Barbarian Seraglio: Battle of Queens
by Ronin

Malika, the queen of Nubia, resembled an ebon goddess. Her face was a perfect oval, with the delicacy of Aphrodite. Her body was strong and zaftig. She had become queen after defeating her sister in hand-to-hand combat. Now, Nubia was allied with Azzaterra. This suited Malika just fine, for the king of Azzaterra was the handsome and formidable barbarian Drogan.
It was Malika's intention to make Drogan her consort. Unfortunately, Drogan already had a wife. She was the beauteous, blonde Ulrica of the far north. Twice she had faced rivals for her liege's affections. Each time, she had emerged victorious. Malika, though, saw no barrier to her ambition. She had been raised and trained as a warrior. Ulrica's opponents had merely been slave girls.
Malika announced her intention to marry Drogan. She declared Ulrica unfit to be the mate of so mighty a king as Drogan. This enraged the northern siren. She challenged to a fight to the death. Malika accepted with a pleasure that was almost rapturous.
Now, the two women faced each other in a small arena. There was not much room to run. The audience was made up of a small selection of court nobles. Except for leather straps wrapped around their hands, both queens were naked. Both were justly proud of their bodies. Malika's shoulders were slightly wider. Ulrica's chest was slightly larger. The blonde glared at her dark rival with undiluted hatred. The Nubian charmer smiled back with unconcealed contempt.
As if to emphasize that contempt, Malika struck first, slapping Ulrica across the face with an open hand. The sound was loud in such an enclosed space. If Ulrica had been angry before, she was now livid. She threw a right at the black goddess' head. Malika deftly blocked it, sinkking her right into Ulrica's belly. The northern belle grimaced, trying not to show the shock she felt. Malika punched the blonde rapidly in both breasts. The spectators heard the proud queen groan as her rival boxed her boobs. Ulrica was in trouble and the fight was just beginning. The flaxen haired siren knew she had to strike back. Summoning all her strength, she kicked her enemy in the chest. The results were dramatic. Malika wailed in pain. The blonde beauty followed up with a straight right to the black amazon's breast. Malika grimaced. The northern valkyrie began to body punch her rival with right hooks and left
crosses.
Now it was the Nubian goddess who was in trouble. She was being driven backwards. Soon, her back was to the wall. Ulrica kept up the pressure, treating her rival's fulsome body as if it were a heavy punching bag. Then suddenly, Malika caught her opponent with an uppercut to the chin. The fair-haired queen abruptly felt her legs turn to water, and she was on her knees. Malika stood over her rival and smiled down.
"I knew you were weaker than I." said the queen, "Now you will know the taste of defeat. "

Malika took a step back. She ripped a right cross to the golden haired queen's jaw. Ulrica's body went limp. She began to slide down the wall, but her rival held her upright. Ulrica tried to rally, desperately throwing punches. None of them landed. Malika uncoiled a right to the blonde's solar plexus. This time, the blonde was allowed to go to her knees. The dark queen looked down at her rival, a contemptuous smile forming on her full lips.
"That is where you belong. " said the dark queen, "At my feet! "
Grabbing a handful of damp, blonde hair, the proud, dark queen pulled her opponent to her feet. Ulrica was in a daze. She was used to fighting girls smaller than herself. She had never been confronted with a woman of equal size before, and it showed. > The proud blonde belle was already groggy, The dark queen began to fondle and kiss her dazed opponent. She pressed her unbruised breasts into Ulrica's battered pair. > Drogan was aroused. He called for a rest period. The blonde beauty was grateful for the break. She sat on her stool as her attendants desperately tried to revive her. Malika stood before the stricken valkyrie, taunting her.
"How can a weakling like you ever expect to keep a man like Drogan?" she asked. > Contempt dripped from her dulcet voice like poisoned honey.
Ulrica's eyes began to fill with tears. She knew she was losing. Soon, all she cherished would be ripped away from her. Malika was standing, anxious for the bout to resume. She was throwing kisses at the king. Soon, he would be her king. Drogan signaled for the fight to begin again. Ulrica was struggling to her feet when her rival clouted her with a right cross that sent the golden haired queen, tits first, into the sand. There she lie motionless. Malika stood proudly astride her fallen foe. Her magnificent body gleamed in the torchlight. She looked down at Ulrica, smiling; and in a show of strength, she picked up her vanquished rival, lifting her onto her shoulders, and carried her to where Drogan was sitting. There, she dumped the blonde's unconscious body at his feet.
"You are seeking a wife to bear you strong sons. " quoth Malika, "I am that woman, not this weakling. " She nudged Ulrica with her bare foot. She sat upon Drogan's lap, and they began to kiss deeply.
Ulrica's eyes slowly. On seeing her rival embracing her king, she wept.
Malika smiled. "Let's take my new slave to our bedchamber. " she suggested. All that night, the castle was filled with Ulrica's sobs.