Note:
This story was originally written to form a basis for a sexual fantasy within another story. I decided to submit it as a stand-alone. Since it was extracted from that other story, expect non-sequiturs and such. Poetic license, so to speak.
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Another world
Introduction:
On another world in our galaxy, the people have always been at war with their neighboring states. The armies consisted at one time of men; however, after many generations of war, the male population has dwindled to a small percentage of the population. Now, women are the warriors and battle each other. This has been the result of a change of mood. The battles are less about feuding and land grabs and more about entertainment, television entertainment.
The few men left are doing the 'heavy lifting' as heavy machinery operators and such; being inseminators in a male brothel; or occupying some military positions. There are no other occupations for them. This is now a matriarchal / lesbian society, perhaps with too many women; therefore, the hostility continues.
Those few men who have been chosen have gone through military training as company commanders. They are of officer rank and do not engage in the actual fighting. They are far too valuable as inseminators. The first few years of their service, they are in the rear echelons at headquarters learning newer aspects of battle and participating in the planning of logistics and television entertainment. When they have been promoted from 2nd Lieutenant to 1st Lieutenant to Subaltern, they take the command of a new company of sixty women warriors: six units of ten women each. A third of the units do not fight on the front line, but they have logistical duties and guard their encampment while other warriors are on the battlefield. A few are medics.
Each unit consists of five veterans and five rookies who learn from the veterans. Each pair of vet and rookie lives together in a tent. Until she has known battle, the rookie belongs to the vet as her bitch and services her tent-mate. After her second battle, if she survives, the girl is no longer considered a rookie and sex in her tent flows in both directions.
She has been raised as a warrior and knows no other life. She wears no makeup or is even aware of the more feminine aspects of her womanhood; she wears her hair in long, thick braids which she coils under a padded leather helmet to further protect her head in battle; in camp and in public, she wears a short, wrap around skirt tied at two corners. She wears a scarf around her neck that hangs down over her breasts.
In battle, she wears mid thigh leather boots; a leather jacket that reaches almost to the boot tops; heavy padded gloves; long padded leather cuffs on her forearms; and a leathern cape. The leather has been impregnated with chemicals to make it as hard and almost as impenetrable as a light metal.
To indicate that she is a warrior, she wears wrist, ankle and midriff straps of the same meta-leather. The wrist and ankle straps are approximately three cm's wide and the waistband is slightly more than five cm's wide. The last two cm's are raised and chemically bonded together, and a permanent locking ring is inserted through the two cm ends. The bands are not removable. She is instantly recognized in public as a warrior, looked up to, and given certain privileges. She is considered a television star that will provide entertainment in battle.
In battle, she is not that fortunate as she may be killed, badly wounded, or captured and used as her captor chooses.
The women battle each other using a two-meter wooden mace or cudgel about five cm's thick. One end of the mace is blunt; the other end is sharpened to a point and crowned with a conical overlay of bronze - a very sharp piece of bronze. Her only other weapon is a foot long knife she wears on her belt.
The battles are stylized and almost choreographed. Protocol manages almost every aspect of the fighting. They march into battle nude with the exception of their color-coded scarves designating their army, company, and unit; they are followed by horse-drawn wagons that carry their gear, rations, and other equipment. Just before reaching the battlefield, the five drovers/medics disseminate gear, which is donned prior to battle. One fourth of the company, fifteen warriors, has been left behind in case the camp is attacked. Each of the four other companies has also left fifteen warriors behind to protect the entire encampment.
A soldier from Earth would never recognize the type of warfare in which these women participate. They march in a single woman phalanx no more than a company, forty abreast, against an equal number of enemy troops. They clash one on one and fall back to the rear if there is no single combatant to engage. As a company is beaten or retires, fresh troops fill the gaps, but the front line remains a single file; there is up to a depth of ten to their battle line if there is more than a single company participating; however, only the front rank does battle.
This would seem to be more a sport than a military encounter IF there weren't wounded, unconscious and dead left on the field. These stylized battles are televised and are a major source of entertainment to the more bloodthirsty populace. The opposing armies do not have access to the broadcasts. The television broadcasts are aptly named, "War Games."
It is considered a 'foray' when a unit or company, attempts to infiltrate an enemy's encampment or meets an enemy patrol; a 'skirmish' when five to ten companies -- two to four hundred fighting women - fight; and a 'battle' if there are four thousand warriors on each side. The depth of warriors could reach one hundred if the entire armies are on the field. Only a small number are killed, but many are wounded or beaten unconscious. Then they are left until the battle is over. A very few who are still conscious and captured must decide whether to capitulate and yield or be dispatched; those that yield are taken prisoner as worker and sex slaves for the rest of their lives.
Our heroine has been indoctrinated in training to fight until she is unconscious or dead, and she has been told horror stories about what happens to captured women. She has the battlefield choice of death or capture which ends her previous life either way. She has also a third choice, but this may be the worst. She can offer up her breasts as war trophies to the woman warrior who captures her alive and conscious. She can then return home, but is then considered a pariah and given menial military tasks. She often returns to battle and allows herself to be killed. The new owner of her breasts has gained much face as a hero at her encampment -- and on TV.
If the warrior falls, dead or unconscious, her victor will open her leather jacket and plant a three cm pennant in each of the prone woman's breasts. The plastic V-shaped piece reflects the victor's army, regiment, company, unit and tent by color coding, lettering, and numbering. The lower one cm contains a barb that is not easily removed once planted.
