The Realm of the Fighting Ladies Pt. 02

Of one thing she was sure: she wanted more of that cock, more of the fantastic sensations she had experienced with it inside her. Now she could understand what Shimbara had said – and no, it was not only dark men that knew how to make a woman happy! Changing her position, she lay on her belly and arched up her rear like she had done on the rock. She squeezed and loosened her pussy muscles, not noticing that she was exercising that trick, and fell asleep toying with the idea that Rodrigo's dick would be brushing her petals her when she woke up.

About two hours later, a mosquito buzzing over her ear made Simona open her eyes. She had been dreaming – what was it? Ah, Awana... She sat up to see if the Amazon had returned; there she was, breathing rhythmically at her side. Simona felt her pussy getting wet: the warrior was lying on her belly – what if she went atop of her and rubbed herself on her butt? The idea made her face flush: Awana could not like that, and she didn't want to jeopardize the chances of her warming again her bed.

She made an effort to take her eyes off from the sleeping beauty and laid them on the dark shapes of the slave girls. Kizumbu! The Shanti was there, at her hand's reach. Why not discover how she tasted? She crawled on her knees to the entrance of the hut and focused her eyes. The girl was in a favorable position, facing up, her head tilted to one side. Simona watched her bosom moving rhythmically, the nipples pointing up like two black arrows. Her thighs were lightly apart, as if inviting inspection of what lay at their junction. There was no reason to hold back; that splendid body belonged to her, and she could do with it as she pleased.

Her hands ran over Kizumbu's shoulders. The skin was warm and silky; she went down to the flat stomach and up again, tracing the breasts and the round areolas on them. Kizumbu made a movement with her arm, as if to remove an imaginary insect, but her nipples slowly grew up under the strokes of the Amazon's fingers. Simona moved them to her sides and untied her girdle; leaning down, she inhaled the scent coming from below the wiry hairs. Her tongue touched the outer folds; they tasted a bit spicy. She licked in slow movements, while her hands continued to caress the Shanti's breasts.

Kizumbu opened her eyes, still half asleep – she had felt something moving on her slit. She stretched her hand and touched a head – for a moment, she thought that she had died and some spirit had come to take her – but then heard Simona whispering:

"Shhh, stay as you are! It's me, your mistress."

The girl shuddered. The woman's tongue slithered up and down her labia, making them wet; she was quite scared, but dared not move. Simona pushed it into the warm love hole, exploring its crevices and feeling her slave's arousal grow; her hands were now firmer, sliding up and down on the bare chest, going past her waist and lifting her ass cheeks to gain a better access to her pussy. Kizumbu's clit reacted quickly when the tongue reached it; she tried to close her legs, but Simona placed her feet on her ankles to keep them open.

A thick film of nectar covered the Nubian's cunt. She felt her thighs trembling and jutted up her hips, offering her womanhood to the caress; Simona went on, probing the depths of that sweet hole with the tip of her tongue and using the flat part to work on the clit. She was totally aroused now; her hand sought her own opening and began to rub across it. The girl writhed savagely, feeling the pressure of her mistress' feet on her ankles; quick spasms shook her belly, and she arched up in the throes of a welcome climax.

Simona's mouth and chin were covered with the girl's spicy juice. She nibbled more on the clit, while her hands moved under Kizumbu's feet; she matched the pace of her lapping with the strokes on the soles. They were somewhat rough - Negroes never used footwear – but soft in the area beneath the arch. Simona traced the curve and the line separating the rougher part from the smooth one, teasing the Shanti and holding firmly her ankles; Kizumbu jerked, trying to free her feet from the tickling.

"Quiet, girl!" the Amazon whispered again.

Kizumbu put her hand to her mouth to muffle an access of laughter; she sighed, relieved, when the Amazon left her feet and raised her mouth from the moist sex. The mouth slid down, leaving a wet trail on her leg, and returned for a moment to the burning knob between the thighs. But only for a moment; a finger delved into the slick lips, swiftly thrusting in and out. The Shanti girl was breathing in short gasps as her next orgasm built up; she wrapped her walls on the finger and began to rock her hips.

"Such a hot creature you are, sweet and lusty", Simona whispered. "You want to release again, don't you?"

"Hmmmmfff.. aaahmmm... Kizumbu want feel sweet!"

Simona took her finger out. The girl put her hand to her cunt to finish off, but the Amazon put it away with a gentle slap.

"This pussy is mine, girl. I decide when it feels sweet."

Kizumbu wanted sorely to finger herself and relieve her body from the burden of lust, but remembered what the Amazon had said –disobey me, and I will personally cut your throat - and refrained from what her instincts were urging her to. She put her hand under her head and waited, her buttocks heaving up and down as her pussy ached for something to fill it.

Through the opening of thekubata,the moon illuminated the Shanti's body. Simona enjoyed for some moments the spectacle of the girl submitting to her will, her legs wide apart and her dark lips glistening because of the wetness on it. She threw herself on her like a lioness on her prey and started to brush her pussy on the slippery slit. She knew exactly where to place her clit to increase stimulation, and rubbed herself vigorously on that point; their breasts pressed against each other, nipple on nipple, increasing her sensations.

Kizumbu was so aroused that she finished almost instantly; Simona sought the girl's mouth and suckled eagerly on the lower lip. Her body was tingling with lust; the Shanti was exactly as she had expected, feminine and docile, and her soft skin was perfect to rub on. She turned the girl on her belly:

"Raise your butt... offer yourself to me... mmmmm...

The Amazon's cunt was ablaze now; she gave her palm for the girl to lick, while her tongue glided on the base of her neck and traced it to the back of her ear. She brushed herself on the soft skin of the buttocks, which Kizumbu had obediently raised; the friction made her tingle, she laid her weight on the slave girl's back, feeling her orgasm building up, and suddenly exploded in a series of jerks that left her breathless.

She stayed over the black girl for a while, enjoying her power over her, and glanced at the Amazons: they were still asleep, and so were their servants.

"Lean on your elbow and cuddle your hips into my crotch. And get some sleep - tomorrow will be a busy day."

The Shanti did as she was told. Simona put a leg over her, accommodated one foot on her knee to pin her into the position she wanted, and rubbed slowly her still wet pussy on the girl's narrow butt. Cupping her breast into her hand, she lapped tenderly the drops of sweat that had formed on the back of her neck, and fell asleep.

Kizumbu stayed for a long time with her eyes open, thinking. She had grown up hearing that she was pretty, and that in due time the Fighting Ladies would take her to their mysterious town. She had tried to hide when the imposing red-haired woman on horseback had entered her village, but her mother was so angry that she had to stand inspection – and, sure enough, the Lady had sent her behind the spear.

During the three-day march to the Talunga place, she had questioned one of the guards about what happened in the Ladies' big village, and learned that her kind would become slaves and have their lobes bored. Her tentative to escape had not been successful, and now she was lying there, feeling her mistress' respiration on her back.

She had mixed feelings about the Lady: her blunt manners were frightening, she wanted to be obeyed at all times, but she was also a superb lover – Kizumbu's cunt had never been licked so well.

The Shanti touched her wrist and felt the bones under her palm. She missed her teeth bracelet, but had to recognize that Simona had been merciful. The girl who served the blonde Lady had told her that a few weeks ago a Pukari man who ran from his master had had his ears cut off. She shivered at the idea that the same could have happened to her. She had better behave herself: there would be no second chance.

Chapter Seven

The morning dawned clear, with a soft breeze blowing over the village. Simona brushed her eyes and remembered that she had promised to reward the young Talunga who had found Kizumbu. She sat up; the other Amazons and the black girls were still asleep. What could she offer she offer the girl? Her luggage was scant, the strict necessary for the week she had to spend out of Erimanton.

Her eyes lay on the belt at her side. She was not prepared to part with it - a piece of clothing, perhaps? She shook her head: those savages wore animal pelts, not fabric garments, and went around bare breasted, except during their service in the army.

The army! The girl – what was her name? Kale something... no, Kule... Kulele. Kulele was not yet a soldier; however, under certain circumstances, her ability to follow a trail could be useful and besides she could run fast. That was the solution, Simona thought: she would offer the girl a place in her squad.

The Talunga were coming out of theirkubatasand milking she-goats for the morning meal; men with hues and spades crossed the central square, en route to the fields or to look after the herds. Simona stopped by one of the milkers and was offered a cudgel of fresh milk, which she drank in a quick swallow.

"Find Kulele and tell her to meet me behind the palisade", she said curtly to the woman who had offered her the milk. Three years commanding a squad of giantesses had taught her that directness paid off. Only a few generations, ago, they were still cannibals; their primitive minds would not understand subtleties of politeness.

Simona had been so upset by the Shanti's challenge to her authority that she had observed Kulele only superficially, but she remembered that the girl had nice curves, and this was the reason why she had wanted to inspect her in a quiet place. Her slim figure appeared at the angle of the palisade; she walked swiftly, as she knew that the Lady was going to fulfil her promise.

The Talunga on top of the wall turned to the outside to see what was going to happen. The Amazon told her tartly to jump inside; she didn't want to be disturbed. As the warden disappeared from view, Kulele stopped in front of her.

"I promised you a reward you for your good job, and will keep my word. But first let me examine your body to see if you are really worthy of what I have in store for you."

Kulele's eyes gleamed with expectation, and it was by her eyes that the Amazon began. She pulled down the skin under them to check reflexes: perfect. Resistance could be estimated by how long she was capable of holding her breath: Simona covered the girl's wide nostrils and counted up to ninety-five before she gasped for air. Gums – bright red; teeth - disposed regularly, gleaming on her dark face. "She is in excellent shape", Simona thought, and said aloud:

"Stick your tongue out as far as you can."

She let her fingers run over the thick lips over the stretched tongue while her mind wandered to Kizumbu slurping on her pussy. Kulele's tongue was bigger, in proportion with her size - she outdid the Amazon by more than one head – but softer. The warrior continued, sliding her hands over the girl's neck and shoulders. Her biceps were already well developed, her tummy flat as a plank, her skin smooth to the touch. No one would call her pretty – her tribe had rather brutish features, perhaps as a consequence of their innate ferociousness, which, as Simona knew, was covered only by a thin varnish of discipline. But Kulele's general appearance was quite satisfactory.

The red-haired Amazon proceeded to the most important part of the examination. Her hand glided over the breasts and caressed the nipples: they were the size of an almond, and probably tasted well.

"Now kneel on all fours, hands parallel. Part your legs and lift up your rear."

Kulele obeyed. Her hide covered only her front, leaving the ass bare. Simona patted and cupped the firm cheeks, then slid her finger over the crack and the crotch to gauge the girl's reaction. The Talunga remained immobile: the last thing she wanted was to flounder in that test.

"She obeys without questioning – an important quality in a soldier", Simona thought as she leaned on her knees to smell the pink cavity in front of her. She stroked the rich folds and spread on the labia the moisture that came out from the slit. Kulele growled and spread her legs wider as if asking for further caresses, but Simona moved on to the thick thighs and to the muscles on her calves.

The last part of the girl's body to pass under her scrutiny was the soles: dirty where they touched ground, light pink under the well-marked arch. Infants had to walk long distances, and flat feet were a liability – in those three years, Simona had rejected several Talunga because of that blemish. She traced the firm tendons between the hollows of her ankles: the girl was perfect, both for military duties and for the other functions she might be called to perform.

"Now stand up and throw your best punch."

That was to test attention and reaction time. Kulele punched forward; the Amazon grabbed her wrists and raised them over the girl's head. Leaning swiftly under her legs, she grabbed her calves and pulled; the girl lost balance and fell on her bum. She had instinctively put her hands behind her body to cushion her fall; except for a small bruise on her butt, no harm had been done. When she rose again, her face showed complete bewilderment – the Lady's movement had been so quick that she had had no time to ward it off. Simona patted her stomach:

"Listen to me, Kulele. Your service time is approaching. You are healthy and well built; it is not your fault if you don't know how to wrestle. You will learn that in Erimanton. I want you to join my squad: this will be your reward."

The girl's jaw fell to her throat in amazement, but her face beamed with joy.

"Kulele want! Kulele run fast for Fighting Lady, find animal if animal leave clue", she exclaimed.

Simona smiled at her excitement.

"Very well. Go say goodbye to your mother and sisters and be ready: we are leaving soon."

Back in thekubata, Simona found Awana and Artemisia breakfasting on milk and fruits. They had already packed and wore light travel outfits.

"Where were you? The squires are out there with the horses", Awana said.

"I had promised to reward the girl who found Kizumbu. She will go with my squad."

"Good." Awana was not particularly interested on which Talunga formed her fellow Amazon's squad.

"I sent word to Rodrigo that we are departing", she went on. "His trunks must be already by the palisade."

Simona threw her a venomous look – decidedly, she was too considerate towards the foreigner - attached the buckle of her belt and put together her things.

Their squires and horses were already in the central square. Rodrigo was arriving on Mkomo, his musket strapped to his shoulder. The giantess seemed fresh as a rose, in spite of having danced for the whole evening and spent a long time with Druna in the bushes. She was happy: her bad luck seemed to have ended. She had met Master, killed a crocodile with her bare hands, and now had won the two races she had disputed. The victories had closed the mouths of all that despised her, including Maromba, who was so infuriated that she had retired early and not taken part in the dances.

The chief of the tribe had come to bid them farewell. Simona spoke in the name of the Amazons:

"Matunga, we thank you for your hospitality. I will tell the Queen what an able and faithful a chief you are. The young Talunga are well prepared; they will be good soldiers and watchers. I am also taking with me young Kulele, who proved herself worthy of joining her sisters in the ranks."

The leader snarled something that Rodrigo could not understand. He turned to the palisade, which had been unbolted. One by one, the Negroes walked into a corridor formed by twenty or so Talunga holding their spears. He motioned Mkomo to the entrance of the enclosure and, as the Kimbundo passed the gate, told the bearers to fetch their loads. Kango and the servant girls took their place by their masters; Simona lifted her hand, and the column set off.

By a tacit delegation from the other Amazons, she was acting as commander of the whole party. The caravan marched at a leisurely pace; the warriors had decided that the trip to Erimanton would take four days instead of three, because of the trunks. The Negroes were anxious: their life had changed forever, and the presence of armed Talunga at such short distance filled them with apprehension. They walked in silence for the first half-hour, with their heads low and worried expressions on their faces. However, seeing that the giantesses were just keeping watch and showed no sign of aggressiveness, they calmed down and began to talk; soon someone hummed a tune, others joined, and the atmosphere became more distended.

***

The caravan had left behind the fields of the Talunga and was now on a wider trail. Rodrigo had noticed that exclusively men, who also looked after the goatherds, took care of the fields. He realized that he knew nothing about the males of that tribe, and decided to ask Awana about them.

"The Talunga are like us", she said. "Women fight, men work."

"Do you have Talunga males in you town?"

"No. They are not allowed to go out from their district. And if one does, he is easily recognized."

Rodrigo nodded. If the Talunga females were tall, the males could without exaggeration be called giants: seven to eight feet, he estimated.

"But wouldn't they be excellent soldiers?"

Awana looked surprised at this remark.

"Men are not made to fight. There were only women warriors among the Talunga, even before we conquered this land. The heads you saw on the poles were of females, and I have been told that only women could eat human flesh."

The doctor smiled at her certitude –men are not made to fight– but said nothing. The kingdom of the Fighting Ladies was founded on separations, both social and geographic: castes with specific functions, immutable hierarchies, and a ban on free movement for the submitted tribes. Rodrigo shuddered at the idea of what his life would have been, had he been born in that realm; but it was unquestionably well organized - much more than the European countries, plagued as they were with rebellions and wars.

He turned his head to glance at the Negroes: he was still impressed by their docility. They marched peacefully, talking and singing as if going to hunt or take a swim at the nearest creek. That was unthinkable outside that realm: nowhere else would one hundred and twenty slaves be kept in order without shackles, collars and chains.

After some more time, the landscape changed: now it was drier and with lower vegetation. The road winded up the slope of the mountain for six or seven miles, wide enough to accommodate the three horses. Rodrigo positioned Mkomo between the Amazons and the servant girls, and cocked his ear: Kizumbu was telling the others what had taken place during the night.