Savages

Carla's Story

Lisa felt a warmth in her loins when she woke up.  She wanted to rub her pussy but her hands were tied down  Someone else, however, was drawing slow circles on her pubic mound and it was driving her crazy.  She looked down and saw a pair of teenagers – one about fourteen and one about seventeen.

“Please,” she begged.  “Please stop.”  It felt wrong to be stimulated towards an orgasm by young girls, yet she was unable to contain the surge as they worked her labia and her clit.  Just as she was about to come, the older teenager said something to the younger one and the teasing stopped.  She rolled in frustration to the laughter of the girls.

“They have been told that you are not to be allowed to come,” said the familiar voice of the Brazillian.  “It is a common practice with a new slave.  Akamutha is angry because you tried to kiss her.  These people do not like being kissed on the mouth.”

A hand stroked her flat chest and teased her nipples.  Lisa huffed in arousal. 

“What is your name?  Mine is Carla.”

“I am Lisa,” breathed the blonde. 

Carla stopped stroking Lisa's breast.  Lisa squirmed from the denial.  The girls laughed and starting stroking her labia.

“Please tell them to stop,” said Lisa.  “This isn't right.”

“This is the way they learn to pleasure a woman,” said Carla.  “As a slave, you are a natural object for their practice.  You have no choice.  If they want you, you must give yourself to them..”

Lisa whimpered from the shame as the girls ran their tongues along the blossoming fan of her pussy.  Their giggles started to make her forget her nervousness and when they ceased their attentions, she asked them not to stop.

“It's a pity that they cannot understand you,” said Carla.

Tears flowed down Lisa's cheeks as the confusion of feelings overwhelmed her.  Carla drew slow circles on the captive's belly.

“How old are you?” the Brazilian asked.

“Twenty nine,” said the American.

“I am twenty five.  Perhaps we will be lovers when this is over.”

“I'm not a lesbian!” Lisa protested.

“Ah, but your body and your words are saying something quite different.  No one comes here as a lesbian, but with a little application of the tribal arts, they forget men.”

Lisa cried because she knew what Carla was saying was true.  She wanted to come and she wanted to embrace these women.  She was forgetting the men she had known and coveting homosexual sex.

“Lift your head,” said Carla.  Lisa did as she was told.  The Brazilian made her drink the tea from a clay cup as she had done many times the night before.

“Drink it all, little one,” said the Brazilian as the girls resumed stroking her pussy. 

When Lisa finished, Carla set the cup aside and kissed her on the mouth.  Electricity popped through Lisa's cunt, but Carla had the girls stop their ministrations.  Once more Lisa came to the edge and was disappointed.

“With all that we are going to do to you, you will not want to leave,” said Carla.  I suspect whatever life you lived outside is disappearing from your mind and all that you are thinking of is how you are going to get to cum.  Soon that is what you will live for and you will follow any command just to experience the next orgasm.  I know because that is what they have done to me and all the slaves here.”

Carla ran her hand up and down Lisa's thighs, watching the effect of her teasing intensifying.  She then called a halt to the stroking and lay down next to the blonde.

“I have been here for about ten years,” Carla began.  “I was living with my parents along the river.  My father ran a trading post where many native peoples – both the conquered and the still free ones – came to exchange their rubber for various goods.

“The women of this village were no exception.  They gathered rubber and Brazil nuts and brought them to him.  They liked things like knives, steel arrowheads,  and cooking pans.  He also gave them tobacco and candy bars when he needed to make change.

“One day I heard him talking to a trading party.  I came out into the store front and they stopped their bickering and just stared at me.  I was shy in those days – I was barely no longer a girl.  I buttoned my dress to the top and went back in the back. 

“I heard him say to them in their own language 'You must bring me twice as much as this and we will have a deal.'  I had no idea what he was trading, but I didn't think it was rubber.  Whatever they were bringing and whatever he was offering was precious.  A gun with ammunition?  I thought it was something like that.

“Later, I heard him and my mother arguing.  'You can't do this, Jose' she was saying to him.  'Don't worry, my love.  There is not enough gold in the jungle to buy her.”  Was he selling one of our cows?  I went to bed, curious and yet undisturbed.

“Several months passed before they came again.  I heard them come inside and went up front to see what they had brought.  He was standing at the counter looking at the largest lump of gold I had ever seen.  Several smaller nuggets surrounded it.  My father just shook his head in wonder.

“'You must keep our bargain,' the leader of the party said to him. 

“My father looked at me and sighed deeply.  'Carlita,' he said.  'Pack a few things.  You are going with these women.'

“I was a dutiful daughter and I did what he told me to do.  I put a few things in a white suitcase – enough for a few days – and came downstairs.  The women were eating candy bars when I made my appearance.  They stopped chewing when they saw me, young and demure, skin of the lightest mocha.  One of them took my bag for me.

“We started up a jungle trail.  For the rest of the day, we passed under the rainforest canopy, colorful birds flying about our heads.  Lizards darted from the path as we approached.  Once we saw a snake.

“I barely found it odd that they weren't carrying any goods from the trading post.

“In the evening, we stopped and made camp.  As the light of day dimmed, they took off the smocks they'd been wearing so as to be decent in the trading post and began playing jokes on each other and singing songs.  Eventually their interest turned to me.  They began pulling at my dress and poking my breasts.  I endured this until they fell asleep.

“In the middle of the night, I lit a brand from the fire and made my way back to my father's trading post.  I arrived at about mid-morning.  My mother was overjoyed to see me, my father a little sad.  We enjoyed a family meal together with my younger brothers and sisters.  We played together until about 2 in the afternoon when the trading party returned.

“My mother begged my father not to release me to them, to give them something else.  My father haggled with them for nearly two hours, but in the end, with a sigh, he turned to me and said 'Goodbye, my Carlacita.'

“My mother wept as they led me away.  Once we were out of sight of the trading post, they took my shoes and cut my skirt to shreds.  This time they bound my hands – one in front and one behind my back.  We walked back to the same campsite and then the horror began.

“They opened my suitcase.  My clothes went into their fire.  They kept only the luggage, a comb, and a mirror.  Then they ripped my dress off my back and cast it into the flames.  I blushed mightily, but they were not done.  One woman cut my bra and my panties off with a knife.  As I stood there naked, they passed me from woman to woman, playing with my pussy and my tits.

“Dawn broke late after a tormented night and they marched me in the middle of the party.  Though they were topless, I felt naked for the first time in my life.  When they stopped for lunch, one of the women tangled her fingers in my bush and pulled.  I cried from the pain.  The whole party of women laughed at my whimpering.  They chased me all afternoon through the jungle, slapping my ass and my back, until we came to the river where we crossed by means of some canoes they had hidden in the jungle. 

“I was brought to the village.  Because I was already naked, they fed me the tea and then passed me from suitor to suitor.  I must have serviced thirty or more lovers including a pair of girls my age who were losing their virginity. One of these was so excited that she took me to her bed and played with me all night.

“We became close, she and I.  I lost all shame and was constantly aroused.  Soon they trusted me to swim in the river under supervision.  While I was drying off, she would lie in the grass next to me, drawing slow circles in my bush until I begged her to let me come.”

”Her name was Akamuthra and when she rose to become war chief, my stature rose as well.

Carla reached her hand to Lisa's bush and slowly stroked it.

“A few years ago, I heard that another tribe had destroyed my father's trading post.  They killed my father, my mother, and my two eldest brothers, and took my youngest brother and my two sisters as slaves.

“When I heard the news, I felt nothing.  I wondered only if my sisters would find their way to this village and become, like me, slaves.”

Carla's tongue stuck out of her mouth and slowly licked one of Lisa's aureoles.  Lisa squirmed at her touch and begged her to stop.

“I am your superior, your master,” the Brazilian said. “It is my job to torment you like this, to make sure that you work for one thing and only one thing:  orgasm.  Your life is no longer fair.  Your life is seeking, wanting.  I don't know what you were in the outside world --”

“A professor,” gasped Lisa.

“You are less than that.  You are slave to the slave.”

Tears flowed from Lisa's eyes.  She despaired that she would never see her comfortable home, her department, her laboratory.  What was her life to be?  She was naked in a village of lesbians, a life she would never have chosen. Could she fight the arousal that was growing more and more intense.  She tried, but she found her hips rising to Carla's fingers.  She wanted them inside of her, she wanted to end this torment.

Akamuthra stood by her side, bent over, and pinched one of her nipples.  The war chief spoke to Carla who sweetly asked “What do you want more than anything else?”

Lisa sobbed the answer “I want to come!”

“Then you shall,” said Carla as she intensified the strokes.  The professor merged with the rhythm, moving her pussy in time with the circles that Carla drew in her bush, and suddenly screamed out her love – for Carla, for the village, for the new state of life in which she was living.