get that chance after all.

Greta entered the cell followed by the loud clang of the iron bar door. It
took a second for her eyes to adjust to the darkness and a couple more seconds
for her brain to comprehend what she saw.

A petite and attractive brunette sat in the middle of the room. The woman was
nude save for a black thong. It was what she sat on that was weird. A naked
man, on his hands and knees, served as the girl's chair. A group of 4 other
males, naked and obviously frightened, huddled in the far corner of the cell.

"Come on in. Don't be shy." The little brunette said in a carefree voice.

The big blonde approached cautiously. These could be dangerous places.
"Hallo," Greta said to the other woman. "Are you OK?"

"If you call being in the king's dungeon's waiting to have my head chopped
off, OK, then I am." The woman stood up and stuck out her hand. "I'm Natina
but my friends call me the Black Panther."

Greta took her hand in the spirit it was offered. "You're the Black Panther?
Ha! I thought you'd be bigger. I'm Greta by the way, formerly of the 9th
regiment of foot."

"Pull up, a chair Greta formerly of the 9th Foot, and tell me your tale of
woe. I've got about six hours to kill." Natina said with nice laugh.

"What's wit dese boyz." The big blonde said, slipping into bit of a northern
accent.

"When the king's guards threw me in here, these lads thought I was some sort
of gift from the gods. They tried to have their way with me."

"What happened?" Greta said, grabbing one of the nude men by the hair and
walking him into the middle of the room.

"I had my way with them." The busty little thief replied.

"Good. Very good. You took on 5 men?"

"Yeah, these 5 weren't too tough. Men aren't very good fighters and they have
this little weakness that an enterprising girl can take advantage of."

Greta giggled as she took her nude man seat. "Well, I got here by killing a
man in a bar fight."

"You got thrown in the king's dungeon over a bar fight? I thought they saved
this place for real criminals."

"It turns out the guy was one of the king's bastard brothers." Greta said
sadly. "What are the chances?"

"Well, he does have something like a hundred brothers scattered over the city,
so you have to be careful. Just relax, honey. It's fate." The busty little
thief said. Then she pointed at the big girl's bare chest, subconsciously
comparing her breasts to the barbarian's. "Is that a new fashion statement?"

"It's from the fight." The blonde replied as she tried in vain to close the
ruined blouse over her big, ripe boobs. She had a small bloody scratch running
the length of her cleavage.

"So what do you want do?" Natina asked as she shifted on her nude man chair.

Greta smiled. "Get the hell out of here!"

"Impossible." The busty little thief replied as she stared at the larger
woman's boobs. It pained her to admit it but the barbarian's breasts were
bigger and just as firm as hers. Just her luck to be locked up on her final
night with a chick that has a nicer rack. Natina scoffed at the busty blonde,
"The only way out of this cell is that door and those are iron bars. We aren't
going any where."

Greta stood up. "Let me have a whack at the door. I'm quite strong for a
girl."

"You're going to bend iron? This I have to see." Natina replied as she
followed her new friend. Grabbing the bigger girl's arm as they approached the
cell door, the brunette said, "If we are going to break out of here, then we
should do it in style."

"By Crom, what are you talking about girl?"

"This, it has to go." The Black Panther pointed out. She grabbed the
barbarian's ruined blouse and ripped it off her. Natina didn't stop there.
Greta's goofy looking bloomers disappeared a few seconds later.

Natina always appreciated female beauty and she stood in awe of the tall,
blonde stranger. The girl was nothing short of beautiful, although not perhaps
from a classical Andaharian point of view. She had a handsome face with
sparkling blue eyes. Her body, while hard and muscular, was distinctly
feminine with wide hips, a flat stomach and protruding bosom. A male cod piece
covered her femininity like a g-string. Shedding her soldiers garb turned this
blonde into a beautiful butterfly.

"You look beautiful." Natina whispered. Greta was too stunned to reply. Nobody
had ever called her that before.

In a rare show of emotion, the Black Panther gave her a big hug. Of course,
Natina only measured up to the blonde's big boobs. Neither girl minded as the
little brunette pressed her cheek into the barbarian's soft bosom.

"I'm so afraid." The sexy thief admitted with a single tear.

"I know. So am I. We'll get out of here. Just watch." Greta replied. She gave
her new friend one last hug, stepped out of her uniform for the last time,
turned and grabbed the door with both hands.

There stood the fat ugly jailer, watching the scantily clad babes' moment of
affection. The old man smiled with green teeth. "He-He-He, that was nice,
really nice."

The girl wanted to wilt under his lusty gaze. Greta grew up as a virtuous
woman in a cold land. Her folk shunned nudity even in the privacy of their
huts. Things, of course, were quite different in decadent Andahar. Old ways,
however, were not easily cast aside. This was a test of courage for the big
blonde.

She sucked in her breath, centered her hands between her big, strong boobs and
began to pull. Greta would not be intimidated any more. She was a big,
powerful woman. That was who she was, and now Greta decided to be proud of it.

"What are you going to do, you ugly bitch? Escape? Bend iron bars?" the jailer
laughed. He had seen hundreds of doomed men try this and fail. Watching a
topless girl do was twice the fun.

"Yessss!" the girl growled as powerful cords of girl muscles exploded in her
arms and chest, inflating her big boobs ever farther.

The male watched in amazement at the muscle girl. He feared for a moment that
this goddess like barbarian might actually succeed. But all she managed to do
was rattle the cage a bit.

"Ah, you convicts are all the same. Stupid! Give your girlfriend another kiss
and I just might find you a flagon of wine to ease your passing." The jailor
offered. He was after all a generous man.

The bars had defied her but Greta did notice a looseness in the door. She
pulled back on the bars hard and was rewarded with a loud popping noise.

Those were the hinges giving way. Old and rusty, they yanked out of the wall.
Another hard pull by the busty barbarian ripped the entire door free. The
jailer stopped laughing and tried to run. If he could make it to the main jail
door, he could escape this scary barbarian.

But not a lithe Andaharian thief. Natina was out the door before even Greta
realized that they were free. She kicked the fat man's legs out from
underneath him, sending the male skidding along the stone floor. Like her
namesake, the topless thief leapt on the hapless jailer and knocked him out
with a single punch.

"Good work." Natina said, with the unconscious male laying between her legs.
The lone tear was long gone. The Black Panther was back. "Let's blow this
fried lizard gut stand."

The girls quickly made their way up into the castle. They had escaped the
dungeon, but had a long way to go before finding their freedom. The King's
castle was a bastion and defended by hundreds of well armed guards. All the
exits would be securely locked down. They couldn't just walk out of here.

It was late at night and the corridors were quite deserted. With the Black
Panther quietly leading the way, the heroines circumvented the great hall.
They used a dimly lit access corridor to approach the Grand Entrance.

Just then a door open and out stepped Captain Marcus of the Royal guard. The
dashing cavalier never saw the Black Panther until it was too late.

She slugged the man in the stomach. Fortunately, he wasn't wearing his armor.
The girl punch drove the air from Marcus's lungs. Greta watched with
admiration as her pretty partner in crime woman-handled the larger man. Natina
threw him up against the wall and clasped a hand over the struggling man's
mouth. The scuffle was short, quiet, and very one-sided.

Marcus could hardly believe his eyes. He had just spent the last 4 hours in
the infirmary being treated for a broken nose and a concussion. The only
bright spot to the whole day was that he could watch the little bitch who did
this to him hang in the morning. Now here she was, terrifying the handsome
young officer again. Unable to breathe, the man thought he would soon faint.

"Stop fighting me. If you'll be good, I won't hurt you." The topless thief
said as her firm breasts kept the male pinned to the wall.

Marcus complied involuntarily as he struggled to stay conscious. "What do you
... want?" the male asked weakly.

Natina smiled devilishly. Her right hand went to the bottom of his royal guard
doublet. She lifted the gold hem, brazenly exposing the young man.
Fortunately, he had his cod piece on. "Where can we get a couple of these?"
the busty lass enquired.

"Ah - Ah, the gymnasium. We have extra uniforms in there." Marcus replied
shakily.

"Will you take us there?"

The male just nodded. He very much realized that the buxom little bitch still
held his doublet up. Marcus also just noted that she had a partner in crime, a
massive blonde barbarian that almost made him faint again when he looked up at
her. Since when did girls get so damn strong?

"Bend over." Natina ordered. She backed off a step but still held his man-
skirt. He complied hesitantly as if someone else was controlling his actions.

"Grab you ankles."

Marcus wept silently as he assumed this degrading position. He wanted to fight
back like a man, but he was afraid, more like a little girl. He stood there
with his naked butt sticking out.

The buxom thief grabbed his g-string and ripped it off him with a soft pop.
Greta glanced around nervously, wondering what her little girlfriend was up
to. She didn't have long to wait. The Black Panther cunningly removed the thin
leather strap from the man's g-string and made a little noose.

"Don't move. Don't even breathe." The busty brunette ordered her male captive
as she placed the makeshift leash around the base of his scrotum.

He jerked slightly as the dominant female tightened the noose. This was almost
too much to bear for the young cavalier. Marcus had joined the army to become
a man. Now, in the space of a few hours, all that had been stripped away.

"You will lead us to the gymnasium, captain. Don't betray us. No signals, no
talking, nothing, or I own these suckers. Understand?" Natina said proudly.
The bitch was back and Natina was damn proud of it. She gave the male a small
tug as a demonstration of female authority.

The attractive young man jumped slightly but he obediently maintained his
humiliating position. Natina experienced a small surge of erotic pleasure over
her mastery of the male sex. Stripped of their masculine pride, they could be
quickly brought to heel. The buxom brunette looked over at her equally busty
girlfriend. Greta stared red faced at the boy's cute ass. Natina correctly
assumed that she wasn't the only one getting turned on.

"Stand Up!" she ordered, time to get moving.

When the lad did so, an embarrassing male pole protruded out of the front of
his doublet. Obviously, the girls weren't the only ones excited by this
sexually charged situation. Greta was nice enough to rearrange his equipment
for him, careful not to touch Marcus's long lance.

They escorted the captain of the guard thru the Grand Entrance, arm in arm.
The threesome passed dozens of heavily armed guards but none saw it as
anything unusual. Their Captain was obviously headed off for a well deserved
good time.

Marcus led them into the gymnasium. It consisted of three small interconnected
rooms: one for exercise, another for changing and one for storage. Late as it
was, the gym was empty save for two burly grapplers.

Gornt and Karl were the guard's best wrestlers and often won the city's
tournaments. It was not uncommon to see them practicing late into the evening.
Gornt was a local boy. Totally shaven, he looked like a bull with a barrel
chest and no neck to speak of.

On top of him was Karl, a northerner like Greta. Only Karl was even bigger.
When the young man stood up, he dwarfed his Andaharian partner. Karl had long
blonde hair and a perfect body. While just as muscular as the king, the
northman had better proportions. He looked like something out of Natina's
teenage fantasies.

"Hoy, Marcus, did you bring us something for desert?" Karl asked with a
stunning smile. Even his voice sound deep and sexy. The Black Panther had
another hot flash. Both men were totally nude.

But she immediately knew things were going to go wrong. Marcus was too
terrified to speak and the wrestlers read his face pretty well. The topless
thief threw the captain down and advised her girlfriend to guard the door.
Hopefully, the men wouldn't run. There were 3 of them and only 2 women.

Fortunately, that didn't even cross the men's minds. These boys wanted to kick
some hot girl ass. "You're her, aren't you, the Black Panther?" Karl asked.
Rumors of her handy work with the king had swept thru the castle like wild
fire.

"In the flesh." The busty brunette said, shaking her big tits for Karl. "This
is my friend Greta. Sorry boys, but I think we are going to have to tie you
fella's up, not that we are into that kind of thing mind you."

Karl and Gornt stopped just short of the ladies blocking the hall way. It was
barely wide enough for them to stand 2 abreast. "You are, eh?" Gornt laughed.
Nobody really believed those rumors.

"We might have something to say about that." Karl added. He towered over the
smaller Natina, while Gornt faced a slightly taller Greta. Between them, a
badly frightened Marcus scampered away, careful to make sure nobody stepped on
the leash dangling from his balls.

"Have at it, boys." The Black Panther fearlessly challenged the much larger
males.

Karl shook his head, thinking it was something of a bad joke. The blonde girl
looked hard as nails. He had learned long ago not to under-estimate women from
his homeland. But the little brunette seemed way too small to matter. Karl
nodded his blonde head and the boys had at it.

The big battle of the sexes started slowly as there was scant room to
maneuver. Both males tried over bear their female rivals with different yet
equally catastrophic results. The gorgeous northman seized the much smaller
Natina about the shoulders and pushed down. Surprisingly, the bare breasted
babe resisted effectively at first. Then she grabbed his wrists, dropped down
and swung between the naked man's legs, admiring the view as she went.

This bent Karl over. Natina got to her feet, continuing to pull on the hunk's
muscular arms. He had no place to go but over, flipping wildly thru the air
and landing hard on his back. Strike another one for the gorgeous Black
Panther. Size really didn't matter.

Or did it? The other man-woman match up started with a game of mercy. The
taller Greta passed up a swift victory with a blow to her opponent's exposed
penis. She was never one to fight dirty unless she had to. Instead, bare
breasted barbarian confidently engaged the burly male in a test of strength.
Greta had never met a Southerner that could take her.

Karl's foot glanced off Greta's powerful shoulders as they locked hands. It
was the only thing that slowed her down. Poor Gornt watched in absolute horror
as the girl bent his wrists back with shocking ease. He put his entire body
into the contest but it made no difference. She wasn't just stronger than him,
the girl was much stronger, outclassing any man he had ever met in the ring.

Greta smiled as the male sunk past her imposing breasts to his knees. She was
a big, strong woman and damned proud of it.

Marcus got the noose off his blue balls just in time to see one champion male
wrestler on his back and the other on his knees. Up until that time, he had
been ready to step in and help the masculine cause. But now he realized that
there was no cause. Plus, the young nobleman had already submitted. Surrender
was his only honorable option. The male stripped off his doublet and stared
down at his own hard cock.

Sadly, the two male wrestlers still had some fight left in them. Karl ignored
the pain and leapt to his feet. His busty female foe still had a hold of his
right arm. She proceeded to place the gorgeous hunk in a nasty little arm
lock. Using her amazing girl power, Natina swung his virile body around and
slammed him into the wall. Again and again. Boy that wall is hard, Karl though
as it rushed up to meet him.

Gornt tore his eyes off Greta's dominating breasts and looked to his pal for
help. Surely, he would have disposed of the little one by now. Instead, Gornt
witnessed Karl playing chicken with the wall and the wall was winning. The
pain in his wrists and the scene of male destruction made him desperate. He
had to do something or join the ever expanding ranks tamed men. Looking at the
blonde's camel toed cod piece, the male wrestler head butted the girl in the
abdomen.

It felt like he had just head butted a tree, but Gornt was nothing if not hard
headed. He heard the female let out an oomph! and she buckled slightly. The
man got his hands free, grabbed the busty blonde's knees and yanked her off
her feet. A girl might be strong but she was still just a girl, Gornt thought
to himself.

And he was still just a man. Gornt paused for a moment as he knelt over her
very feminine body. She was strong, yes, but the girl's muscles seemed to form
into a perfect hourglass figure. His eyes caught that place between her long
legs, place that never fails to distract a man from the work at hand.

Meanwhile, the other female fighter put her male wrestler under unmanageable
pressures. She threatened to break his long, muscular arm and re-arrange his
savagely gorgeous face at the same time. Natina suddenly saw the waste in
this. Some men were just too handsome to thrash. So the girl spun the blonde
man about and tossed him to the ground.

Karl unleashed his bezerker fury at this point. It was the northmen's secret
weapon. He leapt to his feat, put his head down and charged like a male cannon
ball. The dancer-acrobat-thief twisted just in time, catching the muscle hunk
with her hip and flipping him. Karl's body was hard but the floor was even
harder. Pain exploded thru him from the impact. The male looked up just in
time to see two beautiful tits and a little rock hard fist descending on his
nose. BAM!

Again, the male champion wrestler lay naked at the dark-haired woman's feet.
This time he seemed in no hurry to get up. Natina placed a delicate little
foot on his throat and said, "Submit to me."

Gornt had delayed for a mere second, nothing more. That gave Greta more than
enough time to lock her long legs around Gornt's head and slam the nude male
down on the tiled floor. She cocked her leg, drawing the male in, and grabbed
her foot with her free hand and began to squeeze. Gornt tried to stand but
didn't get far. He was caught in a female triangle of death.

A mere second after Natina's demand for submission, the bare breasted blonde
demanded her man surrender. It became almost a contest between the two well
endowed women, to see whose nude male champion wrestler would yield first.
This under-current of competition between the two beautiful females would
challenge their relationship for many years.

This time the advantage went to Greta. Her relatively soft, city-bred boy
surrendered first. At least he tried to but neither man was in much of a
position to talk. Both girls were equally distracted. Natina spied Karl's
rapidly expanding cock. It reminded the young lady of a giant hot air balloon
at the circus. She always liked to watch boys get their hard on.

Greta had Gornt's head cradled between her long legs. His nose and mouth
pressed hard against the blonde's warm, wet pussy. You couldn't fault a girl
for getting a bit hot under the g-string at that point. It took both men about
a minute to signal their submission.

The big blonde got up. Her pink nipples stood at attention like little toy
soldiers. Gornt lay almost dead at her feet, the victim of sexual
asphyxiation.

"About time you got up. Here I take the tough one and have to wait for you to
finish that wimp." The Black Panther teased her new gal pal.

"I haven't heard yours surrender yet." Greta pointed out as Karl contorted his
powerful body under the girl's foot. This placed his cock, now savagely hard,
on full display for both girls.

It wasn't for a lack of trying on Karl's part but he couldn't speak with the
busty brunette's foot on his throat. Natina nicely removed it and the hunk
promptly surrendered. The battle of the sexes was over almost as quickly as it
started. Victorious, the women had only a pleasing sheen of perspiration on
their buxom bodies to show for their troubles.

Natina turned to Marcus who sat on a nearby bench, playing with his huge
lance. The girl couldn't help but compare the two well endowed males.
Amazingly, the captain had Karl beat as far as sheer size but could not
compete with the barbarian's savage sex appeal.

"Captain Marcus, excuse me for a moment." Natina said. The boy looked up from
his erotic duties. She continued, "When does the next shift get here?"

"They'll start coming," the male said, swallowing hard at his unintended pun,
"in, err, a couple of hours."

"That should give us time for a quickie." The brunette said to the blonde.

Greta kind of knew what she meant but the conservative young woman had to be
sure. "You mean you want to ... "

"That's exactly what I mean. But make it fast." Natina replied as she mounted
her barbarian stud and kissed his hot lips.

"How's come you get the north man? He should be mine. Us white folks like to
stick to together." The blonde pouted. She acted less and less military with
each passing second.

Her girlfriend responded by impaling herself on Karl's cock. "Just - Just -
find - oh - oh ... " the sexy thief tried to answer.

Greta rolled her eyes and approached Captain Marcus. Well, he was more her
type anyway. The blonde straddled the young man and grabbed him roughly by the
hair. This time she was in charge and Greta wanted him to know it. She bent
down and kissed his waiting lips before stuffing his monster cock deep inside
her.

The gals spent the next 10 minutes raping two very fortunate men. Then they
calmly donned complete royal guard uniforms, including the armor and strolled
out the front door. Rays of sunlight painted the eastern sky red. A new dawn
had arrived over a sleepy Andahar.