The Legend of Atlantis
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Timeless Atlantis Ch. 02 free porn video
His sweat and body odor mixed together into a foul smell that was repellant and made all the more so because I could not get away. He had pulled me up and had his back against a tree and his front guarded by my body. He pulled me around the tree, trying to see everywhere at once, wondering where the mysterious attacker would come at him next. I must have looked scared. I certainly felt it and the emotion was powerful enough that even now I get a cold shiver. We waited for what seemed an eternity until we heard a voice. The voice was coming closer and speaking to us. The voice was female and at first I found the language impossible to understand.
I had a facility for languages. It had helped no end at archaeological digs and in examining ancient manuscripts. Her language was a strange mixture of Latin, Ancient Greek and a smattering of words that I had only found in a few other Indo European dialects. I remembered enough at the time to get the gist of what she was saying and it did not bode well for my captor. ‘I am Princess Leanna, third daughter of the Matriarch of my clan. As a warrior of the Colayna Clan I should not soil my hands on scum like you but you have left me little choice.’ A figure stepped through some bushes and I saw a woman who would not have looked out of place in a Wagnerian opera.
Sometimes there are moments when we absorb so much detail that the memory is stuck with us forever. That was one of those moments. She wore sandals that were secured to her by dark brown cords that crisscrossed her calves. Her legs were perfectly formed, a delightful combination of suppleness and a hint of the muscle beneath. She wore no skirt and instead there were thick strips of leather, all embossed with the mark of her clan, and were all that hid her modesty. Roman soldiers wore a similar thing over their skirts but it seemed that this warrior preferred just the leather as it gave her greater movement in combat. Above that she wore a leather breastplate, again very similar to that the Romans wore. This one however had been cut away to allow her generous bosom room to breathe.
Her face was that of a woman about to enter her forties but that would have little to do with her true age on the island. It was a beautiful face though. I melted when I saw it. Looking back at when Richard rode to my rescue and all that followed that I only thought that I had fallen in love with him. I felt something in the pit of my stomach that day when I saw her face and it caught me off guard. That beautiful, yet strong face, glaring with hate and disdain in our direction stirred something deep within me. I blushed at the thought that I could find a woman attractive and tried to look away, yet I was drawn. Atop her brow, beneath her hairline was a gold band, signifying her royal blood, and was a fitting accessory to her dirty yellow hair that she wore in one long plat behind her head.
She advanced toward us. She had slung her bow and the quiver containing her deadly shafts. I then saw the gilt handle of her short sword at her waist. She unclipped it and the scabbard that enclosed it and tossed it aside. From the other side of her waist she drew out a dagger, not dissimilar in size to the one at my throat. ‘Since it is the only way I can free this child from you I will allow you to die with honour. Come, cast her aside as I have my sword and we shall do battle with our daggers.’ He did not understand, or perhaps did not want to accept a fight with her, but he hesitated nevertheless. You did not have to understand her words though to take her aggressive posturing and angry words to mean that she was not there for friendly purposes.
Then he pushed me aside and the pair of them moved toward each other. They moved in a circle, weapons in hand, eyeing each other, waiting for a moment the other could be hurt. They both swept their daggers near each other, their foe stepping back a pace to avoid a cut. The man took to lunging out, wanting a quick end to the fight, which is a dangerous mistake to make. Leanna sought her moment and in almost one movement, side stepped, pulled on his arm with her free hand and plunged her blade into his stomach. He began to double over and Leanna plunged the dagger in further. I winced at the obvious pain on his face but his death was unlikely to be a mercifully quick one. Leanna turned and walked away from him toward her sword. She carefully clipped it back on and then walked back. Standing over him she withdrew the blade from the scabbard and raised it above her head. ‘Unlike you we abhor suffering, so I will put you out of your misery like the dog you are.’
The blade must have been wickedly sharp for in one stroke his head tumbled from his shoulders. She wiped the blood on his shirt before putting it back into the scabbard. ‘I wonder how many of our clan, our brave warrior sisters, have you given such mercy.’ She spat on his decapitated head and a globule of saliva dripped off his nose as she beckoned me. ‘Come, follow me.’ The words were said slowly and deliberately whilst using her gold braceleted hands to gesture where she expected me to go. I almost smiled, as it seems that regardless of century, gender, race or locale the recognised method or communication to someone who does not understand your language is the same. Say the words slowly and loudly whilst over emphasizing with hand gestures.
I overcame my instinct to laugh. There was a seriousness about her that did not seem to come from killing, but it certainly made her a better killer. She was not someone to trifle with so I followed her. Her clothing was far more revealing than mine and I wondered what polite society would have made of me had I worn similar garb. I doubt I could have worn it as well as Leanna though. I have always been slim but never any hint of muscle and my bosom could do with being larger for my height. She on the other hand was every bit the woman I was not. The leather ‘skirt’ (for want of a better word) swayed back and forth almost hypnotically as I followed. I saw her behind and her buttocks formed a perfect peach as they moved back and forth. I already felt strange in her company, looking at her accentuated body, but looking at her exposed flesh did something else far more basic deep within me.
I was horrified that I was looking at her in that way and tried to keep my attention on something else. I nervously coughed and cleared my throat before asking her, in a rather high pitched way, ‘Where are we going?’ Everything she seemed to do was immediate and I was taken aback at the speed she stopped, spun around and looked me in the eye with suspicion. ‘How do you know our language? Were you with another clan?’ I answered truthfully but simplified it. I didn’t feel it was wise to say that her civilization had disappeared so completely that no one believed it existed anymore. I explained that I was an archaeologist and had studied her language. It did take some getting used to.
I was almost fluent in Greek and Latin but the filling in here and there with the mixture of different languages that made up Atlantian was a case of noticing what she said. My inability to sound quite right convinced her and we carried on. Seeing her looking at me suspiciously and asking me about my past so angrily brought me back to earth with a bump, but it was a surreal experience nonetheless. It was said by one poet, whose name escapes me, that even before you are mauled to death you can admire the beauty of the tiger that is about to do it. I think I came as close as I was ever going to in understanding that notion.
She hadn’t answered my question but I thought it a wiser course of action to give up the idea of asking again. Regardless of the answer I might have gotten I would eventually find out for myself. What I did find out soon enough was spectacular. The castle had seen better days but many parts of it were still intact and would have rivaled anything in England for the splendor of the design. Parts of it though had been shored up by woodwork and the s
urrounding walls were now a stockade with firing steps here and there. As we approached the gates two female guards shouted down a challenge, ‘Who goes there?’ Leanna stopped and looked up at them with her hands on her hips and a look of bored indignation. The two women were similarly dressed to Leanna and were grinning ear to ear. ‘You KNOW who I am because you can see me. Now open the gate before I tell the Matriarch’s cook that Roast silky and fillet of Julie are going to be on the menu.
I heard them call down, between giggling, to women below to open the gates and when they slowly swung open we stepped forward. Leanna muttered to herself, not wanting anyone to hear ‘Do all warriors get stupid when they are on duty with their wives?’ It was an odd concept that women were allowed to marry and serve as soldiers together. But then there was little that I had experienced that day that did not come under the same heading. I knew that I would be spending the rest of my life on the island and so getting used to the strange differences between the 19th Century and this timeless place was a good idea. I would afterall have to spend something close to eternity on the island.
The village inside was, for the main part, what I would have imagined any village looking like during ancient times. The big difference being that there was not a single man there. It did have an air of normality about it though. It seemed quite natural that women were performing physical tasks, being soldiers and courting each other. In fact quite a few women gave me the type of coy smile I’d usually seen women in Hyde park give to young officers that they would have liked to know better.
I was taken to the main hall, which was guarded by a pair of warriors in white leather armor, sandals with shin plates of gold, spears, white leather battle skirts and gold Trojan style helmets. Inside I followed Leanna and did as she did. The Matriarch’s throne was not gold, nor was it encrusted with jewels. It was pleasing to the eye though. Large enough to look stately it was painted white and covered with yellow satin cushioning. At either side stood two more spearwomen dressed just as the others outside. I admired how they looked. They were powerful, yet sensual and the amount of flesh they revealed could not fail to catch the eye. They were nothing in comparison to Leanna though but then I felt that there was something about her that went beyond mere looks.
The Matriarch was dressed in stark contrast to her soldiers. Her smock and cloak were more fitting for a woman that looked to be in her sixties for a start. As a mark of her authority she wore an intricate crown of golden flowers. They were not huge blooms like roses but more like small daisies. It was quite beautiful. I remained quiet and found that I was not being presented as a person to the sovereign but as something of a gift. We both bowed and knelt before her and Leanna spoke, ‘My Lady I have searched the forest and found new bounty, which I hope pleases you.’ Unlike Leanna the Matriarch had a friendlier face and demeanor. ‘Come closer my daughter, I wish to touch your face,’ She did as commanded and knelt beside her chair. ‘I worry about you going off alone.’
Her hand caressed her daughter’s hair and cheek and it seemed as if both women had gone back a couple of generations and become mother and small child once more. ‘Before the time of the great storm Diana the Huntress sent me three of her favourite hand maidens. Two have gone back to her but I still have you. I wish to keep you and should anything happen to me then our clan will need a strong leader.’ She looked up at her mother. ‘It is not my path Mother. Adrienne or Sophia would have made fine Matriarchs but I am a hunter. I would choose to remain that way. If you were to leave us to sit at Diana’s right hand then I would wish the council to elect a Matriarch.’
‘But I love you Leanna. It would break my heart if you were hurt. Why not take someone with you next time at least?’ The older woman withdrew her hand as if it were touching something hot and she looked upset with herself. ‘I’m sorry. Please forgive me.’ Leanna withdrew and stood, still with head bowed, but sounding as if she had difficulty in swallowing, ‘Uh. I have to take your new subject to the slave’s quarters Ma’am. Please excuse me.’ The shame faced Matriarch nodded and Leanna turned and bid me follow her. It was an emotional moment in the main hall and it spoke of untold personal turmoil from days gone by.
I took the reference to the great storm to mean when the vortex manifested itself and the island was cut off. Leanna was the true daughter of the Matriarch and had once had sisters. Both had died and it was obvious both felt their loss, though as Leanna passed me I saw the beginnings of a tear and remembered how her mother recoiled when she realised she had asked her not to go alone. There was something behind that and as strong as she was the huntress had an Achilles heel. It could not be assumed however that they had lived for the thousands of years since the vortex arrived.
It was apparently the case that days passed seemingly normally but other aspects of the passage of time were out of kilter. The German crew had arrived decades before me yet I had disappeared from normal time fifty years before they were even born. The unfortunate Captain had arrived hours before me too yet after the Germans, having been in real time a hundred years after I would probably have died of old age. I knew there were more interesting quirks yet to be discovered and I wanted to know more about my gorgeous rescuer. How long had the vortex cut her off from the rest of the world and what exactly was it that bothered her so?
I followed the Princess through the narrow corridors and stairs of the castle as we headed downward to what I imagined would be dungeons. Given that so much of the castle was in ruins it did not take us long to get to a wooden door, guarded by the same two mischievous married women that were on the gate earlier. Leanna didn’t appear impressed, ‘Did you ask to transfer down here?’ She addressed the question to them both, moving her stare back and forth between them. ‘No Ma’am.’ The well-practiced look of innocence gave the two grown women the air of a pair of schoolgirls who were used to being sent to the Head Mistress.
Leanna did not trust them and so kept up her look of disbelieving disapproval. ‘Take this new slave in for acceptance. I will see the pair of you later I’m sure. In the meantime think about taking care around me otherwise the pair of you will be back to being slaves yourselves. As I recall you were useless so if you do go back I’ll make sure that punishments become a little harsher.’ I could tell that beneath it all she had a soft spot for the pair. They loved each other and the impish behaviour was a sign of how close they were and of affection they had for Leanna by baiting her. I got the impression that Leanna had no one to act like Silky and her wife Julie did. Perhaps there had been once and seeing them act the way they did made her think kindly about them even though she had to chastise un-soldierlike behaviour.
Leanna turned and departed, leaving me with the two soldiers who were fumbling around trying to find the right key. They had no idea I could speak Atlantian, ‘Do you think that Miss big ass has found THE one with this latest find?’ ‘Nah, she just acts funny with them all. Anyway I think she has a very nice ass. Wouldn’t mind a roll in the hay with her myself.’ The other straightened up and grinned, ‘Silky, you are such a tart. You know I’ll be spanking you for that later.’ That elicited a ‘mmmm’ out of the errant Silky. Then as they were about to embrace and I could see their hands wander under each other’s battle skirts, caressing the other’s buttocks. But before they managed to get their lips together a rather impatient voice from behind the door bellowed, ‘The door isn’t even locked. If you pair of idiots just stand out of the way the poor girl can get in.’
As
I went inside I was met by a delightfully cheerful woman. She was tall and slender and there was very little left to the imagination, as she was naked save for a few items of ‘clothing’. In fact all she wore was a black leather thong, a leather paddle tucked into the waistband, strapped sandals (like almost everyone I’d seen so far) and a silver collar with a ring dangling from the front. She beckoned me, believing me to be unable to understand her if she spoke. I decided to let her know what Leanna already knew and she seemed at once surprised and delighted. ‘That is going to make things so much easier for you. Sometimes it takes slaves years to learn how to speak and then they have to learn either a trade or how to be a servant before they become indentured. I like it far better when it doesn’t take too long.’
The woman was Serpa, not a slave, but a tutor and a free woman. Women that came to the clan would eventually become a part of it, finding their place in society but there was something of a road to travel first. Learning Atlantian was crucial, then after that they found what they were best at before leaving to being indentured. This meant that they weren’t quite free but they weren’t slaves either. If they performed as a citizen then their freedom would be given to them and they could come and go as they pleased. The only exception to that rule was punishment for most crimes involved going back to being a slave.
Submission to the clan and respect for the rule of the Matriarch was instilled into slaves as without it they would not make for good citizens. The paddle was used to punish the infractions of slaves and sometimes a court would sentence a free woman to regular paddling during her confinement. Serpa added, ‘Though it has other uses too. I love taking it home to my wife, she loves the paddle.’ I took that to mean she enjoyed paddling her wife as part of their bedroom games but I had got it slightly wrong, ‘Yes. Sometimes I can’t sit down for days after.’ I didn’t know what to say so said nothing. In my world, or rather in the world I used to live in, women going to bed with women was a deplorable concept. Apparently the Queen didn’t even believe such a thing was possible. If she had been surprised to learn that such things did go on then it did not compare to my own internal turmoil as I realised that I didn’t think that it was anything other than normal in my new home.
Serpa went on to tell me a little about herself, ‘I came here from 2003. My wife and I had just got married in Amsterdam and were flying to Bermuda for our honeymoon when we hit the storm. It must have been fate that we were the only two to survive.’ The future sounded very much at odds with the 19th century. So much so that I found it difficult to accept that anyone from the future would find being on Atlantis strange in the slightest. ‘We met on the Internet, in a chat room. It was quite a shock for a Domme like her to find herself a slave. Mind you I’m kind of a Domme here and I am naturally sub.’ None of that made any sense to me but I just smiled. I had enough to take in anyway without finding out what she was talking about.
‘That’s why I find wearing this stuff so comfortable. Gets me in the mood for my wife I can tell you. But the thing is I find it makes new girls feel at home as they have to wear similar clothes.’ I wasn’t sure I would take to wearing anything so revealing but I knew I’d have to get used to the idea quickly. We stopped outside a door and before opening it she said, ‘Don’t be scared. No one is going to harm you. In here all you have to do is take off those clothes, submit to being bathed and get some new slave’s clothes. Oh, you also have to get your pubic hair shaved off too for cleanliness sake. Try not to be alarmed by anything. Relax and you may even enjoy it. As for Tamsin, don’t let her trouble you. She is harmless but seems a bit backward. I don’t know if they still have drugs in the 25th century but, if so I think she’s done a few too many.’
Jeannie
- 18.08.2020
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