I trembled as the sound of footsteps, soft, padding footsteps, came to my ears. Were they coming back, the ones who had left me tied to this tree? Or was some new anomaly coming to take its toll upon me? Surely anything that lived in this strange forest, with its massive trees and luminescent foliage, could prove a viable threat at any given time. Even more so now that I was tied to a tree with no knowledge of where I was or how I’d arrived there. I looked hopelessly at my survival knife, which lay across from me in this tiny clearing. It may have well been still in its package back at Sports and Outdoors for all the good it did me. My pack had been torn open and raided by the little devils that left me here, and my clothes were long gone.

Always, I’ve fancied myself quite the outdoors-man. At 5 feet 8 inches, and a fairly muscular build, I’ve rarely had trouble negotiating the roughness of nature nor any of its living perils. This strange situation in which I now found myself had started as an average expedition for me: a hike into the woods carrying my canoe to a spot where I’d deemed it safest to push off from shore and follow the river up a ways for a little rowing practice, before making camp for the night. What had happened instead was what could only be described as a complete screw-up. The hike went just fine, never any trouble there, but the canoe…

Carrying the canoe was not a big deal. I’d taken a good long time to get used to lifting it properly when I was first experiencing outdoor activity of this sort, positioning it across my shoulders and holding tight to the gunwales. Minding my footing was essentially when walking with the canoe across my shoulders, but I’d grown quite used to the sensation, and when distributed properly, the weight was entirely manageable. After finding the spot I’d designated for launching my craft, I clambered in and set to rowing up river, pulling away from shore to avoid upthrust rocks. The body of water was wide, and after a long while of rowing against the wind and sharp waves tearing the smooth surface of the river, I found that it was even wider than I’d thought. I couldn’t see land on either side of me, as though I were in the midst of some freshwater ocean. After a veritable ordeal of paddling toward where I hoped the far shore to be, just to gain my bearings, a dense fog began to roll in, carried by a strong wind that stirred up the river. The already wave-torn, formerly glassy surface of the lake became a roiling tempest of angry waves, tossing me about with such force that even my well-trained grasp couldn’t maintain a hold on the oar. Curses flew from my mouth, whipped away by the wind as the oar disappeared beneath the now-eerily dark water.

Desperately, I clung tight to the sides of the canoe, fearing for my life, all pretext of a fun outing into nature forgotten in favor of pure survival. Instinct took over, my primal forces surged to the surface and I clutched with all my might to my boat, my lifeline in this maelstrom. But my resolve wore out quickly, having never been tested in such a way, and a strong wave came crashing toward me, a wave against which I could not hold. The icy water shocked me to the core, my hands lost their purchase upon the canoe’s sides, my body whipped back, my head smashed against the stern of the boat.

The warmth of the sun eventually woke me, as did the crowing of a rather irksome bird, whom I sleepily cursed as I opened my eyes. The expanse of land around me was white sand, more pristine than any of those beaches they showed on television as prime tourist spots which no one could ever afford. Far behind me was a tree-line, half-obscured by distance and sand dunes. Immediately beside me was my survival pack, miraculously still in tact, and my canoe, unsurprisingly shattered beyond repair. Checking to ensure that my knife was still at my hip, I shouldered my pack and loped over the dunes in search of rescue, a journey which would inevitably lead me through the tree-line, and into the woods.

The first sign that I was not near my original destination at all, nor even in the same region, was the size of the trees. Twice the height of your average tree, and twice as big around, at least! And though it didn’t show up well by day, I could tell that some of the foliage was glowing. Glowing. Just giving off a gentle, warm glow, which intensified as the sun started to slide from the height of the sky. The day was wearing into night, and the strange animal sounds filling the air did NOT make me want to spend a night out here. It was then that I heard the high, female laughter, coming from directly ahead of me.

Parting the bushes quietly, I stifled a gasp at the sight I saw, partially because it was unbelievable and partially because it was unbelievably hot! Nymphs! They had to be nymphs, what else could I call them? Standing about three feet high, some shorter, all of them completely, gloriously naked, their firm bodies pale in the fading light, their firm breasts bouncing as they danced about together. Laughing and prancing, they bounced about the little clearing on their bare feet, leaping higher than any human, spinning about in the air, embracing each other, frolicking with wild abandon. I couldn’t stand seeing them and not being nearer to them. Something about them, their beautiful visages, their intoxicating scent, beckoned me like a hand upon my back, pushing me forward.

Not four steps into the clearing and the nymphs were upon me, squealing happily. Covering me with their bodies, giggling ecstatically and smothering me in delirious kisses as they spun me about in dizzying circles, tearing at my clothes and clinging to my body. So much was happening so fast that I could not stop them, not that I would have. I was not operating under my own control, but carried by the momentum of the nymph dancers as they spun with me in maddening circles, their naked bodies pressed against me, their tiny hands holding me as my clothes were whisked away effortlessly.

Only when they moved me back against a tall tree did I begin to protest. My bare back, sore from the beating I’d taken from the storm upon the water, did not receive well the feeling of the rough tree bark being pressed against it. I tried to push the nymphs off of me, but their tiny forms concealed impressive strength. Alone, I could have bested one or two of them, but many of them against a tired, dizzy, aroused me, was quite a different story. Their tiny hands pinned me against the tree as two of the devilish little creatures emerged from some nearby shrubbery clutching a long, thick rope.

Screams filled my throat, but were drowned by their hysterical giggling. The rope was looped about me again and again, starting at my ankles and working its way up, passing around behind the tree at the same time. Now as the nymphs spun and danced about me, they spun the rope about me ever more and more until my body was covered in its unyielding coils. Knotting the rope behind the tree, the nymphs all gathered in front of me to gaze up at their handy work, still chuckling and squeaking with the utmost glee.

“You little bitches,” I snarled, “let me go or I will kill each and everyone of you.”

“Not if you’re tied up, silly man.” one of them mocked, sticking out her tongue at me in a truly juvenile taunt.

Again curses left my lips, I heaped countless insults upon the mischievous little demons, who merely continued to taunt me, jeering, mocking me, poking me with sticks, pinching me, or slapping at my face. Fury rocketed through me when the nymphs began to rifle through my pack, taking out the food and supplies and spiriting them away, leaving the watertight backpack as empty as if the storm had ravaged it.

“You can’t leave me like this, I’ll die!” I cried out.

“You won’t die,” one of the nymphs explained, her arms about my neck so as to stay at my eye level, “you won’t be up here for long, just for the night. Then they’ll come for you.”


“The Big Ones.” she replied. “The fighters. They protect us, they’ll like you.”

“Who are they, other humans?” I demanded.

“No, silly,” she squealed, kissing my mouth playfully, “they’re bigger than you, stronger too. Oh they’re going to have lots of fun with you.”

I didn’t like the way this “fun” sounded. But my demands for freedom were ignored. The nymph hanging onto my neck leaned up to me, placing a wet kiss upon my lips, her little tongue forcing its way into my mouth. She pulled away, batting her eyelashes sexily. Releasing me, she dropped to the ground, prancing away and letting another nymph take her place. One after another they leapt up, wrapping their arms about my neck, and gave me a final kiss, some more forceful than others. When they were all finished, they formed a cheery, smiling procession, prancing away, their breasts bouncing as they walked, shouting final taunts and blowing me kisses as they disappeared into the forest, leaving me alone.

Though the sky went dark, the glow of the foliage kept the forest bathed in radiance. Mushrooms pulsed with a warm radiance, leaves and trees sported shimmering spots, even the grass carried with it a haze of illumination. The sounds of the forest were still strange and threatening in my helpless state, even without the cover of darkness to add its element of fear. Strange growls, high shrieking bird-calls, slithering far too loud to come from any snake with which I was familiar, and the near-endless rustling of bushes as unnamed things moved. But nothing came near me, as though I were protected by some invisible fence, keeping me, for the moment, safe. Thus the night passed and I was left unscathed, even falling asleep against the tree, until the sound of footsteps roused me…

The shadow that fell across the clearing aroused my fear more than the footsteps. It was tall and shapely, clearly a woman’s shadow. In its hands it bore a large-headed weapon of some sort. A hammer, or an axe perhaps. But when I saw the woman that entered the clearing, and her two companions, my fear and awe redoubled, so much so that I could not even scream. I only stared as they walked on sandaled feet, weapons held high, until the three of them stood before me, gazing down upon me. These had to be none other than the “Big Ones” of which that little nymph had spoken.

The girl in the middle, clearly the leader, stood easily at nine feet tall, such that I had to crane my neck back to gaze into her fair face. Eyes blue as untainted water, blonde hair spilling down her broad shoulders, and a chest that, given her immense size, could have been any man’s fantasy. Even as she breathed, her breasts heaved sensually, drawing my eye to them even as I explored every curve of her body with my eyes. Her hips were curvy and alluring, her legs shapely with muscles defined clearly under her sun-tanned flesh. If she had any body fat at all, I could not see it, only corded muscles in her legs, arms, and abdominal region that told of a strength like steel as they rippled with her every movement.

She, like her two companions, wore sandals upon her beautiful feet. The sandals strapped onto their legs, making them perfect for quick, agile movement or standing one’s ground in combat. Other than that, they wore what amounted to bikini-tops made of what I could only presume was some sort of leather or other alluring-yet-protective material. These top garments covered only their tremendous bosoms, with a loin-cloth tied at their waists serving as their only other article of clothing. Each of the gargantuan women hefted a weapon: a hammer for the leader, and axes for the girls who flanked her, each of whom stood two feet shorter than their hammer-wielding comrade, which still had them towering over me at seven feet.

“Don’t, don’t hurt me.” I croaked, my throat dry from thirst. “Let me go.”

“We will not hurt you,” the hammer-wielder said, “you would not make a suitable gift to our queen were you injured.”

“A gift?” I demanded. “I’m not a gift, I’m a man.”


“Just cut me down and I’ll be on my way.”

She motioned to the axe-wielders, who stepped forward. Inadvertently, I cringed, which brought loud bouts of laughter from all of them, but I was not in danger, at least for now. Pulling the rope free with relative ease, they proceeded to bind me with it such that I could be carried away but not move an inch, my arms secured behind my back and my legs bound helplessly together. Bound as such I lay face-up on the ground at their feet in the dirt, seething with indignation but afraid to curse these hulking beauties as I had the devious nymphs.

Slinging her hammer on a leather strap across her back, the leader leaned down and lifted me in her chiseled arms. I wriggled uncomfortably as she tested my weight, bouncing me gently and pressing my body against her ample bosom, which I found to be quite firm. This woman could crush me with her breasts alone if she had a mind to do so. Without a discernable thought, she tossed me over her shoulder and began walking, flanked by her fellow huntresses. I could hardly squirm, for fear of falling to the ground and wounding myself, especially when my captresses started to run through the forest, apparently eager to get home and show off their find. Their feet spurned the ground as they bounded across the forest, letting out long war-cries of victory, until at last we arrived at their city.

Because of the way I was thrown over her shoulder, I had to observe everything once the leader of this little party passed it, which left me seeing mostly the backs of everything, which was still impressive. A circular wall of stone, entwined by vines and bordered by trees surrounded the city. The massive iron gate was set between two still-living trees, and guarded by seven foot tall women in the same leather-like bikini tops and loin-cloths. Each of them held a wicked spear, and cast an equally wicked glance at me as I was carried past. The roads were not paved, but had been trodden down by foot-traffic such that they were well defined.

I beheld small cottages, pastures for livestock, merchant stalls, taverns, and long-houses for the higher class, or so I assumed. The one thing I did not see, was another man. Every woman I saw stood, at the very least, far taller than I, with the tallest being about nine feet of pure muscular beauty. From what I could tell of the houses and flashes of daily life that I could see, the younger women were naturally shorter but would grow into their proper height. Hierarchy was very much discernable by height: those who maxed out taller had a higher rank, those who were “shorter,” still no less than 7 feet, were still well-off, but less so than their looming counterparts.

The long-house into which we were led was vast and high-roofed, flanked on all sides by guards, and draped with banners that suggested great royalty. The queen, or so I would guess, dwelled herein. Without warning I was deposited without much ceremony on the ground, face-up so I might see what was unfolding around me. The three woman hunting party approached the middle of the room, their leader stepping forward and addressing the queen.

“Tamora,” she said in a clear voice, “queen of our noble people, we have found for you the rarest and most sought-after of all gifts: a man.”

It was then that an ornate curtain was drawn aside, and my heart nearly stopped. Taller, slightly, than the leader of the hunting party, the queen, Tamora, perched comfortably on her throne. Wearing the same bikini-styled garb and loin-cloth as so many here wore, as well as the sandals upon her flawless feet, her body was fully presented in its curving, statuesque glory. When she stood, the muscles in her legs moved so clearly I could trace each and every one. Her abdominal muscles were defined as clearly as writing on paper, and her arms were the ultimate combination of absolute beauty and unparalleled power. Even when not actively making use of her arms, the musculature was toned and clear as day. Her chest, dwarfing that of the hunting party leader, was barely contained by the top half of her garment. Long black hair cascaded past her powerful shoulders and down her back, blowing slightly in the gentle breeze that filtered into the long-house. Even when she walked, her curving hips swayed with such sensual grace, that I found my body straining at the ropes just to get nearer.

“Where came you by this man of whom you speak?” demanded Tamora in a gentle yet commanding voice.

“In the forest,” explained my captress, “he fell prey to the dance of the nymphs and they captured him for us.”

“A good deed that shall not go unrewarded,” Tamora replied, “let them know they can pick one of our younger girls to take for their fun.”

“Yes, Queen Tamora.”

“Now present to me my gift.”

The way she said “my gift” made a shudder run through me. Pretty as she was, my mind was not as crazy about being in her grasp as my body seemed to be. Hurrying to me, my primary captress hoisted me up and marched forward with me, laying me on the ground again at Tamora’s sandaled feet. The queen leaned down and lifted me up into her arms, appraising me with her eyes and exploring me with her hands in a less than gentle manner.

“He is very good,” she said, “and you women shall have your reward. Collar him, and then I shall take him. As your reward, when he is shared amongst the tribe, you three shall go first.”

“Just what the Hel do you mean by shared?” I asked, meeting the queen’s gaze as she held me up.

“Need I paint you a picture?” she scoffed. “You’re the ONLY man in this realm. Every woman here will have a turn upon you, and if you survive, you will stay as my bed-slave.”

My further protests were ignored completely by Queen Tamora and the members of the hunting party, the leader of which approached me with an iron band clutched in her hand. I tried to pull away, with little to no effect, and soon found the thin iron band fastened securely around my neck and locked into place. A slave collar. My hands flew to the collar and tugged desperately, terror filling me when I found it was far sturdier than it appeared to be. Tamora smiled approvingly and affixed to the collar a long strip of soft-yet-durable animal hide… A leash. With that in hand, she strode briskly from the room, and I was obliged to follow, lest I be dragged along by collar and leash.

The chamber into which I was forcefully led was decorated with furs and tapestries depicting beings who I could only assume were warrior women and goddesses to this strange culture. In the center of the room was a massive bed, onto which Tamora thrust my body, before casting off her garments and climbing into bed beside me. The sheets and mattress were soft and inviting against my tired body, and I would have fallen asleep had Tamora not pulled me close, draping one of her muscular legs across me and smiling deviously.

“Wait,” I said, panic rising in my voice, “look you can’t do this. Back where I come from I uh… I never had sex with a woman before. I spent so much time outdoors that I never really got into the whole relationship thing, I’ve never had sex.”

“Oh really,” Tamora purred, “then this shall be your first time.”

“You don’t understand,” I pleaded, now sounding pathetic and desperate, “I don’t WANT this to be my first time. Not here, not with you, alright?”

“That’s unfortunate.”

But unfortunate as it may have been, it was not enough to dissuade Tamora’s amorous intentions. Straddling my hips, she loomed over me, her tremendous thighs holding me captive beneath her as she lowered herself onto my firm manhood, which stood erect despite my terror. A low moan escaped me as her hot inner walls engulfed my shaft, taking all of me in as she settled onto my hips and began to ride me eagerly, grinding down against me with unparalleled force.

July 2018
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