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Tales from the Amazon Wars, Episode 6

Princess Katarina sat in her tent, trying to think of a strategy for the next day’s march. Suddenly, her dark brown eyes lit up as she got an idea. She hurried out of the tent and called out to one of her aides. “I want all the company-level commanders to gather for a meeting with me.”

“Just the company-level commanders? Not the senior officers?”

“That’s right.”

“Yes, milady.” He hurried off to spread the word.

When the officers had been gathered, Katarina led them to an isolated part of the camp where the others couldn’t hear them. “Gentlemen, I have called you here for a very important and secret reason. I want each of you to make a list of six or seven men from your companies that are troublemakers, malcontents, or other dead weight.”

The officers looked at one another, not quite sure what was going on, but obeyed her order. When she had all the lists of names, she thanked the officers and dismissed them. She then made her way across the camp, heading for one man in particular.

She found him sitting alone glumly by a campfire, staring off into space with a blank expression on his dull face. He was the fat ex-colonel (remember him, from Amazon Wars Episode 2) who she had demoted to private for his sexist attitude, lack of command skill, and general asshole personality. She tapped him on the shoulder and motioned for him to follow her away from the fire. Puzzled, he obeyed.

“Listen,” she whispered, putting on her best fake smile. “I want to apologize for insulting and demoting you earlier. I am a hot-tempered woman, and sometimes my anger gets the best of me. I have created a new battalion to take the position of honor in the front of the army tomorrow, and as a way of making it up to you, I want you to command it. By the power vested in me by His Majesty, I hereby re-promote you to lieutenant colonel.”

The fat, dim-witted man broke into a wide smile, falling for her act hook, line, and sinker. “Thank you, my Princess. I am very happy to accept.”

“Excellent. Here are the lists of the men you will be commanding.”

“Thank you, my Lady. I won’t let you down.”

“You sure won’t,” she thought to herself, a smirk appearing on her elegant face as soon as he turned away.

* * *

The next day, the battalion of malcontents, four hundred men, with the fat colonel in command, formed up in the vanguard of the army and led the march out as they broke camp. None of the fools in the battalion had the brains to realize what was going to happen. In their arrogant, delusional minds, they thought they were the best soldiers in the Royalist army and were being given a position of honor.

Soon, they approached the mouth of the narrow canyon. The fat colonel and his battalion of deadweight happily and stupidly marched right in. It was only when they had marched several hundred yards in that one of the soldiers in the rear turned around. “Hey, the rest of them aren’t following us!”

“What the…” The fat colonel whirled. “Is this some sort of…AAAAAHHHHH!” He suddenly fell to the ground, writhing in agony. An arrow had pierced him right in the groin.

Then the sky was filled with arrows. Hundreds of men dropped, killed or maimed. The survivors fired their muskets uselessly up towards the sides of the canyon at an enemy they could neither see nor hit.

“It’s no use! Retreat!” shouted a lieutenant. The men who still could began running, but suddenly there came two quick bursts of cannon fire. Cannonballs slammed into the canyon walls, triggering a rockslide that blocked off the escape route. Arrows were still falling like rain, steadily reducing the number of moving male bodies. Trapped and helpless, the men could do nothing but wait for an arrow to find them.

Amazon Princess Livia, watching from high up on the canyon rim, laughed as the slaughter of the battalion was completed. Most of her officers were smirking and giggling at the killing right along with her, but two of them were several yards behind the others, whispering.

“We should have waited until more of them entered the canyon to spring the trap. This is but one battalion of their army, and an undersized one at that,” said one Amazon quietly.

“When they stopped coming, Livia got impatient and gave the order to fire. So impetuous, that one,” the other girl whispered back.

“This might even be a trap on that Katarina’s part.”

“Perhaps, but I can’t see her sacrificing a battalion of her own men. Unless…”

“Unless what?”

“Shh! Here she comes!”

Livia approached them. “Now let’s get our cannons repositioned to…”

BOOM! A Royalist burst of grapeshot exploded among a group of Amazon archers, blowing several of them to bits. Then the massed fire of an entire artillery line began firing into the Amazon army. Screams from wounded and dying women came from all directions.

“TAKE COVER! GET THOSE CANNONS FIRING BACK! FAST!” Livia roared. As the girls ducked, the two who had been whispering earlier gave each other looks of “We told them so.”

Livia, though cocky and arrogant, was still an intelligent tactician. Knowing that even when her cannons were up and firing, she would still have fewer of them than the enemy, she ordered her archers to advance.

“Here they come!” shouted a Royalist officer. “Amazon archers, advancing en masse!”

“Concentrate all artillery fire on the archers!” ordered Katarina. “Kill as many as you can before they get into range! Infantry, advance!”

“What?” said her chief of staff. “My Lady, the infantry will…”

“Suffer many casualties from the arrows, yes. But they’ll get in range with their muskets faster. We have the advantage at long range with our cannons and at short range with our muskets, but at medium range the Amazon archers rule the battlefield. We must make sure that advantage lasts for as little time as possible. In this way, we will suffer fewer casualties in the long run.”

“Yes, my Princess.”

Just like Katarina had predicted, the next phase of the battle started out well for the Royalists. Their cannon fire blew many of the Amazon archers to bits. But then, the Amazon cannons began firing and started blowing up male infantrymen. Still, the Royalists held the advantage, with thirty cannons to the Amazons’ fifteen, until the surviving archers got into range. With howls of vengeance, the girls fired devastating volleys of arrows into the advancing but still out of range Royalist musketeers, the archers’ rapid rate of fire enabling them to inflict far more carnage than artillery ever could.

Katarina winced as she watched many of her men fall. But the army, purged of malcontents and cowards, bravely charged forward until they were in musket range and the survivors could fire back.

Livia watched the scene from the rear of the Amazons’ side of the battlefield. “This is the great Katarina’s plan? Send her musketeers against my archers, who can fire four shots for every one they fire?”

“But their musketeers outnumber our archers four to one,” said one of Livia’s officers.

“And there’s still an artillery duel going on, and they have more cannons than we do,” another girl added.

“Still, it’s not like the enemy to fight a battle of attrition like this,” murmured Livia. “They are soft, they don’t have the balls to fight like that. That girl has something else up her sleeve, I just know it.” She suddenly whistled for her horse. “Cavalry, prepare to charge!”

But suddenly, sure enough, the Royalist cavalry, a thousand men and horses, led by Princess Katarina herself, burst out of the forest and charged straight for the Amazon archers. The Amazons, though taken completely by surprise, reacted coolly and without fear. Half of them turned and began firing on the charging horsemen, while the other half kept pressure on the musketeers.

A cavalry charge against Amazon archers without the element of surprise, without a second force supporting them, or without Princess Katarina would have ended in slaughter for the charging force. But luckily for the Royalists, they had all three of those things. Though fully one-fifth of the cavalrymen were shot down by the girl-archers, the 800 male survivors did what few ever had by reaching the Amazon line, lowering their lances. Katarina, her shield now with three arrows stuck in it, armed with her trusty sword and trusty double-barreled pistol, fired twice, killing two Amazons whose fancy headdresses indicated they were women of high rank, then drew her blade.

The Royalist cavalry crashed into the archers, trampling and lancing them. Katarina cut off several Amazons’ heads with her sword. The musketeers on the other side let out a loud cheer, preparing to advance and finish the trap…

Suddenly, an Amazon war horn sounded and several dozen musketeers fell dead with arrows in their bodies. Arrows fired from much further away. Amazon light cavalrywomen were in the distance, firing with deadly accuracy into the male infantry, who were far out of range with their muskets for shooting back. At the same time, the Amazon heavy cavalry, led by Princess Livia herself, charged the male horsemen. Katarina, knowing she couldn’t leave her riders vulnerable, ordered them to re-form to face the new threat. The surviving Amazon archers swiftly retreated.

The two forces of heavy cavalry charged one another. Katarina, leading her men, and Livia, leading her women, looked at each other as the distance between them shrank, both knowing what they had to do. As the two forces collided, Katarina and Livia drew their swords.

The two female commanders’ blades clashed for the briefest of moments as they rode by each other. Each woman would have easily killed a normal opponent with her swing as she rode by, but both ladies were as good on defense as they were on offense. Livia received a minor wound to her left shoulder and Katarina a small cut on her left forearm, but both girls were otherwise unhurt.

Livia brutally slaughtered every man she passed by as she made her way through the male riders to turn around and charge Katarina again. The sadistic Amazon preferred gut slicing, ripping open men’s stomachs and sending their intestines spilling onto the dirt. Katarina, making her way in turn through the Amazons, made her kills cleanly by cutting off her opponents’ heads or stabbing them through their hearts.

Now facing off once more, Katarina and Livia stared across but twenty yards of space at each other…

Suddenly, a Royalist war horn sounded. From over a ridge, 500 more of Katarina’s horsemen appeared…

Wait a minute, thought soldiers from both sides as they looked at the newcomers. They weren’t horsemen, they were horsewomen! Female citizens of Frederick’s kingdom, they wore a modified version of the blue and white Royalist uniform, consisting of black knee-high riding boots, black leather gloves, low-cut white pants, and blue and white blouses with three-quarter length sleeves and midriff ties, showing off their toned six-pack abs and slender but muscular forearms.

The new Royalist female light cavalry charged their Amazon counterparts, firing carbines and pistols as the Amazons shot arrows back at them. Another fierce battle erupted as the two forces of light horsewomen crashed into each other, swords and axes clanging.

Livia saw that her army was now being pressed hard on all fronts. Not wanting to lose her cannons, she quickly rode back to her lines, slicing and dicing several male cavalrymen to death along her way, and ordered a general retreat while they could still do so in an orderly fashion. The Amazon archers and light cavalry covered the retreat with their bows. Katarina, looking at them, ordered, “Let them go.”

“Congratulations on your victory, my Lady,” said one of her cavalry officers.

The Princess looked around the battlefield, surveying the heaps of her dead soldiers, including many high-ranking officers, and shook her head. “One more victory like this, and we are ruined,” she responded grimly.

* * *

The fat colonel (remember him?) groaned as he crawled along the canyon, leaving a trail of blood behind him. He was alive. Everyone around him was dead, but he was still alive. His right testicle had been pierced and destroyed by the arrow, but he still had his left. He still had his life. And he still had his desire for vengeance. The fat, stupid man had finally realized that Katarina had set him up. He would survive. He would make it back. He would get his revenge…

There was a whizzing sound, like the buzz of a bee, followed by a horrific pain in his chest. The colonel looked down and saw that he had been shot with another arrow. He took a few last gasping, wheezing breaths before expiring.

Livia, high up on the canyon rim, smirked as she lowered her crossbow. It was she who had first shot him in the groin with an expertly aimed arrow. Now, she had finished the job and salvaged some pride from this defeat at the hands of Katarina. The Amazon warrior spat down into the canyon before turning away.

* * *

“1600 men dead. One-quarter of our army,” reported Katarina’s chief of staff.

“Although only 1200 of those are real losses,” said a colonel. “Those 400 who died in the Battalion of Knuckleheads were just dead weight anyway.” Murmurs and nods came from the assembled officers. Nobody had liked those troublemakers, and none of them had any problem with Katarina’s decision to sacrifice them.

“How about the enemy?” asked the Princess.

“The Amazons suffered about 1400 dead. That’s more than a quarter of their force,” said her chief of staff.

“But they can bring up reinforcements almost immediately, while we have to wait weeks for ours to be brought from across the sea,” she responded. “In addition, General Norton’s bad defeat on the other side of the island has put us in a severe position of weakness. We will have to retreat to our interior line of forts despite the casualties we inflicted on the enemy today. Only when we receive full reinforcements can we go on the offensive again.”

“I have to admit, those female riders provided that extra push we needed,” said a general. “They came just in time.”

Katarina allowed herself a smile. “After seeing how well those girls performed in drills, I thought it was time to test them in battle. With their petite weight and fast riding speed, they’ll make an ideal light cavalry counterpart to our male heavy cavalry. All right, meeting adjourned. We’ve had a rough day and it’s time to get some rest.”

* * *


“Fourteen hundred Amazons dead? By the Mother Goddess, Livia, what have you done?” Amazon Princess Jenova said to her sister. “We have not seen slaughter of that magnitude among our people since the days of the civil wars.”

Princess Livia glared at her younger sister. “I killed more of them than they killed ours! And we can get reinforcements a lot easier than they can!”

“War of attrition is not the Amazon way! The Amazon way is to strike fast and hard, hammer the enemy while they don’t know what’s hitting them, and retreat before we get into a situation where we’ll take many losses!”

“You won an easy victory over a MALE commander, while I had to fight a WOMAN, and you think that makes you better than me?! You think defeating a mere MAN makes you a great warrior?”

“Girls, ENOUGH!” shouted their mother, the Amazon Queen. “There will be NO MORE ARGUING! Now, let’s move on to more important matters. Jenova, I understand you have some prisoners?”

“Yes, Mother. About two hundred males, including about twenty officers. I was planning to interrogate the officers as soon as I had the time. The grunts can be inspected, with the strong ones to become breeder slaves and the rest to become slaves in the fields.”

“Let me handle the interrogations,” said Livia, a cruel look appearing in her eyes.

“Mother, please don’t…” began Jenova.

The Queen looked at her daughters. “Quiet, both of you. Just remember, Livia, that the purpose of torture in interrogation is to extract information, not to satisfy a desire for revenge after a battle gone wrong. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Mother,” Livia pouted.

“Good. Now since you said there are about twenty officers, I see no reason why both of you can’t work on questioning them. As for me, I will inspect the grunts and personally select those I feel suitable for status as breeders.”

* * *


“A letter from the King, my Lady,” said the messenger, handing Katarina a sealed envelope.

“Thank you.” She opened the letter and began to shake as she read it:

“My dearest sister,

I am deeply saddened to report that our beloved father has died of a heart attack. As you know, he has named me heir to the throne. I am recalling you to the Imperial Capital immediately. Your silly island adventure has gone on long enough. A ship is waiting for you at the Colonial Capital.”

Katarina paused to wipe away the tears. Her father? Dead? Of a heart attack? It couldn’t be! He was in excellent health. No, her slimy brother must have had him poisoned! Earlier, she had been on the fence about being able to obey her brother’s orders, but that had been when she had thought her father would die a natural death. Now that her brother had revealed himself to be a vile sack of shit who murdered his own father, she knew that there was no way she could ever obey him. She clenched her fists, the muscles in her slender but muscular brown forearms rippling, as she continued to read:

“These gentlemen are here to escort you to the Imperial Capital and make sure you get there without any delays or misadventures.


King Frederick X.”

The Princess looked up and saw four burly men pointing muskets at her. The messenger lowered his head. “I’m sorry, my Lady. I had no choice. Your brother is holding my wife and daughter hostage.”

One of the men, wearing the uniform of a major, suddenly stabbed the messenger in the back with his bayonet, the tip sticking out of the front of his chest. He withdrew it with a squishing sound as the messenger slumped down. “Yes, and your usefulness is over now. After the king gets tired of them, he’ll give your wife and daughter to us as a reward for a job well done,” the murderer sneered to the dying man. He then looked up at Katarina. “Let’s go, Princess.” He spat the last word.

Katarina looked around. The major smirked. “You think we haven’t thought of that? I have three hundred men here, personally hand-picked by the new king, who are loyal to me and have been specially selected for not wanting to take orders from women. They are all armed and alert, ready to take the unsuspecting men who are loyal to you by total surprise. All I have to do is shout and there will be a massacre. Now I’m sure you don’t want that, so I’m sure you’ll go quietly.”

She looked down at her feet, nodding with a sigh.

“Excellent. All right, men, play it cool. To anyone who doesn’t know, we’re just escorting the Princess. She knows not to try anything.” He began moving towards the exit of the large tent, another man beside him. The other two formed up behind her. Katarina saw out of the corner of her eye that their muskets were shouldered, so not to look suspicious.

She struck with lightning speed, performing a spin kick that struck both the men behind her in the face, knocking them down. She then grabbed the major and his companion and bashed their heads together, stunning them. Snatching up one of the muskets, she stabbed one man in the heart with the attached bayonet, kicked another in the head with enough strength to both fracture his skull and break his neck, and simply beat the third to death with the butt of the musket.

Only the major was left. She stood over him, then suddenly stabbed the bayonet right into his throat.

“All you have to do is shout. Too bad you can’t do that.”

She savagely twisted the point of the weapon, then withdrew it with a squishing sound. Blood sprayed out like a fountain.

She cautiously peeked outside as the major expired. Sure enough, her tent was surrounded by hundreds of men in identical uniforms to those of the major and his three goons. Further in the distance, she saw her regulars, blue-and-white uniformed men who were loyal to her, but they were unprepared. They had no idea what was going on, and being safe in the fort, most of them didn’t even have weapons on them.

Katarina tucked two double-barreled pistols into her belt, making sure they were loaded. She tucked a knife into each of her knee-high black leather boots, sheathed a sword on her hip, and finally slung the musket over her shoulder. She took a deep breath.

“This is for you, Father.”

She slipped out the back of the tent, a knife in each hand. The two men guarding the rear exit had their throats ripped open before they knew what was happening. She quietly shoved their corpses into the tent.

She began making her way as rapidly and silently as she could towards the nearest cluster of her loyal soldiers. If she was lucky, she could…

“Hey, she’s getting away!”

The enemy soldiers, who had been milling about, bored, jerked to attention. Katarina was already in action. She emptied both of her double-barreled pistols, killing the shouting man and three others. Tossing the empty weapons aside and drawing her knives, she stabbed a nearby man in the heart, then hurled both knives at a pair of soldiers taking aim at her with their muskets. Both dropped dead, one with a blade in his throat and the other with one in his eye.

“TRAITORS AND MURDERERS!” she shouted. “LOYAL SOLDIERS, YOUR PRINCESS NEEDS YOU!” There wasn’t time for proper explanations, but the soldiers had already heard the shots. Seeing these new, differently attired men attacking their Princess, the loyal soldiers sprang into action. A quick volley from several of them slammed into a squadron of enemies who had been taking aim at her.

Katarina raced for the cover of a large boulder. Two enemies popped up in her way, preparing to fire. She shot one dead with her musket, then suddenly did a standing layout backflip, being athletic enough to pull off the flip despite wearing a long dress. The second man’s musket ball flew safely between her legs as she was upside down.

She landed elegantly on her booted feet and charged him as he drew a pistol. Lashing out with her sword, she cut his hand off, snatched the pistol in midair, and whirled and shot dead another enemy who had been about to fire at her. She then turned back to the screaming one-handed man.

“No, please…”

She cut off his head, shutting him up.

Looking back again, she saw more enemies advancing. A gun battle had broken out between the loyal men and the traitors, but the traitors had the advantage of preparation and greater numbers. Seeing several muskets being aimed at her, she threw herself into a cartwheel followed by a series of fast back handsprings. Her elegant, blindingly fast backflips in the style of a pro-gymnast allowed her to dodge the musket balls fired at her. She finished her tumbling run with a high back tuck that took her over the boulder to land safely on the other side. She swiftly reloaded the pistol she had appropriated, then began reloading her musket.

She heard a noise behind her and whirled, aiming the pistol. An enemy was standing there, with the tip of a bayonet sticking out from his chest. The weapon was withdrawn and the corpse kicked down, revealing one of her officers standing behind him.

“Thank you, Colonel,” she said, squeezing his hand gratefully.

“Any time, my Princess.” He smiled as she went back to loading her musket.

On the parade grounds lay the corpses of a dozen loyal soldiers who had made a heroic stand. In front of them were at least fifty dead traitors. Still, Katarina knew that she and her allies were badly outnumbered. She alternated between firing her musket and pistol, while the colonel leaned out and fired from the other side of the boulder. Even though every one of their shots found its mark, and more loyal soldiers were firing at the enemy from different positions, there were perhaps twenty of her allies left alive, facing over two hundred enemies.

Katarina and her loyal men shot enemies dead by the dozens, but the enemy pressed on by sheer weight of numbers. One by one her blue-and-white coated allies were shot down. There were only a few left now. Was this how it was going to end?

Suddenly, a loud, clear female voice rang out. “Take aim! Fire!”

Musket balls slammed into the traitors, killing over half of them with a single devastating volley. Sure enough, in the distance stood a company of female Royalist soldiers in their sexy uniforms. The front line of girls knelt down, reloading their weapons and revealing a second line of ladies with muskets aimed.

The surviving enemies, suddenly facing fire from two sides, tried to turn around. They were greeted by a volley from the second female line. Blood splattered.

The few traitors left alive dropped their weapons and either raised their hands in surrender or began running away. The first line of female soldiers, who had finished reloading, coolly shot down the running men with expert precision. The second line charged the surrendering men with their bayonets, brutally stabbing them to death, showing them no mercy and giving the cowardly traitors exactly what they had coming. One enemy ran right by Katarina’s boulder. She stuck out her leg, tripping him and sending him to the dirt face first. Before he could get up, she stabbed him in the back with her sword. She spat on the corpse. A coward’s death for a traitor.

“My Princess,” said the female captain in command of the girl-soldiers, bowing.

“Rise, Captain,” Katarina said, giving her a hug. “You saved our lives.”

“So what happens now?” asked a female lieutenant.

“Little F probably already has an army on its way. Handpicked men who are loyal to him,” said the colonel grimly.

“Well, we…” Katarina began. Just then, a messenger rode up, staring at all the dead bodies.

“I’ll explain later,” said the Princess. “From the look on your face, you have something important to report.”

“Yes, my Lady. Amazons are approaching, two days’ march away. Eight thousand of them. A force of equal size marches on San Sebastian in the south.”

“By the gods,” murmured Katarina. “Talk about being caught between a rock and a hard place.”

They stood in the already battered stone fort, men and women together, knowing they faced an army of angry woman-haters on one side and an army of angry man-haters on the other. As if on cue, dark clouds covered the sun and a cold wind began to blow.



Tales from the Amazon Wars, Episode 5

The two Amazon princesses, daughters of the great Queen, sat alone in the large command tent in the middle of the Amazon war camp. Livia, the older sister, the fiery woman with long straight auburn hair who was heiress to the throne, moved some figurines of army women across a map. “Take three brigades and attack the enemy on the other side of the island. I’ll take these five brigades here and attack that Katarina, that woman who fights for those men, and bring her down once and for all.”

Jenova, the calmer and more patient younger sister, ran a finger through her curly, shoulder-length jet black hair. “Only three? Let’s divide them evenly, four and four. The armies each of us will face are the same size.”

“You have the easy job,” said Livia. “All you have to do is defeat an army led by a man. I have to defeat a female commander. Now get your girls moving. You’ve got a long march ahead of you.”

“Yes, sister,” sighed Jenova reluctantly, departing the tent.

Livia watched her go, then ran her fingers over the map, knocking over the male figurines that represented the enemy. From the reports her scouts had brought her, Livia knew she would be facing perhaps 6000, or 6500 at the most, Royalist soldiers. Her force of 5000 Amazons should be able to defeat them easily. She had won facing worse odds many times before.

* * *

Princess Katarina, daughter of King Frederick IX and commander of the Royalist Army that had been sent to this island to defeat the Amazons, tossed and turned in her tent, unable to sleep. Every time she closed her eyes, she kept seeing those words from that letter from her father:

“I am naming your younger brother heir to the throne.”

Frederick Junior. Little F. Little Fuck-up. Her younger brother was far too incompetent to ever make a good king. But because of her father’s reasoning – that he feared she would be assassinated by power-hungry nobles who preferred the easy-to-manipulate Little F as ruler if she was named queen – the stupid young Little Fuck-up was being given this undeserved chance.

Despite his misguided decision, she loved her father. She would never betray him. As long as he was in charge, she would fight for king and country. But when Little F ascended to the throne…that would be a different story. Her two choices when that happened – obeying her idiotic little brother’s orders or committing treason – seemed equally repulsive. Luckily, it was a decision she would hopefully not have to make for many years. Her father was getting on in age, but was still strong and in good health.

She yawned. Running her fingers through her long silky black hair, she turned over and went to sleep.

* * *

General Norton sat on his horse, frowning as he surveyed his army. The general had been sent to lead this half of the Royalist relief force while Katarina led the other half. The army had marched out strong, 6000 infantry and 1000 cavalry, the same size as Katarina’s force. He wondered how she was doing, on the other side of the island. He was a capable officer – she wouldn’t have chosen him to lead if he had not been – but no man in the King’s army could match the Princess’s intelligence, leadership, or fighting skills.

His army was not so strong now, he thought worriedly. The small bands of Amazon troops had fallen back before the advance of his large force. But as they marched further inland, Amazon archers had begun nailing the fringes of his army with lethally accurate arrows, targeting officers first and always getting away before the Royalists could mount an effective response. Although the casualties they had taken were relatively light – about two hundred men dead – the disproportionate loss of officers and the fact that the Royalists had been unable to retaliate was crippling to morale. The biggest losses had come from desertion. Over a thousand men had deserted, some from simple cowardice and some tempted by greedy slick talkers who promised them riches and women if they became bandits roaming the countryside. Norton had ordered captured deserters beheaded to make examples of them, but still the desertions continued.

* * *

The band of 30 thuggish-looking deserters, hidden in the trees, smirked as they looked down at the three Amazon wagons passing by on the road below, each driven by a single teenage girl. After abandoning the Royalist army, they had raped and pillaged their way across the countryside, attacking their own citizens. Now, they would attack these girls. They didn’t care who they killed. They had lost all honor, if they had had any in the first place. The men aimed their muskets, waiting for the signal to fire.

But suddenly, all three wagon covers were ripped away, revealing half a dozen Amazon archers hidden in each wagon. With blinding speed and deadly accuracy, they released their arrows. Eighteen shots. Eighteen men dropped dead. At the same time, each of the girls driving the wagons drew hidden knives and threw them. Three more males dropped, blades driven straight into their hearts.

The survivors screamed in fear, panic, and shock. Some began running away, while others fired off their muskets, none of the bullets finding their mark. The Amazons reloaded and fired a second volley.

* * *

“My Princess Jenova. I bring you a gift,” said the slender, pretty teenage girl. She motioned with her slim wrist, bracelets sliding as she raised her arm, and two equally petite girls shoved forward two male captives, each wounded with an arrow right in their buttocks. The girls savagely kicked their victims, then yanked them up by their hair. “Show your faces to the Princess.”

“And what have we here?” asked Jenova.

“Deserters from the Royalist army, milady. They’ve been raping and pillaging their way across the countryside, attacking friend and foe alike. They thought they could ambush one of our caravans. Of course we outsmarted them. There were thirty of them. These are the only survivors.”

Jenova calmly walked up to the first prisoner. “You will tell me everything you know about the strength and position of the Royalist army.”

“Like hell I will, bitch,” he spat at her. Despite having deserted from the army and having no loyalty to it, he didn’t want to talk because he was a sexist pig who hated the idea of obeying a woman.

The Amazon princess, in one fluid motion, drew her sword and cut off his head. Ignoring the blood splattering all over her dress, she turned to the second captive and said, “You will tell me…”

“Yes, yes, of course! I’ll tell you everything!” He was shrieking, sobbing, begging for his life to be spared.

“Squeeze all you can out of him, then use him for target practice,” Jenova whispered to the teenage girl next to her. The girl nodded and smirked. Jenova crossed her slender but muscular arms in front of her as she watched. She wasn’t a sadist like her sister, but cowardly deserters who raped and pillaged even their own people deserved no mercy.

* * *

“The Amazons are coming! The Amazons are coming!” shouted the scout. “General Norton, the Amazons are charging! Cavalry coming up on us very fast! Infantry behind them!”

The general looked off into the distance in alarm. 500 Amazon heavy cavalry were charging the front part of his long column of marching soldiers, their lances already lowered. Further back, he could see a thousand female archers, accompanied by a thousand swordswomen, jogging towards the scene of the coming battle, their fit bodies showing no sign of getting tired. In the rear, Princess Jenova, in command, sat on her horse, calling out orders.

The Royalists were in panic mode, despite the attacking Amazon force being only half their size. Some fired their muskets wildly, but the ragged shots had no chance of stopping the powerful charge of the horsewomen. As they frantically tried to reload their muskets, they froze in fear as it became clear that the Amazons would crash into them before they could fire their second shots. Some of the men dropped their weapons and raised their hands in surrender. It did them no good. The sexy warrior maidens, showing no mercy, rode into them, impaling male soldiers with their lances or simply trampling them to death. Other men tried to run away, but they were swiftly ridden down by the girls or slain with well-aimed axe throws to their retreating backs.

“FORM SQUARES, YOU FOOLS!” roared General Norton. “FORM SQUARES!” The Royalist soldiers finally began forming up. It was too late for many of them, who were slaughtered by the Amazon riders before they could get into formation, but the surviving infantry managed to group themselves into four large squares of a thousand men each, with the commanding officers clustered in the center of each one. A thousand infantrymen already lay dead on the field.

General Norton and his staff officers, on a small hill to the rear of his army, barked more orders as he continued observing the scene. “Artillerymen, get those cannons set up, and start blasting the enemy! Cavalry, hold but be prepared to charge at a moment’s notice!”

The Royalist force was well-equipped with 20 cannons, but the slow, clumsy weapons took time to set up. Meanwhile, Jenova, recognizing the danger the squares would pose to her cavalry despite never having seen those tactics before, uttered a sharp command and through a rapid relay of signals, her horsewomen retreated under orders and regrouped in the rear.

In their place, the female archers marched up and began firing into the squares with their powerful longbows. Despite being outnumbered four to one, the longbow-women were able to dominate the field with their long-range weapons, which could kill at 300 yards, while the Royalists’ muskets had an effective range of only 100 yards. Slowly but steadily, male bodies began dropping with arrows impaled in them, while the musket balls they fired back at the enemy fell short into the ground.

Finally, the cannons, set up in four rows of five each, were ready. They began blasting the girl-archers with grapeshot and canister. The longbow-women’s arrows couldn’t reach the cannons, but they continued firing into the musketeers, who still couldn’t hit back with the shorter range of their weapons. “Infantry into line formation. Prepare to advance,” ordered General Norton.

Jenova scowled as she watched the scene. Livia had refused to allow her to take any of the cannons the Amazons had captured with her army, saying they had to march quickly across the island and the artillery would slow them down too much. Now she would have to make do with what she had.

She knew she had to act fast. As the blue-coated Royalists shifted from one formation to another, she gave a signal with her fist. Immediately, the thousand Amazon swordswomen charged straight at the male infantry with spine-chilling warrior cries. As soon as they got within a hundred yards, they threw their athletic female bodies into cartwheels followed by back handsprings, elegantly backflipping at incredible speed towards their targets.

The male soldiers were not yet properly formed into lines, and their musket fire was ragged and ineffective, only scoring a few lucky hits. The cannons fired into the charging swordswomen, but the Amazons were charging in a loose formation instead of being densely packed, limiting the effectiveness of the artillery. In less than twenty seconds, the rapidly flick-flacking girls crashed into the male soldiers, forcing the cannoneers to stop firing so they wouldn’t hit their own men. The swordswomen, each wielding a blade in each hand, easily sliced and diced their way through their male victims, the Royalists’ bayonets being no match for them. Slowly but steadily, they began chewing up the much larger male army.

Then a war horn sounded. The Amazon heavy cavalry were charging again. General Norton barked more orders. “Cavalry, intercept the enemy riders! Artillery, soften up the horsewomen, then switch to the archers when our boys ride into them!”

At first, it seemed to be working, although the cannons weren’t able to do much damage to the Amazon cavalry because of the speed of their charge. But the Royalist cavalry attacked their female counterparts, seemingly pinning them between the infantry and themselves…

Suddenly, 500 light horsewomen charged out of the nearby woods where they had been hiding. Jenova had kept them in reserve, waiting for a situation just like this. Now, the Amazon light cavalry attacked with arrows and thrown spears and axes from the other side, making it the Royalist cavalry’s turn to be facing a double-sided attack. Panicking, the surviving male riders urged their horses away in a rapid retreat until they were under the covering fire of the cannons.

Now freed, the Amazon heavy cavalry rode straight into the mass of male infantry, lancing and trampling everything in their path and splitting the Royalist force in two. They, along with the swordswomen, completely surrounded the far half of the male army, while horse archers and longbow-women fired over their comrades’ heads and into the trapped men. Meanwhile, Jenova detached part of the female infantry from the main Amazon army and personally charged forward to lead the small force of swordswomen and archers to attack the other half of the Royalist army.

“Retreat!” shouted General Norton. “First line of cannons, keep firing! Cover the retreat and hold off the enemy for as long as possible! Get the rest of the cannons hitched up to the horses and get them out of here!”

“My lord,” said one of his staff officers. “What about the men on the far side?”

The general shook his head. “They’re lost. All we can do now is save the other half of the army.”

“And the front line of cannons?”

“Better to lose five cannons than twenty.”

The staff officer gulped and nodded, glad that he was not one of the expendables.

Men, horses, and cannons hurried away from the battlefield as fast as they could. When they had passed, the soldiers manning the front line of five cannons that had been ordered to cover the retreat were left alone on a ridge, firing desperately at the screaming, charging Amazons led by sexy Jenova.

An explosion of canister blew several Amazons in the front rank to pieces and splattered Jenova with blood. Some of the younger girls began to hesitate, but the Amazon princess, with a shrill shriek, drew back her bow and fired a perfectly aimed shot right into the heart of a man just before he could light the fuse to another cannon. With cheers, the Amazons, now in archery range, fired a devastating volley into the cannoneers. The survivors turned and ran, but were all shot down by a second volley.

General Norton took one last, sad look at the scene below him before turning his horse away. In the distance, the surrounded men were screaming, begging, pleading, their horrified cries audible even at the great distance. He shook his head. It was them or the whole army.

“Secure these cannons!” Jenova ordered. “Drag them back to our lines. Archers, cover them and drive off anyone who tries to take the cannons back, but do not pursue.” With that, she rode back to the main force of Amazons.

In the middle of the deadly trap, there were only a few hundred men left alive, surrounded by piles of male corpses. The highest-ranking Royalist left, a colonel, raised a white flag of surrender.

“What say you, milady?” the commander of the archers asked Jenova. “Do we take prisoners or slaughter them all?”

“I’ll handle this,” said the Princess. “Cease fire!” she ordered. The girl-archers looked at her, most of them wanting to continue the massacre, but obeyed their Princess’s order.

“Drop your weapons!” Jenova ordered the men. “Form one line, facing me! Officers, stand in a separate group over there!”

The terrified males quickly obeyed her command. Because the Amazons were wearing their traditional leather uniforms of short shorts, tank tops, and knee-high boots, showing off their tanned, muscular bodies, many of the men had hard-ons despite their fear. Some of the men who were badly wounded remained on the ground, moaning. Even some of the wounded males had erections.

Jenova, smirking to herself at the men “standing at attention,” addressed the line of enlisted men. “Starting from this end, every third man step forward!”

Again they obeyed. The Amazon Princess raised her arm, then lowered it. A perfectly aimed volley of arrows slammed into the soldiers who had been ordered forward, each arrow striking its target right between the eyes. A hundred men fell dead in complete unison. The males still standing quivered in terror. Some wet their pants.

Jenova addressed the survivors coldly. “I am capable of showing mercy. I will never show weakness. That demonstration was to assure you that what I am showing now is the former and not the latter. You are now the property of the Amazon Nation. Accept your fate, and you will live. Resist, and you will die.”

Unarmed, she walked fearlessly up to the line of men, most of whom were taller than her and all of whom were heavier than the slender girl. She strolled in front of them, looking straight into the frightened eyes of each captive she passed, and stopped in front of one. “What are you?”

“I am a soldier of the Royalist army, loyal servant of His Majesty, King Fred…”

With lightning speed, Jenova performed a standing backflip, kicking the speaker in the underside of his jaw. Her backflip kick was so powerful that it broke his neck instantly with a sickening CRACK. The odd angle of his neck as he fell to the dirt left no doubt that he was now a corpse.

The Princess’s face remained expressionless as she landed perfectly on her booted feet. She turned to the next man. “What are y…”

“I am a humble male slave, the property of the Amazon Nation!” he cried in panic. She smirked. Looking at the other men, her gaze was met with submissive lowerings of heads. She nodded in satisfaction, then, with a series of elegant standing back handsprings, made her way back to her officers.

“Shackle the men and march them off with the other spoils of battle,” she ordered. “Keep the officers separate, I’m going to interrogate them later. Any man who is wounded too badly to walk…put him out of his misery.”

* * *

Princess Katarina’s army marched through the green, rolling hills towards Amazon territory. Like she had earlier, Katarina rode up and down the column, checking in with each of her high-ranking officers, making sure that everything was all right and keeping a sharp eye out for any Amazon ambushes.

Suddenly, there was a commotion from the rear. “A messenger!” came a shout. A haggard-looking soldier rode up and handed the Princess a sealed envelope.

“For your eyes only, my Lady.”

“Thank you.” She found a private spot to the side of the column, then opened the letter. She cursed as she read it.

Katarina rode over to her chief of staff. “Norton suffered a bad defeat. He lost half his army and five of his cannons. The survivors have retreated to our fortifications at San Sebastian, licking their wounds.”

The male officer shook his head. “Perhaps if I had been in command of that force…”

She gave him a hard stare. “Most likely, your army would have suffered the same fate. It appears that it takes a woman to stand up to the might of these Amazons. I hope you are not questioning my decisions on who to appoint as my division commanders.”

“Of c…course not, my Princess. I’m sorry.”

“That’s what I thought. Now, back to business. If we can defeat the enemy on this side of the island, we can secure the northern flank of our territory, then march south again and intercept any enemy that might be coming to attack.” She raised her arm, bracelets sliding down her slender wrist. “Messenger!”

The haggard rider hurried over. “Yes, milady?”

“Get a message to my father. I want two full divisions of reinforcements from the mainland. And one more message, this one for the Colonial Capital.” She whispered into his ear and he nodded.

“Yes, my Princess.” He swiftly rode off into the distance.

Katarina turned back to her chief of staff. “Until we get those reinforcements, with Norton’s losses we simply don’t have the manpower for large-scale offensive operations. After this battle we’ll have to confine ourselves to defending the part of the island between San Sebastian in the south and Fort Osweiler in the north until fresh troops arrive. Keep Norton’s defeat secret, I don’t want the men’s morale to drop into the toilet. I’m going up ahead to talk with the scouts.”

Katarina rode up to the scout commander. “What have you to report, Captain?”

“This open country continues for a little while longer, my Lady. However, sometime tomorrow the main route would take us into a narrow canyon. It would be…you know.”

She nodded. “Way too easy for the Amazons to ambush us there. We’ll have to come up with an alternate plan.” She looked at the sun, low in the western sky. “Keep on for another hour, then we’ll make camp for the night.”



Girl With Gun 2: Horrible Boss

Lissette was having a good day.

Mostly because it was Sunday, and she didn’t have to work. She had slept in until about 9:30, then gone out for a three-mile run. After that, it was workout time in her basement, lifting weights and practicing her punches and kicks on the big bag she had hung down there. Next came a filling and delicious but healthy brunch, followed by an appointment with her hairdresser to get her long black hair coiffed.

Now she was at the shooting range, practicing with her trusty .45 pistol. Taking aim, she imagined that her target was her asshole boss who had lied to his boss and tried to blame her for a mistake that he had made. She fired five rapid shots, paused and adjusted her aim, fired five more rounds, and ejected the now empty magazine. She reeled in the silhouette target and smiled with satisfaction. Five perfect shots to the heart, five perfect shots to the head.

She saw a couple of male stares out of the corner of her eye and smiled to herself. Although she was used to getting male attention almost anywhere she went, it was particularly common at the range, since so many guys were into girls with guns. Lissette had a model-like, high-cheekboned face, large dark brown eyes, a deep Latina tan, and a slender, athletic 5’7″, 120-pound figure. Although she was a tomboy and loved masculine things like shooting, football, and kickboxing, she knew how to be graceful and feminine as well. Her new coiffure, along with her outfit of a long, elegant, sleeveless red dress and knee-high black leather boots, emphasized her beauty and femininity.

She turned towards the men who had been staring at her. They blushed and quickly looked away. She giggled. The good thing about being hit on at the range was that the guys were always polite, respectful, and cautious to her there. Sometimes too cautious. When she was in the mood for a little flirting, sometimes she found herself having to make the first move.

Lissette swiftly and expertly loaded a fresh magazine into her gun and chambered a round. She went back to shooting, going through four more full magazines, each resulting in the same deadly accuracy on her targets as the first one. As she was leaving, she noticed that many of the men there were giving her looks that were a combination of sexual attraction and intimidation. She simply walked out with a calm and confident smile.

After a quick stop at her house to clean and put away her gun and wash up, she headed out to the local sports bar to meet up with her friends, watch Sunday Night Football, and enjoy beer and various deep-fried foods. Three hours later, as the fourth quarter wound down and the Green Bay Packers (once again) celebrated a victory over the Chicago Bears, she and her friends cheered. Yes, today had been a good day. If only tomorrow could be as good, she thought to herself as she drove home. Tomorrow it was back to work. Back to her obnoxious boss.

But it didn’t have to be that way. It didn’t have to be bad. She thought back to that moment with the road-rage asshole who had chased her. She remembered how good it had felt when she pulled her gun on him, when she slowly closed the trap around him as he begged for mercy, when she finally finished him with a shot to the head. The thrill, the rush, the feeling of pure power. Not to mention the feeling of delivering justice to someone who had been arrogant and abusive to everyone around him his whole life.

Her feelings were not without some caution. After killing him, she had been paranoid for several days, wondering if she would get caught, wondering if anyone knew, wondering if there would be a sudden midnight knock on her door. But after weeks had passed with no sign of the police, she had allowed herself to feel more confidence. She had gotten away with it.

It wasn’t that she disliked who she had been before. She was Lissette the athletic tomboy with a feminine streak, Lissette the ex-cheerleader, Lissette the intelligent, ambitious young woman with the degree from Stanford. She liked being all those things. But she had always wanted to be something more. And when fate had placed her in that situation with the road-rage asshole, she had discovered it. Now, she could be Lissette the skilled assassin, who could still blend into mainstream society. She could go from charming saleswoman in business attire to gun-toting badass in two seconds. She could be the kind of woman who performed better than any of the men around her, whether the situation was having the best sales numbers or surviving a zombie apocalypse.

As she parked her car in her driveway, she took a deep breath. Did she really want to go through with this? She had done one killing and escaped detection. She could quit while she was ahead. But then she would just go back to being Jane Doe instead of Sarah Connor. She would be fair, she decided. She would give her boss one last chance to repent and admit he had been wrong. If he didn’t…

Satisfied, she nodded to herself. No matter what, she would get a good night’s sleep tonight.

Monday morning found Lissette and her boss, Kirk, meeting with Kirk’s boss, Aurora, to try to resolve the situation. Lissette scowled as Kirk told his side of the story, continuing to lie and blame her for causing a client to cancel a large order, when in reality it had been all his fault. Well, she had given him his fair chance and he had blown it. Now, she would feel no guilt about taking the Sarah Connor path.

When it was her turn to speak, Lissette calmly defended herself, holding in her anger at her asshole boss. She went on to question why Kirk had been promoted over her in the first place, pointing out that her sales numbers consistently had been better than his, and wondering if maybe, just maybe, the fact that the company’s executive vice president was Kirk’s uncle had anything to do with it. That brought an angry shout from Kirk and a sharp warning from Aurora. “Quiet, both of you.”

Lissette looked over at her. Aurora was known as a tough but fair supervisor with a very rational, non-emotional personality, much like Juror No. 4 from Twelve Angry Men.

Aurora sighed, running her fingers through her hair. “Listen up. I hate this part of the job. I hate playing referee, especially when all I have is a he-said-she-said situation with no real proof of anything. So here’s what I’m going to do. I’m not going to hand out any punishments. I’m going to trust both of you to do the best you can in dealing with our clients. Any talk of business lost or gained will wait until the next quarterly review. I think we’re done here.” Aurora stood up and walked out of the small conference room without another word.

Lissette gave Kirk an icy glare. “You know what you did.”

He simply smirked. “Yeah, but they don’t, and that’s what counts.” Snickering, he exited the room cockily.

Left alone, Lissette clenched her fists, causing the muscles in her slender but muscular forearms to ripple. He was going to pay. He would pay the ultimate price.

That afternoon, Lissette knocked on the door of Kirk’s office. “Come in,” he said. He scowled when he saw it was her. “What do you want?”

She gave him her most seductive fake smile. “Look, I’m sorry I snapped at you earlier. I really like this job and I really want to do well. If you could give me a good evaluation, I could do something for you in return…” As she spoke, she undid the top button on her white blouse, giving him a tantalizing partial view of her small, firm, darkly tanned 34B tits. The scowl on Kirk’s ugly face was immediately replaced by a look of sexual attraction, and a bulge appeared underneath his pants.

“Sure, I can do that,” he said, lewdly licking his lips. Lissette resisted the urge to roll her eyes. He was so predictable. So fucking easy.

“How about tonight at your place?” she asked. “I want the two of us to be completely alone. I don’t want anyone to disturb us or find out what we’re doing.”

“Oh, trust me, we’ll be alone. I’ve got a lot of ideas I want to try out.” He turned to look out the window, pumping his fist in what he foolishly thought was victory. She took the opportunity to roll her eyes for real.

“I’ll be there at eight then. Make sure to bring that with you.” She pointed at his bulge, causing him to look down and blush with embarrassment. Buttoning her blouse back up, she smiled in triumph as soon as her back was turned to him. He had no idea that he had only a few hours left to live.

Lissette examined her reflection in her car window one last time. She was wearing thigh-high black stockings, black ankle boots with razor-sharp stiletto high heels, a black miniskirt, black leather gloves, and the white blouse she had been wearing earlier. Her long, slender, muscular killer legs were on full display. The sleeves of her blouse were rolled up to her elbows, showing off her slim but well-muscled, heavily developed, tanned brown forearms with prominent veins. The top button of the blouse was once again undone to display her cleavage, and she wore neither bra nor panties. Her trusty and lethal .45 pistol was securely strapped to her right thigh underneath her skirt. Satisfied with her looks, she grinned wickedly to herself. This was going to be fun.

She walked to the front door, making sure no one saw her, and rang the bell. Kirk opened the door. His eyes bulged out when he saw how Lissette was dressed. Something else lower down bulged out too. “Come in. Wow, you look amazing.”

“Thank you,” she replied with her best fake smile. “By the way, on the drive here I was just thinking…I know this great makeout and fuck spot on a bluff overlooking the lake. I discovered it when my high school sweetheart and I were looking for a new place. It’s completely secret. No one else knows about it. I think it would be so sexy to do the naughty there…”

“Wherever,” said Kirk. “Just as long as I get some of that tight pussy.” His erection was straining to get out of his pants. Girls in thigh-high stockings drove him wild.

She tried to hide her disgust. “Great. Get in my car and I’ll drive us there.”

Thirty minutes later, Lissette parked her car on the deserted bluff. Kirk had tried to fondle her breasts on the way over, but she had successfully stopped him by saying she didn’t want to get in an accident. She got out and stood on the grass, the moonlight illuminating her beautiful body.

Kirk was debating whether to demand sex from her on a regular basis in exchange for continued positive evaluations, or simply use her sexually for one night and then betray her by not following through on his promises. Although the continued sex was tempting, he still resented her for standing up to his bullying. Fucking and dumping her would make him feel like a big man for once.

Although Kirk drew a reasonably good salary, his unattractive looks, lack of athletic ability, lack of intellect, and ultra-obnoxious personality made him highly unpopular with the opposite sex. He tried to pretend to his coworkers that he was a “player,” having loud phone conversations with imaginary girlfriends, constantly boasting about nonexistent hot dates, and other lame tactics. Once he had seen a couple of sexy stewardesses at the mall, doing a promotion for a new airline and posing for pictures with passers-by. He had gotten the idea of taking a picture with one of them, then showing it to everyone at work and telling them she was his new girlfriend. But the hot flight attendants had somehow known exactly what he had been planning to do. Not only had they refused to pose with him, they had also loudly announced his failed plan to the entire crowd of people there. He felt his face redden as he recalled the public humiliation. Sometimes he feared that his coworkers knew he was bullshitting. (His fears were justified).

At least he wasn’t a virgin, he told himself as he tried to cheer himself up. Even though no girl had ever actually agreed to have sex with him. Kirk’s mind wandered back to his only sexual experience. At a college party, a group of basketball players had drugged a girl’s drink, then taken her upstairs and gang-raped her. After they had finished, he had snuck upstairs and “lost” his virginity by raping the almost unconscious girl. He was incredibly insecure about his lack of sexual success, and he constantly replayed the disgraceful sexual assault in his mind. In his twisted way of thinking, it was the only thing he had. Even the basketball players would have beaten him up if they had found out what he had done.

He looked over at sexy Lissette. Finally, an incredibly hot woman was throwing herself at him. After tonight, he would finally be a man. She looked back at him, her dark brown eyes seeming to pierce right through him. Although at 5’10” and 165 pounds he was bigger than her, with her three-inch high heels her eyes were on the same level as his. In addition, he could see how muscular, athletic, and tanned her body was in comparison to his flabby, out-of-shape, pale one. That fact gave him a strange mix of insecurity and sexual attraction towards her.

She smiled at him seductively. “Close your eyes,” she whispered. Thinking she was going to strip and reveal herself to him nude, he obeyed.

He felt her place her hands on his shoulders. Then, suddenly, a fiery pain erupted in his groin. His eyes flew open and he collapsed to the ground, clutching his badly brutalized family jewels. Sure enough, Lissette was standing over him, her stocking-clad left leg still raised after her devastating knee to his crotch. “Uggghhh…what the fuck?” he groaned when he was finally able to speak.

She glared down at him. The phony warmth had vanished and was replaced with cold, icy hatred. “Are you seriously that fucking stupid? Did you really think I would EVER have sex with a vile, disgusting creep like you? You thought you were going to screw me? Well, you’ve screwed me over for the last time. I lured you out here where there were no witnesses, and you fell for it hook, line, and sinker. Now, I’m going to have my revenge. Now, I’m going to screw YOU. But not in the good way.” She viciously stomped on his face with her razor-sharp stiletto heel, leaving a deep, bloody wound on his left cheek.

Kirk stumbled to his feet. All the air seemed to have rushed out of his body. Once again, a beautiful woman had tricked and outsmarted him! Once again, he had to be reminded of how undesirable he was to the opposite sex!

His shame turned to anger. Arrogantly, he thought that the mere fact that he was a man and she was a woman meant that he could defeat her in combat. “Bitch,” he growled as he swung a punch at her face. She blocked it easily with her slender but muscular forearm, then drove her right fist into his flabby gut. As he doubled over and lost his breath, she punched him in the face with her gloved left. The impact from the rough leather opened up a bloody cut on his right cheek.

“Wimp,” she taunted him. “I’m more of a man than you could ever be.” She bounced up and down in her trained kickboxer’s stance, knowing he didn’t know how to fight, knowing how easily she could dominate him.

“Fucking cunt!” he roared, finally getting his breath back. He swung another wild punch at her. She danced out of the way easily and kicked him in the chest, knocking him backwards, her heel making a small but painful hole in his torso. The pretty Latina then became a brunette blur as she executed a cartwheel, kicking him in the head with both feet and knocking her victim down with the force of her exotic cart wheel kick. She kicked him hard in the side as he was down with the toe of her boot, breaking one of his ribs.

As he looked down at his bleeding chest and felt the pain from his broken rib, an icy chill came over Kirk. Slowly, he was realizing that this thin, hot chick was fully capable of killing him. For the first time, his brain began processing the cold fact that he was in mortal danger. He had to escape. He got up, grunting and cursing, and began to run.

Lissette smirked. Spinning around, her long black hair flying behind her, she began doing a series of standing back handsprings towards her fleeing opponent. Each time she was upside down, her bare crotch with its pubic hair neatly trimmed down to a landing strip became visible. She was slowly catching up to him, elegantly backflipping with a skill, grace, and speed that would make any Olympic gymnast jealous.

Kirk looked over his shoulder and was puzzled to see the attractive brunette back flipping towards him instead of running. Still, she was moving incredibly fast. He tried to turn on the jets and increase his speed. Unfortunately for him, he was already a slow runner, and his injuries slowed him down even more. The distance between them shrank slowly but surely as Lissette continued to execute her back hand springs, her muscular wrists and booted feet rhythmically landing on and pushing off from the grass. Flick-flack, flick-flack, flick-flack. She caught him after fifteen hand springs, crashing into him and knocking him down.

She sat on him, wiggling her ass, rubbing it in, humiliating him, and laughed. “I’m a girl and you’re a man, and I was doing back handsprings and you were running. And I was still far too quick for you!” Despite his fear and shame, Kirk felt his rod stiffening in his pants. He had always had a fetish for girls who could do back flips, much of it motivated schmoe-style by the knowledge that he could never be athletic enough to perform moves like that.

Lissette felt his hard-on underneath her and glared down at him in disgust. “You fucking pervert. Don’t tell me you’re also one of those douchebags who has a fetish for gymnast girls! I had enough trouble with those types when I was a high school cheerleader practicing my flick flacks.” She punched him in the face several times with her leather-gloved fists. When she was done, her helpless victim had two black eyes, a broken nose, and three loose teeth. Lissette used a kip-up to athletically get back to her feet. “I bet that’s another thing a woman can do that you can’t,” she mocked him.

Sure enough, Kirk got up with a slow, clumsy stumble. As soon as he had finished standing up straight, she unleashed a devastating cheerleader-style high kick to his face, ripping a long, bloody cut from chin to forehead with her high heel and sending him to the grass once again. She spread open the fallen male’s legs, then kicked him in the groin with her booted feet several times with all her strength, sending his testicles back up somewhere into his body.

Kirk had passed out from the sheer, vicious power of her brutal kicks. Smirking in triumph, Lissette yanked down his pants and underwear, then flipped him over, leaving him on the ground with his vulnerable ass exposed in the air. Reaching underneath her miniskirt, she drew her .45 pistol and waited.

Kirk awoke with a moan. He began trying to turn over, but stopped cold when Lissette pressed the barrel of her gun into the back of his skull.

“I love guns,” she said casually. “I love the feeling of power I get when I fire them. I love knowing that I can beat most guys easily at a shooting competition. And I love knowing that I can use them to solve problems.” At that last sentence, a shiver ran down Kirk’s spine.

“Please, Miss Lissette,” he begged. “I’m sorry for everything I did to you! I’ll give you anything you want. I’ll resign from my job and let you have my position. Just don’t kill me!”

“You have your phone with you?” she demanded.

“Right pants pocket. My iPhone’s in there.”

She took it out. “Give me your email password. Your job for your life.” He recited a series of letters and numbers, which Lissette entered into the phone. She nodded as his email inbox opened up. “Don’t bother with writing a resignation letter, I’ll write it for you.”

“Okay. You got what you wanted. Are you going to let me go now?”


“WHAT?! But you promised…”

“I lied.”

“You bitch, how could you…”

She hit him in the face with the gun, hearing the satisfying crunch of a facial bone somewhere breaking. “Spare me your self-righteous bullshit, cocksucker. First of all, we both know that if I let you go, you’d immediately run to the cops and try to get me arrested and your job back. And second, not that I was ever going to do it, but if I had given you sex, I have a feeling that you would have betrayed me and not kept your end of the bargain.” The guilty look that appeared on Kirk’s face confirmed her suspicions.

The defeated male quivered. “What are you going to do to me?”

“What you were going to do to me.” With that, Lissette suddenly shoved the gun barrel up his ass. Kirk let out a soulless scream of terror.

“Scream as loud as you want,” she cooed. “There’s no one to hear you for miles.” She used her considerable strength to force the weapon further in, ripping and tearing his rectum, taking sadistic pleasure in his cries of agony. Past instances of sexual harassment and crude, lewd behavior from guys flashed through her mind. Now she was getting revenge for it all.

“Didn’t you say you wanted to use me to try a bunch of different sexual things?” she sneered at her victim. “Did you want to fuck me up the ass? Well, now YOU know how it feels to get fucked up the ass. After screwing so many people over at work, it’s fitting that you’re now learning what it feels like to get screwed.” She thrust the pistol in and out as she spoke, simulating an ass fucking.

“Oh my God, baby,” she taunted. “I just can’t hold it back any longer! I’m going to shoot!” Kirk’s eyes went wide with terror as he prepared to meet his maker.

Lissette pulled the trigger ten times in rapid succession. The large-caliber bullets did devastating damage, ripping through his internal organs, destroying everything in their path. Her strong wrist easily handled the recoil as she fired the weapon one-handed. When the gun finally clicked empty, she withdrew it with a squishing sound and turned the body over. All of the bullets had gone completely through him and he now had ten large, bloody holes in his torso. Three of the rounds had penetrated his heart. His dead eyes were still frozen in an expression of pure fear.

Lissette felt her heart rate slowly return to normal. She scanned her surroundings carefully, looking and listening for any sign of another person. Nothing. Sighing in relief, she looked at her gun, now covered in blood and shit. She quickly cleaned it with water and paper towels she had thoughtfully brought along. She would do a more thorough cleaning later, at home. She then swiftly and expertly reloaded the weapon, just in case she ran into any trouble. She looked down at Kirk’s corpse. “So was it good for you too, baby?” she couldn’t resist saying.

Getting back to business, she took out a bag and a short length of rope that she had also thoughtfully brought along. She placed the dirty paper towels in the bottom of the bag, then collected several rocks and loaded them into the bag as well. Finally, she tied it securely shut and used the rope to tie the bag to the body. Dragging it across the grass, she shoved Kirk over the edge of the bluff, watching as the weighted corpse swiftly sank into the lake.

She picked up the phone and quickly sent an email to Aurora supposedly from Kirk, stating that it was his screw-up that had led to the client canceling his order, he had lied and wrongly blamed Lissette for it, he was resigning effective immediately and wouldn’t show up to work again, and he wanted Lissette to have his old position as atonement for his sins. After sending the message, she tossed the phone into the lake.

Reholstering her pistol underneath her black miniskirt, she took one last look at the cold, dark, unforgiving waters of the lake, then climbed into her car and headed for home. Kirk had been such an asshole that he had no real friends. No one was likely to discover that he was missing for weeks, maybe even months, and even then they would have every reason to believe that he had just gone off to start a new life somewhere else after his mistakes at work. No one would suspect that he had been killed.

The next day at work, Aurora called Lissette into her office. “I got an email from Kirk,” the older woman informed her. “It seems you were telling the truth and he was lying. He’s the one who screwed up the order, and he confessed to falsely blaming you for it. He said he felt so guilty about it that he’s resigning.”

Lissette, an excellent actress, looked surprised. “Well, I’m glad he finally decided to come clean. I hope he’s more honest at his next job.”

“Yes,” said Aurora. “Anyway, there’s now, naturally, a vacancy in the manager position that Kirk occupied, and on his recommendation I’m promoting you to it, effective immediately. Congratulations, you’ve earned it. Your sales numbers have always been excellent and you’ve consistently shown strong leadership skills.”

Lissette’s heart was beating rapidly with triumph, but she kept her true feelings well hidden. “Thank you,” she said calmly.

“Kirk said that he didn’t want to come back here, he was so ashamed at what he’d done. Do you mind moving his stuff out of his office so you can move yours in?”

“Not at all.”

“Great. Well, congratulations once again and good luck in your new position. I know you’ll do well.”

As soon as she had exited her boss’s office, Lissette pumped her fist in victory. She had gotten away with a kill. Again. Another notch on her belt.

But if she could have seen the suspicious look on Aurora’s face as she stood alone in her office, Lissette wouldn’t have been quite so happy…


The Flagpole

Monica, a professor of history at the local university, sat in her office, pecking away laboriously at her computer as she worked on writing her next book. Across the small room was her graduate assistant, boyfriend, and now fiance, Todd. The shy graduate student had had a crush on Monica for a long time and had eagerly said yes when she had asked him to marry her. Todd was currently busy grading the papers written by the students in Monica’s undergraduate Spanish history class. The two of them periodically looked up from their work to smile at each other.

Monica’s cell phone rang suddenly. As she answered it and listened to the voice on the other end, a frown appeared on her elegant face. Todd looked up with concern. “My mother was just in a car accident,” she said as she hung up the phone.

“Is she okay?” Todd asked.

“She’s fine. But I’m still going to need to get out there.” Monica glanced out the window at the darkening sky. It was late Friday evening and the sun was setting. “Do you want to walk out with me? You can leave those papers for Monday.”

“Thanks, but I think I’d better finish these,” Todd answered. “Midterms are coming soon and there’ll be a whole lot more to grade. I don’t want to let the stuff pile up.”

“Good point,” said Monica as she stood up and grabbed her purse. “I’ll leave the office key on my desk so you can lock up. When you’re done, come over to my place. I should be done taking care of my mom by then. I’ll have everything in the bedroom warm and waiting for you.” She winked.

Todd got an immediate erection. “Thanks, Prof- I mean Monica. I’ll see you soon.”

The two scruffy-looking young men furtively approached the Social Sciences building of the university. One of them took out a wire and went to work on the lock on the main door. “The way I figure it, Rusty,” he said as he picked the lock, “is that a lot of students are worried about the upcoming midterms, and they want some reassurance. And we can provide it to them. We break in, steal the answers to all the midterms, and sell them for twenty bucks a pop. The students pass their tests and we rake in the green.”

“Good thinkin’, Jimmy,” said Rusty. Rusty and Jimmy were a pair of twentysomething punk kids who had formerly attended the university but dropped out due to laziness. Now they shared an apartment in the college town, and spent most of their time playing video games and smoking weed. They also liked coming back to loaf around the campus and look at attractive girls. They worked occasional odd jobs, some legit, some criminal, for money, but they always seemed to be short of it. This operation would get them out of the red for a long time.

The door clicked open. With smirks on their ugly faces, Jimmy and Rusty walked into the building. “We’ll start on the top floor and work our way down,” said Jimmy.

With a ding, the elevator doors opened onto the top floor of the Social Sciences building. The two young thugs got out and started down the hall…then stopped short when they saw a light coming from one of the offices. “What the fuck?” said Rusty. “You said there’d be no one here this late on a Friday evening.”

Jimmy paused. “I don’t hear any voices. Must be someone working late alone. We can take care of him.” They walked quickly but quietly down the hall until they came to the office with the light. Jimmy peeked in and grinned when he saw only the small, scrawny, and oblivious Todd seated inside, still busy grading papers. Jimmy gave a thumbs-up to Rusty and both men stepped into the office. “Good evening, buddy,” said Jimmy.

Todd whirled around in surprise. “Who are you?”

“That don’t matter,” said Rusty. “What matters is we have a job to do, and you’re in our way.” He strode over to a visibly frightened Todd. Rusty was far bigger than he was, and even Jimmy, though not as large as his comrade, had a decent height and weight advantage over the small grad student.

Rusty suddenly punched Todd in the stomach, causing him to double over in pain. Struggling to stand back upright, he swung his fist back at his opponent, but Rusty dodged it easily and laughed, then punched Todd in the jaw, stunning him. “Tie him up,” Jimmy directed.

“With what?” asked Rusty, looking around the small office for something suitable.

“Use his shirt,” said Jimmy. Rusty ripped the shirt off of a still stunned Todd, then used it to tie his hands behind his back.

“Where should we put him?” Rusty asked.

A sudden smirk appeared on Jimmy’s face. “I’ve got just the thing.” He whispered something into his friend’s ear.

Rusty grinned evilly as he heard Jimmy’s plan. “Guess what, you nerdy little wimp,” the big thug announced to Todd. “We’re going to attach you to the flagpole with your pants. Then we’re going to hoist you up so you’ll be dangling there in your underwear.” Both goons laughed loudly.

Rusty grabbed Todd roughly, while Jimmy began yanking his pants off. Todd struggled and cursed until Rusty shut him up with another punch to his face. Once Jimmy had Todd’s pants off, Rusty began frog-marching him out into the hall and down the stairs. Jimmy followed, still carrying Todd’s pants. They had gone outside and reached the front lawn where the flagpoles were when suddenly a female voice called out, “What the hell is going on here?”

Monica stood there, looking beautiful but dangerous. The sexy female professor was in her mid-thirties, but easily passed for younger. She stood at 5’6″ and 140 pounds, with shoulder-length brown hair, dark brown eyes, and a deep golden-brown tan. Her low-cut pants showed off her athlete’s hips and slim waist, and the sleeves of her white blouse were rolled up, displaying her thick, muscular forearms. Her wrist measurement was over seven inches, and the slightest movement was enough to make her superbly well-developed forearm muscles ripple.

“None of your business, bitch,” growled Rusty.

“Yeah,” added Jimmy. “Now get out of here if you know what’s good for you.”

Monica stood her ground. “If *you* know what’s good for *you*, you’ll release that…Oh my God, Todd!” she shouted as she recognized her man. “That’s my fiance you’ve got there,” she snarled. “Now I’m really going to put a hurting on you assholes.” She raised her fists.

Rusty laughed. “A little girl like you?” At 6’2″ and 215 pounds, he towered over Monica. He dropped Todd on the grass and kicked him in the head to knock him out. At that, Monica let out a growl of fury. With a high-pitched warrior cry, she launched her muscular body into a tumbling pass towards him, starting with a roundoff and then going into a series of extremely fast back handsprings. As she perfectly executed backflip after backflip right at him, Rusty froze like a deer in the headlights. Monica plowed into him, her booted feet kicking him in the face and knocking him down.

Jimmy picked up a fallen tree branch and began sneaking up on Monica from behind. Although at 5’9″ and 170 pounds he was larger than her, he could see that her massive forearms were bigger than his. But with the branch, he could…

“Oof!” Jimmy grunted in pain as Monica suddenly fired a perfectly aimed donkey kick into his stomach. As he doubled over, she turned to face him with her leg raised, kicking him in the head as she spun. A wicked one-two combination of punches from Monica’s leather-gloved fists broke his nose and blackened his right eye. Laughing at her ability to dominate men physically, she headbutted him, knocking him to the ground. As he fell, he dropped his branch, which began rolling away.

Monica performed a front tuck somersault to take herself over to Rusty, who was just getting to his hands and knees. She kicked him in the side, breaking one of his ribs. Cursing with pain and anger, he finished standing up and tried to punch her, but she blocked the attack easily with her thick forearm, then punched him in the face, her leather-gloved fist creating a cruel, bloody cut on his cheek. A spinning back fist nailed his other cheek. Balancing on one leg, she kicked her victim in the face several times with lightning speed with her other, sending blood spraying with each impact. A cartwheel kick from her booted feet nailed his head and knocked him down.

Monica heard Jimmy getting up and approaching her from behind. She calmly waited until he was at just the right distance, then did a perfect standing back handspring, viciously crashing right into him and sending him to the grass again. As he was down, she stomped on his face with her big black boot. She followed that up with a savage kick to his stomach. Leaping on top of her helpless victim, she punched him in the face several times with her big fists, knocking him out.

Rusty was just getting up again. Monica used a kip-up to get back to her feet. She smirked at him and beckoned with her finger, taunting him to attack. He obliged with a growl, charging at her. Monica elegantly pivoted and stopped his charge with a side kick to his chest, laughing as he ran into her outstretched leg. Before he could move, she broke another of his ribs with a roundhouse kick. She then punched him twice in the stomach and once in the jaw, sending new waves of agony through his midsection and knocking two of his teeth loose.

“This is for my fiance,” she said quietly but coldly. With that, she drove her knee into her opponent’s crotch. Rusty let out a high-pitched scream. As his hands flew to his pulverized testicles, she cheerleader kicked him in the face, knocking two more of his teeth out.

“And this one’s for me.” Monica performed a perfect spin kick on her victim. Her booted foot impacted the side of his head and sent him to the ground, unconscious.

Monica grinned wickedly as she looked down at her brutal and bloody handiwork. She ripped off the shirts of both men and used them to tie their hands behind their backs. She then untied poor Todd, who was just waking up. “Are you okay, honey?” she asked.

Todd sat up with a groan. “M…Monica. You’re here.” He felt his head. “I think I’ll be okay.” Looking around, he saw Rusty and Jimmy out cold and tied up. He looked back at his fiancee. “Wow. I wish I had been awake to see you beat the crap out of those assholes. You’re such an amazing fighter.”

Monica blushed slightly. “Thank you, sweetie. Come on. I’ll help you stand up.” Todd got back to his feet, leaning on Monica. He put his shirt back on, then retrieved his pants, which were a few feet away from the unconscious Jimmy, and put them on too. “So what happened?” she asked.

He told her the whole story. “I guess they busted in to steal something. They said they had a ‘job’ to do. Then they…they …” Todd’s voice began to shake.

“It’s okay, hun. I’m here for you.” Monica squeezed his hand.

“They ripped off my shirt and pants and tied me up. Then they …they said they were going to hoist me up the flagpole in my underwear!”

Monica’s dark brown eyes flashed with rage. “Those fuckers.”

Jimmy groaned and opened his eyes. Monica, noticing, approached him with a determined look on her high-cheekboned face. “Todd told me about your cowardly attack on him,” she growled. “Now you’re going to tell me why you broke in.”

“Like hell I am, bitch,” he sneered.

Monica rammed her knee into his face. Blood sprayed out, staining her pants. “I’m going to keep kneeing you until you tell me what I want to know or lose the ability to talk…permanently. Your call.”

He simply glared at her. Monica kneed him again, the blow landing dead center on his nose. More blood sprayed out. She began raising her knee a third time.

“No! Enough! I surrender!” Jimmy cried out. He confessed his plan for stealing the midterm answers and selling them to the students.

Monica looked at him with disgust. She had a very low tolerance for anything that disrupted academic integrity. “You and your buddy are going to deserve everything that you’re about to get,” she snarled.

“Should I call the cops?” Todd asked.

“Not yet,” said Monica, a cold and determined look on her face. Jimmy trembled in fear.

Rusty chose that moment to wake up. He tried playing the tough guy for about five seconds, but a punch to his face from Monica’s big, leather-gloved fist shut him up. “Todd told me what you assholes were planning to do to him. Well, now we’re going to do the exact same thing to you.” With that, Monica quickly ripped off Jimmy’s pants, then did the same with Rusty’s. Both men began begging and crying like the cowards they were. A snap-kick to Jimmy’s head and a stomp on Rusty’s face shut them up.

Monica then dragged Rusty over to the big flagpole that normally held the American flag. Attaching him to it with his pants, she hoisted him all the way up. When Rusty was at the very top, dangling there in his underwear, she moved over to Jimmy. Picking him up in a firewoman’s carry, she attached him to the smaller flagpole that held the state flag and hoisted him up too. Both men dangled in their underwear, crying and humiliated for all the world to laugh at.

“Now you can call the cops,” Monica said to Todd.