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.

The Village

The women brought the canoes to the side of the river after a two hour journey.  They pulled the boats out and hid them in the jungle.  A few washed the warpaint off in the river four or five at a time while the others kept a watch over the slender blonde.

They were in a forest with long vines that dangled from the trees.  One of the amazons climbed up one of the trees and cut a long rope.  It fell to the ground.  Another woman picked up it and fashioned it into  a loop which she lowered over Lisa's head and tightened so that she could not free herself.  Other women tied her hands with less stout vegetation.

Lisa wasn't sure what to make of her situation.  The tallest among them approached her and opened Lisa's shirt, running her hand over her pale, sensitive stomach.  Lisa trembled as the hand crept close to her venus mons.  The amazon smiled, her control over the scientist total.  She left the captive's shirt open and went down to the river to wash herself.

When all felt clean, they marched Lisa up a path through the jungle.  The path was worn into a long, reddish trench.  Lisa felt the amazon feel her butt whenever she stopped.  They walked for about twenty minutes before they came to a large, open-sided round house in the middle of a clearing.

The dome shaped roof covered a large area.  Hammocks stretched between strong poles.  Cages of colorful birds hung from the rafters, providing music for the occupants.

At least a hundred topless women covering their hips with trade cloth watched as the raiders brought her in. Some of the women wore their black hair long, while others – like the warriors who captured her – wore theirs in bowl cuts. A handful were completely nude and of paler color than the clothed.    A six year old sucked on the teats of a milk-laden mother.  A crone brought Lisa a cup of tea and bade her to drink it.  She found it woody but sweet.  The woman served her another cup and another.  Lisa felt her body warming as the amazons sat her down near the fire and began to go through her things.

They threw all her clothes and the papers onto the fire.  A magnifying glass proved an amusing toy for one teenager who used it to look at the skin of the professor's neck.  Lisa found this attention stimulating.  A kiss began to form on her lips that she desperately wanted to plant on the girl.  But the teenager found her camera and began looking through the lens.

A black-haired nude women came closer.  She explained in the strange tongue of the amazons the purpose of the camera.  The tall woman found this offensive, seized the camera from the teenager, and threw it to the ground repeatedly until it was smashed.  They did the same with other items that they found, but they kept Lisa's collection of razor blades and a pair of scissors for further examination.

Someone found a steel knife among Dr. Carter's things.  She crawled over to where Lisa was sitting.  The tall amazon began barking orders.  Someone cut her bonds.  The knife-bearer began with Lisa's shirt; she cut the buttons off one at a time and then sliced the sleeves so that the shirt fell off her shoulders naturally,  A hand grabbed the shirt and threw it in the fire.

“Please,” Lisa said, hoping someone would understand.  “Please don't do this to me.”

The bra was next to go.  The knife-bearer understood the construction of the garment; she cut the straps and between the two cups.  Lisa began breathing hard.  Many hands reached forward to touch her flat chest.  Her nipples became painfully hard.  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the bra flying towards the fire

Her shoes and socks came off easily and they, too, were burned with the rest. Someone gave her another cup of the tea which she drank lustily.  The cutter puzzled over her pants for a moment, then made slices up the legs to the belt line. The feeling in  Lisa's breasts and her vagina intensified.  Her clitoris hardened. The cutter removed her panties last and ran her hand over her denuded pussy.  The blonde yipped in excitement as many others touched the spot.

The black haired white woman spoke to her.  “Do you speak Portuguese?”

“Yes,” said Lisa.

“They want to know how old you are” said the black-haired woman.

“Twenty eight,” said the nude botanist.

“Why do you have the body of a little girl?”

The tall amazon curled her finger under the professor's clitoral hood.  Lisa gasped in excitement.  “I shave myself.”

The nude woman relayed her explanation to the crowd.  She pointed out the bag of razors.  The tall amazon reached over and tested one of the blades with her fingers.  Assured of her sharpness, she had the bag set aside.  Then she reinserted her finger into Lisa's hole and watched her captive's face.

Lisa jumped with ecstasy.  Her flower crept out of the slit and bloomed.  The fingers of the tall amazon became wetter and wetter as Lisa became more excited, more in bondage to her captor.  She shamefully panted in delight and became a secret garden of blind eroticism.

“That feels so good,” she said.  “Tell her not to stop.”

The tall woman nodded approvingly.  She ran her hands all over Lisa's body.  Lisa whined and struggled as the attention shifted away from her pussy.  The watching crowd laughed at her agony, urging the tall woman to keep teasing her.

The tall woman said something and the black-haired nude translated.

“She says that you belong to her and to everyone in this village.”  The amazon kept talking.  “You will be property and whenever anyone asks you to do something to pleasure them, you will obey.”

Lisa barely understood the words.  She whimpered for the hand to return to her pussy. The tall woman ignored her and took her breast into her mouth and sucked.  Lisa was helpless, the perfect thrall of the amazon.  She felt herself grow wetter and wetter as the tall woman ran her finger in and out of her cunt.  An orgasm surged through her.  The tall woman paused for a moment and plied her with another cup of the tea.

“You will never refuse this drink,” said the translator.  “You will drink it because you are a slave and this is the slave's drink.  Women are controlled by their arousal and you will remain – like me and the other slaves – aroused at all times.”

The tall woman was speaking now.  The translator listened and continued. 

“You will never wear clothing because you must be always available to anyone.  Akamutha will possess you tonight because she is the leader of the clan.  But you are never to refuse anyone who asks for your body and ministrations.”

The tall woman said more words.  The cutter came forward with the knife blade.

“You will be marked as a slave for all to see.  This mark will last the rest of your life.  It can never been removed.  All the slaves have the same mark.”  The dark-haired slave indicated a spot above her right breast where there was a scar in the shape of a bird.

“We keep birds in cages here and you, too, are a bird which we will treasure.  You will never leave this house without the company of  a warrior.  If you are found outside alone, you may be put to death and eaten at Akamutha's pleasure. Your life is not your own.”

Warriors held Lisa to the ground.  The cutter rubbed some ash onto the spot and then made four angular slices.  Lisa was marked.  The blonde American no longer an associate professor at a university.  She was chattel.

After they brought Lisa to several orgasms, they sat her down next to one of the poles and tied her arms behind her.  An older woman covered in tattoos and ritual scars brought forth a long pipe with greenish powder on the end farthest from her.  She jammed the pipe into Lisa's nose and blew hard. 

The blonde's nose caught on fire.  The powder spread from her nose into her sinuses.  She sneezed and coughed as the villagers laughed at her.  Transparent colors started to change the scene.  She was no longer in the village or human, but a free, beautiful oriole flying in the trees.  Then she swooped low and found herself caught in a net.  A gigantic hand removed her, stroking her feathers and speaking to her soothingly.  The despair she felt at being captured turned into quivering joy and she was not at all offended when the hand put her in a cage.  She began to sing, sing for the joy of captivity.  Another hand removed her from the cage and warmed her.

As the vision faded, Lisa found herself bound in a hammock.  The tall amazon was running her hands over her body.  She spoke but no one translated the words for her.  She sucked Lisa's clit until the blonde orgasmed again. 

Suddenly she turned the hammock so that Lisa was lying on her side and forced the blonde's face into her bush.  Lisa smelled the pungent saltiness of the tall woman's clitoris.  She knew her own body well enough to know where to put her tongue; she stuck it forward and searched through her mistress's black-haired jungle until she found the sensitive crevice and began to lick.

Her tongue found the tall woman's labia.  It traced the ridges on either side of the clitoris before plunging into the cunt. As Akamutha bent backwards in pleasure, another, older white woman caught her and massaged her breasts. 

Lisa ran her hands down Akamutha's arms which bore five ringed scars each.  She wanted to kiss her on the lips, suck her titties.  Her tongue corkscrewed into the chieftainess's bush, pressed past the semi-liquid walls of her cunt. 

Someone massaged Lisa's cunt.  The two women sought orgasm together.  SLisa pulled Akamutha to her, kissed her on the mouth. 

The tall amazon slapped her hard on the face and threw her to the ground.  Akamutha barked some commands.  Several women staked Lisa to the ground.  The warrior queen took the Brazillan woman to her hammock.  She left Lisa to be teased and denied until the night grew silent and Lisa's pussy throbbed like a drum beat.

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.

Chapter 4

Denise's Story

The university faded from her mind as days turned into weeks and months.  The urge controlled her, the urge to orgasm which erased all her intellectual accomplishments and yearning for recognition.  She was a slave and this satisfied her. 

There were three groups within the round house, all female.  The first were the warriors, lithe and strong females adept with a bow who wore their black hair in a mud-reddened bowl cut.  The domestics wore their hand long.  They spent most of their days in or near the round house filling out their days with gathering, cooking, and performing other domestic chores.  Lisa soon learned that they, too, could shoot an arrow and wield a club.  The only women who were not versed in these skills were those like her, the other slaves, who serviced the other women sexually. 

During the dry season into which she had first arrived, Lisa spent most of her time giving pleasure to the domestics.  Carla, she noticed, watched her intently, and sometimes cornered her to force her to give the Brazilian some cunnilingus.  When this activity was slow, she found herself lying with the other slaves.  They would masturbate each other and tell one another stories if they spoke the same language.  Lisa was surprised to find that there were a few slaves who spoke English.  The oldest of these was Denise, a sixtyish woman with fading red hair.  Lisa found herself attracted to the matron:  her skin was sun worn down to the shoulders, but below that she was soft if a little doughy.  She cut her hair to just below her ears.  The former professor learned that she had come as a little girl and had given birth to a son who lived in another village and two daughters who were also slaves.

Lisa and Denise often found themselves resting together during the late morning.  Denise would often bring Lisa to rapture and the newest captive would suckle on Denise's breasts. 

One particularly slow morning after Lisa's being had been shaken to the core by Denise's ministrations to her clitoris, the older woman stroked her to quietness and began telling Lisa the story of her life.

“I came from California, one of a pair of twin daughters of a Presbyterian minister and his wife,” she said.  “My father grew bored with the day to day routine of running a suburban parish, so he made application to the church's missionary board for a position here in Brazil.

“Both he and my mother were excellent at languages.  They both spoke Spanish and French.  Portuguese came easy to them when they set about its study.  And it was clear that they could not only learn from books, but also from native speakers.

“We were all in good health, so the board assigned us a new outpost along the Rio Rojo, just a few miles from here.  A gang of Brazilians came up river to help clear the ground and build the house, church, and school we would need to carry out God's work.  When they were finished, they wished us well and returned to their homes downstream.

“Parishioners did not appear without a little enticement.  My father strung out trade items such as knives and pots near the church.  While the men were working, he had learned a couple of the local languages from them.  So as he waited for a congregation, he translated the gospels into the native tongue.

“About six months after the men left, a few savages began appearing.  They took the gifts.  Father and mother found it odd that they were all women, but they did not reject what they thought was the gift of God.  If only women came, said my father, we will convert them and, by extension, their children.  It did not register that some carried bows and others did not, that some had short hair and others long.  He began preaching in the church every Sunday and they sat and listened while he initiated them into Christianity.

“My mother was beautiful, a tall, curvy redhead who had more than once attracted the roving eye of an adulterous member of the congregation.  I don't think she realized that she had not escaped this lust.  She did not think anything of the attention being paid to her by the women or detect any lust on their part.

“Easter Sunday fell just after the last rains of summer, in April.  The congregation sang a hymn that my father had adapted for them.  After the service, the women gathered in front of the church, looking repeatedly at my mother, my sister, and me.  My father came out wearing a white robe, raising his arms to bless them.  I did not see a signal or know how they chose the moment to strike, but the largest among them brought a club down on his head.  The others rounded the rest of us up and herded us into the jungle. 

“They made us take off our shoes, which was painful as we tripped over roots and rocks on the dark green path.  I thought this was a great adventure – I thought they had only knocked my father out.  We arrived at the village after about an hour and a half of travel.  Once there, they stripped my mother of her clothes and began exploring her pale body.

“Mother was wearing a light beige suit over a white blouse.  They pulled her skirt off first and then the jacket.  The blouse was ripped off and then her remaining clothes.  I remember sighing as her round breasts flowed out of the bra as the Amazons threw her clothing onto the fire. 

“I had never seen my mother naked before.  She was a natural redhead with the color appearing on both her head and between her legs.  As they began running their fingers through her pubic hair, I felt a twitch in the same place. 

“They stripped my sister and me, too, dispensing with my clothes in the same manner as they had my mother.  As the three of us stood naked at the center of the amazons, they took my mother aside and began massaging her pussy. 

“My mother moaned with the pleasure they were giving her.  I don't think she ever felt an orgasm with my father – at least I had not heard her going on like this in the night.  I know I have never had an orgasm with a man.  She was, I think, discovering that she was a natural lesbian and the thought scared the daylights out of her.

“Tears rolled out of her eyes and trickled down her white neck which the amazons stroked in fascination.  Her stomach heaved in rhythm with the motion of the hands inviting her to come.  Then she shuddered and cried out.  Though she would continue to resist, she knew that she had found her true nature.

“When they were finished with my mother, they ritually scarring the three of us with the sign of the bird. 

“My mother never overcame the shame.  Every day she serviced several women while my sister and I watched.  Not once did I see her lick or suck without tears.  When they rewarded her with an orgasm, the tears made her face as wet as her cunt.   Some of the women liked to lick the tears from her face which only distressed her more.

“My sister and I were too young to serve as prostitutes, but we played with the young teenagers.  A favorite game was “Catch the rabbit”.  Laura and I were the rabbits.  The other girls would chase us until they caught us and then push us down and hold us. 

“'We've caught you, Rabbit,' they would say.  'Now let's see if you have any meat on you.'  Their fingers explored our bodies, tickling our bellies, running down our as yet unbroken slits, and pinching our nipples.  I remember feeling my stomach cramping up a little in excitement but not much more.

“One day when they caught me, things went a little different.  I had started growing a little hair around my pussy.  I was fifteen or sixteen years old.

“'Oh look at the rabbit, she's getting all furry down here,” they said.  They stroked me much as one might stroke a cat or a dog.  I felt the familiar tightening of my stomach, but something more, too. 

“'Rabbit is getting wet,' they said.  They dipped their fingers into my clit and into my vagina.  I had never felt this sensation before.  As they worked their way around, I started squirming, pushing my clit towards them.

“'Our pet likes this,' they said.  'Let's see what happens when we scratch down here some more.'

“I found myself breathing harder.  My stomach undulated in rhythm with their searching of my vagina.  'Please, please.  Please don't stop.'  They laughed and held back their caresses for a moment.

“'Does Rabbit promise to be a good rabbit and do everything we say?'

“I shoved my pussy around, trying to find a hand that would renew my pleasuring. 'Yes, yes.  I will be a good rabbit.'

“The girls laughed and looked at each other.  'I think our rabbit will be a good pet.  Let's tell her the rules.'

“'First, Rabbit must always let us catch her.

“'Second, Rabbit must give us what we want in the same way we give to Rabbit.

“'Finally, Rabbit must always remember that she is our plaything.  When we call to her, she must come immediately.

“'Does Rabbit agree to this?'

“I wanted to feel where their play was taking me, to be their prisoner, their pet. So I said without hesitation 'Yes.'

“'Very good.  Now we will play with Rabbit.'

“And they did.

“They rubbed, they sucked, they poked, and they stroked.  My mind was no longer in my brain, but down between my thighs.  I arched my back upwards to get closer to them.  One of them dipped her finger in my sex and let me lick it.  That was the first time I had tasted any woman and I liked the flavor.  Suddenly I lifted my butt from the ground and felt the pleasure burn through me.  The girls who realized my sexual awakening chattered excitedly and made me come again.  After that I was their total slave;  I liked being their pet.  I would truly do anything for them.  And from that day, when these women called to me, I came, to let them explore me, to explore them, to give them pleasure, and to come.”

“I helped my sister come for the first time soon after that and made her one of my lovers.  We were teenagers and with the first appearance of hair about our pussies, we were trained in the sexual arts. 

“One day we saw our mother napping.  The paleness of her skin and her flame-colored hair excited us.  Laura got some binding and together we tied her up.  She woke when she tried to turn over. 

“'Mommy is so pretty that we just can't keep our hands away from her pretty body.'

“'Please girls,' she wept.  'Please don't do this to your mother.'

“'But Mommy,' we said, 'We want to make you happy.

“'This is not going to make me happy,' she said.

“'Yes it will, Mommy.'  And we began to masturbate her with Laura massaging her pussy and me sucking on her nipples.  She fought the ecstasy for as long as she could but at last it surrounded her entirely.  She came repeatedly for twenty or thirty times until we stopped.   Then she went to sleep, crying, holding us close to her.

Mama wept because she knew that she was the slave of the entire village, including her daughters.

Chapter 5

Denise's Story, continued

As morning wore off, the women of the village began selecting their sexual partners.  Some found their lovers among the free women of the village.  Others selected one of the slaves.  Denise stopped her story when one of the older women grabbed her arm and pulled her onto a grass bed.  Lisa went with a young teenager who wanted to study the stubble on her pussy before being aroused.

That night, after Lisa had been titillated by several different women including Akamutha, she lay down with her head in Denise's lap.  The elder slave teased her nipples as they fell to sleep.  When they woke the next morning, they breakfasted and drank their ration of the aphrodisiac.  Then Denise resumed.

“Being a sexual beast – especially a lesbian one – did not sit well with my mother.  In those days, they did not keep us constantly aroused.  We were all slow to be stimulated, slow to arouse.  So Mom's head was clear when she made her plan.

“One night she woke us up.  'I am leaving for a while, my dears.  Do not worry for me.  I will be back for you with plenty of help.'  She extricated herself from our arms and kissed us on our foreheads.  'Look out for one another and resist temptation.'  Then she disappeared into the night beyond the lodge house.

“Two days later, they brought her back.  They forced her to kneel, her face touching the ground.  Then one of the women brought in a switch and started beating her with it.  One, two, three.... I lost count after twelve.  But it excited me and I masturbated with increasing intensity. 

“Mother, to her shame, found it very stimulating.  They stopped when she found herself in a paroxysm of orgasm.  Her breath grew profoundly hard.  Her nipples stuck out and juice dribbled down her thighs.  A woman who checked her red pubic hair found her so wet  her hand gleamed from the juice.  The whole assembly laughed and talked about doing it more often to her.  Mother cried and cried, not so much from the pain as from the embarrassment. 

“They gave her to my sister and me.  We salved her wounds for the relief and tweaked her tiny nipples and tickled her pussy for the fun of it.  'Girls, please--' she said, but we ignored her begging.  She was no longer our mother, but our pet.  And when she was better, we gave her to the village to tease and arouse.

“The next time she tried to flee, she didn't tell us.  This time she was gone for a week.  They applied the same punishment.

“The leaders talked about her repeated running away and decided that her mind was too clear.  That was when they decided to make us all drink the tea.  The aphrodisiac had been known to them for a long time, but they only used it to enhance their own sexual experiences.  Most knew that they could think of nothing else while under its power, so they reasoned that it would interfere with my mother's ability to plan her escapes.  Three times a day, they force fed the liquor to us.  Three times a day, my mother found herself unable to think about anything except her own sexual release.  The experiment was a success.

“One slave who had already been drinking the aphrodisiac was Jennifer or Jay-naw-far as they called her, an anthropologist.  News of the unique tribe had reached her while she was doing fieldwork nearby.  Being of the persuasion herself, she was eager to observe the amazons and participate in their life.  They stripped her as soon as she arrived, which she did not mind.  Even life as a slave suited her, so much that she decided to stay. 

“Jennifer took a liking to me and made me her pet.  We would lie beneath the thatch roof with her feeding me the tea and gently stroking my then sparse pubic hairs.  I was easy to seduce.  She would run her hands over my flat chest while I whimpered my love for her. 

“My lover took control of me in a way that no normal American teenager got to experience.  She would take me from sexual partner to sexual partner, arousing me to a fever and then leaving me to be ravished and to ravish in return.

“'Don't you love this,' she'd say to me.  'All the worry and the duress of having to make decisions are off your sweet, milky shoulders.  Just let me guide you, choose when you eat, choose when you sleep, choose when you pee.  Isn't that a relief?  This is what being a slave is all about.  How fortunate it was that you were found by the People?  How lucky you are to have me as a guide and mentor.'

“We remained lovers until her death. 

“My sister Laura, also found a lover, one of three nuns who had been captured when they attempted to found a contemplative convent in the jungle.  The amazons assumed that they were lesbians, too.  And maybe they tasted one another from time to time. They, too, received the bird scar, and they, too, idled nakedly like harem slaves, which they were very much like.

“Sister Elena fondled my sister much as Jennifer stroked me.  Oh, one could hear Laura moan and turn from the other side of the Big House. 

“Mother took to watching us.  She took no lover, no teen to give her something for play. 

“She still wanted to escape her circumstances, but I think she gave up all hope of ever returning to civilization.  So she found another way out.

“One day she said to me, 'I have lost you and your sister.'  The amazons had a need for new recruits.  One way was to capture invaders such as the nuns, the anthropologist, and us.  Such prisoners were turned into slaves.  Another was to accept women who had wandered in from other tribes, out of curiosity or a fire in their loins that their husbands could not cure.  The last way was to give birth and raise their own daughters as lesbians.

“No one had to stay with the tribe.  The amazons had treaties with the other tribes in the area whereby they would loan or trade their women to be impregnated.   If a visitor gave birth to a son, she had to remain and suffer intercourse with a male again and again.  If she gave birth to a daughter, she could choose to return or stay as it gave her pleasure.   The rocking in and out of a man's penis bored most, so they returned home after they met the requirement.

“My mother asked to be sent over in this capacity.  The last I remember of her is watching her white butt swinging back and forth as she started down the trail with her guards.  I heard that she gave birth to two sons.  I met one of these when he sired a daughter by one of my offspring.  The People were very concerned about incest among their own, but they consciously bred us slaves for features like white skin and red hair – much like you would breed rabbits or cats.”

Denise stopped there and went to service one of the older women.  Lisa lay on her back, her eyes shut, until a hand pulled her up.  The woman who owned the hand then stood behind her, toying with her nipples with one hand and exploring her hairless pussy with the other. 

“Little Girl,” said Carla.  “You are making me jealous.  How can you give your time to a hag like Rabbit and ignore me?”

Lisa squirmed, but the pleasure that was growing in her body made it hard for her to break the Brazilian's grip.

“I'm not a little girl,” said Lisa.

“Oh,” said Carla, pulling on one of her titties.  “You are.  Where are your breasts and where is your pussy hair?  Little Girl, let me be your mommy and let me make you happy.  Don't you like what I am doing to you?”

Lisa felt a finger enter her vagina.  It twirled around, making her shake as Carla began kissing her neck and then her lips.

“Yes,” said Lisa.  “Don't stop.”

“Oh, I don't intend to.  And soon, you will be my pet among the slaves.  You will come to me for company.  That old rabbit will be soon out of the way.”

The former professor hyperventilated.  What did Carla mean?  It was hard to think about that subject as she came under the Brazilian's control  It did not matter at the moment what kind of relationship she had with Rabbit.  What mattered was that Carla was bringing her to orgasm and she wanted to be nowhere else.

Savages

Chapter 6

The Feast

The amazons allowed the slaves to bath in the river, in a safe area where the crocodiles did not lurk.  Lisa stood up to her hips, the river lapping at her pussy as she rubbed the dirt off her body.  She appreciated these weekly breaks.  The water felt good.  She bowed to wet her hair and washed what she could of the grease from it.

When she dunked her head a second time, she came up to notice Akamutha watching her intently.  The tall amazon had her arm around Carla, but her attention was not on her favorite but on Lisa.  The ex-botanist blushed and felt a flush of warmth in her pussy.  Akamutha smiled slyly at her and stuck her tongue out ever so slightly in her direction.  Lisa's tits swelled.  Carla was oblivious to the tall amazon chieftainess's attentions and splashed some water on her pussy.  Lisa waded a little way with her back turned to the couple to splash her pubic mound with a little more water.  When she turned to look again, Akamutha smiled and winked at her.  The blonde felt a rush of feeling and a sense that she would be possessed.

Akamutha chose her as a lover at least once a week.  In the beginning, she had difficulty understanding what the warrior wanted of her, but as she learned the language, she was able to underestand her and pleasure her as she wanted to be pleasured.  Akamutha even experimented with kissing, an exchange of sensation that she was growing to like.  Lisa found that the amazon spent a lot of time arousing her slave lovers when she had had her own orgasm.  The shaved blonde closed her eyes and remembered the delight of her helplessness and her submission.

Akamutha whispered something to Carla, never betraying her interest in Lisa to her favorite.  The Brazilian stood up and clapped her hands, signaling that it was time to come out of the water.

“Line up on the beach,” the senior slave said.  The slaves did as she asked.

“It has been a long time since we had a feast,” said the naked slave girl.  She walked down the line of slaves, sometimes touching their nipples or their pussies, smiling as she did.  “So I must choose one of you for the honor.”

Lisa didn't know what was going on, but she noticed that her fellow prisoners shivered as Carla ran her finger across the navels of each.

“I know whoever I pick will satisfy the village's hunger this season.”  She paused in front of Lisa who was beginning to realize what the “honor” of being chosen entailed.  Carla lingered in front of her, smiling, as the blonde began to shake in fear.

Carla leaned forward and whispered into her ear.  “Don't worry, Little Girl, you will not be the main course for many, many years.”  She chuckled slightly, then moved down the line to Denise.

“Hello, Rabbit.”

“Hello, Carla,” said Denise.

“I like eating rabbit,” Carla said as the other slaves stood silent.  “Will you be tender and tasty for me?”

The older redhead bowed her head.  “I guess I can only do my best,” she said.

“I have been looking forward to this for the longest time, Rabbit.  I remember how delicious your sister was.  I hope you taste the same.”

Denise sighed and hung her head.  Lisa hoped her lover would run into the forest and elude capture, but wouldn't that mean they would choose someone else for dinner?

The older slave looked at Lisa.  “We all go like this eventually, lover,” she said.  “I saw Jennifer be eaten, two of the nuns, and my own sister.  I knew my time was coming, I just did not know when the hunger would overwhelm the villagers.”

Two of the warriors grabbed each of Denise's arms and took her away.  The other slaves were silent.  The only sound was the vague murmur of the river.

“Take them back to the Big House,” ordered Akamutha.  “Paint their bodies, give them the drink, and then seat them so that they can watch their sister's sacrifice.”

The slaves walked back to the village, surrounded by the guards.  They were made to sit down near the fire where the old women of the village washed the mud from their legs and painted birds all over their bodies.  While they worked at this, the warriors prepared Denise.  First, they stood her up and cut the hair off her head with their trade knives.  Then they took a couple of Lisa's razors and removed the remainder of the hair from her head, her armpits, and her pussy.  Denise trembled even though her body betrayed utter resignation to her fate.  One of the older domestics brought out a broth of bird and slathered it over the slave's body.  Then the cooks bound her hand and foot and hung her upside down from the rafters of the Big House.

Tears betrayed Denise's fear.  The domestics basted her again.  Then one of the warriors took out her knife and slashed Lisa's lover's throat. 

She bled like any animal being slaughtered.  At first she choked and struggled, but quieted down as she grew paler.  A pair of the warriors opened her stomach and and drew out her organs.  Then they cut her down, ran a spit through her cunt up through her mouth, and mounted the spit on a support over the communal fire.

Lisa cried as she witnessed this.  All the slaves were forced to watch and ponder their futures as a meal for the village.  Carla sneaked up behind Lisa and tickled her nipples. 

“Stop that!” Lisa cried.

“Oh, lover, Denise is gone now,” said the evil minded head of the slaves.  “You are my lover now.  I won't be sacrificed for a long time.”  She bent down and kissed Lisa's neck.  Despite her repulsion, Lisa felt a shiver of erotic calling throughout her body.

It took several hours for Denise to roast.  When she was finished, the warriors cut pieces off her corpse and passed them around.  The slaves were served last of all.  Lisa discovered she could not refuse and tried to swallow without chewing.  But the sweet flavor of Denise remained on her tongue, a last gift to a friend.  She was horrified to realize that she enjoyed the taste of the meat and wanted more.

“Goodbye, Denise”, she whispered.  “You were delicious.”