Amazons free porn video

When the Amazons passed from history into legend, the world thought it had seen the last of them. It hadn't, as Chris Farren was about to discover... AMAZONS by BobH (c) 2013 -1- What was I doing here, I wondered as I was ushered into the office of the head of Olympus Images? I was a jock who wasn't good enough to make the leap from high school football to the pro leagues, and I had no illusions about my academic grades, which had been lousy. So how had the employment agency ever managed to land me a job interview at such an obviously classy firm as this? Madison Avenue. I couldn't believe I was being considered for a position on Madison Avenue! "Please, wait inside, Mr Farren," said the secretary, a pretty redhead, ushering me into her boss's office and indicating the chair in front of an antique redwood desk. "Ms Marrs will be along in a few minutes." With that she returned to her own desk in the outer office. According to the shingle on that desk her name was Kelly Marrs. I wondered if she was the boss's kid sister or something. Either way, she had a great body and an outstanding rack. Her make-up was a little heavy for my taste, but if I wasn't already spoken for I would definitely have asked her out. Sitting in the chair, I glanced around me with interest. The bookcase full of books on military matters was a surprise, and the view of New York through the floor-to-ceiling windows was amazing, of course - we were on the 25th floor, after all - but it was the statue in the corner of the office that drew my attention. Life-size and carved from white marble, it depicted a well-muscled woman, naked save for some sort of helmet and a small shield, driving her trident into the body of a serpent, its rear coiled around her right leg. Like most people, I was only familiar with the statuary of the Ancient Greeks from school visits to the museum, but this looked the same as them. I wondered if it was the genuine item or a copy. "Ah, I see you're admiring my statue," said a voice behind me. I turned and rose from my seat. "Ms Marrs," I said, offering my hand, "I'm Chris Farren." Kathryn Marrs was a tall, handsome woman, with short blonde hair. She was wearing an expensively tailored trouser suit, low-heeled shoes, no make-up, and her bone-crushing handshake suggested that under her clothes could be a body to match that of her statue. Taking her place in the chair behind the desk, she said: "I could tell you were wondering and, yes, it is genuine and from the time of the Ancient Greeks." "It must be worth a fortune," I said. "Oh yes," she replied, giving the statue an admiring glance, "but I could never part with it. The woman is Hippolyte, Queen of the Amazons, and a personal hero of mine. Right. Let's get down to business." The interview that followed was not what I'd expected. Olympus Images was an advertising and public relations firm yet the only thing Kathryn Marrs seemed interested in was my athletic prowess. She wanted to know how fast I could run, how far I could throw a ball, and how much weight I could bench press. Also what positions had I played in field sports, how far could I swim, and how was I when it came to long-distance and endurance events? Don't get me wrong; I was happy to talk about that stuff, stuff that was in my comfort zone and which I'd always been really good at, but I couldn't see how any of that was relevant to the job I was applying for. Not that it mattered. Twenty minutes into the interview, after she'd pretty much learned all there was to know about my sporting achievements and physical prowess, Kathryn Marrs stood up and offered me her hand. "Welcome to Olympus Images, Mr Farren," she said as we shook. "I look forward to seeing you here tomorrow morning at nine o'clock sharp. Now, if you'll excuse me, Kelly will show you out." Kelly was already at the door as I rose to my feet and she led me over to the elevator. "Your boss is quite a woman," I said. "I know," she replied. "She's been a pretty good spouse the past five years, too." "You're married?" I said, surprised. "And for five years? I didn't think two women could legally wed in New York State back then." "They couldn't," she said, as the elevator doors were closing between us. "But then I'm not a woman." Later, back in the Jersey motel room I shared with my fiancee Carrie, I described this encounter. "It was amazing," I told her. "You would never have guessed she was a guy. And she's married to Kathryn Marrs, too. That was a shock." "It takes all sorts," said Carrie. "Did it freak you out?" "A little bit, yeah, "I admitted, "but not enough to turn down the job." "Good," she said, coming over and slipping her arms around my waist. "The sooner we can get out of here and get a place of our own the better." I smiled down at my fiancee and gently air-kissed her lips, not wanting to muss her make-up. For now, she was making ends meet waitressing and was about to head out for her evening shift. "I have to go now, sweetie," she said, pulling away and grabbing her coat and purse. "I'll see you later. Love you." "Love you, too," I said, and I really did. Carrie and I had been childhood sweethearts. She was the girl next door who moved in when I was eleven years old. From that moment on I never had eyes for anyone else. We were going to make it in the big city whatever it took. Of course, what with journey times and the different hours we worked we weren't actually getting to see much of each other at present. We had chosen this particular motel because it had an exercise room, complete with a set of weights. With Carrie gone I headed down there as I did most nights and spent the hours before bed lifting those weights and working out. Later, after showering, I stood in front of a mirror and admired my physique. And why not? I'd put a lot of work into it over the years and I was proud of what I'd achieved. I wasn't bad looking either. I had one of those faces usually described as 'ruggedly handsome' what with its square jaw, prominent browline and strong nose, all framed by my dark, wiry hair. Flexing a bicep I squeezed it with my other hand, pleased by how solid it was. I ran my fingers across my pecs and down over my six-pack abs, nodding approvingly at those rippling contours. Thankfully, I also had an impressively large cock to match my muscles. Carrie was fond of it too. If only we had more time to put it to proper use. When Carrie got back from work in the early hours of the following morning and climbed into bed beside me we barely had time to say hello and snuggle for a bit before my alarm went off. "Sorry, babe," I said, "but work beckons and I can't be late." The journey into Manhattan by bus and then subway was a real grind. On the subway there was a young couple sitting opposite me, a runty- looking guy and a girl who was too hot for someone like him. Though she tried not to, the girl couldn't stop looking at me. Who could blame her? I was tall, good-looking and ripped. I'd been attracting such attention since not long after puberty. Her boyfriend noticed her interest and glowered at me but that was all he was going to do. I had at least fifty pounds on him, all of it muscle. When I arrived at work, Kelly showed me to my office. Damn but she looked good! Even knowing she - he - was a man I couldn't help checking out that shapely body and admiring that amazing rack. I was a hundred per cent heterosexual so this was confusing as hell. "This will be your desk, Chris," he said, indicating the larger of the two in the office, "and the other is for your secretary, Julie Gibson, who you'll meet later today. If you log on to the company server - the password is your name - it'll take you straight to the induction page for new employees. Do you have any questions?" "I...no, not really," I said. "Good, then I'll leave you to it. Going through the induction process usually takes all morning." With that he left, returning to his place outside his spouse's office. Sitting at my desk for the first time I took a moment to survey the room. This was now my domain, and I would even be getting my own secretary. I wondered what Julie Gibson was like. Pretty, I hoped, but not so hot that she could tempt me away from Carrie. Not that I thought anyone could, but temptation was always most easily resisted when it wasn't there. I was still worried that I wouldn't be up to the job, but they had hired me and I guess we'd both soon find out. Giving a small sigh, I switched on my desktop computer and tapped in my name. This took me to an internal Olympus Images web page where a corporate video immediately started on autoplay. Putting my hands behind my head, I settled back in my chair to watch it. It was the usual puff piece, telling you how wonderful the company was and like that, but what I noticed about it was that all the executives and management types in it were women, and all tall, athletic-looking types too. When it was over, I went looking for the rest rooms so that I'd know where they were when I needed them. They were easy to find and were labelled with those signs depicting a stick figure and a stick figure in a skirt. I went into the former and was surprised to find it had no urinals, only stalls. As I stood there uncertainly, so a toilet flushed and Kathryn Marrs strode out of a cubicle, looking sharp and authoratative in what had to be at least a five thousand dollar suit. "'Morning, Christopher," she said, washing her hands in a basin. "I hope you're enjoying your first morning?" "Yes...um...am I in the wrong bathroom? Only I 'm sure the sign on the door indicated this was the gents." "No," said Kathryn, drying her hands, "it indicates this is the toilet for those who wear the trousers 'round here. The one next to it is for those who wear the skirts." "Yes. Right. Ok." "Good talking to you," said Kathryn, as she exited the rest room. I followed after her in a daze, emerging in time to see Kelly Marrs leaving the other bathroom. As they passed so Kathryn patted her spouse's ass. "Oh Kathryn," he giggled. "Not while we're at work." After lunch - I'd brought sandwiches, which I ate at my desk - Kelly brought Julie Gibson in to meet me. She wasn't anything like I expected her to be. Short, thin and boyish, she had short black hair, no make-up, and was wearing sneakers, jeans, a shirt, and a tie. "This is Julie," said Kelly. "Hi," I said, shaking her hand. "It's good to meet you!" she said, pumping my hand vigorously and looking me up and down in open appreciation, obviously happy with what she saw. Only it wasn't a look of lust, more that of someone pleased with something they had just bought. "Um...that's your desk over there," I said, flustered. "You've got the same induction video to watch as I just endured." When Julie was squared away, Kelly took me to one side and handed me a folder. "What's this?" I asked. "Your itinerary for the rest of the week. You don't do much actual work in your first week, but the company does insist you follow its socialisation protocols." Inside were tickets and reservations for Julie and me to restaurants and Broadway shows for the remaining nights of the week. On Saturday, according to the main sheet, we would both be flown by private jet to some place called Scythia. "I don't understand," I said. "It's very simple," explained Kelly. "At Olympus we believe the relationship between boss and secretary is a crucial one, and that it needs to be established as quickly as possible. By having you take Julie to a show or to a restaurant every night for the rest of the week we hope to create that bond swiftly and seamlessly. Talk, have fun, get to know each other." "But...every night? That means I'll barely get to see my fiancee." "We all have to make sacrifices," said Kelly, "and it is only for one week." "And Scythia?" "Is the town in upstate New York where Olympus has its corporate retreat and health clinic. You'll be given your full company medical there. It's also where Kathryn and I and many Olympus executives have our homes. It's a great place. You'll love it." "Well, OK, I guess," I said, dubiously. I knew Carrie would understand, but even so.... Later that afternoon, Kelly continued our orientation by taking us down to see the facilities in the basement. First there was a beauty parlour. "This is where we wives get free hair-styling and our make-up done professionally. It's a company perk and since our spouses like us looking our best at all times we can slip away for a session here pretty much whenever we want. It's one of my favorite things about working here." Neither Julie nor I had any real interest in this, but we let Kelly take us in and introduce us to the hair and make-up artists, clearly in his element. After that we were taken to see the gymnasium which was full of female executives working out, all of them tall and seriously ripped. Most of them had bigger biceps and better defined six-packs than I did. Among them was Kathryn Marrs. "Hello sweetie," she said, coming over to her wife and sliding an arm around his slender waist. Lifting his chin with her free hand she bent down and kissed him. It was a long kiss. I looked away, casting an eye over the other women in the gym. Having this many female bodybuilders in one place was not natural. There was something weird about this company, and it was starting to make me more than a little uncomfortable. "Right," she said, coming up for air. "Get into the changing rooms and let's see what you've got, Christopher." At last, something where I'd be in my element! I might not know exactly what Olympus wanted me to do on a day-to-day basis but I did know gymwork so I happily complied. I headed for the changing rooms leaving Julie and Kelly behind, the latter already with his make-up bag in hand, repairing his lipstick. In the changing room were a variety of fresh shorts and tank tops and even sneakers to choose from, so I was soon kitted out. "OK, weight machines first," said Kathryn on my return. "Let's see who can lift the most." Oh so it was going to be a competition, was it? Fine by me. I loved to compete. We took up adjacent machines and sat on their benches, pulling down the handle bars (which have always looked to me as if they belong on bicycles) and the wires that go over the pulleys and attach to the weights. More and more weight was added until eventually one of us cried 'uncle'. To my horror it was me. It didn't seem possible but Kathryn was stronger than me. "Never mind," she said, seeing my disappointment. "Lets see you try wrestling with Kate here." Kate, who looked no less formidable than Kathryn, was half a head taller than me and about as wide. Even so, she was still a woman so I was sure I could take her on the wrestling mat. I was wrong. One by one each of the women in that gym competed against me at something, and one by one they beat me. At the end of the session I was thoroughly chastened. It didn't seem possible, but I'd been roundly defeated at everything. "Don't take it too hard," said Kathryn, putting an arm around my shoulder at the end of the session. "There's no shame in you not beating any of us. You are only a man, after all." After I'd showered and dressed I rejoined Julie and Kelly and we headed back to the elevators. Or rather, that was the intention. Kelly and Julie were nattering away to each other and somehow we took a wrong turn and found ourselves in a corridor that terminated in a large metal door marked RESTRICTED. As fate would have it just as we got there so the door opened and a woman in a white lab coat stepped out. When she saw us her eyes widened in surprise. "What are you doing here?" she demanded. "Only authorised personnel are allowed in this section." "Sorry," I said, taking charge, "but we're kinda lost. Could you direct us to the elevators?" "Down the hall, first right then second left," she said, still regarding us suspiciously. "Thanks," I said, bundling the others back the way we'd come and wondering what I'd gotten myself into. When the woman had come through the door I'd caught a glimpse of what was in the room beyond. It was a huge stone obelisk with thick silver veins criss-crossing its surface. And those veins were glowing. Nothing was said about what I'd seen, either then or in the days that followed. And what strange days they were. Because I had yet to be given anything to do, I spent more time in the gym than at my desk, which no one seemed to mind. And since she too had very little to do Julie would usually come along and watch me work out. I was seeing a lot of Julie, and virtually nothing of Carrie. Oh, the Broadway shows and dining in fancy restaurants were great and Julie turned out to be an interesting and engaging person, but I missed my fiancee. On the final night, after we'd taken in a show, I walked Julie back to her hotel room. She opened her door, then turned to look at me. "Thanks for a great evening, Chris," she said, suddenly reaching up to kiss me on the cheek before darting into her room and closing the door after her. Well that was weird. It was the first time she had shown any sort of physical affection towards me and it wasn't something I wanted to encourage. I had no interest in her that way at all, and even if I did I was already taken. Sighing, I went into my own hotel room, which was next to hers. Ordinarily I'd have returned to our Jersey hotel to snatch as much time with Carrie as I could, but with the early morning flight to Scythia tomorrow it hadn't been feasible to do so tonight. So it was that early the next morning, after a fairly restless night, I found myself being driven from Manhattan to a small private airport. Beside me in the limo was Julie Gibson who looked both excited and a lot more rested than me. At least she respected my own obvious tiredness enough to let the journey pass in silence rather than trying to engage me in chit-chat. At the airport we climbed aboard the company learjet. There was another passenger already on board, a slightly built, crop-haired young Asian woman. Like Julie, she was dressed in jeans, T-shirt, and leather jacket. "Hi, Susie Mishima," she said, smiling at Julie and looking me up and down approvingly. "Julie Gibson," said Julie, "and this is Chrissy Farren." "Christopher," I corrected. WTF? The pretty stewardess - who I *think* was female but may not have been - came through to tell us to fasten our seat belts. We did so, and within two minutes we were airborne. "I expected there to be others along with us," I said, "maybe Kathryn Marrs and her wife." "Oh no, sir," said the stewardess, "they travelled up last night." The journey was short, no more than forty minutes - most of which Julie and Susie spent huddled deep in hushed conversation, which was fine with me - though near the end of the flight Susie had a question for me. "Are there any more at home like you?" she asked. "My brother Jack," I said. "He's two years younger'n me. Took over as quarterback on our high school football team when I graduated." "Does being a jock run in your family?" "Pretty much, yeah. Our father was captain of his college team and later served in the marines. I guess we Farrens are just a naturally macho bunch." "I think I'd like to meet Jack," said Susie. "Please fasten your seatbelts," interrupted the captain over the intercom. "We'll shortly be coming in for landing." Which we did. We set down at a little airstrip just outside a town in a picturesque part of upstate New York. "Welcome to Scythia," said the stewardess as the airplane taxied to a halt next to the small terminal building. "We hope you enjoyed your flight." When the door had been opened and the steps lowered we walked across the asphalt to where Kathryn Marrs herself was waiting for us next to her Range Rover. "Glad to see you all made it OK," she said. "Climb in and let's get going." As soon as we were all on board, she put her foot down and we tore off almost fast enough to give us all whiplash, only slowing as we got onto Main Street. At its center, Scythia was the platonic ideal of small town with lots of small stores surrounding a town square with a lovingly cared for old cannon on the green commemorating the Civil War dead, a small pyramid of cannonballs beside it. As well as more beauty parlours than seemed necessary for a town its size, a surprising number of the other stores sold weapons, both firearms and...swords? That's when how many of those on the streets were dressed in the military uniforms of our armed forces registered with me. There were no nearby bases so far as I knew so Scythia must be an unusually patriotic town. At first I took many of those in uniform to be men, but as we drove on it became clear they were all women, every one of them as tall and solidly built as Olympic Images' executives. Which also meant that those on their arms I'd taken to be women at first glance probably weren't that either. As this realisation hit me so I started to feel queasy. The penny had finally dropped. Belatedly, I began to wonder if I had fallen into the clutches of some strange cult, and if Scythia was their headquarters. I needed my job, but this was all getting too weird for me. If what I suspected was true then I wanted out, and as soon as we returned to the city I was going to quit. The car pulled up outside the church that dominated one side of the square. It was large and imposing and looked to be several hundred years old. "Are we attending a service?" I asked. "Not exactly," said Kathryn, "but there is something inside I want you to see." We entered the church together, all four of us, and as we walked down the aisle I looked around me in some puzzlement. The stained glass windows did not carry scenes from the Bible or images of saints but instead depicted bloody battles, with a huge, axe-wielding figure looming large in all of them. At the front of the church where the altar should be was a large rock. Embedded in the rock was an enormous double-headed war-axe, the one depicted in the windows. It was so large that it would need someone at least eight feet tall and heavily muscled to even lift it. Whoever this church was consecrsated to it wasn't Jesus Christ. "What is this?" I said as we reached the altar. "A cultural revelation that will change how you see the world." "What are you talking about?" "Please grasp the handle of the axe and everything will become clear." With some misgivings I did as she asked. The instant I touched the axe I found myself totally paralysed, unable to move anything but my eyes." "At last!" said Julie, excitedly. "Do I grab the axe now, too?" "Patience," said Kathryn, smiling at her indulgently. "Now that the fly has been caught in our web it would be rude not to let him know who we really are and what we're about." She turned to face me. "We're Amazons," she said, pride in her voice, "the original Amazons of legend, greatest warriors of the ancient world, and I am a direct descendant of Hippolyte. We are, as we have always been, the most faithful followers of Ares, the God of War. That's his axe, imbued with his energy and still powering his gift to us, the spell that makes us who we are." All this talk of gods and spells seemed insane, yet I could not deny my immobility. "After centuries of wandering we finally settled here during the early years of the original thirteen colonies and established Scythia. With steep hills on three sides and only a single road into town that leads here and nowhere else it's the perfect location for us, a place where we can be ourselves. A glamor at the turn off from the highway dampens the curiosity of those who might come here on a whim so our only visitors are those who have business with us. Another glamor ensures that while they see Scythia as it is they have no curiosity about us and don't tell others about us when they leave. As for what we're about.... "Through the long centuries we have kept our faith with Lord Ares and now, at last, the cosmic wheel has turned and the old gods are returning to claim back this world. When they do we will be Lord Ares' officer corp, leading his armies as they conquer all. We shall be unstoppable. When they are old enough, most of our young women enlist in the US military to be trained in the arts of modern warfare, hence all the uniforms you'll have seen on our streets being worn by those currently on leave. But be in no doubt: our true alliegance first, last, and always is to our god. Which brings us to you.... "It's a regrettable fact of human biology that women are, in general, smaller and weaker than men," she continued, "yet it never seems to have occurred to historians to wonder how then the Amazons of old were able to be such ferocious warriors and to hold their own against male foes. They know of the Gargareans but not what the true nature of our relationship was." I might have been unable to move, but Kathryn sensed my confusion. "Ah, you've never heard of them. The Gargareans were a neighbouring tribe who also worshipped Ares. He gave them to us, along with the means to transfer size, strength and aggression from their men to ourselves leaving them smaller, feminized, and submissive, which is how we eventually came to prefer the opposite sex. Since the legends have always painted us that way, you probably think we hate men, but nothing could be further from the truth. That was just anti-Amazon propaganda spread by Herodotus and others. The fact is we love men with all our hearts. We love them small, sweet, submissive, and waiting for us in the bedroom when we get home - preferably in lingerie, heels, and full make-up. We're also big believers in old-style, traditional marriage where the husband is the head of the household and the wife is dutiful and obedient, deferring to the husband in all matters. Of course, in our marriages we're the husbands and men are pretty little wives who know their place." Seeing the rising panic in my eyes, Kathryn chuckled. "There's nothing to fear," she said, "quite the opposite in fact. The process is painless and it alters reality so that as with all of our wives neither you nor anyone else except for we Amazons will remember you ever being any other way. In changing you it makes each of you the other's ideal mate. What she wants to do to do to you sexually will become what you like having done to you. The love between you and Julie will be greater than any other you could have known and you will find deep fulfulment in being her wife and serving her needs. And there's more. As women we have always had to bear our children but now, thanks to technology from...elsewhere that enables a fetus to be implanted in a man and carried to term by him, we haven't for a couple of generations. As Julie's wife you will show the depth of your love by happily bearing her children, because as the wife of an Amazon you will be blessed above all men." She turned to Julie. "One of the wonders of the Internet is that it enables people to find each other and us to find girls like Julie and Susie here who share our taste in men and our belief that their proper state is to be smaller and weaker than women and subservient to us. We always need new stock and they will be fine additions to our tribe. Now you may grasp the axe, Julie." She did so eagerly, excitement in her eyes. When her hand closed around the axe handle our bodies immediately began to change. I felt myself shrinking as she sprouted upwards and outwards, muscle mass somehow flowing from me to her. Waves of soft blonde hair cascaded over my shoulders and down onto the breasts now growing from my chest, my waist getting smaller as my butt grew rounder, bigger. I could feel my face changing too, my brow and jawlines becoming smoother and less prominent while my nose got smaller and my lips fuller. But worse even than this were the mental changes. As my body transformed so my memories were reshaping themselves to accord with this new reality. A treasured memory of the one time I ever beat Jack throwing hoops twisted to become one of Carrie and I giggling together as we played with our Barbie dolls, while the joy I remembered feeling when Dad and I succeeded in repairing the engine on our old car shifted to become joy I remembered feeling on seeing my reflection after Mom had helped me apply make-up for the first time. Desperately, I tried to hang on to my original memories, straining to keep them intact, but the effort proved too much and I blacked out.... -2- What was I doing here, I wondered as I was ushered into the office of the head of Olympus Images? I was dressing and living as a woman but I'd made no secret of my actual gender to the employment agency so how had they ever managed to land me a job interview at such an obviously classy firm as this? Madison Avenue. I couldn't believe I was being considered for a secretarial position on Madison Avenue! "Please, wait inside, Miss Farren," said the secretary, a pretty redhead, ushering me into her boss's office and indicating the chair in front of antique Redwood desk. "Ms Marrs will be along in a few minutes." With that she returned to her own desk in the outer office. According to the shingle on that desk her name was Kelly Marrs. I wondered if she was the boss's kid sister or something. Either way, she had a great body and an enviable bosom, though her make-up was a little heavy for my taste - I tried to be a bit more subtle with my own. Still, she was definitely someone I ought to befriend if I got the job. Carefully tucking my skirt under me I sat down in the chair, and glanced around me with interest. The bookcase full of books on military matters was a surprise, and the view of New York through the floor-to-ceiling windows was amazing, of course - we were on the 25th floor, after all - but it was the statue in the corner of the office that drew my attention. Life-size and carved from white marble, it depicted a tall, gorgeously muscular woman of the sort I had fantasies about, naked save for some type of helmet and a small shield, driving her trident into the body of a serpent, its rear coiled around her right leg. Like most people, I was only familiar with the statuary of the Ancient Greeks from school visits to the museum, but this looked the same as them. I wondered if it was the genuine item or a copy. "Ah, I see you're admiring my statue," said a voice behind me. I turned and rose from my seat. "Ms Marrs," I said, offering my hand, "I'm Chrissy Farren." Kathryn Marrs was a tall, handsome woman, with short blonde hair. She was wearing an expensively tailored trouser suit, low-heeled shoes, no make-up, and her firm handshake suggested that under her clothes could be a body to match that of her statue. Taking her place in the chair behind the desk, she said: "I could tell you were wondering and, yes, it is genuine and from the time of the Ancient Greeks." "It must be worth a fortune," I said. "Oh yes," she replied, giving the statue an admiring glance, "but I could never part with it. The woman is Hippolyte, Queen of the Amazons, and a personal hero of mine. Right. Let's get down to business." The interview that followed was not what I'd expected. Olympus Images was an advertising and public relations firm yet the only thing Kathryn Marrs seemed interested in was my personal life. She wanted to know what my make-up routine was, who my favorite dress designers were, and which actresses and models I most identified with. She also asked me what I was looking for in a partner, what I wanted out of life. I told her that more than anything I wanted to find a strong woman who would make me her wife, and that I had always dreamed of having a big wedding and being the bride. These were not the sort of things I usually discussed with anyone other than Carrie, but there was something about Ms Marrs that made me want to open up to her. Twenty minutes into the interview, after she'd pretty much learned all there was to know about me, Kathryn Marrs stood up and offered me her hand. "Welcome to Olympus Images, Miss Farren," she said as we shook. "Here at Olympus we have a radical, very non-traditional vision of what men could be, of the potential that's all too often stifled by the rigid view of masculinity society locks them into. You represent a different possibility for men to aspire to and are exactly the sort of man we want at Olympus. I look forward to seeing you here tomorrow morning at nine o'clock sharp. Now, if you'll excuse me, Kelly will show you out." Kelly was already at the door as I rose to my feet and she led me over to the elevator. "Your boss is quite a woman," I said. "I know," she replied. "She's been a pretty good spouse the past five years, too." "You're married?" I said, surprised. "And for five years? I didn't think two women could legally wed in New York State back then." "They couldn't," she said, as the elevator doors were closing between us. "But then I'm not a woman." Later, back in the Jersey motel room I shared with Carrie, I described this encounter. "It was amazing," I told her. "You would never have guessed she was a guy. And she's married to Kathryn Marrs, too. That was a shock." "Oh, Chrissy," said Carrie. "Did it make you envious?" "A little bit, yeah," I admitted, "but I think I'm going to love it there." "Good," she said, coming over and slipping her arms around my waist. "With luck we can get out of here soon and get somewhere better." I smiled up at my BFF and gave her a hug and an air-kiss, not wanting to muss her make-up. For now, she was making ends meet waitressing and was about to head out for her evening shift. "I have to go now, sweetie," she said, pulling away and grabbing her coat and purse. "I'll see you later. Love you." "Love you, too," I said.. Carrie and I had been best friends since childhood. She moved in next door when I was eleven years old. From that moment on we were inseparable. We were going to make it in the big city whatever it took, each of us hoping to meet the person of our dreams. Of course, what with journey times and the different hours we worked we weren't actually getting to see much of each other at present. When Carrie got in from work the early hours of the following morning and climbed into bed beside me we barely had time to say hello and snuggle for a bit before my alarm went off. "Sorry," I said, "but work beckons and I can't be late." The journey into Manhattan by bus and then subway was a real grind. On the subway there was a young couple sitting opposite me, a slim, good-looking guy and a slutty girl. He could do better. The guy couldn't stop looking at me. He didn't even try. I was used to such attention. I'd been attracting it since my first lipstick. I wasn't interested in guys but I looked like a pretty hot woman so of course they were going to check me out. His girlfriend noticed his interest - it was impossible not to - and glowered at me, hating how much prettier than her I was. I might not be interested in guys but I was as delighted by approving looks from them as any girl would be. Sometimes I would even flirt with guys. It was all confirmation I was successfully projecting the image I wanted to. When I arrived at work, Kelly showed me to my office. Damn but he looked good! I couldn't help enviously checking out that shapely body and admiring that amazing rack. He was everything I wanted to be. "This will be your secretarial desk, Chrissy," he said, indicating the smaller of the two in the office, "and the other is for your boss, Julie Gibson, who you'll meet later today. If you log on to the company server the password is usually your name - which takes you straight to the regular induction page for new employees - but you'll be viewing our alternate induction page. The password you need for that is 'Themiscyra'. Do you have any questions?" "I...no, not really," I said. "Good, then I'll leave you to it. Going through the induction process usually takes all morning." With that he left, returning to his place outside his spouse's office. Sitting at my desk for the first time I took a moment to survey the room. I wondered what Julie Gibson was like. Handsome, I hoped, and as tall and commanding as Kathryn Marrs. Perhaps I was dreaming and getting my hopes up, but they had hired me and clearly had no problem with boys like me who wanted to live their lives looking and dressing like girls, so I had to believe that Julie was cool with it too. I hoped she'd think I was pretty. I guess we'd both soon find out. Giving a small sigh, I switched on my desktop computer and tapped in 'Themiscyra'. This took me to an internal Olympus Images web page where a corporate video immediately started on autoplay. Smoothing my skirt and putting my hands together in my lap, I settled back in my chair to watch it. At first it was the usual puff piece, telling you how wonderful the company was and like that. A few minutes in Kathryn Marrs herself appeared with an interesting message. "Olympic Images was founded in the 1950s," she began, "and quickly rose to be one of the top advertising and public relations agencies on Madison Avenue. However, unlike our rival agencies we had a greater purpose than just getting consumers to buy products. That purpose was nothing less than to advance the cause of women, to change perceptions of men and women's place in the world with a view to first achieve equality with, and then the rightful mastery over men that is womankind's inevitable destiny. We knew the task would be long and slow but steady progress has been made in the intervening decades. Through the way we slanted our ads, our backing of the various women's movements, and the financial support our lobbyists have provided to those in Congress willing to advance women's progress, we believe we have made great strides. Our support of those politicians pushing for a greater role for women in the military and for the lifting of restrictions on us serving in combat roles was crucial in achieving that victory, which was a key aim in our larger plans." This was all good and well but what I couldn't help noticing was that the Olympus executives and management types in the induction video were gorgeous, athletic-looking women, all tall and commanding. Be still my heart! When it was over, I went looking for the bathrooms since I needed to tinkle. They were easy to find and were labelled with those signs depicting a stick figure and a stick figure in a skirt. After a moment's dithering, I went into the latter and was surprised to find it had urinals. Kelly was in there too, standing in front of one of the mirrors and touching up his make-up. "Oh hi, Chrissy," he said, "I hope you're enjoying your first morning?" "Yes...um...am I in the wrong bathroom? Only I'm sure the sign on the door indicated this was the ladies but there are urinals." "No, silly" said Kelly, "it indicates this is the toilet for those who wear the skirts. The one next to it is for those who wear the trousers 'round here. So you're where you should be." "Oh good", I said, going over to a urinal. Lifting my skirt and lowering my panties, I took my tinkle. "Well, time to get back to work," said Kelly, fluffing his hair. I followed after him in a daze, emerging in time to see Kathryn Marrs exiting the other bathroom. As they passed so Kathryn patted her spouse's ass. "Oh Kathryn," he giggled. "Not while we're at work." After lunch - I'd brought sandwiches, which I ate at my desk - Kelly brought Julie Gibson in to meet me. She was everything I dreamed of in a woman, all wrapped up in a man's business suit. She was so handsome I thought I might swoon. "This is Julie," said Kelly. "Hi," I said, shyly offering her my hand. "It's good to meet you!" she said, taking my hand and gently kissing my finger tips. I sighed happily, particularly when I raised my eyes and caught her looking me up and down in open appreciation, obviously pleased with what she saw. It was a look of pure lust, something I was feeling myself. "Um...that's your desk over there," I said, flustered. "There'll be an induction video to watch." When Julie was squared away, Kelly took me to one side and handed me a folder. "What's this?" I asked. "Your itinerary for the rest of the week. You don't do much actual work in your first week, but the company does insist you follow its socialisation protocols." Inside were tickets and reservations for Julie and me to restaurants and Broadway shows for the remaining nights of the week. Then on Saturday, according to the main sheet, we would both be flown by private jet to some place called Scythia. "I don't understand," I said. "It's very simple," explained Kelly. "At Olympus we believe the relationship between boss and secretary is a crucial one, and that it needs to be established as quickly as possible. By having Julie take you to a show or to a restaurant every night for the rest of the week we hope to create that bond swiftly and seamlessly. Talk, dance, have fun together, get to know each other." "But...every night? That means I'll barely get to see my roommate." "We all have to make sacrifices," said Kelly, "and it is only for one week." "And Scythia ?" "Is the town in upstate New York where Olympus has its corporate retreat and health clinic. You'll be given your full company medical there. It's also where Kathryn and I and many Olympus executives have our homes. It's a great place. You'll love it." "Well, OK, I guess," I said, excited despite myself. I knew Carrie would understand, and I definitely wanted to get closer to Julie. Later that afternoon, Kelly continued our orientation by taking us down to see the facilities in the basement. First there was a beauty shop. "This is where we wives get free hair-styling and our make-up done professionally. It's a company perk and since our spouses like us looking our best at all times we can slip away for a session here pretty much whenever we want. Its' one of my favorite things about working here." I was more interested in this than in anything else I'd seen at Olympus so far. Julie smiled and squeezed my hand as Kelly took us in and introduced us to the hair and make-up artists. He and I were in our element. We sat in adjacent chairs and let them fix our hair and our make-up while Julie looked on indulgently. After that we were taken to see the gymnasium which was full of female executives working out, all of them tall and seriously ripped. My ideal women. Among them was Kathryn Marrs. "Hello sweetie," she said, coming over to her wife and sliding an arm around his slender waist. Lifting his chin with her free hand she bent down and kissed him. It was a long kiss. "Right," she said, coming up for air. "Get into the changing rooms and let's see what you've got, Julie." Julie headed for the changing rooms leaving Kelly and me behind Kelly already had his make-up bag in hand, repairing his lipstick. I checked my own make-up in my compact mirror but decided it didn't need freshening just yet. "OK, weight machines first," said Kathryn on Julie's return. "Let's see who can lift the most." Oh so it was going to be a competition, was it? Well I knew who I'd be cheering for. They took up adjacent machines and sat on their benches, pulling down the handle bars (which have always looked to me as if they belong on bicycles) and the wires that go over the pulleys and attach to the weights. More and more weight was added until eventually one of them cried 'uncle'. Sadly it was Julie. It seemed Kathryn was stronger than her. "Never mind," she said, seeing Julie's disappointment. "Lets see you try wrestling with Kate here." Kate, who looked no less formidable than Kathryn, was half a head taller than Julie and about as wide. Even so, I was confident Julie could take her on the wrestling mat. I was right. One by one each of the women in that gym competed against Julie at something, and she more than held her own. At the end of the session she had won as many contests as she had lost. I was impressed, and incredibly turned on. I wanted her to throw me down on that wrestling mat and have her way with me right there and then. "Nicely done," said Kathryn, putting an arm around Julie's shoulder at the end of the session. "And at your age you can only get better." After she'd showered and dressed Julie rejoined Kelly and me and we headed back to the elevators, Kelly and I nattering away comparing our make-up preferences. In the days that followed Julie spent more time in the gym than at her desk and no one seemed to mind since they had not given her much to do. And because I too had very little to do I would usually come along and watch her work out. I was seeing a lot of Julie, and virtually nothing of Carrie, but if she could've seen what was happening between us she'd have understood and given me her blessing. The Broadway shows and dining in fancy restaurants were like living a dream, and spending all that time with Julie was wonderful. She treated me like a lady, opening doors for me, pulling my chair out at restaurants, and never failing to compliment me on my dresses and tell me how beautiful I looked. She was sexy and fun and so, so handsome. I wanted her so bad it hurt. I wondered if she felt the same way. I thought she did, but I didn't know for sure until the final night. We'd taken in a show, and afterwards Julie walked me back to my hotel room. I opened my door, then turned back to look at her. "Thanks for a lovely evening, Julie," I said. "Who says it's ended yet?" she replied. Smiling, she reached down to kiss me on the lips. I responded in kind, and just like that we were suddenly kissing passionately, her strong arms crushing my small body against her powerful torso, letting me know just how much she wanted me. I wanted her, too. I *ached* for her to have her way with me. "Wow!" I gasped, when she broke our embrace. "My room?" she said. I nodded, unable to speak, not quite believing after years of dreaming of this day that it was finally happening. Grinning, Julie scooped me up in those powerful arms and effortlessly carried me across to her room. Once inside she put me down and we both started frantically tearing our clothes off, her all the way and me down to my slip, garter belt, stockings and heels. I had never gotten breast implants - all my bras held were falsies - and I was momentarily concerned my flat chest would put Julie off, but I needn't have worried; her hands were all over me. Somehow she knew just where and how to touch me to get me worked up, almost as if she was as familiar with my body as she was with her own. On the bed she lay back and I ran my fingers over her magnificently muscled arms and across the rippling contours of her six-pack abs, getting very turned on in the process. She opened her legs and I climbed between them, my tongue searching out her clitoris. Her hands clamped around my head as I licked her into a frenzy, and she yelled out as she came. Then it was my turn. Julie smiled and stroked my little penis until she had me sufficiently aroused, then she reached over to the bedside table and pulled a strap-on out of the drawer. While she got up and donned this I turned over and got on all fours on the bed, presenting my anus to her, still not quite believing this was really happening. I was actually about to lose my virginity. And about time too! "Be gentle with me," I said, as the head of the dildo brushed against my butt cheeks. "Oh, I will be," she promised, "at first." She mounted me then, slowly easing the dildo into me. I felt my anus stetch to accomodate her as the shaft filled me. Then, her large hands firmly grasping my hips, she began to thust in and out, taking me, possessing me, dominating me, fulfulling me. In that moment, the moment she took my cherry, I became fully, hopelessly hers. Afterwards, lying in her arms, I felt a peace and contentment I'd never known before. So it was that early the next morning, after a night in which she had me another three times and we got very little sleep, we found ourselves being driven from Manhattan to a small private airfield. Julie had her arm around my shoulders the whole way and I snuggled up to her, feeling warm, safe and secure. At the airport we climbed aboard the company learjet. There was another passenger already on board, a slightly built, crop-haired young Asian woman. dressed in jeans, T-shirt, and leather jacket. "Hi, Susie Mishima," she said, smiling at Julie and looking me up and down approvingly. "Julie Gibson," said Julie, "and this is Chrissy Farren." The pretty stewardess - who I might once have assumed was female - came through then to tell us to fasten our seat belts. We did so, and within two minutes we were airborne. "I expected there to be others along with us," I said, "maybe Kathryn Marrs and her wife." "Oh no, miss," said the stewardess, "they travelled up last night." The journey was short, no more than forty minutes - most of which Julie and Susie spent huddled deep in hushed conversation, which I felt a little excluded from. Near the end of the flight Susie had a question for me. "Are there any more at home like you?" she asked. "Not really, no," I said. "My brother Jack's two years younger'n me. but we couldn't be more different. He was quarterback on our high school football team while I'm...well...me."" "Was that a problem for your family?" "No, not really. Our father was captain of his college football team and later served in the marines, but he never had a problem having an effeminate son and always had my back. Same for the rest of my family." "I think I'd like to meet Jack," said Susie, looking thoughtful. "Please fasten your seatbelts," interrupted the captain over the intercom. "We'll shortly be coming in for landing." Which we did. We set down at a small airstrip just outside a town in a picturesque part of upstate New York. "Welcome to Scythia," said the stewardess as the airplane taxied to a halt next to the terminal building. "We hope you enjoyed your flight." When the door had been opened and the steps lowered we walked across the asphalt to where Kathryn Marrs herself was waiting for us next to her Range Rover. "Glad to see you all made it OK," she said. "Climb in and let's get going." At its center, Scythia was the platonic ideal of small town with lots of small stores surrounding a town square with a lovingly cared for old cannon on the green commemorating the Civil War dead, a small pyramid of cannonballs beside it. As well as more beauty parlours than seemed necessary for a town its size, a surprising number of the other stores sold weapons, both firearms and...swords? That's when how many of those on the streets were dressed in the military uniforms of our armed forces registered with me. There were no nearby bases so far as I knew so Scythia must be an unusually patriotic town. At first I took those in uniform to be men, but as we drove on it became clear they were women, all of them as tall and solidly built as Olympic Images' executives, and looking really hot. Which also meant that those I'd taken to be women at first glance probably weren't either. As this realisation hit me so I started to feel excited. The penny had finally dropped. This was my idea of utopia. It actually existed and somehow, against all the odds, I had stumbled into it. I couldn't believe my good fortune. The car pulled up outside the church that dominated one side of the square. It was large and imposing and looked to be several hundred years old. "Are we attending a service?" I asked. "Not exactly, sweetie" said Kathryn Marrs, "but there is something inside I want you to see." We entered the church together, all four of us, and as we walked down the aisle I looked around me in some puzzlement. The stained glass windows did not carry scenes from the Bible or images of saints but instead depicted bloody battles, with a huge, axe-wielding figure looming large in all of them. At the front of the church where the altar should be was a large rock. Embedded in the rock was an enormous double-headed war-axe, the one depicted in the windows. It was so large that you would have to be at least eight feet tall and heavily muscled to even been able to lift it. Whoever this church was consecrated to it wasn't Jesus Christ. I shivered at the thought, causing Julie put a comforting arm around my slender shoulders. "What is this?" I said as we reached the altar. "A cultural revelation that will change how you see the world." "I don't understand." "We're Amazons," she said, pride in her voice, "the original Amazons of legend, greatest warriors of the ancient world, and I am a direct descendant of Hippolyte. We are, as we have always been, the most faithful followers of Ares, the God of War. That's his axe, imbued with his energy and still powering his gifts to us, his gift to you." "To me?" "Yes, to you. Worship only him and he has the power to grant your heart's desire. If you grasp the handle of the axe everything will become clear." With some hesitation and nervousness I did as she asked. The instant I touched the axe I felt my body changing. Looking down I gasped as the falsies were pushed out of the top of my bra by the breasts emerging from my chest, watched goggle-eyed as my waist grew smaller and my butt expanded. In seconds it was over and I had the perfect hourglass figure of an old time movie star. "Like it?" said Kathryn Marrs, grinning. "It's wonderful!" I said, my eyes brimming with tears, "a dream come true!" "Hey, don't cry, baby," said Julie, taking me in her arms, "your mascara will run." And then - it was the oddest thing - I was hit by a sudden pang of uncertainty, a feeling that something else had just happened to me, something I couldn't remember but was enormously important. "Wait!" I said. "Why would Ares do this for me? He's a god of war, not of love. I don't understand." "You don't need to worry your pretty little head about that," said Kathryn. "Just concentrate on looking the best you possibly can for your lover. It's your hair, make-up, and clothing that are the most important things to you now and which should command your full attention. Your main job is to look sexy and be perfectly groomed at all times. You'll be much happier if you leave the thinking to Julie. She'll make all the decisions for both of you." Julie kissed me then, for what seemed like a long time. When she broke the kiss I sighed happily. Kathryn was right. I had been given an unbelievable gift yet here I was worrying about a vague feeling. It was nothing, and I was being silly. Julie pulled away from me. "I know it's only been a week," she said, "but I think we both know this is the real thing, that we've found our soul mate, so there's no point waiting any longer." With that she took a small box from her pocket and got down on on one knee. "Chrissy Farren," she said, "will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?" "Oh god, yes!" I said, tearing up, "yes, yes, yes!" - 3 - It had been three glorious months, filled with amazing sex. Julie and I could barely keep our hands off each other we were so crazy in love. My tongue seemed to spend most of that time in Julie's pussy and it sometimes felt as if her strap-on had taken up permanent residence in my derriere. Yes three wonderful, wonderful months, during which I'd been deliriously happy, and now at last the big day itself was here. "Do you have them?" I asked, nervously. "You haven't forgotten them, have you?" "Of course I haven't," said my mother, producing two small boxes from her purse. "Now stop fretting, hold still, and late me put them in for you." "Yes, Mom," I said, as she opened the first of these and took out a pair of diamond earrings. She threaded the wires through my pierced earlobes then stood back and studied me. "How do I look?" I asked her. "As radiant as every bride should on their wedding day," she said. "You really do," said Jack "So do you," I said. And he really did, too. Mom opened the other box and took out the pearl-drop earring she'd brought for Jack. Her earrings were the 'something borrowed' for both of us. We were wearing matching dresses whose plunging necklines really showed off the newly-acquired breasts we were both so proud of, and we'd had our make-up done by Olympus Images' top make-up artist. Under our dresses we were wearing corsets that made our already tiny waists even tinier, and 'skyscaper' heels that did fabulous things for our posture but made toppling over at any moment a distinct possibility just as the tightness of our corsets increased the possibility of us swooning. Still, these were what our husbands-to-be wanted us to wear so wear them we did. "Susie's a lucky woman," I told Jack, marvelling at how beautiful my baby brother looked. "So's Julie," he replied. "They're both very lucky women to have such pretty boys for their brides," said Mom, beaming with pride. And we *were* pretty, I couldn't deny it. Why would I want to? We had button noses, luscious lips, and large, startlingly blue eyes, that gave us perfect doll-like faces. Add in our long blonde hair, prominent breasts and tiny waists, and we looked a lot like the Barbies we had adored as children. Jack and I were truly blessed to have the parents we did, parents who had always accepted and embraced the femininity of their sons, and we both knew it. The door opened and our father came in, looking splendid in his old marine dress uniform. "Are they ready?" he asked. "Let me just put their veils down and then we're good to go." This she did, then Jack and I picked up our bridal bouquets and each took one of Dad's arms. We left the church's anteroom and headed for the top of the aisle, Carrie falling in behind us as we did so. She was Maid of Honor to both of us, which was only right as we three had been inseparable friends since we were children. I hope she finds someone of her own soon. She deserves to be happy. We arrived at the top of the aisle and the organist struck up 'Here Comes the Bride'. Dad then led us down the aisle towards altar where our grooms awaited us looking very handsome in their dark, tailored suits. Kathryn Marrs was there in her official robes too, of course. Being not only our leader but also Ares' high priestess, it was she who would be marrying us. This was the happiest day of our lives and both Jack and I knew who was responsible for it. I turned to him just before we reached our grooms and smiled. "Hail Ares!" I whispred. "Hail Ares!" he replied. * The End ***************************** Notes: 1. You'll note that Amazon sex is remarkably similar to that in my SWITCH WORLD tales. This is not a coincidence. Also...yet another story in which Gods and their reality-changing magic appear? Why, it's almost as if I had a plan or something. You'll see what that plan is in the forthcoming 'Altered Fates: 2065'. That's where you'll also learn just what that mysterious object in the basement is for. 2. Carrie and Mr & Mrs Farren are of course covered by the same glamor that ensures that while visitors see Scythia as it is they have no curiosity about it and don't tell others about it when they leave.