I could have published this 20K word story as a short book, but instead am sharing it with my followers in six posts. I will be posting a new chapter approximately each week. In Chapter Five, Spacer Bob’s Fantasy Tours visits a coming of age dominance combat on Atlantis Alpha One.
WARNING! All of my writing is intended for adults over the age of 18 ONLY. Stories may contain strong or even extreme sexual content. All people and events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions, situations, and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real life.
All characters involved in sexual activity in this story are over the age of 18. If you are under the age of 18 or do not understand the difference between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province, nation, or tribal territory that prohibits the reading of acts depicted in these stories, please stop reading immediately and move to somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century.
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Chapter Five - Atlantis Alpha One
As soon as the spinning and distortion stopped, Spacer Bob stood to address the crowd. “As you may be able to see,” he said, “we are not on the planet of the giants.” He paused to gesture out at a large octagonal ring that, except for its size and shape, resembled many of the fighting rings I have seen throughout the galaxy. The arena surrounding the ring was rather simple with a large area open to the sun and several rows of comfortable looking seats stretching up under wooden roofs that protected the crowd from the intense sun. There were only a few hundred spectators in the stands, all of whom were semi-concealed in the darkness created by the cantilevered roofs. Strangely, there was a large empty area above the seats which allowed Spacer Bob’s craft to adjust itself slightly and fit in exactly behind the seated crowd.
“We are instead,” Bob continued, “someplace even more interesting. We are on Atlantis Alpha One.”
I had to stifle an exclamation of surprise... or perhaps disbelief. Atlantis Alpha One is considered a myth by many in the Space Patrol. Supposedly somewhere in the distant past, a plague ravaged the planet. All males, and about one-half of the females, died. The females that were left soon discovered that they were pregnant– with daughters. Evidently the plague virus created parthenogenesis within the survivors and any female of child bearing age– even the virgins– had all somehow become pregnant and gave birth to daughters who looked exactly like them.
Shortly afterwards, they renamed their planet Atlantis Alpha One and withdrew from all contact with the rest of the galaxy. Star Patrol– then known as the Space Police– declared a full quarantine on the planet, primarily because of the deadly plague. After a few centuries, it was forgotten as an inhabited world and Atlantis Alpha One faded into mythology.
Throughout the years, there have been tales of strange ships with all female crews stopping at various ports to trade. But somehow such ships never showed on the security videos of those ports. The de***********ion of the women given by merchants who supposedly traded with them was always the same... dark skin, heart shaped faces, flowing robes, and slightly almond-shaped eyes.
“Holy shit!” I muttered aloud as I realized that described the woman sitting in front of me. She was an Amazon from Atlantis– or at least a descendent. I shook myself out of my thoughts and turned to speak with her, but she was gone. Laying across the bench where she had been sitting was the cloth which had composed the large billowing robe which she had worn. On top of that was a white undergarment of some sort and a pair of sandals.
Spacer Bob’s commentary brought my eyes back to the octagonal fighting ring. “The planet of Atlantis Alpha One is unique among the humanoid planets for several reasons.” he began. “First and most obvious, there are no males on Atlantis Alpha One.” He chuckled and said, “That is unusual, but not unique. There are several planets which have become enclaves for women who do not desire the company of men.” He chuckled again and said, “There are also some planets which are strictly for men... of one sort or another.” His voice became more firm as he held up his hand like an ancient orator making a philosophical point. “But only on Atlantis Alpha One will you find women who can give birth without the need of a man. ... And they have been doing so for thousands of years.”
He gestured once again at the octagonal fighting ring and boomed out, “The fighting ring you see before you is part of an Alpha One’s coming of age ritual. There are no bets placed on any of the women. In many ways there are no winners or losers. But this combat determines the hierarchy of a birth class for their entire lives. Tonight, thirty-two Amazon women will come of age and will join Alpha One adult society. Their birth class will be their family from this day forward. Together they will build a proper home, care for their young, and take care of each other if they become sick or are injured.”
A line of naked women walked out into the arena and stood in a tight circle around the ring. None them had numbers or any designations painted on their bodies, but as they gathered, Spacer Bob’s translation matrix projected letters above each of the eight posts in the octagonal ring. I looked closer at the ring and there were symbols of some sort painted in a bright silver color at the very top of the post.
I shifted my eyes to study the women. All were approximately the same height and build. All had heart-shaped faces and slightly almond-shaped eyes. All were very lithe and yet at the same time very muscular. I couldn’t be sure, but one of them looked a lot like the woman who had been sitting in front of me. I know, with her flowing robes I hadn’t seen any of her body and only glimpses of her face, but when she scowled at me, she had projected a strength... a presence... and one of the women standing around the eight-sided ring also seemed to emanate such a presence.
A woman in black flowing robes climbed into the ring and then pointed semi-randomly at eight women to come up and enter the ring. When there was one woman standing in each “corner” of the octagon the woman spoke. “Nothing fatal or permanent!” she said sharply. “If your opponent submits, it is over. If you pin your opponent– face up or face down– it is over. If you violate the rules, you lose your match.” She paused and then almost yelled, “Do you understand me!”
All eight fighters in the ring immediately yelled out, “Yes Ma’am! We understand!”
The woman slowly turned around while pointing at the two dozen naked women still standing outside the ring. Then she said even louder, “Do you understand me!!!”
There were a couple of squeaks of fright then the twenty-four women said in unison, “Yes Ma’am! We understand!”
“Then fight,” the woman said curtly as she moved to the center of the ring. She evidently took very short steps because it appeared almost as if she flowed rather than walked. Most of the women charged more or less into the center of the ring and quickly engaged one of the other fighters. There was some quiet murmuring from the crowd, but no one yelled or cheered or otherwise acknowledged the fighters.
One fighter did not charge into the center but stood docilely at her post. When one of the fighters looking for an opponent raced over to her, she immediately dropped to her knees and bowed her head. The murmuring got slightly louder, but still no one shouted out anything.
The woman in black pointed to the kneeling woman and then to a large circle painted on the floor on the opposite side of the arena from where I was sitting. She pointed to the default victor and then to a similar circle on our side of the ring.
Two of the other fights were over fairly fast. The opponent didn’t capitulate, but was instead easily overwhelmed. One was pinned with her back on the mat. The other was pinned face up with her opponent sitting on her chest.
The third fight didn’t end as quickly. The women were fairly evenly matched and both were sweating heavily as they grappled with each other trying to take the other woman down. After several minutes of grabbing each other and then backing away, one of the women yelled a loud word that the translation matrix did not translate and then ran full speed at her opponent.
In my training as a Space Patrol officer, we were told again and again and again and again, “If you lose your focus, you have already lost your fight.” This was absolutely true for this woman. Her hands were aimed at her opponent’s throat as she charged. But her rage had blinded her and the other woman grabbed her arms, dropped over on her back, and slammed her– hard– onto the mat. The opponent then scrambled up to sit on the loser’s chest.
At the end of the round there were four women standing in the winner’s circle and four standing in the loser’s circle.
Another eight women were called into the ring. As they climbed over the ropes, I noticed that on one of them, her tightly curled pubic hair was glistening. I looked quickly at where she had been standing and there was no puddle indicating that she had peed herself. That left only one conclusion. This fight was turning her on... a lot.
I continued to watch her as the eight women paired up to fight. She didn’t stand docilely in her corner, but she didn’t rush out to engage. Instead she walked steadily over toward the one other woman who had not charged into battle. They met in the center next to the woman in the flowing black robes. Her opponent pulled her tightly against her body and then turned her around so that she was facing out. Then she began to rub her pussy with one hand while mauling her tits with the other.
It only took a moment for the turned-on woman to begin panting and groaning. And only a few more minutes before she cried out loudly and slid to the canvas in the throes of an orgasm. The opponent remained standing and pressed a foot against her chest while she writhed and groaned.
The woman in black said loudly, “Unusual, but not forbidden.” She then pointed to the winner’s circle and then to the loser’s. When I looked around, the rest of the ring was empty. Evidently the winners other three fights had been rapidly determined.
I hate to say that watching naked women wrestle can become boring, but it was. The next round of fights was rather quickly settled with four more in the winner’s circle and four in the loser’s. I was almost ready to start writing my report in my autolog when the powerful woman entered the ring.
As with the previous rounds, the eight women rushed at each other to begin fighting. Three couples were grappling and attempting to pin each other. The powerful woman stood staring at her opponent. She hadn’t yet grabbed her, but instead stood with her arms folded in front of herself scowling. When she had scowled at me, I had sensed a hidden power. Now, there was nothing hidden. She was projecting a power that would have backed down a Gromper dog, and they were bred for protection of military bases. Her opponent reached out to grab her... three times... but each time it was as if a force field stopped her opponent’s hands. Then her opponent sighed deeply, dropped her arms to her side, and lowered herself to her knees.
I watched as the next two rounds reduced the number of people in the winner’s circle to eight. The powerful one had to actually fight this time, but she easily pinned her opponent face down. This time the losers were sent to a smaller circle just to the left of the big winner’s circle.
The next four losers were sent to a smaller circle on the right of the winner’s circle. Now there were only four fighters in the ring. They were all wet with sweat. All had a look of power, but the woman who had been seated in front of me still had the most powerful presence.
As soon as the woman in the black robes gave the signal to fight, three of the women banded together to attack the powerful one. It was a good plan, but good plans don’t always work. While two were holding her arms, she brought her legs up around the third and twisted her body violently. The woman between her legs was thrown hard to the mat. A foot placed on her chest qualified as a pin.
Then the powerful one brought her feet back down and twisted her body. Holding on to a very sweaty body, especially when you, yourself, are sweating heavily, is not an easy thing. One of the attackers was thrown off and the powerful one turned to the other one. She grabbed her by the crotch and the shoulders and lifted her high above her head. Then with a loud grunt, she threw the woman down. The woman gave a loud grunt and lay there stunned. It only took a light tap with the powerful one’s foot to claim a pin. That left only one opponent. They faced each other for a moment, then the opponent took a deep breath, brought her arms down alongside her body and lowered herself to her knees.
The woman in the black robes walked over to the powerful one and said loudly, “By your demonstration of your personal power, you are now declared head of your birth class household. From this day forward you shall be called Princess Aburji and shall be part of the Queen’s ruling council.”
For the first time, the crowd reacted. They all stood, applauded, and cried out in unison, “All hail Princess Aburji and long life to Queen Omarko.”
Everything began shimmering and spinning and Spacer Bob’s voice boomed out, “Time to go to Maximus Alpha Fourteen. I’ve got time, but you all have been sitting for a long time watching the show.”
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END OF CHAPTER FIVE
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The true rulers of this world, the credit card companies, have made it almost impossible to sell books with true BDSM themes. Erotic publishers will soon be a thing of the past. So I have pulled all of my books from the one publisher that I had left, and have decided to post new ones such as this with my on-line followers.