The Realm of the Fighting Ladies Pt. 01

Darkness was approaching, and the doctor felt the need for some rest. He also wanted to see if Kango was prepared to accept the other role that he was planning for him. Being so near the youth for a whole day had made him decide to try and see if what the planters said about having pleasure with Africans was true. It the lad accepted, then good; if he showed too much hesitation or resistance, Rodrigo would keep him just as his servant, without any sexual duties. Perhaps another native would be more easily persuaded, and, if nothing worked, there were enough girls around.

"Kango, I want to give you a gift because you are being so helpful", he said as he finished his evening meal. They were in the hut; Rodrigo opened one of the boxes and chose a pair of red breeches. "Let's see how this looks on you. Stand up and remove your hide."

The lad's face beamed with joy as he undid his loincloth and grabbed the breeches. Rodrigo nodded appreciatively at the sight of his member, which hung down a good palm.

"Wait a moment, Kango. I will show you how to wear these. But first let me examine you. You know - my craft is to take care of people's health – I am a doctor, as we say where I come from. Sometimes people are ill, but don't feel anything until it is too late and they die. Open a bit yours legs, put your hands on your head and stay still."

Kango didn't know that people could be sick and not feel heat or pain. He was sure about his good health, but who knew? He did as Master said. As any Portuguese of his time, Rodrigo knew how to evaluate an African. He opened Kango's mouth to check his teeth: not one was missing. The gums were red - another sign of good health - and the tongue wetted easily, which would be good if he ever got the lad to suck him.

Rodrigo's hands ran over the folded arms, feeling the muscles beneath the glistening skin. There were tiny marks on the right arm, as if bees or ants had bitten it. Kango shivered a bit when Rodrigo turned around him and cupped his ass cheeks, but stood still: he did not want to give the white man any reason to think badly of him.

Rodrigo continued to turn around the young Kimbundo, letting his fingers wrap on his cock and stroking it gently to make it hard. Kango closed his eyes when the man lifted his sac: his dick had hardened with the caress. The doctor felt the weight of the balls and squeezed them – the African bit his lip, but didn't utter a sound.

"Not good ... not good", Rodrigo said.

"What not good, Master?" the lad asked. There was a note of anxiety in his voice.

"Wait. I'll tell you in a moment."

The Portuguese spread Kango's legs, running his hands down from thigh to heel, and went up again, pinching here and there, until he reached the lad's waist. He found the kidneys and pressed them hard with his thumbs; this time, the lad jerked at the sudden pain.

"As I imagined, not good ... not good. Let me see your mouth again."

The African opened it; Rodrigo let his finger slide along the thick lips and the outstretched tongue. "This will feel very good at the right places", he thought. "I couldn't make a better choice: he is strong, beautifully shaped, well hung, and docile. Now let's see if I can talk him into pleasing me."

"Kango, have you felt weak lately?"

"No, Master."

"Have you been bitten by a bee, or other insects?"

"Not bees - ants. Kango came of age last moon and took courage test."

"And what is that test?"

"All Kimbundo do test, Master. Put arm into hollow tree full of ants. Cannot take it out until chief says so. Ants bite hard, but Kango stand firm."

"You are a brave boy, Kango. But perhaps you don't know that ants have poison in their tiny bodies. Your balls, and what you have here" – he pinched hard the skin over the kidneys, provoking another muffled scream – "show that some of it is still in your body. You don't feel it, but it is there. And you may not be able to have kids, unless you receive the right medicine."

Kango opened his eyes wide. Poison? Generations of Kimbundo had taken the courage test, and none had ever been poisoned. He looked at Master:

"Kango feel well, Master. Many have taken test and nothing happened."

"Are you doubting me, Kango? Let me show you."

He took a mirror and put it in front of the young man's face.

"Open your mouth and stretch your tongue out. Do you see little white specks on it? At the back? See - it is not wholly red, as it should be. This means that some poison remains in your body."

Kango glanced at the mirror and saw what the doctor was showing him. Of course, there was nothing wrong with his tongue, and the "white little specks" were just tiny drops of saliva – but he felt scared all the same. His eyes showed that:

"Kango see, Master. What Kango do to be well?"

"There is a medicine for that, but I don't know if you are brave enough to take it."

"Kango brave, Master!" he replied. "No fear bitter herbs."

"The medicine is not a herb; it looks like water, but white. And you will not find it in your tribe."

The Kimbundo seemed puzzled.

"Where, then? Master say where, Kango go find it."

Rodrigo stayed silent for a while. Would the young man he was fooling into sucking him buy his story? He turned around Kango again and ran his hands over the flat belly and the narrow buttocks, appreciating their firmness. The African waited, immobile like a statue, with his arms folded up and his feet pointing each to one side. Rodrigo knelt down behind him and parted his cheeks, revealing the tight, small hole between them. "I will try", he said to himself. "This little hole here must provide a lot of pleasure." He stood up and faced the Negro.

"Kango, the illness is in your balls"- he cupped them again – "they are very sensitive, can you feel?" he added, squeezing him with all his force. Kango growled: that had really hurt! Rodrigo went on:

"The medicine for balls' disease is balls' milk, but from a man whom the ants have never stung. All those who came of age among the Kimbundo, old or young, may have the same disease as you, sleeping in their bodies. I would not advise you to ask one of them to give you his milk."

"But Master, where Kango find milk of man not stung? Kimbundo cannot go more than one day's march, Talunga on big road no leave them pass."

Rodrigo made a serious face. He was a chess player, and the web he was weaving around the young Negro's mind was not unlike the planning of a checkmate.

"Kango, I think that except boys too young for having good medicine in them, I am the only man in this village who has not taken the test. I would not part with my milk for the first comer, but for you I can do that. It is a big proof of friendship, because you will have to take it for several moons, otherwise it would not be strong enough inside you to fight the ants' poison."

Kango put his arms down and let his mind absorb the white man's words. He had never heard anything like that; on the other hand, if it was true, he would suffer pain, would not be able to make kids in the females of his tribe, and could even die. He didn't want to take the risk.

"Master good to Kango", he said, "give Kango finemulambulike his. Kango take Master's medicine."

Rodrigo patted his butt.

"You are a wise young man, Kango. Do you want to take the first dose now? The sooner, the better, but you decide."

"Kango want now."

Rodrigo grinned. Shrewdness was something he didn't lack, he thought.

"Kneel down in front of me and watch."

Kango did as he was told, observing keenly as the Portuguese opened the buttons of his breeches – he had never seen those little round things before.

"Now reach in carefully; when you find my cock, pull it out, kiss the tip and leave your lips on it."

The African put his hand into the opening and touched the warm, half-hard member. Pulling it out, he kissed it and waited. Rodrigo brushed softly his tip against the thick, fleshy lips. He had extensive experience with black girls, and wholly appreciated their hotness, so different from his own countrywomen's attitude to sex. But this was his first time with a Negro lad; in tavern talks, when wine loosened tongues, he had heard planters and even priests speaking in enthusiastic terms about the pleasure one could get from those tight asses and luscious mouths. Now he was going to check.

"Good. Now listen: for the milk to go out, my cock must be very hard. Do you know how to make a cock hard?"

Kango laughed.

"Yes, Master. Kango play all the time with this" – he touched his own huge prick.

"I see. But for the medicine to be strong, it has to be taken out in the proper way. You will not use your hands, but your tongue and lips. Put them behind your back and start."

Kango stared at the white man, utterly startled.

"Master – Kango..."

Rodrigo cut him short:

"It has to be done the right way, or the medicine will not be work. If you want to be ill, it is up to you." He made a gesture to shut his breeches.

The Negro's voice sounded alarmed:

"No, Master! Kango do it right way!"

His tongue stretched out and he began to lick the standing man's cock, in slow movements from the base upwards. Rodrigo was delighted: the sight of that muscular African on his knees, his hands crossed behind his back, licking obediently his dick, was quite arousing. His prick hardened almost instantly, as the wide tongue darted on all its sides.

"Very well, Kango! Now pay attention. How does a baby get milk from his mother?"

"Baby suck breast, Master."

"This is what you will do now. Open your mouth and suck this as if it were a breast."

Kango parted his lips and felt Rodrigo sliding his rock hard member into it. He started at the tip, moving a bit farther with every movement of his head. His mouth was warm, and the soft sucking made the Portuguese's cock swell even more. He took a long glance at the muscles bulging on the young African's shoulders and at his mouth tightly wrapped on his shaft; his cock twitched and he felt the semen going up from his balls.

"Slowly, slowly... You are doing very well! When you feel the first drops of medicine going out, use your tongue to spread them over the head, understand?"

Kango nodded and went on sucking. He was a bit surprised to feel his own member hardening; he wanted to touch it, but kept his hands on his back. Later he would ask Master why he was feeling that. When some precum oozed from the little hole, he spread it with care all over the tip; the taste reminded him of some fruits he knew, sweet but watery.

The doctor pushed his cock into the lad's mouth and began to thrust his buttocks forth and back. His hands kept Kango's head in place; his body was tense, his movements became swifter, pumping in and out – he pushed hard, and suddenly shot his load.

The warm, sticky substance filled the lad's mouth; he moved his head to free it from the grip, but Rodrigo held it firmly between his thighs.

"Let it slide down to the last drop, boy. This will have a very good effect against the ants' poison. And lap what is left on my cock until nothing is left on it."

The Negro closed his eyes and swallowed a sizable amount of cum; the cock was still stiff in his mouth. The Portuguese sat down and enjoyed the tongue flickering along his dick; he was feeling relaxed, and also pleased because the African had followed his instructions so well. Strength and health were important qualities in a slave, but what he – and the other Portuguese – prized most was unconditional obedience. Kango was not a slave – yet – but now Rodrigo knew that he could be talked into obeying, even if with some tact and not knowing precisely what he was doing. In time, Rodrigo thought, it would become automatic in him. He patted the young man's shoulders:

"Very well, Kango. Now stand up and put your breeches on."

The Negro cleaned his lips with the back of his hand and looked down at his still hard cock.

"Kango want touchpati, Master.Patineed feel sweet."

"No. This is like the test you took. Then your arm had to be kept in the hollow of the tree; now yourpatiwill have to wait until I say you can stroke it. Otherwise, you will lose here" – he rubbed gently the voluminous head that had emerged from its sheath, ready to spit out what was forming in those formidable balls – "what you earned here" - his fingers traced the curve of the lips that had just given him such exquisite pleasure.

Kango's jaw fell down in amazement.

"No touchpati, Master? That hard!"

"I know, Kango, but if you have stood the pain the ants inflicted on you, you will be able to stand the itching on your cock. Look at it this way: if you put water in a bowl with one hand and take it out with the other, the bowl will remain empty. It is the same thing with medicine. Perhaps next moon, after you have accumulated a good amount of it in your body, you will able to lose some without doing harm to yourself."

The doctor wanted the African to link the idea of relief with that of sucking his cock, so that he would not only give in to his command, but also yearn for it, as a necessary step towards having his own pleasure. He helped Kango into the breeches and showed him how to close the buttons on his waist and on the opening. They reached a little above his knees, and were a bit tight, underlining the form of his butt and showing clearly the bulge between his legs. Rodrigo handed him a small mirror:

"You look very elegant, Kango. As you saw, I have many fine things in the boxes your fellows brought from the ship. I will need someone to help me with my food and clothes; if you agree to do this for me, I will teach you many things and you will receive fine presents like these breeches. If you prefer not to, I will ask another lad to fill the place. But in any case, I will give you your treatment every day, as I pledged to. What do you say?"

The African stuffed his chest in pride. Of course he wanted to stay by Master's side; an opportunity like that was not to be wasted. All his friends would envy his new garment, and he would learn many things that would give him prestige with the girls when the time came to choose a wife. And most important, his disease had been detected and the good man was giving him appropriate medicine from his own body. He was lucky indeed, he thought.

"Kango want learn, Master. Will find food and take care of Master, this pay for treatment."

Rodrigo repressed a smile: the lad was offering to pay with work for the privilege of sucking his cock. Undoubtedly, his stay among those savages was going to be pleasant..."Good, Kango. I will keep my part of the deal, and you keep yours."

Rodrigo glanced at the starry stretch of sky that was appearing through an opening on the wall of the hut. The next night, he thought, he would use his eyeglass and from the position of the stars he would try to discover more or less the latitude in which he was. But for the moment, all he wanted was many hours of sleep. He threw his body on one of the skins scattered on the ground and motioned for Kango to do the same. In minutes, he was snoring.

The young Kimbundo kept his eyes open for a long time, as his cock twitched inside the new breeches. His impulse was to open them and stroke himself into release, but he refrained from doing so. What if the ants were really poisonous? He had been given medicine against that, and it would be foolish to lose its benefits. Master was right: a man who had bravely stood the pain on his arm could deal with an itching cock.

He felt slightly uncomfortable with that tight thing on his body, but for nothing in the world would he remove it: he was the only one in the tribe to have an outfit like Master's – not even Kashimbo, the chief, owned one. He touched his balls over the soft fabric and came to a conclusion: the best course was to take the medicine. If he was ill, it would help; if he was not, it could not do him harm. This thought calmed him, and he sank into sleep.

Chapter Two

Rodrigo spent the next few days adjusting to his new life among the Kimbundo. It was the first time that he saw Africans who were not slaves. He had spent two years at Luanda, where one of his tasks was to keep the Negroes in good health while they waited for the ships that would take them across the Atlantic. In Bahia, where blacks did all work, he had acquired two girls to take care of his house and for occasional pleasure, and a few males, which he used to hire to the municipality – a common practice among local citizens. The town had been recently founded, and hands were needed to lay down the pavement of new streets, collect garbage and perform other useful tasks. But now he was living among free blacks, and wanted to learn as much as possible about their habits and mentality.

The village teemed with activity. Men took care of the communal plantations – manioc, beans, and a sort of corn that grew in small bushes and that was unknown to Rodrigo. There was a sizable herd of goats to furnish milk and meat; fish was brought from the shallow waters near the shore. Rodrigo was surprised to see how effective were the knives and other tools made from stone; metals were not used. Women prepared food and made baskets, loincloths or pottery; children were left to themselves, and sometimes were carried on their mother's back. The girls seemed shy, and the Portuguese decided not to tamper with them, at least until he knew better the local customs and taboos.

Rodrigo was pleased with Kango. The young man was diligent and learned fast; during their walks in the area surrounding the village, he showed a considerable knowledge of local birds and plants. For two or three days, his new breeches had been the talk of the village, filling him with pride and fortifying his decision to keep his place as Master's aide. Thinking of the jealousy that his gift to the young African could provoke in the chief of the tribe, Rodrigo had presented him with a black hat, which he now sported at all times.

Every morning, after bringing Master a bowl of goat milk and some well-chosen fruits, Kango would kneel between his legs to be given his dose of "medicine". Rodrigo had not yet allowed him to touch hispati; he watched bemused as the young man shifted his weight from one knee to the other, his hands firmly crossed behind his back, trying to stop the itching on his cock while his mouth was busy licking and sucking.

Kango was finding abstinence increasingly hard, but the terrifying stories the Portuguese told him about men who had lost their fingers or gone blind without knowing that poison was in their bodies kept his hand away from his dick. So, after the fourth or fifth day, he began to wait eagerly for the order to open the Portuguese's breeches, hoping that it would bring as a bonus the license to release.

On the eighth day, as Kango massaged obediently his cock inside his mouth, Rodrigo decided to go a step further. He pushed gently the young man's head and said:

"Kango, I think that you have already enough medicine in your body. I will help you to release in a manner that does no harm to you. Go on fours and raise your butt."

The African's face beamed as he took the required position. His cock was fully stretched, a drop of precum already on its tip; it was clear that he would not be able to hold back for much longer. Rodrigo approached him from behind, weighed with his hand the swollen balls and let his other hand slide along the rock hard shaft. "This lad could become a real breeder", he thought.

"You have much juice here, Kango."

"Yes, master! Much juice in Kango!" The sensation of having his balls teased by the doctor's firm fingers was making him more and more horny. Rodrigo took a bowl and put it under the head that emerged from its sheath.