Elizabeth's Roman Awakening Ch. 10

Labouring to keep pace with him, she implored breathlessly, "Kiss me. Oh God, kiss me deep." He had never kissed a woman in coitus; in fact he had never taken a woman other than from behind before, but he was in no position to refuse her. His lush dark lips pressed against hers and he was surprised to feel her mouth open and her tongue pushing into his mouth. The sensation was electrifying and their kiss became a slobbering, animal gesture. His excitement grew by the second; he stroked faster and faster and as he felt Elizabeth's pussy contract in ripples of orgasm, his balls tightened and pumped three or four heavy loads of virile semen into her sopping vagina. Abruptly his stroking stopped and the pace of Elizabeth's hips rocking to mate with him slowed as well. He broke the kiss, but Elizabeth raised her head up to kiss him deeply once more. Her arm wrapped around the muscular cords of his neck and she pulled him back down. They explored each other's lips and tongue as the afterglow began to take hold of them. Winston pushed up and looked at her. She could see his dark eyes navigate her features, making a circle that started with her deep eyes, then to her sweat-beaded hairline, and then finally resting on her lips. He pulled free from the place between her thighs and lay beside her.

Resting his hands on his chest he was silent for several seconds, then swallowed and said quietly, "I have never experienced that ... kissing before. And we don't do it like that; facing each other. These things are ... new to me. Very new."

Elizabeth playfully nudged his shoulder with hers. With an arched brow she asked, "Oh, so you didn't like that? I shall remember that." Winston smacked his broad black face with his palm and chuckled, "Oh woman you are killing me. I am indeed addicted to you. Now I shall never want to be with a black girl again. I will only crave you and see your white skin when I need release. And I want many, many more of your kisses. This is very bad!"

She smacked her hand against his belly and looking at his sweat slicked skin, beads seemingly coming from every pore she laughed. "No, what is very bad is the way we both smell. We stink - you especially. We need to find a pool to bathe in. And soon."

He laughed because it was true. He could hardly stand his own stink, and Elizabeth's body too glowed a sheen covering every inch of her skin. But he also laughed because he had never imagined a woman such as this one could exist, or moreover, open her legs willingly to a black African like him. Not only willingly, but repeatedly! Once a tribal elder had explained that the tribe was taking steps to recruit nubile white girls into the family so that the world would one day be beautifully and fully black. He lacked the sophistication to understand how this could be possible and knew nothing of the family's extensive activities under the Africa Rising Foundation. But if such as this was true, he mused as his eyes grew heavy with the need for sleep, then white girls opening their legs to black warriors would make a very pleasant world indeed.

Dusk was falling and an hour later they both awoke to an abrupt juddering halt. Elizabeth scrabbled to find her clothing, which had become scattered about. She quickly pulled on her dress and simply jammed her bra into her rucksack. She squatted to lace her boots and a not a moment too soon. Two of the guards picked at the rope enclosing the canvas compartment and peered into the darkness. They didn't need light to tell them what had transpired for the long road journey - the smell conveyed everything they needed to know.

One of them, a gruff middle aged man with his nose crooked and scars from close combat decorating his face, laughed as he said over his shoulder, "Much much breeding has been going on here. It is clear that white women like what we have between our legs." His confederate laughed and replied that a white woman would have to be really desperate to even look at his ugly face, a comment met with a growl. Looking into to opening, his eyes finally adjusting to the darkness, he commented, "I don't know... this one doesn't seem too choosy. Colonel Harun promised that we would all have turns breeding the white girls."

His partner laughed, "No... this one is too skinny, except for the swelling when Prince Jusef has planted his seed. I want me a big woman with huge white udders, and that red hair like the girl we brought last trip." They both laughed and Elizabeth frowned quizzically, still not able to understand their native language. Winston arose, his powerful naked body seeming to engulf the space. The senior guard grunted at him, saying that they had reached the outskirts of the tribal lands and would be making camp there for the night. Winston translated this for her, and added, there is a very nice pool for bathing and they would freshen together. She stretched lazily and put one foot on the tailgate. The senior guard pulled her down into his arms and placed her gently on the ground. I could get used to this she thought.

For the first time, she looked around and instead of the bleak desert, her eyes beheld the beauty of this tree canopied wild place. They were clearly at a higher elevation as she felt a temperate breeze in the air all around her. It seemed as if she had been deposited in a latter day Garden of Eden. She knew from Prince Jusef that the family ruled over a tribe of nearly 70,000 all of whom had lived for many generations steeped in the curious, but curiously appealing spiritual tradition that owed nothing to, indeed - had nothing whatever in common with - 'book' religions like Islam or Christianity. If the kingdom was all this idyllic and beautiful, she could see why the people were contented and needed little from the 'civilised' world.

Winston lead the way to the waterfall-fed pool. She walked two steps behind him in the way she had learned from Jusef, and now incorporated into her life. Winston was still nude, having left his things in the truck. He beckoned her to disrobe as well. Looking back over her shoulder at the five or so guards who were visible, their dark eyes drilling through her, she shook her head. "No. No! I ... I can't," she mumbled. Her eyes were downcast and a deep crimson stained her face. Winston grabbed her hand and said, "Woman, you said it. You stink like sex. How do expect to get clean then?" He pulled at the buttons of her dress and she offered no resistance, merely frowning at her situation. He pulled her dress down and her breasts were exposed to the twilight air. Involuntarily her nipples grew stiff and reflexively she covered her chest with her free hand as she strained to keep Winston from tugging her dress off.

After a tense moment that effort failed and the guards saw her turn her back to them in shame, her full buttocks pale in the evening light. She moved her other hand to cover first her pussy, then her baby bump. Then deciding quickly, she strode into the cool brackish water to cover her nakedness - but not before a few cocks stiffened in response to seeing her naked body, and not before many pairs of dark eyes saw the completely vulnerable expression in her downcast face.

At least a couple of the guards decided they would have her before the journey's end in two days time. It was clear that she belonged at least for the time being to Winston. The way he handled her, commanded her obedience made it whose possession she was. Ultimately, they each knew she belonged to the prince's brothers and to their father. In their tribe though, all things were negotiable, or could be won in combat, at least amongst the alpha males. The senior-most guard rubbed the stubble along his scarred cheeks and wondered if he could defeat Winston in close combat. The fact that she had gained some notoriety as a 'warrior-woman' made the prospect of fucking her just that bit more enticing. He scratched his chin as he considered how he might best the younger warrior and take the white woman. Rinsing her hair in the cleaner water of the cascading falls, Elizabeth was still mostly ignorant in the tribal ways; unlike other of her soon-to-be sisters did not know any of this potential for violent conflict and at least this night felt safe, even as she understood the urges of the virile men in the entourage.

As she looked back in the soft light casting oblique rays through the trees, she could see the five original guards had been joined by several more and they all had shucked their clothing and were sauntering into the water. A wicked thought crossed her mind as she thought that they all looked pretty impressive, especially compared to her sweet husband. She swallowed hard as a momentary wave of passion warmed her loins. Close and far, she heard animated splashing and the lilt of their native tongue. She could barely see now, but she caught the shadow of one of the point guards perched on an outcropping; his job was to provide security for the squad, but she sensed his eyes fixed on her.

35.

Interlude 7: Michael's New Life

Many, many kilometers distant, her husband Michael had extinguished, then covered the cooking coals with fresh dirt and looked at the hut he shared with Raele. Although, Raele occasionally loaned him out to one or two friends, it was understood that Michael belonged to the powerful warrior, certainly sexually, but in every other way one person can be committed to another. Michael worried slightly at what Elizabeth would think of him now, but in this prosaic garden, he had grown comfortable with his lot in life, caring for Raele's needs and urges as a good sister wife was expected to do. A few times, Raele had brought a woman into the hut and Michael slept in a corner, crying silent tears. But this was now happening at increasingly fewer intervals.

Michael bent low to enter the hut and began preparing the bed litter for the two of them. After he had smoothed the coarse linen and shaken the straw filled pillows, he reached behind and loosened the woven cord gathering his hair, which had now grown very long and silky. He lifted the buttercup yellow tunic from his shoulders and patiently folded it. Placing it into a pile at a distance from Raele's garments, as was the custom for women, he caught sight of himself in a narrow mirror, one of the few luxuries in the modest dwelling. He could not help but notice that his skin was very soft and the distribution of subcutaneous fat had changed dramatically. His hips, thighs and buttocks had collected the majority of this redistribution, and the western male tendency to collect fat in his stomach diminished rather completely significantly. The resulting redistribution resulted in a smaller waistline and larger hips and butt.

Making sure he wasn't being watched he put his hands on his hips and pivoted side to side. He admired his prominent breasts and nipples and his hairless skin. Mama Leone had hinted that he would barely be able to recognize himself in a few months times and she had delivered on the claim. Although he was initially very resistant to the whole feminizing ritual that was expected of a sister wife, and was at first repulsed by the appearance of other men who had been transformed, either by choice (a very rare occurrence, or like him by fiat and force), he had come to rejoice in the effect it had on him.

Even in the best clinics in America, where transgendered femmes had at their disposal the best that western medicine had to offer, were the results quite as stunning as those achieved by Mama Leone and her disciples. He understood that the tribe was busy creating secret biomedical mechanisms to transform western men, but now he didn't care. He was as content as one of the lotus-eaters in ancient mythology.

He combed his hair down past his shoulders and smoothed a red powder into his cheeks wanting to look pleasing for his man.

He smoothed his hands over his broad hips and furtively lifted them to his breasts. Most transgendered women in the could hope for a A or B cup at best, and that after a year or more of hormones, his were now a lush 36 C. He thought back to the beginning of his transformation, remembering the his nipples growing larger and darker and his areolae (the ring of color around the nipple in the center portion of the breast) growing 5 or 6 times their original size and color. Soon after he had begun to ingest Mama Leone's hormonal brew, at first by force-feeding then as the hormones rendered him more docile (really no more than 10 or 12 days), he could feel nodule-like formations budding behind his nipples and a feeling of extreme tenderness and sensitivity in the area. That normalized quickly though and looking down at the tops of his full breasts filled him with amazement and pride. In his heart, he now felt that this was the person he was meant to be.

As his exterior grew more feminine, his internal self grew more womanly, more sensitive and more social. Once his masculine pride would have rankled at being assigned child and elder care, or being part of a chattering group of females, but now it was the center of his being. Once, not long after his breasts began to blossom, he started to walk over to a storage hut to fetch and 80 pound sack of rice. A senior wife scolded him and wagging her finger told him that fetching, carrying, and toting were men's work. She shouted up one of the men sleeping in a hammock and instructed him to bring them a sack. He shrugged and brought it to the small circle of women preparing a large meal, and on his return the woman patted his sizeable cock through his breechcloth. Michael frowned and the woman explained, "Mikka (their pet name for him), a woman has to give to get, yes? We have to feed their egos and hold out the promise of some sex, you understand? It's the same way all over, right?"

Michael shrugged and said he supposed so. Yes, for all the acceptance into the tribal sisterhood, he was not effeminate, far from it in fact, but he had become graceful and feminine and accepted a role as responsible and caring as any other woman in the tribe. After a while, he too flirted with the men, or squeezed their cocks (or more) when they carried water or did other chores for him.

He was unaccountably proud to be transitioning into a womanly role and appearance. His one source of irritation now was the growth between his legs that seemed not to belong there any longer; not to be a part of him. Joseph's fat brother recently (and apparently rather hastily) arrived from America and who was a physician there has explained that if he really wanted, the tribe would arrange a trip to Thailand and that matter could be easily taken care of. As he said this he made a 'snip-snip' motion with his fingers and laughed in a booming bass voice.

Michael was still admiring himself in the mirror, when a fleeting shadow interrupted the feeble stream of lighting coming from the hut's single Edison bulb. All these thoughts were put behind him as he turned and pirouetted coquettishly, presenting himself for Raele's inspection. Seeing Raele's admiring smile, he quickly tucked his tiny but annoying little male parts between his legs and covered his pubic triangle with his hands. Raele was wet from the communal bath and his dark skin had sheen like water on onyx. Michael dutifully pulled a coarse towel from a peg and began drying his man. He also scooped a palm full of oil and rubbed that over the bulging back muscles Raele presented to him. As his small hands slid over the black skin, his tummy fluttered and a warm tingle engulfed his loins. He moved close to Raele, pressing full breasts against the strong back. Raele could feel the taut nipples and the warm breath against him and when he looked down and saw a small white hand rubbing oil over his cock. His body grew tense and needful. Michael could feel Raele's cock growing harder and larger by the moment.

Raele pulled away from him and spoke in a commanding voice, "Mikka, turn out the light." Michael reached up for the slender light cord and gave it a pull. After his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he could see Raele patting down the litter next to him. Michael dutifully got on all fours and looked over his shoulder casting a loving glance and the dark form behind him. Not for the first time was he glad he had thought to oil Raele's body, paying special attention to his cock. Raele entered him, forcefully but also with a certain tenderness. Michael shuffled his legs apart so that Raele could penetrate him more deeply and began to rock his hips back against his black lover.

They coupled like that for a good ten minutes, with Raele tweaking Michael's nipples, rolling them between his broad fingers while he stroked between the now-lush white buttocks. He knew how much this turned on his slender white girly man, turning him into a wanton harlot who ground hips and buttocks needfully against him. Tonight was no exception, and in only a few more minutes he could hold back no longer and exploded, emptying huge jets of semen into his waiting partner, crying out, "Mikka, Mikka, oh fuck... f-u-u-u-c-k."

He pushed his cock deeply a few more times relishing the tight hole and the way Michael gripped him, clearly showing his need and his joy. Michael's release was all internal as he now longer seemed to experience anything like an erection or a male orgasm. Even so, his body had shaken and and tingling all over as he climaxed a minute or so ahead of Raele. Now as a felt the plop of Raele's cock exiting his stretched hole and felt the cum oozing from him, he felt an almost surreal sense of satisfaction and contentment. In the stillness of the night Michael held the doggy pose reflecting on why this made him feel so wonderful and whether Raele would still want him after the proposed operation in Thailand. At the moment though, none of that mattered. Even Elizabeth didn't matter tonight. She had taken the bold steps that launched this incredible adventure and it had for now, culminated in this blissful night. He knew that it could all change in a couple days when Elizabeth, his daughter, and Prince Joseph all arrived, but for tonight, he decided, the world was just perfect.

Raele had already fallen into a deep sleep. Michael quickly scooped cum from his body and rubbed oil into his butt. He dried his hands and managed to braid his hair into a quick sleep braid, then curled his body into Raele's and feeling the steady breathing pushing against his back began to relax. After a few seconds, Raele's giant paw cupped Michael's breast and not for the first time was Michael appreciative of Mama Leone's magic. Michael teetered between excitement and exhaustion as Raele idly thumbed his nippled. Eventually exhaustion won out as he surrendered himself to sleep.

36.

Interlude 8: Karen and Harun

That same night, in the middle of a jungle compound Michael and Elizabeth's daughter Karen tossed restlessly waiting for Harun to fuck her. She had no idea how her life had come to this, but she reflected to herself that the life she had known before sailing from Italy, before giving herself to Harun, before allowing - no wanting - him to breed her was shallow and meaningless. In a conversation with Harun a couple nights previous, he had explained that Prince Joseph wanted her to encourage her friends in America to visit - all expenses paid - and to experience the "real Africa." She smirked rubbing her taut tummy and thought those simpering, spoiled adolescent bitches didn't deserve something this wickedly delicious. She was still under the suggestive influence of Mama Leone's powerful drugs though, so she would certainly comply with Harun's command.

She grew impatient for him to join her in the narrow camp bed and after listening carefully to make certain she was alone, she slid her hand under the narrow waistband of her panties, then finding her throbbing clit massaged herself in the darkness. First her fingers moved slowly then with increasing speed until her chest heaved and she climaxed in a crescendo of shudders. She bit her lip to keep from crying out then rubbed her belly as if in apology to the black baby slumbering there. She pounded her fist against the bedding, willing Harun to come to her. Her pregnancy had made her perpetually horny and even the masturbation had left her wanting more.