Savages

F/f, F+/f, F+/f+, exhibition, incest, interracial, teen, D/s, slavery, bondage, slow, reluctant, consensual, forced, mc, nc, Serious

Ambush

The Rio Rojo belied its name. The broad, deep stream that flowed past the campsite was a muddy green – verde.  Lisa stood on its banks for a few minutes, her arms akimbo, as she watched some ducks swimming and diving on the far side of the river.  She smiled at their antics, then went inside a blue dome tent to have a little privacy before the sun went down.

She zipped open her shorts and examined her venus mons.  A fine, blondish stubble pierced her skin, so she decided that it was time to clean things up.  Just because she was in the jungle didn't mean that she neglected her personal hygiene.  A package of cheap disposable razors provided her with the second blade she would use on this trip. 

Her finger moved slowly over the rim of her vagina, giving her a slight thrill.  The blade passed over her pubic region, cleaning the delta that flowed off her stomach and down past her legs.  When she had finished with shaving this, she shaved carefully around her clitoris and then down into the valley that linked her vagina to her ass.

This task done, she pulled up her panties, buttoned and zipped her jeans.  Despite the heat, she wore beige long pants and a long sleeved shirt to keep the bugs from biting her white girl flesh.  She applied insect repellent to her hands, neck, and face before emerging to talk with her cohorts around the fire that Dr. Carter had just set for cooking and smoking out the airborne pests.

Dr. Carter smiled at her.  “Six days in,” he began.  “How is it going for you.”

“I seem to have found four or five species that were new to me,” Lisa replied.

“Maybe some of them will prove to be new to Science,” said the fortyish entomologist.  “I've been a bit busy with my net.  These butterflies are nothing special, but maybe I will find something upriver.”

They stared at the fire for several minutes before Lisa spoke again.  “What of the native people who live where we are going?”

“Not much is known about them,” said Dr. Carter.  “They are your classic Amazonian tribe which prefers little or no contact.  It's highly probable that they will leave us alone.”

As civilization pushed at the edges of the Amazonian jungle, tribes retreated deeper inward so they could continue lives of nakedness and freedom.  Lisa thought back to the movie The Emerald Forest which she had seen as an undergraduate.  The prettiness of the blonde boy made part of a magical people of the forest made her a bit dreamy.  She stirred in her seat, rubbing her private parts with her thigh in the most subtle manner she could manage.

“The guides tell me that we will reach the fork of the river tomorrow and begin our padding into uncharted territory,” said Dr. Carter.  He stroked the beard that he'd been letting grow for about a week.  “We'll find a place upriver where we can set up a more permanent camp where we'll not bother the locals and begin our collecting.”

“That would be good,” said Lisa, who was eager to photograph some of the flowers she'd spotted along the way.  Carter had his specimen bottles and she had her blotters.  They would return from this trip with at least one new specimen.  The thought disappeared as she once more remembered the movie and  dreamed of being one of the captives of the men of the forest.  

Her hands found her sex after everyone went to sleep.  By morning, she had banished the lustful thoughts, packed her gear into her canoe, and joined Dr. Carter and the four men from downriver who would serve as their porters and assistants.

The river had no current to speak of.  They found it easy to paddle along.  The crocodiles and gaiman that floated in the opaque green waters paid them no heed.  An occasional crack of a stick alarmed them from time to time, but they saw nothing.  When they came to the fork, they took the left arm.  A few more hours passed – hours in which they made a great deal of progress. 

At about two in the afternoon, they came to a pond covered with gigantic water lilies.  The huge pads – stretching five or six feet acros -- were surrounded by huge walls about two inches high.  Great purple flowers poked out of the water.  Lisa asked the men in her canoe to stop so she could look. 

She knew of nothing like them.  The great plants at Kew Gardens were nowhere as large as these, so she suspected that she had come across a new species.  She pressed down on one of the leaves, feeling it buoy back up at her firm touch.  The moment called for a few notes, a photograph, and a sketch.

“See any bugs there?” Carter asked jovially.

“No, just the lily pads.  There might be something underneath them if you care to look, though.”

Carter and his men maneuvered the boat towards one of the purple-streaked pads.  As he got out a collecting net for water beetles, he heard a thunk as an arrow broke open the chest of one of the guides.  A second one took down the man in the front of the canoe.  “Lisa!” he cried “Get out of here!”  Then the last thing he heard was an arrow thundering through his rib cage.  He fell into the river.

Lisa ordered her two paddlers to turn the boat around as dugout canoes appeared both upstream and downstream.  An arrow whizzed past her, taking out the rear guide.  The first tried to leap into the river, but was hit in the shoulder.  “At least he is safe,” she thought as he began to swim away.  The man's strokes, however, became more erratic as he swam to shore and eventually he sank into the river.

“Poison,” she realized, as she froze in the canoe

Lisa didn't know why she didn't jump with the rest or why the archers didn't pick her out.  As the tribespeople grew closer, she realized that they were all women. Each had a painted mask across her eyes.  Their breasts were colored ochre on the left side and vermillon on the right.

They drew closer.  When they were within arm's reach, two of them clamored over the sides and got in the canoe.  They fished the paddles out of the river and began moving the boat upstream.  Other women took over the other boat. 

The botanist thought about jumping, but there were caiman and crocodiles about. The women took her upstream, out of the pond, leaving the corpses of the men floating among the lily pads.

The women in the canoes were grinning at her.  One of them licked her lips as she looked Lisa in the eyes.  An uncomfortable feeling came over the white woman as to their intentions. 

After about an hour, they arrived at a trailhead leading into the river.  The amazons dragged the canoes ashore and hid them in the jungle, removing all the gear.  Lisa was made to march in the middle of the raiding party, towards an unknown habitation.