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Unnatural Instinct: Amazon

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In your world, women are the dominant sex. You fight, hunt and defend while the men nurture your children and keep you happy. That is until an Earth man stumbles into your camp and turns everything upside down. It is common knowledge that women are the more capable sex: powerful, ambitious, intelligent. Big and strong, you’re built to hunt and fight, while the men make good nurturers and loving partners. It has been this way for generations. On a scouting mission, you capture a man lurking around your border. He is not like the others, strangely dressed and spouting ridiculous claims that men should be treated equally with women. Nonsense, as far as you’re concerned. But when the marauding Northerners threaten your tribe, you are forced to reconsider. Perhaps the stranger is right; perhaps men are much more than what they seem. The problem is, have you realised it too late?

Fantasy / Erotica
G.M. Marks
5.0 6 reviews
Age Rating:


How the hell did I get into this mess?

Though the more important question is: How the hell am I going to get out of it?

I’m no soldier. I have no real skills—at least, not when it comes to the physical. I can’t fight. I know only a little about how to survive in the wild. The only advantage I have is that I know a lot about my captors. More than anyone else in the universe, in fact, other than the captors themselves. I guess that’s something. No. It’s more than something.

It’s everything.

I try to be brave. I try to tell myself that though I might be lacking in so many ways, I’m not unintelligent. I still have my wits. If I use my sense and knowledge wisely, I should have some kind of power. Small though it feels right now.

Again and again, I have to remind myself that all is not lost as I trip and stumble through the jungle. My captors are strong, with huge stores of stamina. Though we’ve been walking for hours they don’t tire, laughing and joking to each other as they prod me ahead with the butts of their spears.

They’re not rough but they’re not kind either.

I struggle to keep up, gasping and sweating and repeatedly pushing my glasses up my sweaty nose.

Again, I wonder how I got into this mess. It should have only taken a few minutes to fix the surveillance camera, but it didn’t. The natives shouldn’t have been wandering around that far away from camp so late at night—yet they were. The risk was low. It should have been safe to leave my ship and reveal myself—but it wasn’t.

Three years I’ve been researching the people of this planet and I’ve never been seen, much less caught. And during the one week gap when I’m alone! No one to help me. No one to know that I’m in trouble and relay a mayday to the mothership.

My research partner had caught some kind of illness and had to be evacuated home. I was told that I should leave too: I could also be sick and I shouldn’t be alone in such an unpredictable place. But I refused. There’s too much at stake. There’s too much to study. Besides, we have only six months left before the money from our investors runs out. Time is critical.

I was a stupid, arrogant fool. I should have just let the camera stay broken. I have multiple others. I could have fixed it once my partner returned. It was an unnecessary risk. I should have kept safe in my ship and continued with my research from afar. What had I been thinking?

I hadn’t been thinking.

And that’s a problem. Now more than ever, I have to think straight. Somehow, I need to get out of this predicament without ruining my research. As an anthropologist, the last thing I want to do is sully a project. Until now, these people have never encountered an outsider. I cannot let them know who I am.

It could ruin everything.

I stagger again and would have fallen if not for the woman beside me grabbing my arm and yanking me back up. Her strength is formidable. I’ve always known these women were powerful, of course, but I’ve never experienced it personally. It’s a little terrifying. My partner and I fondly refer to them as the Amazons. And never more does the Greek legend seem truer than now when I can finally see them in the flesh.

‘Thank you,’ I say, pushing my glasses back up my nose.

The woman blinks, then frowns. I wince at my mistake. Already I’ve put my foot in it! They don’t know English, you fool! I open my mouth, about to thank her in her own language, before shutting it again. Perhaps I shouldn’t reveal too much just yet.

Knowledge is power. Knowledge is key.

But it doesn’t feel particularly powerful right now as I study her from the corner of my eye. She towers over me. The muscles in her arms are much bigger than an average man’s on Earth, including mine. Her abdomen is like a cheese grater. Her thighs are enormous. Like most of the women, her dark hair is short and spiky, revealing a thick, muscular neck and broad shoulders. She’s only wearing a pair of long pants, made from the skin of the crocodinos that infest the swamps. Her bare breasts are small.

The woman on the other side of me is much the same, though she’s missing some front teeth and has a strip of scars down her right arm. With my face lowered, I do everything I can to take it all in. Though I’m in trouble, maybe even in danger, I can’t miss the opportunity to study every single detail.

I’ll never get a chance like this again.

I chance a glance over my shoulder, letting my eyes rest on you for just a brief moment—the woman who caught me. You hadn’t been gentle when you’d thrown me down and pinned me to the ground but you hadn’t been brutal either.

You’re smaller than most but no less intimidating. Like the rest, I’ve seen you before. Though you can’t know it, I know you. You’re an important figure in your tribe and one of its greatest fighters. The other women look up to you. They respect you. Some even fear you.

I look down at my wrists, gritting my teeth against how the rope burns against them. You were the one who bound me. I won’t forget your voice, the stern but gentle way you were speaking to me. You asked me questions: who I was, where I was from. I didn’t answer. I made you impatient, and yet you tried to keep me calm, telling me that everything was going to be okay as long as I did what I was told.

You looked into my eyes, then, like no woman has ever looked into my eyes, not from any of the countless images of your kind I catch on camera. Not even from the women on Earth. As I stared back, my heart slowed its terrified pounding. I could breathe easier. As a powerful figure in a matriarchal society, you had nothing to fear from me—a mere man. It’s a strange thing to think that, had I been a woman, things might have been very different. You wouldn’t have been so gentle. I would have been your equal. Your adversary.

I might be dead by now.

And yet, I can’t feel good about it. I’m no fool. I know what’s behind that gentleness, like any woman from Earth would know if they were in the same position with a man as I am with you.

I look down at my feet, keeping my eyes averted. The last thing I want is to attract ‘interest’ from any of these women, including you. It’s a strange and awkward feeling—to fear for myself in a way I’ve never feared before. It leaves a bad taste in my mouth. It makes my hands tremble.

It’s a relief that you’re not going to kill me, but what you intend to do with me may yet prove to be so much worse.

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