Dark Ages 1: Belar’s Dilemma.
by Strongarm4.
Two beautiful princesses fight to be the sole consort of the great warlord Belar.

In the Dark Ages that followed the fall of the Roman Empire a mighty warrior called Count Belar established a domain for himself in the fertile regions north of the River Drava. Here Belar ruled in a firm yet fair way which allowed his subjects a level of peace and prosperity sadly lacking elsewhere during those troubled times.
As was the convention of his tribe which had recently rejected the Roman imposed Christianity, Belar had chosen two consorts, the Princesses Sophie and Hannelore. Safe within his well policed borders, with most of his warlike neighbours subdued, Belar hoped to grow old in comfort with these two beautiful young women to amuse and satisfy him.
In many ways Belar was at first well satisfied with his choice. Princess Sophie was very tall and beautiful with long fair hair and magnificent breasts that were astonishing in both their size and firmness. She had taken to Belar’s bed with enthusiasm and many times reaffirmed her delight at being chosen as a consort by such a mighty warrior as Belar. Sophie, like most high born women in Belar’s fiefdom, had trained and fought as a warrior against Belar’s enemies since the age of 16 and the 6 foot tall princess had proved capable of fighting with any man or woman in the domain. Now though, Sophie preferred the comforts of Belar’s court and the pleasures of the bath house and the massage table to the rigours of campaigning. The tall princess prided herself on her stunning looks and sumptuous figure and loved to tease the young men of Belar’s court with her skimpy clothing for it was known to all that no one could have possession of the two gorgeous princesses but the mighty Belar.
Sophie’s co-consort Princess Hannelore was another great beauty who had entered the mighty Belar’s bed with great enthusiasm. Almost as tall as Sophie and more obviously muscular with raven hair and bright blue eyes Hannelore had also often proved her worth on the battlefield. As good a horsewoman as any of Belar’s warriors, Hannelore delighted in hunting and fighting and regularly served in campaigns to subdue the fierce nomadic tribesmen who occasionally threatened Belar’s borders. Hannelore was widely acknowledged as one of the greatest warriors in Belar’s domain. Whilst Sophie preferred to stay at Belar’s imposing palace within the old Roman fortress, Hannelore would accompany Belar whilst he hunted wild boar or chased and slaughtered the small bands of tribesmen who occasionally penetrated his borders. She delighted in drinking and yarning around the camp fire with Belar’s oldest comrades and keeping her lord warm in his tent at night.
All this should have made Belar content. With two such beautiful women he was the envy of all the men in his domain. Except for one thing, the two beautiful princesses hated each other. Sophie found the hard riding, hard drinking Hannelore coarse and vulgar whilst Hannelore despised Sophie for choosing to live in luxury. Besides each young woman felt that they were Belar’s particular favourite and were deeply jealous of each other’s intimate moments with the count. In truth, as Belar often thought, both women were so different and each suited to a different part of his life that they should have come to some sort of acceptance of their positions. But it was not to be and to Belar’s increasing annoyance the women had begun to argue with each other at every opportunity. Something would have to be done, after all he was the lord and he could do as he liked within his own domain, it made little sense that his happiness should be spoilt by two feuding women, no matter how beautiful.

One summer’s evening the Count Belar and Hannelore arrived back at his great fortress after a weeks hunting. As always the riding had excited the raven haired princess and she was eager to retire to Belar’s private rooms with him. Belar had other ideas. After a week in the saddle enjoying the chase his thoughts had turned to Sophie and her voluptuous charms and a more gentle form of relaxation than that promised by Hannelore’s muscular thighs. This did not sit well with his current companion who took Belar aside.
“Why do you spurn me for that plump chicken my lord,” Hannelore asked angrily, “haven’t I been good enough company this last week?”
Belar sighed, Hannelore had been excellent company, she had satisfied his every need, but she did not rule him. He was determined that she should know her place.
“Hannelore,” he replied, “I am the ruler in this country and I will do as I like. Sophie is your equal and you must show her respect.”
Hannelore had a famous temper and now Belar could see his consort’s face darkening with anger.
“My equal,” she spat, “Sophie is many things but my equal? Can she ride like me, could she fight like me. Never, am I not one of the greatest warriors in the land.”
Hannelore turned away abruptly and leapt from her horse handing her bridle to a groom. Belar watched her stride off in a great anger. Normally, he mused, she would have taken care of her favourite horse by herself but today her anger was so great she had abandoned her mount to the grooms. Things were even worse than he had thought.

After he had eaten Belar made his way to Sophie’s apartment in the great fortress. Sophie was awaiting him as he had expected. The voluptuous princess lay naked on a couch whilst two young slave girls massaged her with an exotically scented oil. Belar felt himself stiffen with desire at the sight of Sophie’s magnificent breasts whilst the princess smiled and slightly opened her thighs towards him in invitation.
“Oh mighty Belar,” she murmured, “I have missed you so much, come to me my lord and master.”
Belar gestured to the slave girls who left their mistresses side and began to undress him, giggling as they revealed his huge erection. When they had finished he shooed them from the room and took his place by Sophie’s side.
“Why do you stay away so long with that slut Hannelore,” Sophie asked, “when you know I will do anything and everything to please you.”
Belar sighed, he had expected this question.
“Sophie my darling,” he sighed, “why must you and Hannelore always fight like cats.”
“If only we could fight, my prince,” sighed Sophie, “then I would settle the matter and I could have you to myself.”
“What,” said Belar with some astonishment, “you would be prepared to fight Hannelore over me, she is a great warrior.”
“Of course Belar,” she replied, “what greater reason could there be, and I haven't forgotten how to fight.”
Belar sat quietly for a moment, an idea was beginning to form in his mind. Suddenly he relaxed and took Sophie in his arms. For the moment he would forget the bickering, but soon there would be an end of it, once and for all.

The next morning Belar called both women into his presence. As usual Sophie and Hannelore glowered at each other with open hatred as they entered Belar’s council chamber and awaited the entrance of the Count.
Shortly afterwards Belar walked into the room and sat on his throne. He looked slowly from one princess to the other for the time had come and he had made his decision.
“Ladies,” he began, his tone mild, “recently I have become disillusioned and disappointed. You will want to know why. When I took you both as my consorts I was happy. With two such beautiful women how could I not be? And for a while all was well. But then things began to change. You began to argue between yourselves over the most trivial matters, you became jealous of each other, no matter that I have always treated you both evenhandedly. Now I have had enough of this hostility, this constant bickering. You have a choice. You will either agree to live in harmony with each other or you will settle your differences in the arena where the Romans held there games. There you will fight for the right to remain my consort.”
The two princesses eyed each other with unconcealed hatred.
“With what arms would we fight,” asked Sophie.
“Why with quarter staffs and the power of your naked bodies,” Belar replied, “you would fight until one has attained a clear victory but understand that I do not wish the loser dead.”
“And so what happens to the loser,” asked Hannelore in a quiet voice.
“The loser,” Belar smiled as he replied, “why the loser will become a slave. She will empty the palace privies and lead the rest of her life in the stench of our shit. For either of you I think that fate would be worse than death. Is this all clear to you both.”
Sophie and Hannelore both glanced at the other and nodded in agreement.
“Right,” said the lord, “you have until noon tomorrow to make your decision. You may go to your quarters, you obviously have things to discuss.”

Eyeing each other with renewed interest Sophie and Hannelore left the council chamber and made their way to Sophie’s rooms. Once there Sophie dismissed her personal slaves then sat down on the couch where only yesterday she had greeted Belar in all her naked splendour. Now Sophie had a different form of satisfaction in mind.
“Well, Hannelore,” she purred, “it seems we most come to a decision. Do we end our feud and live in friendship or do we settle our differences in the arena.”
Hannelore studied Sophie carefully as she thought of her reply. Belar’s ultimatum hadn’t come as a surprise to her but it was an excellent opportunity to be rid of her rival once and for all.
“Sophie my dear,” she replied with a sneer, “surely you wish to live in harmony with me, after all what option do you have?”
“Meaning that if we fight you expect to win,” replied Sophie.
Hannelore flexed her impressive arm muscles and looked Sophie in the eye.
“Of course,” replied the raven haired beauty, “I would win and condemn you to a life as a slave. You might find that a bit of a shock.”
Now it was Sophie’s turn to smile, Hannelore was so confident, it was going to be a pleasure to destroy her and claim Belar for herself alone, thought the blonde.
“I think you might be in for a shock,” Sophie replied, “for we will fight.”
“So be it,” said Hannelore, “by fighting me you condemn yourself to a life clearing up the court’s foul shit.” The muscular brunette smiled with satisfaction, what better fate, she thought, for such a spoiled bitch.
“So that is your last word,” hissed Sophie.
“Yes,” replied the brunette.
“Well get out,” came the haughty response, “we know what we will tell Belar and now it is time for my massage.”
“Enjoy it well,” said Hannelore, “it will be your last taste of all this luxury.” With that Hannelore turned on her heel and strode from the room well satisfied with what had transpired for soon she would have Sophie right where she wanted her, at her mercy.
Sophie clapped her hands. Her two young slaves reentered the room and proceeded to undress their princess. Sophie smiled to herself as the two girls began to anoint her with scented oils. Her body might look soft and luxurious on the surface but just beneath all that there was a firmness that only Belar and these slaves were aware of for Sophie had never ceased to practise her martial skills. Soon, she thought, Hannelore would learn of it too.

The next day the two princesses presented themselves to Belar’s council chamber. Belar awaited them on his throne, his face stern.
“Well my Princesses,” he started, “you have had time to consider. have you chosen to live in harmony or will you settle your feud in the arena?”
“The arena,” said both women as one.
Belar smiled to himself, he had expected nothing else. Both Sophie and Hannelore were such strong and arrogant women this was the only solution to their constant squabbling.
“Then tomorrow at noon you will meet in the arena as we discussed yesterday,” he said, “and one of you will leave as my consort. The other will be enslaved. You may leave and make your preparations.”
The princesses bowed and left the chamber. Neither spoke for the die was cast and tomorrow would prove a day of great victory for one and the most bitter defeat for the other, there was nothing further to be said.

The next day the sun shone brightly on Belar’s great fortress. A great crowd headed to the old Roman arena carved into the side of a hill about a mile from the fortress. They had heard that Count Belar’s consorts would fight that day at noon and nobody wished to miss the spectacle of the two most beautiful women in the country fighting for their position and privilege.
As noon approached Belar and his court arrived at the arena in a great procession of all his nobles and his personal bodyguard. They seated themselves in the tribune at the head of the arena and began to discuss the coming fight with great interest. Large wagers were placed upon the outcome and for many Hannelore was the favourite for victory. After all did not the raven haired beauty still enjoy riding and fighting just as she had always done, whereas Sophie stayed at home feasting and dancing, a poor preparation for fighting most agreed.

At noon a great gong was sounded and the arena went deathly quiet. The time of truth had come.
Suddenly there was a stir amongst the crowd and there, at opposite ends of the arena stood Sophie and Hannelore, both draped in cloaks.
Both of the princesses walked slowly across the sandy floor of the arena to the base of the tribune and stood before Belar. Attendants came forward and swiftly removed their cloaks leaving Sophie and Hannelore standing naked before the Count. There was a great sigh from the crowd at the sight of the two luscious princesses standing before them.
Sophie was the taller of the pair by a couple of inches and had a weight advantage of at least 20 pounds. She stood six feet tall in the sand of the arena, taller than most men. She tossed back her long golden hair and looked around her, pleased to see the effect of her magnificent breasts and fine strong thighs on the awed crowd. Beside her Hannelore appeared slighter of build despite her heavy muscles. The raven haired beauty had a magnificent physique with broad shoulders, strong arms and firm round breasts with a narrow waist and rock hard sculpted thighs but standing next to Sophie Hannelore now appeared less the obvious favourite for victory than had been assumed by so many. The brunette seemed to sense this as she shot sidelong glances at her opponent. With a frown Hannelore realised a fight with edged weapons might have been preferable after all to one with staves and fists. Her prowess with the sword and the javelin would avail her little here whilst Sophie’s size advantage was obvious.

Suddenly the gong was struck again. Belar rose from his seat and pointed to the two oak staves, each about 5 feet long that lay in the centre of the arena about twenty feet apart.
“Ladies,” he said, “your staves await you in the centre of the arena, once you have picked them up the fight may begin.”
Sophie and Hannelore exchanged scowls then set off at a run to pick up their staves. As might be expected the athletic Hannelore reached hers first grasping it with both hands then spinning around to face her opponent. Sophie had reached her own and turned to stand facing Hannelore with a serene smile on her face. Both women stood still for a moment and stared at the other daring each other to attack. Slowly Hannelore took a few paces towards Sophie then stopped again and gestured for her opponent to come forward and meet her. The raven haired princess’ chest was heaving as Hannelore breathed deeply to overcome the mixture of excitement and tension that had welled up inside her since the sound of the first gong. Suddenly she became unreasonably annoyed at Sophie’s smiling face, the slut was taunting her.
“Well come on,” she snarled, “are you too scared to begin?”
Sophie didn’t reply, she simply stood her ground with the same slight smile on her face. She had realised that the apparently confident Hannelore was more nervous than she had appeared and so the big blonde princess intended to make her rival come to her.
Suddenly Hannelore charged, the muscular princess raising her staff to shoulder height as she did so and aimed a mighty blow at Sophie’s head. The blonde stepped aside from the blow and Hannelore’s staff whistled harmlessly through the air whilst Sophie then aimed her own at Hannelore’s belly. The brunette jerked her staff back to an upright position just in time to check the powerful blow but was sent staggering backwards by Sophie’s power. The blonde princess now went on the attack raining a series of blows onto Hannelore’s staff causing her to give ground to her ferocious assailant. This was a side of Sophie that few had ever seen before and the crowd fell silent as the attack continued.
As Sophie pushed Hannelore back the raven haired beauty realised that she had a real fight on her hands. This wasn’t the Sophie she knew, that woman had stayed in her chamber at Belar’s palace. This was Sophie the Warrior Princess intent on crushing her foe.
Finally Sophie paused briefly to catch her breath. Hannelore breathed a sigh of relief as she turned to the attack herself smashing her staff down against Sophie’s with all her massive strength then repeating the blow so that Sophie was forced down onto one knee. Hannelore swiftly changed her tactic with an underarm back swinging blow that sent the blonde princess sprawling onto her back.
With a yell of triumph Hannelore raised her staff over her head to administer another blow. Her staff sailed through the air with maximum force yet Sophie was fast for so large a woman and rolled out from under the deadly blow so that Hannelore struck the hard packed sand of the arena floor with enough force to snap her staff in two like a twig. With a roar of anger Hannelore threw the broken staff aside in disgust and threw herself on top of Sophie sending the blonde princess’ staff flying from her grasp.
The two princesses rolled over together on the sand, each attempting to pin the other to the ground. The pair came to rest with Hannelore able to clamber on top of her opponent, her thighs straddling Sophie’s waist. Grabbing hold of Sophie’s wrists with one hand Hannelore began to smash her left fist into the side of Sophie’s head. The blonde princess struggled desperately to wrench her hands free of Hannelore’s grasp finally succeeding as Hannelore smashed her fist into Sophie’s face for a third time. Digging her free hand into the sand Sophie succeeded in flinging a handful into Hannelore’s face. The raven haired beauty’s hands flew instinctively to her eyes as Sophie punched her hard in the left breast.
With a bellow of pain the temporarily blinded Hannelore lashed out wildly at Sophie without success. Now the blonde was able to push her tormentor aside with ease as Hannelore frantically rubbed at her sand clogged eyes. Sophie leapt to her feet with an agility unusual for such a large woman and as the crowd roared their approval she kicked Hannelore viciously in the side.
The crowd were beginning to give their support to Sophie for most had expected the mighty Hannelore would destroy her with ease and yet the big breasted blonde was obviously capable of holding her own with the more famous warrior. As if to prove the point Sophie gave Hannelore another vicious kick in the ribs.
Hannelore was stung by the pain in her ribs and the sound of the crowd shouting their support for Sophie. The raven haired beauty suddenly rolled towards her tormentor who was about to aim another kick. Sophie was taken off balance and came crashing to the ground alongside Hannelore who smashed her fist into Sophie’s belly then jumped to her feet. Sophie began to get to hers only for Hannelore to knee her in the shoulder sending the blonde sprawling flat on her back in the sand. Hannelore now threw herself across Sophie’s belly, her rock hard stomach forcing the air from Sophie’s lungs.
Getting to her feet Hannelore looked around her. The raven haired beauty smiled as her eyes fell on Sophie’s discarded staff. Ignoring her prone opponent Hannelore picked up the staff with obvious glee. Brandishing it over her head in triumph Hannelore turned her attention back to Sophie who was attempting to regain her feet. As she straightened up Hannelore jabbed the end of the staff into Sophie’s belly causing the blonde to double up sharply. Hannelore followed up by bringing the staff down hard across Sophie’s shoulder. The blonde fell to her knees as Hannelore took another swing at her quarry. Sophie was thrown flat on her back by the force of the blow.
The crowd groaned as the beautiful blonde princess lay motionless on her back, her arms by her sides and her legs apart. Hannelore smiled to herself in satisfaction and looked down at Sophie, whose legs were spread apart revealing her defenceless cunt. She looked around at the crowd who had been cheering for her opponent and smiled. Hefting the staff in her hands Hannelore took a couple of practice swings which made her intention obvious to the crowd. Moving to the top of Sophie’s body Hannelore positioned her feet either side of the blonde’s head. Slowly she raised the staff above her head and arrogantly looked around at the silent crowd. Everyone in the arena held their breath as they awaited the blow.
Suddenly Hannelore’s mouth dropped wide open and the staff fell from her grasp. The beautiful princess looked down in horror and disbelief. Whilst Hannelore had been preparing the crowd for her final move Sophie had taken hold of one of the broken halves of Hannelore’s original staff. As the raven haired princess had raised her staff above her head Sophie had swung her half staff backwards in an ark with all the force she could muster. The inch and a half diameter oak staff had smashed into Hannelore’s cunt with enormous force. The raven haired princess sunk slowly to her knees in shock. The crowd roared in approval as Sophie climbed to her feet and looked down at the crushed Hannelore. With one swing to Hannelore’s temple Sophie put matters beyond doubt as the raven haired princess collapsed unconscious to the sand.
Sophie raised her arms in triumph and walked towards the tribune, acknowledging the cheers of the crowd, to where Belar awaited the victor. Behind her the limp body of Hannelore was dragged out of the arena towards a life of servitude.