The Amazon and the Scarifice

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The Amazon and the Sacrifice

When he took the beautiful young woman after destroying her village, bound her, threw her over a horse, and carried her away to be tortured daily and then sacrificed on the night of the full moon to an ancient and blood-thirsty god, the leader of the feared Red Horde didn’t count on that woman having a sister. And that sister was Willow, the strongest female warrior in a world ruled by men.

This was a time when the world was younger and ruled by those with the strongest sword arm. Women were considered little more than property, most living their lives as actual slaves, shackled and used as their master wished. Fighting her way across this barbaric land, Willow must invade the home village of the Red Horde to rescue her sister from terrible and extremely painful fate. But along the way she encounters slavers, evil temples haunted by the ghosts of long dead sacrificed maidens, and a warrior people determined to see both her sister and her meet with a horrible demise.

This novel was originally published in paperback under the title “Swords and Ropes.”

Published Dec 2019    60,000 words

Brak strode into the firelight to look down at the woman and studied her for a long minute, looking at her fine figure and that handsome face with those dark, deep eyes. Then he looked up and pronounced, “She has been chosen for Klaa. You all know the ritual. She will be tortured and made to feel pain before going to be with the god Klaa.” He turned a full circle, noting that the men were silent, attentive to his words.

“I will let you have her to sate your lust…” He paused dramatically, “Providing that you guarantee she will derive no pleasure from the act!”

There was silence as the men consider that. Each was sure that the rod he carried inside his pants was of such huge proportions, and wielded with such power and skill, as to grant any woman extreme pleasure, and therefore hesitated to promise he could prevent her from enjoying his attentions. Then an old fighter, his face scared from many battles and friendly arguments, stepped forward to take a stance before Brak. “I will swear to you and the god Klaa that this wench will not enjoy my attentions,” he declared. Then he paused for dramatic effect before announcing his plan: “She has more than one hole.”

There arose a cheer from the assembled men. Quickly eager hands came forward to grab the naked woman. Rope was produced and a pole brought forth. While the pole was being lashed between two small trees at the right height off the ground, her hands were bound behind her back. Then she was dragged over to the pole, bent over it and a rope tied around her neck. As several men tied ropes to her ankles and to the trees to hold her legs spread wide, a couple more pulled the rope to her neck down under the pole and back behind her, forcing her to bend very far over until her head was almost touching the ground and her long raven hair lay in a pile in the dirt. They tied off the rope so tautly that the noose cut into her throat and she gasped for air. Then the old fighter who’s idea this had been came forth to the good natured cheers of his comrades and opened his pants to allow his rod to spring forth. He spit on his fingers and lubricated her asshole with that — not much really. Then he took her hips in both hands and drove his rod into her rectum suddenly and violently. Cassandra screamed and her scream echoed among the rocks and trees for a long second until her body, trying to jerk itself upright, pulled on the noose and the rope tightened to cut off her cry. With choking and gagging noises, she forced herself to push her head down and between her legs. But she cried with the pain and indignity of this cruel act. The Red Horde cheered.

The ravishment of her virgin ass did not take long. But when the first man was finished, there was no rest for another stood in to take his place. It was a very long time before all those who wanted to had satisfied themselves upon her rear.

And all agreed that there was no sign of the intended sacrifice having gained any pleasure from their attentions — no pleasure at all.

The cage was tiny and made of wooden poles buried in the ground. But it was strong enough to hold one naked and bound female. The barbarians dumped her into it after having had their fun with her, not bothering to untie her hands from behind her, only to remove her from the pole she had been bound over to make her rear accessible. It was a long, cold night for the captive girl, and one made all the worse by the humiliation and pain from the rough ravishment of her rectum. It had been terrible for her to have to feel man after man taking his turn at shoving his rod inside her. And it had certainly been true that Klaa would be please at the pain she had felt along with the shame.

The next morning she was stiff and shivering. The cage was inside a hut but that did little to stop the high mountain air from turning cold in the late hours of the night. By the morning sunlight, Cassandra could see that their camp was up among the pine trees. She also heard the sounds of women and children and smelled cooking smoke. By that she knew she was at the home village of the Red Horde.

She had also heard enough to know of their plans for her when the full moon lifted over those snowy peaks in a few days. And of the torture that would be inflicted upon her so that Klaa might enjoy the pain and suffering. It did not make her feel very optimistic about the future.

It was Brak himself who came to see to her just as the first warming touch of sunlight penetrated the wooden bars of her cage. He looked her up and down with a hard glint in his eyes, not forgetting or forgiving the pain she had caused him, nor the scar he would carry the rest of his life. Not that warriors such as he worried about scars, but it was there for all to see, a testimonial to the fact that a mere woman had cut him. She could see in his eyes that he would take delight in personally making sure that the sacrifice to Klaa this year would feel much pain and scream a great deal to please the god. She turned her eyes away from his for she did not wish to see the hate in them.

A second figure came into the small hut and Cassandra looked up at the sound of a woman’s voice.

“So you let the men have her already!” came the gruff voice. Its owner was a tall woman, heavily built and wearing the furs and deerskin of the Ice Mountain tribes. “Can’t you bastards keep from sticking your prongs into every hole a girl has?”

The woman chided Brak and added a poke on the arm. He grinned and told Cassandra, “This is my woman. You may call her Hilda, though I expect you’ll have other names for her before too long. She will see to it that you are kept alive for the sacrifice.” He grinned from ear to ear in a most savage manner. “And she’ll make sure that you suffer every minute up until then.” He laughed a laugh that made Cassandra’s blood turn cold.

Brak was still laughing when he left the hut. For a moment or two the two women looked at each other. Hilda had seen maybe forty summers but was still healthy and stout. A streak of gray colored the side of her head but was not matched by another on the other side. As with the mountain peoples, her legs where they showed below the leather skirt were solid and more muscular than many men from the low lands. There was a hint of cruelty in her dark eyes and the set of her mouth. Cassandra knew instinctually that she should fear this woman, perhaps more than the man who had captured her.

Hilda untied the rawhide strips that bound the cage door shut and helped to lift Cassandra out. She looked over the naked woman and knew that she was both beautiful and very sexy despite the disheveled hair and dirt upon her body. “I see they screwed you in the ass,” she said casually. “Some of the men like to do that. You’re of a fair size, be glad that you’re not a small girl or a very young one. The men sometimes do a lot of damage to a small woman when they take turns shoving their rods up her ass. Sorta rips them apart, you know. And hurts like hell.”

“How would you know what it feels like?” snapped Cassandra.

“Ho! You still have some spirit. Good. Well, little spitfire, I’ll tell you. Sometimes, usually when he’s been drinking too much mead, Brak will take it in his mind to share me with the men. He ties my hands behind me like yours are, and then bends me over a rail in the middle of the village. I guess you were tied about the same last night. Well, when I’m lashed down right good and can’t move and my ass is sticking right up in the air like that, he bangs his sword against his shield and that tells everyone to come and get it.”

Cassandra looked puzzled. “You mean he lets all the other men… take you in the… ass? But you’re his wife!”

“Hell, girl, it’s all in good fun,” Hilda replied with a chuckle. “Truth is I yell and howler a lot but I really like it.” She chuckled. “And I’m big enough so that none of the men hurt me. Well, not too much. There was one who had a prong so big that he couldn’t hardly shove it up my ass! Like a horse’s prick he was. You should have seen him! I tell you, it was quite a thrill to be tied down and looking through my legs to see him marching across the ground, that huge thing stiff and hard and pointed right at my asshole, I tell you!”

“My bottom is very sore,” Cassandra said simply.

“Of course it is, spitfire. But you’ll soon enough forget that.” She chuckled again. “‘Cause you are going to be hurting too much in other places to worry about your ass.”