The Head of Angus the Arrogant
He should have quit BEFORE he was ahead.
I am the head of Angus the Arrogant. I am just one of the dozens of heads of once mighty male Barbarian warriors that have been placed in the great plaza that is in the center of Themiscrya, the capital city of the Amazon Empire. I am just one of over a thousand heads that have been arranged in neat columns and rows upon the massive cobblestone plaza. For it is the custom of Orithia, the Queen of the Amazons, to inspect the heads of the men that she and her warrior women have slain upon the field of battle.
Just like all of the other heads that are here in the plaza, the dust and the dirt and the blood and sweat of the battle field has been carefully washed from my matted hair and beard by a male slave. Just like the others, I have been perfumed and embalmed. And like the other heads, I have been impaled upon the six inch spike that is in the center of a ten inch square and one inch thick display board.
I had been a mighty Warlord who had ruled over thousands of acres of land. I had possessed a massive fortune of gold, and diamonds, and sapphires, and emeralds, and rubies, and all manner of precious stones. The one hundred of my mightiest warriors had served me as my elite personal guard. And there were over three hundred beautiful slave girls in my seraglio. But I was not satisfied. For the fact that the land to the south was ruled by women was an affront to my MANHOOD and a threat to my MALE EGO.
And so I had great plans of destroying the great Amazon city of Themiscrya. I was going to conquer the Gynarchy of Amazonia and I was going to establish MALE SUPREMACY as the law of the land. As the hosts of the Amazon army came forth to meet my invasion force upon the field of battle, I was confidant of a quick and easy victory. My Barbarian warriors out numbered these uppity little women by a nearly ten to one ratio. And each of my men was far taller and heavier and much stronger than any female opponent that he might encounter upon the field of battle. But most of all, I believed that I had the advantage of being a member of the superior male sex. My faith in the superiority of the male over the female was absolute. My men and I seemed to have every advantage over Queen Orithia and her Amazons.
But the women of Amazonia had fought with a ferocity that was beyond anything that I could have imagined. They had fought with great cunning, and with a fierce courage and determination. And when this battle of the sexes was over, my entire army of over a thousand men lay in a massive heap upon the field of battle.
Our lofty plans of destroying the great Amazon city of Themiscrya had been crushed beneath the dainty bare feet of these vastly superior warrior women. Our hopes of establishing male supremacy as the law of the land had been dashed. Our humiliating defeat at the hands of the so called weaker sex was complete. The outcome of the battle between the sexes has been decisive. The total dominance of the female over the male has been established. The victory of the Amazons over the Barbarians had been total. Each of the triumphant Amazons had placed her foot upon one of our broad muscular chests, and she had raised her double edged war ax high in the air in token of victory. And Orithia, the Queen of the Amazons, had lead them in an exalted paean of victory to the great Goddess Artemis.
The use of makeup makes my cold dead face look much as it did when I was alive. Except that the expression of terror, and of pain, and of humiliation, and of shocked disbelief that was frozen on my face when I was slain upon the field of battle by a woman has been skillfully preserved by the makeup artist. Also in obedience to his Mistress, the slave had carefully preserved and even highlighted the blackish purple bruise that is in the center of my face. This bruise is in the perfect shape of a dainty female footprint.
This is the mark that she had made on my face just a split second after she had parried the stroke of my sword with her war ax, and after she had kicked me in the nuts. This is the mark that she had left when her bare foot had slammed into my face with bone crushing force. This is the footprint that she had left deeply embedded in my face when she had kicked me in the face with such force that my neck was broken''' As I lay paralyzed upon my back, unable to move a muscle, she had pulled away my loin cloth and she had CASTRATED me with her dagger. She sat upon my chest and she cruelly held my severed testicles before my horrified eyes for me to see. I could see that my nuts were swollen to the size of apples from the savage kick that she had given them. She stuffed my testicles into my gapping mouth, and then she got to her feet. There was an arrogant expression of gloating triumph on her stunningly beautiful face as she had placed her foot upon my chest, and she had looked imperiously down upon me as I had gagged and choked on my own testicles.
But the triumphant Amazon had not long to gloat in her victory over me before two of my mightiest warriors, Thorfel and Ragnar, had set upon her. These two men were intent on avenging my death. By the time that the battle of the sexes was over, I was quite dead. I had been strangled by my own severed testicles.
And when the battle was over, the warrior woman who slew me, had planted her foot firmly upon my massive chest and she had struck off my head with just one deft stroke of her ax. Though I was dead, I could still hear the wild cheering of the triumphant Amazon women as she stood with her foot upon the chest of my headless carcass, and she had held my severed head high in the air for all to see. Then each Amazon had placed her foot upon the chest of one of the many men that she had slain. Queen Orithia, who had also planted her foot upon the chest of one of her many kills, had lead her triumphant warrior women in an exalted paean of victory to Artemis, the great war Goddess of the Amazons. This paean of victory had been magnificent in it's savage beauty and power as it sang of the superiority of woman over man and of the glory of her triumph over him in the age old battle of the sexes. And though I was dead, I knew that these were not just meaningless empty words that the triumphant Amazons were chanting. For she who slew me now stood triumphant over me with her foot placed firmly upon the massive chest of my headless carcass, and she held my severed head high in the air as she had chanted these words. And each of her sister Amazons had stood triumphant with her foot upon the chest of one of my men as she had chanted these glorious words.
Even though I am dead, I can still see what ever is before my glazed dead eyes. I can still hear all that is taking place within the great plaza of Themiscrya. I can still hear the sound of joyous female voices as they talk of their crushing victory over me and my men upon the field of battle. Though I am now dead, I still smell the foul stench of my own severed testicles that are still stuffed in my mouth. And I still have that horrible foul taste of those testicles in my mouth. Though I am quite dead, I am still aware of the fact that the severed heads of two of my mightiest warriors, Thorfel and Ragnar, are impaled upon the spikes of a display board just to the left of me. And I know that these two men had both been slain in fair combat upon the field of battle by the very same woman who slew me.
Though I am dead, and embalmed, and impaled upon the six inch spike of a display board, my brain yet burns with the stinging humiliation of having been bested in fair combat upon the field of battle by a member of the so called 'weaker' female sex. I had been conquered by she who had stood barely as high as my chest. I had been slain by she who was barely half my weight. And my head had been taken as a trophy by she who had not even a third of my years of experience as a warrior''. Just like all of the other men who's severed heads are impaled upon the spike of a display board, I have a neat little hole punched through my right ear lobe. Tied to my ear lobe with a thin silken cord is a small parchment tag. And written upon this parchment tag with the finest dainty penwomanship are the following words:
“This is the head of the once mighty warlord, Angus the Arrogant, who had been the champion of the cause of male supremacy and he who had been the leader of the hoards of brutal men who had sought to force the proud and free women of the Amazon Nation to wear the chains of male dominance and oppression. It was upon the one hundred and eighty third day of the two hundred and thirty seventh year after the great city of Themiscrya was founded by Lysippi, the first Queen of the Amazons, that Angus the Arrogant was slain by the hand of the mighty heroine, Androdamia the Amazon. The heroine, Androdamia slew this brutal tyrant in defense of her beloved homeland of Amazonia. Angus the Arrogant was just one of the fifteen men that Androdamia, who's name means Subduer of Men, slew this day in fair combat upon the field of battle.”
Although my eyes are glazed over in death, I still see the trim shapely ankles of she who now stands before me. I see those beautiful high arched feet that have trampled so arrogantly upon the necks of once mighty Kings and Warlords. I see the magnificently sculptured toes who's nails have been well polished by the tongues of her vanquished male enemies. I realize that it is none other than Queen Orithia herself who now stands before me as she inspects the severed head of yet another once arrogant male who had been so foolish as to have opposed the fierce warrior women of Amazonia upon the field of battle.
'So this is the mighty Warlord, Angus the Arrogant!', Queen Orithia proclaims. There is a tone of smug superiority and of gloating triumph in her voice as she speaks to the woman who is standing behind me. 'He doesn't look so tough now, does he?' Her comment is greeted by a chorus of female laughter. The woman who is standing behind me is of coarse she who slew me, Androdamia, who's name means Subduer of Men. Orithia, the Queen of the Amazons, prods my face contemptuously with the toe of her bare foot. She presses my lower lip down with her big toe, exposing my lower teeth. Now her toe pushes upwards on my upper lip and she no doubt takes note of the fact that my severed testicles are still stuffed in my mouth, indicating that I had been a known rapist. The Amazon Queen places the ball of her foot on my forehead, and she tips me over on my back.
I can now see that Queen Orithia is looking down upon me with an expression of smug superiority on her beautiful face. She is examining the bruise that is in the shape of that dainty female footprint that is embedded in my face. 'You sure kicked the living shit out of this bastard!', she says to the woman who slew me. 'You must have a kick like a horse!' Once again the chorus of derisive female laughter rings in my ears.
Queen Orithia presses her bare foot in my face and she compares her own foot to the footprint that is embedded there. I can feel that her foot in nearly identical in size and shape to the footprint in my cold dead face. At last the Queen curls her toes around the front edge of my display board, and she pulls me back into an erect position'''' 'Long have I looked forward to the day that the head of this brutal bastard would be impaled upon a spike at my feet!', the Queen of the Amazons proclaims. Androdamia places her foot on top of my head, and Queen Orithia places her foot upon the head of Thorfel, and the two women chat amiably for a few moments. 'Fifteen men have you slain upon the field of battle this day!', Orithia proclaims, 'Including the mighty Warlord, Angus the Arrogant himself! Androdamia, you are truly a great heroine of the Amazon nation!' The Amazon women in the plaza respond to the Queen's proclamation with a rousing cheer for their sister Amazon and heroine, Androdamia, the Subduer of Men. 'I am happy if I was able to be of service to my beloved homeland of Amazonia and to the cause of female supremacy over the male.', the triumphant Amazon replies modestly'
'In reward for your heroism upon the field of battle, I hereby promote you to the rank of Captain of the Amazons!' Queen Orithia says to Androdamia. Once again the wild cheering of the women rings in my dead ears. 'I thank you my Queen,' Androdamia replies, 'and I swear that I shall do my best to fulfill the duties of my rank.
Orithia, the Queen of the Amazons, has yet another matter to discuss with the heroic Amazon who slew me and fourteen of my men in fair combat upon the field of battle. 'After the battle,' Orithia proclaims, 'over ten thousand talons of gold was found in the pavilion of Angus the Arrogant! Also found in the pavilion of Angus the Arrogant was five chests full to overflowing with diamonds, and emeralds, and sapphires, and rubies, and of all manner of precious stones. All of the treasure that was found in the pavilion of Angus the Arrogant is now the property of she who slew him upon the field of battle, Androdamia the Amazon!' Once again the great plaza of Themiscrya echoes with the wild cheering of the triumphant warrior women. Androdamia is now a very rich woman.
But Queen Orithia has yet one more matter to discuss with the young Amazon heroine. 'Know you,' the Queen declares, 'that the one hundred mightiest warriors of the Barbarian Empire had served as the elite personal guard of Angus the Arrogant! Of these one hundred men, all save eighteen have been slain upon the field of battle either by Androdamia, or by one of her sister Amazons! Each of these eighteen men has been stripped naked and his wrists have been firmly bound behind his back with a leather thong. And each man has sworn his oath that he will devote the remainder of his life to the principles of FEMALE SUPREMACY and that henceforth he will OBEY all members of the FEMALE sex! These eighteen men are now the slaves and the property of SHE who slew their master, Angus the Arrogant, in single combat upon the field of battle, Androdamia, the Subduer of Men! Henceforth these eighteen men will obey her at all times, and they will obey her in all things!' The Queen's proclamation is greeted with a chorus of wild cheering from the women in the plaza. 'Once again I thank you my Queen!' the victorious vixen replies, 'And know you all that these eighteen men will be put to work in hard labor to repair the damage that Angus the Arrogant and his brutal men have done to my beloved homeland of Amazonia!' The women in the great plaza of Themiscrya give she who slew me upon the field of battle a thunderous ovation.
And now the Queen of the Amazons takes her leave of Androdamia and moves on down the row of severed male heads. For there are yet the heads of many more men for her to inspect. As she moves through the rows and columns of spiked display boards, she looks down upon the severed heads of her male enemies with that same arrogant expression of smug superiority upon her stunningly beautiful face. She halts briefly before the head of each man, and she praises the woman who slew him for her valor upon the field of battle. Often she will prod a man's dead face contemptuously with her foot. Perhaps she will pry open his lips with her toe to see weather or not his severed testicles have been stuffed in his mouth to indicate that he had been a known rapist. Or she may make cruel and humiliating jokes about the man who's severed head is impaled upon a spiked board at her feet. Each of her biting comments is greeted by a chorus of derisive female laughter.
Androdamia the man slayer maintains her stance with one foot planted firmly upon my head during the remainder of the Queen's inspection of the heads of the men that she and her Amazons have slain upon the field of battle. Though the seven men who's heads are to my right, and the seven men who's heads are to my left were also slain by Androdamia upon the field of battle, it is I who's severed head serves as a hassock for this triumphant Amazon to place her foot upon. Though the heads of these other fourteen men are also the trophies of she who slew us all upon the field of battle, it is I who must endure the ultimate humiliation of bearing the weight of her foot upon my head. She cares nothing of how humiliating it is for me, who had once been a mighty Warlord, to have a woman use my head as a hassock to place her foot upon. What I think or feel counts for nothing. For she has now reduced me from the icon and the symbol of the male principle and of all that is masculine, to a mere inanimate object that is deserving of no particular respect. I am now nothing more than an inanimate object that this woman may place her foot upon without thought or caring. I am the head of Angus the Arrogant.
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