A Kind of Warfare
by: de Bonheur



Disclaimer: The characters of Xena and Gabrielle belong to MCA / Universal, and are used without intent for commercial profits. The author's copyright does not extend to said characters.
Notice: The author retains all rights automatically attached to the creation of this work.
Warnings: This story contains mature contents and may be offensive to some readers. It's definitely for adults only. Otherwise, caveat emptor.
Author's Note: "Festival of Flowers" was a three-day Dionysian festival celebrated in ancient Greece during the month of Anthesterion. I have taken liberty in the description of events.

When the warrior regained consciousness, she was aware only of the manacles which bound her wrists and ankles. And the darkness which assaulted her blinded sight. Her muscles teetered between being alive with memories of pain and spent exhaustion. Tremors racked her abused body. Even the slightest shudder caused a simmer of sensations which threatened to overwhelm her. Her body was no longer her own.

Xena was confused. Her emotions were in turmoil.

Remembering, the events of the night before flashed like a bolt of lightning burning through her still dazed mind.

Her warrior instincts screamed in silent anguish.

. . . . . . .

It was the second day of the annual Festival of Flowers, Gabrielle's first attendance as the Amazon Queen. The whole village had been indulging in the newly fermented wine; even children had their own pitchers. Each Amazon tried her damnest to best the other in countless drinking contests.

When sundown finally arrived, the Amazons proceeded to the enactment of the sacred rites. The priestess, the Queen and her Regent presided over the affair on the dais. It had been a long day and never one for noises and crowds, the Warrior Princess chose a quiet spot away from the raucous. Sheltered by the safety of being on Amazon ground, she luxuriated in the spectacle before her.

The dais was covered with first shoots of fragrant blossoms. Behind it were fourteen altars heaped with fruits and sweet cakes. The priestess performed the oath of purity on the same number of beautiful Amazons, who then danced with sensuous abandon for their god. Their sheer multi-tiered gowns swirled and undulated in the air. They hid nothing.

Xena felt intoxicated.

Her senses not captured by the rites, however, but by the regal beauty of the Queen... The confident smile... The lips bewitching under the feathered mask... The radiant gold of her hair... The lithe body barely restrained in the amazon outfit... The sparkles of the green eyes which always return to her, mesmerizing, dimmed even the full moon light... She was lost in the vision which was her Gabrielle.

Smiling secretly, her thoughts drifted to the night before, reliving the exquisite moments of her bard's sweet surrender...

And it was too late when the Warrior Princess realised the cold spring air was not the only cause of the shiver which began at her neck and swept down the base of her spine.

Before she could react, muscled bodies descended upon her. Xena cursed herself for leaving her weapons in the hut, and for letting down her guard. She fought back, and defended herself well under the circumstances. But against the vigilance of her attackers, she never had a chance.

Amidst the chaos, all Xena could register was the sharp edge of a pair of brown eyes.

. . . . . . .

She trembled involuntarily at the image. The clattering of chains merely an added reminder of her helpless prone state.

Xena braced herself for the brutal onslaught of remembrance and sensations.

. . . . . . .

The Warrior Princess was unceremoniously thrown onto a wooden platform covered with a sheet. Possibly to catch any bloodletting, the former warlord mused.

Swiftly and efficiently, her captors lifted and secured her wrists, positioned her hips, spread and shackled her ankles. Then they filed out and just left her there.

Xena could not believe she had allowed herself be captured. Her face burned red with humiliation and anger; and she struggled uselessly against the restraints holding her.

An eternity passed.

The door opened and closed. Soft, steady footsteps approached, and stopped just to her left. Xena turned and met her adversary.
She was a potent foe, the Warrior Princess conceded. Trim, compact frame exuding control and might; a self-possession and feralness which would chill any less worthy opponent. The blonde was wielding Xena's breast dagger, a menacing smirk, and a piercing gaze. She surveyed the body like a slave master, her most priced possession.

The dark warrior was quite a sight. Wild black hair... Deep sapphire eyes... Defiant lips... Face flushed with exertion... Upper body well developed by constant training, and displayed by the manner of restraint... Full breasts straining against the amazon shift... Flat stomach... Powerful muscled legs...

In reaction, a terrifying surge of power tore through the blonde's veins, fanning the already raging fire deep within her. Excitement dripped down her legs, saturating her body with intense, animal heat.

Something in those eyes caused Xena's body to tense up visibly despite the admonition of her trained instincts. Her warrior mask slipped.

Her breath came in ragged gasps, but she continued to battle her adversary, daring the blonde to do her worst. Metal clanged and thrashed against wood in a fury. But the blonde, oblivious, simply smiled too sweetly at the Warrior Princess, evidently enjoying her struggle and predicament.

She knew she was playing with fire, but she was enjoying this game much too much to worry about incurring Xena's wrath (too late for that) or burning in Tartarus later (Hades would probably be proud of her). She intended on revenge and to break Xena in the process.

Afterall, it was the Warrior Princess who created her need for power and dominance.

. . . . . . . .

"Gods, I've created a monster!" But Xena did not have the freedom to dwell on that. Just as she didn't then.

. . . . . . . .

The warrior let loose a feral grin which could freeze the heart of the fiercest warlord and taunted, "Come on, let's get it over with. Show me what you've got."

Her captor snickered. "Xena, Xena, Xena!" she jeered, and started to stalk around the platform, stroking and tugging viciously at the metal cuffs and chains that bind the Warrior Princess. "I will have my prize at last: you'll be mine to do with as I wish. And you know what they say about paybacks..."

Two pairs of eyes locked onto each other in a battle of will and wiles. The room stilled.

The former warlord's heartbeat pounded in her ears and resonated into the silence. It was more than Xena could bear.

Her captor must have sensed it, too. Like a predator sensing the weakness in its prey.

The blonde licked her lips lightly with the tip of her tongue, and sauntered toward the warrior, stopping when a mere step separated them.

Slowly, she ran Xena's dagger along the straps which held her own leather outfit together. The warrior's gaze never left her captor's face as the pieces fell to the ground.

The woman's chest heaved with each heavy breath, and what was happening became very obvious to Xena. She lifted an eyebrow at the blonde's already hard nipples and practically purred, "It seems like I'm not the one being conquered here."

"Oh, really?" the woman smirked, and reached out, grabbing the front of Xena's amazon shift and yanked her upward hard against her bonds.

Surprised by the slim woman's strength, a rush of adrenaline coursed through the warrior's veins. It left a blazing trail of hormones in its wake.

Before Xena could react in any way, the woman sliced open the front of her shift and with one fierce pull, tore the garment off. For a brief moment, disbelief shown in Xena's eyes, before it was replaced by something more primal, and more dangerous...

The blonde pressed her body against her captive's and lowered her head to take Xena's bottom lip between her teeth, almost drawing blood. Then she ground her mouth hard against Xena's lips, thrusting her tongue between them. The warrior clamped her lips tight and fought the violation.

Urged on by the desire to assert herself and put the Warrior Princess in her place, the woman allowed her hunter instincts to flare. She took the enlarged nub of Xena's nipples roughly between her fingers, pinching and rolling. Her knee slammed against Xena's centre kept the same harsh, rhythmed pressure. All the while, she gazed unblinkingly at her victim.

The dark warrior closed her eyes at the intensity of everything and let escape a small moan. Whether it was with desire, pleasure or pain, the blonde could not be sure and did not seem to care.

Xena tried to hold on to the one thought that kept her grounded...

. . . . . . .

"Gabrielle..." softly escaped her bruised lips before she could stop herself. Her keen hearing assured her that she was not heard. The warrior was left alone to inventory the damage.

. . . . . . .

The woman decided she had had enough of the Warrior Princess' defiant gaze. She ripped a strip from the discarded shift, and lashed it tight over Xena's eyes.

With her knee still stroking the exigency of her prey, the blonde raked her nails viciously along Xena's tender sides, leaving deep red furrows in their wake. She took the warrior's sensitive ear lobe between her teeth and breathed, "You can relax and we can enjoy this, or you can fight me and humiliate yourself further."

The teeth continued their assault down the Warrior Princess' neck and shoulders, bruises tracked steadfastly behind...

"I know you. I know you better than you know yourself."

Xena trembled at the touch, the need in her striking and impossible to be denied.

"... And I know you're loving this."

She winced at a particularly vicious bite at the centre of her throat.

"You want this. You can't hide from me..." A breath invaded the other ear, "Ever."

. . . . . . .

The former warlord whimpered impulsively, like she did then, as she pictured the savage gleam of a predator in the intent eyes.

. . . . . . .

Gliding down the warrior's body, her hand roamed possessively over the supple flesh of Xena's breasts, fondling and squeezing them, until she felt the nipples harden into sharp points piercing her palms. She scraped her nails across the swollen buds, rolled the dark tips between her thumbs and forefingers and tugged roughly. Enough to force a moan from the warrior's lips.

She lowered her mouth and with a fever, captured a nipple. She alternated between suckling like a baby, drawing as much surrounding flesh as possible into her mouth, and pawing and tearing at the tender bud, shaking her head to and fro like a ravenous animal attacking her prey.

A hot flood washed over her hand when she rammed her fingers between the slick silky folds. She snickered.

"I love how you want me, Xena."

The Warrior Princess trembled. It was equal part fear, desire, and something else. Involuntarily, she arched up into her captor's probing hand. Her body betrayed her passion and her need. She knew it was futile to resist and let herself be drawn into the vortex of desire which threatened to consume her.

A guttural groan responded to a growl, as demanding hands ran all over her body.

She accepted the warm tongue which probed her mouth roughly, and returned the lashing with growing ardor.

Soft laugh of triumph escaped from the mouth covering hers.

. . . . . . .

The warrior cursed herself for her weakened state, and tried to anchor herself to a single thought: although her body was lost, she still had controlled over her own heart and soul.

She recited the statement to herself like a mantra...

But heard only the soft laugh of her conqueror.

She shuddered.

. . . . . . .

Suddenly, the ravishment ceased. Xena gasped at the loss. She sucked in her breath and waited.

She almost choked when a firm leathery cylinder extended the assault. Her tongue acted on its own accord, slathering the provoking object.

Just as abruptly, the leather was replaced by a hot smooth tongue...

A yelp of surprise tore from her lips when cold metal clips savagely captured her already tortured nipples. She felt the tug of a chain connecting them, and to the insistent pounding between her own legs.

Firm thighs straddled her stomach. Her eyes widened when the mild tug of her nipples turned into frantic jerks.

She felt agile wrists smacked against her stomach with each in-and-out stroke. And heard the slick wet noises emitting from the slim body writhing against hers. Pumping hard.

Faster and harder she stroked, slapping her ass against Xena's hips, hauling the rock-hard buds along for the ride. The Warrior Princess was held hostage by the intensity of the woman's impending climax.

It was earth-shattering.

An inhuman moan gushed from the woman's lips as she crumpled onto Xena. And sank her teeth into the warrior's shoulder, drawing blood. She sucked at the wound.

Xena felt her blood pulse through her. And her muscles spasmed in sympathy.

. . . . . . .

She still responded to the desire and the rough treatment. Her body roared...

And she sighed.

. . . . . . .

With a start, the blonde arched up.

Before Xena could register the implications of her motions, she tore the clamps off the tender nipples.

The warrior had no time to adjust to the pain at her chest as another ripped through her.

With a firm push, she was impaled to the core. Only the slick heat of her captor soothed the charge. The ring of muscles tensed. A knee pushing hard lodged the leather cylinder in Xena's tight channel.

The woman revelled in the helpless trembling of the warrior beneath her.

She probed the wetness between her captive's thighs with expert fingers. Teasing... Stroking...

Again and again she pushed the warrior to the edge, then pulled back. Xena's body rose of its own volition, wanting to follow the tormenting digits. Each time it was denied the release it craved.

The Warrior Princess quivered from the hunger of her body. Sobs of longing racked through her.

"Tell me, is this what you want?" A voice gruff with excitement broke through the haze.

She tried to clear her mind, to block out the sensations crashing through her body. But her entire person was beyond passion, beyond desire.

"If you want it, you're going to have to ask for it."

. . . . . . .

"Please... I need..." Xena thought she said. She wasn't sure. As she was having a hard time breathing, let alone talking.

The warrior cringed at the desperation in the words.

. . . . . . .

The Warrior Princess' captor must have heard the defeat, one way or another.

She was everywhere.

Her fingers plundered her heated centre. Thrusting... Deeper and deeper... Rubbing against the leather through the thin membrane... Her thumb stroked the swollen bundle of nerves above... feverishly. Her free hand moved across her breasts, massaging the flesh and pinching the taut nipples. Her mouth and tongue ravaged the already kiss-bruised lips beneath them.

Xena was held captive by this stranger. Utterly. The scent of their passion... The complete fullness in her voids... The strength of the total abandonment...

She was a willing slave to the woman's power. And was oblivious to anything but her body's fervor need to explode. Only gasping moans and sobs escaped the warrior's lips as she tossed helplessly on the waves of pleasure.

Her eyes were hot with tears. Through a cloud of feverish passion, a strangled cry tore from her soul through her throat...


. . . . . . .

The twitching and flexing of the slender fingers still buried deep inside her brought Xena back to the present, setting a flaming wave of desire in motion.

The digits withdrew. And the small sigh that escaped her lips alerted her captor of her consciousness.

A gentle hand stroke her cheeks. Feeling the blindfold removed, she opened her eyes.

And she was met with a wicked leer. Her lips twitched.

"I got you good this time, didn't I?"

"Yeah? Well, I don't think an Amazon ambush is fair."

The Amazon Queen just chuckled and wrapped her arms tighter around the Warrior Princess... Snuggling in closer. Melding their bodies together.

"Are you ever going to unbound me?"

"Never." Came the mumble between her breasts.

"I'm glad." She whispered and relaxed into the embrace.

. . .

Daybreak came too quickly. Soon the air was filled with sounds of children carrying out the remaining rites of the festival. They ran around hanging masks and puppets in every available tree, and laughed happily swinging on swings. Those were the traditional way of purifying the soul, banishing underworld spirits, and transforming sad memories into a symbol of joyous new life.

Inside the royal hut, a much more private continuation of the rituals was carried out. If the Queen's presence was missed that day, nobody ever mentioned it.


Love is a kind of warfare. - Ovid, Ars amatoria
All's fair in love and war. - F.E. Smedley, Frank Fairlegh


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