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Introduction: A Guide to the Pronunciation of Names:

I give you this pronunciation guide of person and place names just as a helpful reference if you wish to use it. If not, just enjoy reading this erotic, sensual story and not bother with name and place pronunciation. Those Amazons certainly had difficult names to pronounce, but I doubt if they were difficult for them. LOL

Natazia (Nah-tahz-ee’-ah); Sukhumian (Sook-mahn’-ee);Gumista (Goo-mis’-tah); Batumi (Bah-tu’-mee); Hippolyte (Hi-pahl’-eh-tah); Maroula (Mar-oo’-lah); Andromeda (An-drah’-meh-dah); Andromache (An-droh’-ma-kee); Aello (Ah-yell’-oh); Ainia (Ah-ee’-nih); Ainippe(Ah-ee-nih’-pay); Thermodon (Ther’-moh-dahn); Alexandroupolis (Al-ex-an-droo-poh-lis)



Thunder echoed in the night. Bolts of lightning zig-zaged their way back into the black abyss. Heavy, thick storm clouds scudded before the south, south-easterly winds of hurricane strength. Seas of giant waves, some as tall as forty feet from trough to crest, joined in the maelstrom stirred by Nature’s hand.

It was a night not to be on the water; however, the sailing, merchant ship laden with goods that had set sail from the port town of Batumi, a seaport town on the southwest of what is now known as Georgia, a country with present day Russia to the north and Turkey to the southwest, was in the midst of the storm.

It was bound for the port of Alexandroupolis which is located on the southern country of present day Turkey. It was a busy shipping port nestled inside a safe harbor that was surrounded by high, rugged cliffs of jagged rock which protected the town.

Their sailing direction was to the south-southwest where they would go through the narrow Bosporus, leaving the Black Sea and sailing into the Aegan-Mediterranean Sea.

The cargo, sailing ship left with the tide on a beautiful, calm evening when the sun was just beginning to sink low in the western horizon. The sea was like glass. No one knew what lay ahead of them as they crossed the Black Sea, a sea where violent storms can come up suddenly and without warning. This was one of those times.

The sail began with a fair southwest wind, and the owner of the sailing, cargo vessel, Sukhumian looked forward to a pleasant journey with his daughter Natazia and wife Gumista accompanying him whom he took on this trip because he planned to stay in port and enjoy some time with his family in the town and surrounding area.

Now, however, they were caught in the power of the storm as the cargo ship bounced around from one giant wave to another, sometimes dipping its rails deeply into the waves and taking on water to the point of almost capsizing. Therefore, what began as a pleasant sail turned into a nightmare.

Bobbing like a cork on water, the tiller having been tied off since it had no effect on steering the large vessel, all were left to the fates. The sail had been shreded by the ferocious wind even though it had been hauled down and tied securely onto the boom. Now the only thing they all could do was hold on and pray they survived the terrible storm.

Natazia had wedged herself between the mast and halyard that raised and lowered the sail. Her father Sukhumian stood by her side while bracing himself as best he could. His wife Gumista had planted her feet firmly on the deck while she clung to the silk sash Sukhumian wore around his waist to make snug his robe of high rank as one of the wealthiest merchants of Batumi whose family could trace their bloodline back to the royal family.

Without warning a huge, rogue wave that built from three giant waves coming together, rose up before their little boat, forming a massive wall of water that curled at the crests and engulfed the cargo ship and all aboard, turning it over and over again until the backs of the rogue wave let the boat slide down into a deep trough. Unfortunately, the boat was now floating with its bottom up while the topside remained under the still raging sea.

All Natazia remembered was how cold the water was and darkness, absolute darkness, and then she blacked out.

The hurricane raged on and done its harm, and as quickly as it came, it left, letting the sea come to rest with waves four feet high and moving in the same direction…west/southwest.

It was early morning when Natazia regained consciousness. Everything seemed fuzzy, and her head ached. Her blood pounded in her temples with each heart beat. She remained still, afraid to move, but finally, remembering the events of the night before and the great storm that capsized and flung her overboard into the raging sea, she worked hard to clear the cobwebs from her head.

She remembered squeezing between the mast and halyard as best she could and holding on for her life while her father stood beside her and pressed her against the mast while holding on himself. Her mother? Her mother held on to her father’s sash, fighting to keep her feet under her or find something else on which to hold, but her knees buckled beneath güvenilir bahis her, and she fell to her knees onto the tossing deck.


Natazia blinked her eyes several times to get them focused and accustomed to the glaring, bright sunlight shining down upon her.

“How unlike last night,” she mused in her still throbbing head.

She then felt something hard and wet on which she was lying, her arms wrapped around it and her legs spread on either side. Trying to put the pieces together, she focused and willed her attention onto her present situation. It was then she saw that her arm was still wrapped around a large piece of the single mast, and it was caught between the halyard and it.

She got her arm out from between the halyard and piece of mast, raised herself into a sitting position on the mast, and looked around for other survivors but saw none. Not one. She didn’t see her father. She didn’t see her mother. Reality of her situation finally fixed itself in her mind: She was all alone, and she didn’t know where she was.

Tears filled her eyes, and she sobbed her anguish and grief at her loss. She also cried for being stranded alone on a small, sandy beach that quickly gave way to walls of rough stone that rose almost straight up from the water’s edge.

Lost and forlorn, Natazia buried her head in her hands and cried her heart out. She cried and cried until there were no more tears left. Only questions. Questions and saddness.

“What am I going to do now?” she asked herself softly, still sobbing with her tears running down her cheeks.

Truthfully, she didn’t know. She didn’t know where she was. She didn’t know where to go. She didn’t know how she would survive being stranded as she were in that god-forsaken place.

Finally, all cried out with not a tear left except for those that blurred her vision, she worked to focus her eyes, and what she finally saw was a semi-circle of tall, well-muscled, smooth legs before her.

Startled, Natazia wiped the tears from her eyes and raised her head. Before her stood seven tall women with sandals on their feet that were wrapped with leather thongs around their calves. A short leather skirt, looking more like armor, defined their muscular thighs. A light, loose garment of gossamer green poked out loosely from beneath their leather armor that had accentuated breast forms, and their armor gave way to their muscular arms. From there they had long, smooth necks upon which rested their individual, beautiful faces that were crowned by silken hair of different colors that hung below their ears in stunning ringlets. Upon their heads each woman wore a helmet that went to a semi-rounded point at the top.

Natazia looked bewildered, and her sweet, ruby-red lips were slightly agape as she looked at each of the seven women standing before her.

“Well, well, now. What have we here girls?” Maroula, a commander of the Amazons, asked in mock surprise.

“It looks as if we’ve found ourselves a lost beauty, Maroula,” answered Andromache, one of the Amazonian fighters. “Don’t you agree, Aello?” she asked with continued mock surprise.

Natazia was becoming very self-conscious as well as embarrassed from being surrounded by these seven, tall, beautiful, powerful women who were well-armed with bows, swords, and spears. She had never seen anyone like them, and her heart raced from their sudden presence on this beach she had thought was deserted.

“Who…who are you?” Natazia asked sheepishly.

All seven of the warrior women gazed upon Natazia’s beautiful face with her dark hair that had a large, rolled braid pinned on the front-top of her head with the rest parted in the middle and combed down the back and sides of her head, ending beyond shoulder length. However, Natazia’s well-groomed and styled hair was disheveled by having it tossed about by brutal waves and soaked with salt water.

Her sparkling eyes were dark brown as were her eyebrows that defined her swarthy complexion that was characteristic of her birthplace and country (now named Georgia that lies between present day Russia and Turkey).

Natazia’s cheeks still had a healthy glow about them, and her lips still retained the darkness of rippened cheeries.

The seven Amazonian warriors were astounded by Natazia’s facial beauty, but they could not avoid the beauty of her body.

She was tall, but not as tall as most of them, and had a long, smooth neck that continued onto her shoulders and slender arms. However, what caught their intense attention was Natazia’s breasts which they could see because the top of her garment had been ripped during the storm, exposing her left shoulder and the top of her firm, medium-sized breasts that kept rising and falling with each breath she took. They also saw one of her thighs that was visible due to a long tear in her dress.

Each warrior was beginning to sway a little from side to side and squeeze their thighs together as they felt sexual feelings beginning to agitate their türkçe bahis bodies and make them wet between their legs.

From Natazia’s well-formed breasts, even though they weren’t overly large, the saw how small her waist was and how her hips flared out to match the size of her chest. Because of her dress they couldn’t see much of her legs except that part made visible by the tear, but they did imagine they would be equally as beautiful as the rest of her body. Besides, they saw she had dainty feet by comparison to theirs, the feet of women warriors.

Each of the warriors looking at one another with unspoken approval at what they saw in Natazia, made a decision in her own mind, but it was one of the younger warrior women, Anippe, who spoke up.

“What is your name, girl?”

Startled by one of them talking to her, Natazia didn’t know how to react at first.

“What’s the matter? Are you mute? Are you mute and deaf?” Anippe asked playfully but brashly.

It wasn’t that Natazia didn’t understand what she was being asked. She knew how to speak both Greek and Turkish. It was just she was caught off guard by the sudden questions thrown at her by Anippe.

Beginning to speak quite softly at first, Natazia answered Anippe’s questions. “Yes, I can hear and speak. And I understand what you asked me since I know your tongue.”

Now feeling a little more sure of herself, Natazia told the women about the terrible storm the night before, how their merchant ship went down with all hands on board, including her father and mother, and how she survived by having been bound by the halyard to the piece of wooden mast.

As Natazia told her sad tale, the women’s joint concern for her swelled within the group. It was Maroula who spoke up.

“What is your name, girl?” Maroula asked.

“It is Natazia,” she answered.

“Well, Natazia, we can’t leave you stranded alone on this deserted beach with nothing around you for miles. We’ll take you with us to our home in Thermodon at the mouth of the Bosporus River that connects the Black Sea with the Aegean Sea,” Maroula said.

Natazia’s ears perked up and her eyes lit up.

“I know the place! Or at least the Bosporus River,” Natazia said excitedly. “We were sailing from our home port of Batumi in Georgia with a shipment of goods to cross the Black Sea, go through the Bosporus, and into the Aegan Sea to trade with the town of Alexandroupolis on the northern coast.”

Maroula smiled at Natazia and said, “Then you do know where we are going, but you’ve not been to our home in Thermodon. It is there we shall introduce you to our Queen of the Amazons, Hippolyte.”

“Amazons?” Natazia exclaimed. “You’re Amazons?” she asked.

“Certainly. Can’t you tell from how big we are and well-armed? And don’t you know Thermodon is one of our great cities, our original home?” Maroula replied.

Having said that, Maroula turned and began to leave the beachhead, taking Natazia in tow, and the other warriors followed behind in single file with their weapons at the ready. They were some of, if not the, finest archers in the land.

At one time the peoples of the region were a matriachial society, but then there came a time when surrounding countries that were patriachal in nature went to war against them with the intent of subjugating them and bringing them under their rule.

However, the armies of the matriarchial lands fought back, the women as well as the men, and they won. In time the women became the ruling class and became the head of both house and government. As time passed the men were relagated primarily to do the labor, and a special few were chosen for producing children. This was their way of life for quite some time until in the end the women who had become quite strong in all areas of their society, including warriors, chose to be totally independent of men except for the necessary purpose of having children.

The men and women came to an agreement where male children were reared by the men and female children were reared by the women. This was done separately.

Out of this matriarchal society came not only those who governed their land but great warriors who became known by the land in which they lived and ruled: Amazonia. In time many of the women became warriors, developed their bodies, and trained in the art of war.

Thus did the Amazons perpetuate their own land and themselves, but they also increased in numbers by women taken in battle or brought to them in other ways, often by choice.

This was the case with Natazia whom the group of Amazon warriors found alone and stranded on the beach below their fortified home of Thermodon that was located at the mouth of the Bosporus River.

The Amazons walked in single file with Maroula in the lead and with Natazia following behind her. Not much was said while they walked and climbed the rough, rock-faced walls that led up to the town through narrow passages.

In the quiet this gave Natazia time to think back on all that had happened to her in less than the past güvenilir bahis siteleri twenty-four hours: the sail across the Black Sea; the great storm that engulphed them and sent the boat to the bottom; the loss of all hands, including her mother and father; and now this, being in the company of Amazon warriors who were taking her to a place she had never been and knew not what her fate would be.

In about an hour the group walked out from between an opening in the rock and onto a flat plain with the city of Thermodon before them.

“Ah, home at last,” Maroula said joyfully.

Her words brought Natazia out of her half-hypnotic state, and she raised her head to see what home for the Amazons looked like.

Thermodon, being a town built high on a level plateau surrounded by rugged, rock faces that overlooked the Black Sea to the north and the Bosporus to the east, had buildings made of quarried rock. The town was built with straight, small streets that ran parallel and side streets ran perpendicular. The main street, however, was wider than all the other streets.

The buildings were not tall, being one or two stories high, and the main street that ran down the middle led up to a large building that was the Assembly Hall where the Amazons gathered for business, politics, and other activities. Thermodon was a democracy where each woman had a voice in what was to be even though they had a queen to oversee life of the Amazons: Hippolyte.

Maroula led Natazia and the other six Amazons to their Queen and Assembly Hall to make their report and to present Natazia to Hippolyte.

The Queen had already been given the report of their coming from the sentries and message carriers.

Then too, one of the group had gone ahead to announce their arrival to the Queen so she would know how long it would be before the group’s arrival so she would, indeed, be ready to receive them, especially since she was told there was a strange woman with them.

Natazia looked in awe at her surroundings as she was led up seven steps by Maroula to the face of the building that had seven, round columns supporting the front of the building. Once past the seventh step the group walked across a short walkway and entered the building through two, large, wooden doors that were faced with copper that had figures of women warriors in many poses. Some archers with bows at the ready or pulled back to let the arrows fly. Others sat astride horses. The Amazons were excellent in riding horses. There were even some images of women wrestling one another or fighting men.

Natazia looked left and right as they walked past the doors and into a semi-darkened hall lit by torches. This being quite a contrast having come in from the sun Natazia had to allow her eyes to adjust to the change before she could see her surroundings.

There were a series of tiered, rows of seats and more columns holding up the weight of the roof, but what caught Natazia’s eyes were the three steps that led up to a high daiz on which was seated the Queen of the Amazons, Hippolyte. There were tall, rock-hewn, candles filled with wax and each had a floating wick in them. There were three behind her and three on either side of her. Altogether their flickering flames illuminated the space about her as if she had a golden aura around her.

Six of the Amazon warriors stopped at the bottom step and stood at attention three abreast on either side of the stairs to the dais. Maroula climbed the three steps with Natazia in hand.

“When you stand before our Queen, give a polite bow of your head to honor her,” whispered Maroula.

Maroula and Natazia now stood in front of Queen Hippolyte, bowing their heads and waiting for her to speak.

Hippolyte cleared her throat before speaking.

“And what did you bring me, Maroula, my trusted commander?” asked the Queen in a low, sweet voice.

Having been spoken to, Maroula raised her head and nudged Natazia gently on her side to have her do the same.

“We found this young woman stranded on the shore below the rugged cliffs that overlook the Bosporus. The merchant boat headed for Alexandroupolis on the Aegean was its destination, but it was caught in a terrible storm last night and sank, leaving all to die, including her mother and father. Her being tied to a piece of boom kept her afloat and undoubtedly saved her life. Flowing with the current, she ended up on the shore below our city,” Maroula repeated the events as told her by Natazia.

Hippolyte looked Natazia over from head to toe, and what she saw she liked.

“My, my, sweet one. You are a beautiful, young woman. What is your name?” asked the Queen in a sultry voice.

Natazia looked at the Queen with her brilliant, brown eyes, studied what she saw before she answered the Queen’s question.

Hippolyte was extremely tall which Natazia could tell even though she was sitting in her royal chair. She was also very beautiful of face and form, but what really caught her eye with astonishment was the fact Hippolyte’s flowing gown of royal blue that hung to the floor and covered her shoulders was cut completely low so that her beautiful, large breasts capped with large, crimson nipples and areolas were completely bare, being held up and supported by a sash underneath them.

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