The Realm of the Fighting Ladies Pt. 01

Druna jerked wildly as waves of lust went through her body; it had been some time since she had been given such a treat. Mkomo put her head between the girl's legs and with her tongue made her finish; they both lay on their bellies, exhausted but relaxed.

Rodrigo thought of calling Mkomo to finish him off, but thought better and did it by himself. As he returned to the place he had chosen to sleep, he heard Kango snoring rhythmically, his hand on the bag as if to protect it from imaginary thieves. The doctor felt pleased by that silent demonstration of concern for his property. If he ever returned to Brazil, he thought, he would bring with him the young Kimbundo; such a dedicated slave was an asset not to be wasted. He opened the bag and took off his eyeglass.

The sky indicated that they were below the Equator: a little above the horizon shone the Southern Cross, but, in the absence of more precise instruments, it was not possible to tell the latitude, even approximately. He spent some time looking at the constellations, trying to identify them; suddenly, he sensed that someone was watching him and turned back. Awana was holding a small torch just behind him, her sleek silhouette clearly cut against the moonlit sky.

"What are you doing?" she asked in Greek.

"See by yourself."

The doctor showed her how to use the eyeglass and handed it to her. As she grabbed the tube, her fingers touched his for just one moment too long; he felt a shiver down his spine, but controlled himself.

The Amazon looked thought the glass and uttered a muffled scream: she had aimed it at a sleeping Talunga, and her naked butt seemed extraordinarily near. Rodrigo smiled: how was he going to explain elementary optics to that woman?

"This instrument allows you to see distant things as if they were near", he said. "Very useful."

Awana handed him the tube and sat down on the grass. As she stretched her legs, Rodrigo noticed that she was barefoot; he accommodated himself in a position that would allow him to place her right foot on his thigh, should the occasion arise.

"You have traveled a lot, haven't you? Have you been to the land our ancestors came from?"

"No, Awana, but some day I will. May I ask you, how did your tribe come to this area?" He took her foot in his hand and caressed the pad, just under her toes. Before she could react, he went on: "Greece is here." He slid his finger down to the round heel and pressed it. "We are more or less here. Far away, as you see."

The Amazon was taken by surprise by the foreigner's audacity. No man had ever dared to take her foot in his hands and caress it! But she was not angry; she appreciated boldness, even if she had never met with it in a man, and what he was doing was not at all unpleasant. She rested her foot on his thigh and began to tell:

"Many, many years ago, our ancestors were chased by their enemies from their homeland. They wandered from one kingdom to another, fighting many battles, until one day they found a place to rest. But they discovered that nearby lived a tribe of cannibals."

Rodrigo was thinking quickly: should he go on with his caress? The Amazon seemed to like it... He traced the curve with his finger, ready to apologize if she protested.

"The Talunga."

Awana did not protest; instead, she put her other foot on his thigh, in an unmistakable sign that she was liking that game.

"Exactly. They fought the cannibals and submitted them; but their numbers were small. Their leaders saw that to rule the land they needed workers. At first they tried to make the Talunga work for them, but were too primitive. They explored further and discovered that the other tribes were happy because the cannibals had been controlled."

The Portuguese listened with care; his fingers were running up and down over the entire length of the warrior's sole, making a sort of dance between the harder skin on the heel and under the pad and the softer part where it didn't touch ground. He glanced at Awana's face, seeking for any signs of displeasure, but she went on as if his hand was miles away:

"A wise queen decided to make treatises with those tribes, and make the Talunga into soldiers. Over time, the system evolved into its present from. There are three tribes, the Kimbundo, the Shanti and the Pukari, each living in a separate area of our kingdom. They still fear the Talunga – with good reason, for sometimes they can go wild – and pay tribute to us furnishing slaves to cultivate our fields, take care of our goats, and do any other kind of work we may need."

Rodrigo nodded. He wanted to know more, but his cock was sending a clear message – it had to be taken care of, and quickly.

"And how do you control the Talunga?"

"They are tall and strong, but not very intelligent. Our ancestors crushed them in several battles until they accepted our conditions: no more eating human flesh, five years as infants in our army, and the right to punish severely any of them that relapsed into their old habits. We give them some privileges, and they bite the bait: they feel superior to the other tribes."

"Mkomo told me that they are not slaves."

"This is correct. They can go back to their village after five years of service. Why have you stopped caressing my foot?"

Rodrigo was taken aback by that comment.

"Do you want me to go on?"

"Yes."

The Portuguese brushed lightly her well-chiseled ankles, feeling the hard tendons and pressing into the hollows. How far would she allow him to go? He ran his first and second fingers quickly along her calf, scratched a bit under the knee and stopped. The warrior laughed:

"Do that again!"

She was feeling surprisingly well with that man. He was not like the breeders in her town; she had visited them sometimes, but her experiences had not been very pleasant. The friends with whom she had exchanged confidences were of the same opinion: sex with males was dull, mechanical – far below what an Amazon could feel with a fellow Amazon. As Rodrigo repeated his caress on her other leg, Awana remembered her hot nights with Shimbara, the Pukari girl she had had for a time as a personal slave, until a snake bite brought her life to a premature end –thatwas pleasure – the smooth dark skin, the heavy scent that emanated from between her legs, the swift tongue bringing her to a climax night after night...

Shimbara had told her about how the Pukari she had been sent to mate with had used his prick to stir fantastic sensations inside her. Of course it was excluded that she, as an Amazon, would go to bed with a slave – but was it possible that only dark men knew how to make a woman happy?

As she was lost in those thoughts, Rodrigo had profited to push his hand above her knee and into her warm thighs. The Amazon realized suddenly how far he had gone; her pussy felt wet, her heartbeat was accelerated – his touch was so soft... She took the man's hand and put it on her slit. He was lying on his belly, his hips arched up to avoid hurting his cock, which was in full erection.

"Awana."

"What?"

"Are you sure you want this?" Rodrigo asked, brushing in circular movements the little knob under his thumb. "I don't want you to repent tomorrow and become upset with me."

Her only reply was to lay down and lift her skirt. Rodrigo didn't need more incentive; he pulled himself up and buried his head between her thighs. He sucked her labia into his mouth and with his tongue worked the rosebud on their top, making her wiggle on the grass; his hands cupped her haunches, his tongue slid into her cavity – he was looking for a hymen, but there was none – he returned to the clit and kept licking there as fast as he could.

The Amazon moaned softly; that was even better than Shimbara's tongue! She contracted her belly, her thighs began to shake – suddenly, it was as if a lightning had struck her – she jolted. Rodrigo took his hands from under her butt and folded her legs, keeping the ankles apart so that she could not close her legs – and suddenly the climax came, stronger than anything she had ever experienced. The man kept licking and pinning her ankles; she tried to free herself, he didn't let her go – and again, spasms of pleasure sent her body up. There were tears on her eyes:

"Stop! Stop, please!"

Rodrigo kissed delicately her cunt and leaned on his elbows, his eyes fixed on the line between her closed lips. Her juice tasted good in his mouth – less acrid than Mkomo's, a bit thicker in consistence, he would say. Awana took some time to recompose herself; finally she sat up and said:

"You have made me happy, Rodrigo. I will not forget that."

He smiled.

"Such a pretty lady deserves nothing less."

The Amazon rose up. Her legs still trembled a bit as she walked off under the starry sky. Rodrigo decided to refuse his cock the release it was crying for: if next night the Amazon wanted more - and he was almost sure she would - his pleasure would be much stronger. That young woman could be a warrior, but she needed badly a good dose of rigid cock – and he was prepared to furnish it any time she asked to.

***

Kango was holding carefully his master's bag on his shoulder as they descended the hill that marked the limit of his tribe's district. Below him, already on the edge of the wide trail that cut across the plain, the other Kimbundo were resting, under the close surveillance of the tall women. Mkomo was some steps ahead of him; his eyes wandered from the narrow trail to her bare butt, and up to Master's back, erect on the shoulders of the Talunga.

The lad was torn between conflicting feelings. On the one hand, he was happy – Master had kept his promise, talked to the Fighting Lady, and she had agreed to let him keep his privileged position. Also, as Master had predicted, Nwanze had been selected to work for the Ladies, which meant that he could go on courting her. On the other hand, they were leaving the territory he knew so well and heading into the unknown. How would life be in the Ladies' big village? He trusted Master – but what would he become if the Ladies decided to kill the white man? And the Talunga – well, it was wiser not to think of the Talunga...

Mkomo had reached the plain, and soon Kango finished his descent. Master was telling his mount to speed up; she began a light trot and soon reached the caravan. The Lady was already atop her horse; the column was on their feet and ready to continue its journey.

Rodrigo made Mkomo walk by Awana's horse and addressed her in Greek:

"Are we near your town?"

"No. We are going first to the Talunga's village. There we will meet Simona and Artemisia, who have been sent to fetch slaves from the other tribes. We will spend one or two days there, and then continue to Erimanton."

"Do you mind if I ask you a question? Don't think badly of my ignorance, but I have to ask it."

"Go ahead. Talking makes trips shorter."

"Is it true that you Amazons kill the male babies?"

Awana looked bewildered.

"Kill babies? We are not barbarians! Where have you heard such an absurdity?"

"There are legends about your tribe, Awana. But I see that they are not always true. For instance, it is believed that you cut off your left breast to make the handling of your bows easier."

"This was true in ancient times, but we have learned to shoot arrows without mutilating ourselves", she replied sarcastically.

"I have noticed", Rodrigo said, teasing her a bit. "But please, tell me what happens to men in Erimanton."

"They have the same rights as us, can vote in the assembly, own slaves, and so on. We need men in the administration, as artisans, dealers, architects... Only, they cannot serve in the army. Or have children, except if they are breeders."

Rodrigo raised an eyebrow.

"Breeders?"

"Yes, breeders. How do you think we reproduce? You don't believe in spontaneous generation, do you?"

"Of course not. But why can't the other men have kids?"

"Because they are forbidden to."

"Tell me more, please."

"Dice are thrown by the priestesses to decide who will be allowed to breed – one out of six young men. The others pledge solemnly not to seek females. They can go with their slaves, though."

"And what happens if someone breaks his oath?"

"He is castrated. The last time this happened was more than a century ago. Your sex prizes their balls, you know."

Rodrigo let his mind absorb that piece of information.

"And what if a slave refuses to yield?"

"None would dare to saynoto his master – he would have his hands and feet tied to four horses and made into pieces the next day. Disobedience is not tolerated in our society."

The doctor nodded. He knew from his studies that in ancient Greece contact between two men was not only allowed, but also considered the highest form of love. He had tasted Kango's butt and now knew from first-hand experience how much pleasure a docile Negro could bring to his master. Even so, all his being rebelled against what he had just learned. From Adam and Eve's time, men had commanded and women obeyed – except if they were queens, and that was very rare. He had heard that the British had currently a Queen, but in his native Portugal that had never happened.

He glanced at Awana's shapely legs and recalled the taste of her pussy in his mouth. She had begun to give in; he would proceed with care, a little more at every encounter, and make her desire his cock as she had never desired anything in her life. That was the way to conquer her, and perhaps other Amazons as well. Until then, he would use Kango or Mkomo.

He looked around: where was his slave? Ah, there he was, at Nwanze's side, talking to her and making gestures with his free hand. The Talunga didn't seem to care; they were marching at the column's sides, their spears high on their shoulders, but Rodrigo knew that they would not hesitate to hit any Kimbundo who dared to lag behind. He watched the bearers's backs glistening with sweat; they were holding good even under the scorching African sun. He scratched affectionately behind Mkomo's ear: in a few more days, he would know what Fate reserved for him in the Amazons' capital.