As night fell, so did the rain. As thunder boomed across the black sky, so did the merciless pounding of war drums. Akiyama marched, hands tied behind his back and a blindfold wrapped around his eyes, toward the Forbidden Palace.
The Forbidden Palace rests in the heart of the Amazonian Empire. Akiyama is going to see Queen Hippolyta, the despotic tyrant who rules over the Amazons. The reality of being so far into enemy territory, where many of his friends and ancestors have perished, is enough to make Akiyama sick to his stomach.
Throughout his entire life, Akiyama has ingrained into his psyche the belief that the Amazons are his tribe’s mortal enemy. A courageous young Samurai warrior representing the powerful Nakatomi clan, Akiyama was captured in battle just hours ago and immediately was ordered to pay Queen Hippolyta a visit.
Akiyama couldn’t see the rain, but he could feel it. Like an ocean falling from the sky, he could not be sure whether his village would be flooded by morning or if they would avoid the worst. He thought about his father, his mother and his four brothers. He thought about his clan. He thought about his own life. Would Queen Hippolyta brutally execute him as a demonstration of her cruelty? Would his capture deter General Ijiri from launching another sneak attack against the Amazonian occupiers?
General Ijiri, a very wise man, loves Akiyama like his own son. He cannot imagine what the powerful military leader is thinking right now, knowing Akiyama is being escorted to his inevitable death.
The two guards accompanying Akiyama take him up a long flight of stairs. Finally they reach indoors, as Akiyama feels the rain stop. He hears whispers coming from all directions. He hates the Amazons, but respects them. Their brute strength, strategic cunning and relentless spirit should be admired by anyone. He also fears them, especially their ruthless Queen.
He hears two large chamber doors open. One of the guards kicks him in the back, forcing him to fall forward. The doors close with a loud thud. He hears a voice; a low, gravelly voice that reverberates with unquestioned authority. One of her bodyguards comes toward him and rips off the blindfold. Akiyama blinks several times to adjust his eyes to the light’s dull yellow glow. Finally, he looks up, still on his knees, and regards the all-powerful Queen who has ordered for his presence.
Standing at an impressive 6’ 5”, Queen Hippolyta wears a regal velvet green backless dress that shows off her enormously strong muscles. Statuesque and carrying the confidence of ten thousand brave warriors, Queen Hippolyta’s golden bronze skin, long black hair, piercing green eyes and strikingly gorgeous face perfectly complement her large muscular frame. With biceps the size of coconuts, a chest as broad as a bear, legs as thick as tree trunks and abs that not even her protective breast plate could hide, Akiyama now understands why she could move mountains and men at will. Who in their right mind would possibly want to defy her?
“Prisoner, stand up and come towards me,” she commands. Her authoritative voice seemingly causes the ground to shake.
Akiyama struggles to stand, as he is still in a tremendous amount of pain from the evening’s battle. A large cut bleeds across his muscular chest. He may not have the muscle mass or remarkable strength of the Queen, but he can hold his own. Akiyama eventually comes to his feet and takes several paces toward the throne, which sits at the center of the palatial chamber.
“What is your name, prisoner?”
Akiyama looks around and notices at least two dozen muscular female bodyguards standing at attention around the chamber. Wearing metallic body armor and holding six-foot long spears, Akiyama knew his chances of escape were nonexistent. He decides he could not put up a fight and accepts his fate.
“My name is Akiyama, samurai warrior of the Nakatomi clan,” he proudly announces. Queen Hippolyta steps forward and circles him, inspecting Akiyama’s appearance. Several inches shorter than her, Akiyama’s athletic body and handsome appearance pleases the Queen immensely. She unexpectedly feels a tinge of attraction toward the young samurai. He may be a representative of her mortal enemy, but her undeniable lust for this young man supersedes whatever hatred she feels for his tribe.
“You are an impressive youth. I am not surprised that you have fought my armies many times and did not die,” Hippolyta observes. She extends her right index finger and feels Akiyama’s wound. He is taken aback by the remarkable strength she demonstrates with just that simple motion. Feelings of lust also immediately erupt within his soul. “What shall I do with you, prisoner?”
Akiyama remains silent. Queen Hippolyta faces him directly. Her eyes darken.
“Answer me, boy. In what manner should I treat you, my captured prize?”
The young warrior looks around the room. He notices disdainful smiles coming from her array of lethal bodyguards. His heart races faster than it ever has before.
“Do what you will. I will accept whatever punishment you lay on me. It will be an honor to die for my tribe. I am prepared to endure your worst.”
Her eyebrow rises slightly. She locks eyes with her prisoner, stares at him intently and bellows with laughter. The rest of the chamber remains eerily quiet.
“Very brave of you. I was expecting a different answer. Something more in the realm of begging for mercy or offering to become a spy for my army. But not this.”
“I am glad I can please you,” he says with scorn. Queen Hippolyta stops laughing and grabs his throat. Akiyama feels the air cutting off from him. He drops to one knee, looking up at his enemy with fear in his eyes.
“You do not speak unless I give you permission to speak, is that clear?” she commands. All Akiyama could muster is a weak nod of his head. Seemingly pleased with that reaction, she drops him to the ground and walks back toward her throne. Akiyama coughs and gasps for air. The Queen snaps her fingers and two bodyguards approach the wounded prisoner and grab him by both arms. They hoist him up to his feet and drag him toward their leader.
“You will discover that my temper can be volatile at times, fair youth. I try to be as gentle as I can, but I cannot let weakness enter into my mind. The moment I relent on my brutality is the moment my Empire will begin to crumble. I will not let that happen,” she says. “You will soon learn why the Amazonian High Council chose to put me in charge. You will also learn why I had them all put to death so that my power could be omnipotent.”
Rumors of Queen Hippolyta murdering all eighteen members of the Amazonian High Council, which had ruled the Amazonian Empire for a thousand generations, circulated around the Kingdom. Nobody in the Nakatomi clan believed it fully, except for the Emperor, whose sister once sat on the Council. It was partially out of anger of his sister being killed that he ordered for the Samurai Army to rise up against the Amazons and form an insurgency.
The Queen motions to the bodyguards to take Akiyama away. They pick him up and elevate him off the floor.
“Take him away,” she orders. Akiyama and the two bodyguards start to move toward the front chamber doors.
“Stop! Not that way.”
The guards halt and turn around toward their Queen. Drops of sweat roll off Akiyama’s handsome face. He struggles to breathe.
“Take him to my bed chamber.” An audible collective gasp arises from the room. Obediently, the two guards change directions and head toward a back exit facing north. The Queen holds up her left hand to silence the room. As Akiyama and the two guards exit, he steals a quick glance her way and instantly makes eye contact with her. He sees in her eyes a wicked combination of anger, craftiness, deviousness and irrepressible lust. She smiles as the stone doors close behind him.
Walking down a narrow and vast corridor, Akiyama is taken deeper and deeper into the heart of the Forbidden Palace. They pass by an outdoor training area, which is still busy despite the persisting rain. Akiyama sees hundreds of Amazon warriors lifting heavy rocks, pushing large boulders, practicing combat with bamboo sticks, pulling ropes with stones attached to them and running laps around the square. He is stunned to see so many gorgeous muscular women of all shapes, sizes and ages diligently training to become elite warriors. He’s fought many of them before, so he knows how formidable these women can be in the heat of battle.
They turn direction and walk up a small grassy hill. Once they reach the top, Akiyama sees a small castle overlooking a lake. A beautiful garden surrounds the castle from all sides, featuring flowers he’d never seen before, as well as marble statues of ancient Amazon Queens from centuries past. All of them as muscular and intimidating as Hippolyta, he can see that she’s descended from a long line of legendary warriors. But none of them compare to Hippolyta’s impressive accomplishments, as right now nearly seventy percent of the Kingdom is under Amazonian control, which far exceeds the forty percent achieved by Hippolyta’s great–great–great grandmother many moons ago.
One of the guards takes out a key and unlocks the front door. They motion for Akiyama to go inside.
“Go in. We will close the door behind you,” one of the guards tells him.
Looking up at a majestic stone spire that reaches up to the Heavens, Akiyama is enjoying the icy rain drops falling on his face.
“Get in, prisoner,” the other guard orders. “Do as you’re told.”
Akiyama takes the hint and steps inside. The doors close behind him. The two guards take out broadswords from their belts and stand at attention by the door. Inside the castle, rich tapestries and polished furniture adorn the entryway. On the walls are paintings celebrating the victories of past wars. Akiyama feels disgusted when he sees a portrait of the Nakatomi Emperor’s head being held up by Hippolyta’s great grandmother. This story is taught to every young boy growing up in his clan. It is with a sense of righteous vengeance that Nakatomi Samurai warriors live every single day of their lives.
Moments pass. The rain continues its downpour. A flash of lightning sweeps across the skies. Akiyama finds a mirror hanging on the living room wall and inspects his wound. The cut has clotted, but the pain still persists. He sees his disheveled appearance and says a short prayer to himself, wishing the gods above will grant him good fortune in this time of peril.
Out of the corner of his eye, he notices a procession of female guards marching in a straight line toward the front entrance. A looming sense of dread suddenly fills Akiyama’s heart. He knows she’s coming for him. There’s absolutely no chance of escape. Whatever happens will happen. Akiyama will accept his fate no matter what transpires in these next moments.
The front door opens. It’s Queen Hippolyta, dressed in a scarlet red night robe and an elegant violet gemstone necklace hanging between her bountiful breasts. She closes the door. Her imposing frame struggles to fit through the small entrance. Akiyama can only stand still, completely frozen in time.
“So, boy. What is your name?”
The Queen approaches him. Even from a distance, Akiyama can feel the intense heat rising from her powerful body. Her scent. Her presence. Her authority. Her muscles. All of it petrifies Akiyama with both fear and awe. He does not know how this will end, but he knows she has different intentions than whatever she implied earlier in the throne room.
“I am pleased that my army brought you to me. I did not expect my captured prisoner would be so…pleasing to the eye. Congratulations, Akiyama,” she says, wiping a drop of rainwater from her immaculate face. Akiyama’s breathing becomes more serene. He does not presently sense the degree of danger that he had felt before.
“Am I allowed to speak?”
She gives him a curt laugh. The Queen walks toward a sturdy oak table and pours herself a glass of wine. She takes a sip and turns to face him, leaning her daunting body against the wall, right next to a painting of two Amazon warriors cutting off the penis of a captured enemy soldier.
“When we are alone in my castle, you are free to speak whenever you feel the urge to do so. When we are in front of my fighters, you must obey the proper protocol. From now on, you must address me as ‘my Queen.’ It’s how we must do things around here. Do you understand?” Akiyama nods his head. Queen Hippolyta appears to accept this response.
“Good. Then go with me to my bed chamber. Now.”
As she turns toward a staircase running along the center of the foyer, Akiyama boldly chooses to exercise his right to freely speak.
“What do you intend to do with me, my Queen?” She stops and finishes the rest of her wine. She sets the empty glass on a nearby bookshelf.
“I intend to enjoy your presence for as long as I wish. You will eventually meet your unavoidable demise, but before that happens, I must get what I want from your short time left on this Earth.” An ominous rumble of thunder rolls across the night sky. The castle, lit by candlelight, casts a spooky orange glow that makes Queen Hippolyta seem almost otherworldly in her appearance.
“I understand. You are the Queen, and I am your prisoner. Do with me what you will, my Queen.”
Queen Hippolyta, filled with untamed desire, sweeps toward her young prisoner and picks him up with her strong arms. Akiyama temporarily forgets his fear as he feels her bulging biceps press against his body. She kisses him on the lips and bites down on his tongue. He tastes blood as she removes her mouth from his. She feels no remorse whatsoever.
“I intend to, young boy.”
Holding him tightly, the Queen takes her prized possession with her and walks up the stairs toward her bed chamber.
3 thoughts on “Queen Hippolyta – Prized Possession (part one)”
I suddenly feel the need to sit in on, if not participate actively in, a writing workshop or class….. I come from a journalistic background, & my skills have gotten rusty with neglect.
I had been looking at some photos of the famous 50’s pin – up model & actress Bettie Page, who became an icon of the counter – culture from the 60’s to the ** present – day **, & thinking about a storyline, perhaps something along the lines of ” Somewhere in Time ” with a little less mysticism. If you’ve noticed, Ms. Page was somewhat muscular herself, she could’ve easily been a fitness model as well as a pin – up. But she would be a great subject for a story !
This 1st chapter seems very intriguing !
Believe it not, I also come from a journalistic background! I don’t actively work as a reporter anymore, but I do use my writing skills at work nevertheless. Thank you for being a faithful reader, Zathra.
My pleasure !
BTW : If you haven’t seen many images of Bettie Page, just simply Google her or go to Flickr, deviantArt or Bing image search, & you’ll see what I was banging on about. She was quite an athletic woman. Whether she kept to some regular fitness routine or maybe it was in her DNA, or both, she was not some skinny little Victoria’s Secret – type model, she was quite……healthy 🙂 Which inspired several story ideas involving her in my imagination.