Written for Sunday Photo Fiction. As story, about an unexpected turn of events, begins after the photo.
For The Team
“At last we arrive at our destination, men,” said Colonel Stone. The former SAS special forces man’s forearms rippled with corded muscle. He stood with arms akimbo before the waterfall, blues eyes staring intensely. “We’ve braved the Amazon, the Congo, and the icy doom of the Antarctic in our quest. And now we’ve finally found it, the secret entrance to the kingdom of Amazon Women!”
“It’s about time we found women worthy of us,” said Thorsson, formerly with the Norwegian Forsvarets Spesialkommando. The 6’5″ giant gestured with arms the size of most men’s legs. Former Green Beret, Kurt Studwell said, “I’m tired of breaking skinny women. I want a strong one.” The rest of the men, each the pinnacle of physicality in their respective special forces, grinned in anticipation of the coming conquests.
“What if they aren’t interested in us?” said Fitzsimmons.
The men groaned. Of the seven, Fitzsimmons was the least liked. He was their systems tech, the best in the business, but the slightly built man lacked the imposing physique of his teammates. Most considered him too sensitive for fieldwork. All of them were convinced he was still a virgin.
“Look around you!” bellowed Colonel Stone. “We are men of action. We never ‘ask’ for anything. We are the finest in the world for strength, quickness, and intelligence.” Stone pounded his finger, think as an axe handle, into Fitzsimmons slender chest. “We’ll take what we want from the Amazons. We’ll tell them who comes with us.”
Thorsson was the first knocked unconscious. Studwell fell like a board when a stone struck his temple. Stone was the last to see his men fall before a fast-moving fist turned out his lights.
One week later.
“I feel so USED!” moaned Thorsson, gingerly probing his groin. The small room in the cavern beyond the waterfall had become their abode. Five of the seven men huddled on stone benches, nursing their wounds.
“I know,” said Studwell, applying ice to his crotch. “I’m not just a piece of meat, you know? I’ve got feelings!”
“I’ve tried 14 different killing attacks on these Amazons,” whined Kendrick. “They just laugh, and force me into ‘the position.'”
They murmured agreement. The Amazons were too fast and too powerful to overcome. They were trapped.
A scraping sound brought their heads up. A 6’6″ Amazon, the smallest of the bunch, dragged a semi-conscious Colonel Stone in by his hair. Anquira dropped Stone on his face and said, “Next!” The men all looked away. “C’mon! I got needs here,” bellowed Anquira. When no one answered, she snatched the former Spetsnatz operative, Kalishnakov, by the hair and hurled him through the air.
“Nyet! Nyet!” screamed Kalishnakov as he clawed at her arm.
“Oh stop whining. Just lay back and enjoy it,” grated Anquira as she dragged him away.
Fitzsimmons entered the stone room and with a giant grin. “Isn’t this place awesome! Gawd, these Amazons are so HOT, and they never say no!”
A 6’9″ Amazon hobbled in behind him, limping slightly. “Mr. Fitzsimmons?” she said respectfully.
Fitzsimmons turned and smiled, “Shalaara! I thought you were tired.”
She held up a placating hand. “Please, no! I just came to say Herotica was asking for some company.”
“I thought she was still sore.”
Fitzsimmons turned back to the men. “You see how lucky we are? Was one of you looking forward to the lovely Herotica? Too tired?” He grinned at the flabbergasted men. “Well, I guess it’s up to me to take one for the team!”
Each week, Alastair Forbes presents a photo as the key to imagination and the writing of flash fiction stories. What’s your story? Look here for more great fiction based upon the photo above: http://sundayphotofictioner.wordpress.com/2014/11/02/sunday-photo-fiction-november-2nd-2014/