The Standup Boys' Fall

Riman broke into a run. One of the guardsmen spotted him, but did not shoot as he climbed up the Standup wall and vaulted over, into the downhill district. To his relief, his hut was still standing, and Maglin and his other roommate Simchin hid behind it, still alive.

Maglin gasped to see him. "Riman! Where have you been? What happened to you?"

"Is that paint?" asked Simchin.

"What happened to me?" said Riman, crouching next to his roommates. "I should ask you that! What is this? Why is there shooting inside the walls?"

"Bruin started a rebellion in the uphill district," said Maglin ruefully. "And Vot and his group barricaded themselves in with the well. And since a couple of downhillers have thrown their lot in with Bruin, now the central district is shooting at all of us."

"How did this happen?"

Maglin shrugged helplessly. "Vot lost his temper and hit one of his advisers. His support's been running out ever since. And Bruin..." he shook his head. "Something's very wrong with that man. In the monster girl he keeps as a pet. She's doing something to him, I swear."

"Is there any hope?"

"I heard the uphillers are going to try smoke out Vot and his gang. It should-"

"Not of winning, you idiot, of peace!"

Maglin looked shocked, either by the insult, by the prospect of peace or both. "No," he said simply.

Riman ran a hand across his forehead, suddenly not regretting that he had turned coat on Standup. He looked up at the sky, seeing that nightfall was only a few hours away. Under the cover of dark, he would do what he could to weaken Standup's defenses. He would make the women's takeover as painless as possible.

'Women's takeover!' It crushed him to think he and the other men had come so far only to slip back under the heel of women, but Standup had already sealed its own fate. And as long as they were alive, at least, there was possibility.

Now it remained to make sure that everyone survived.

* * *

The great gathering was starting to move. It had been seven days since the first women of the hill tribe appeared, four days since the shamanesses had done the impossible and attracted monster girls to work with the humans, and two and a half since Yissa had allowed Steam to go back to his tribe to do whatever strange things he thought would kill the Izazi weapons. Even now, Yissa could not explain to herself what had made her trust him, but she still she did not regret it. Very soon, she and the other women would stand in the male village, and Steam would be in her hands again.

Weapons clacked against each other as feet pounded the turf. One of the sand-women, wearing the red and blue ribbons of a minor chieftain, drifted to the front, and her tribe followed her example. The fishers went next, surprisingly eager for such a humble people, and the cliffside women went with them, two minor tribes marching together to seem stronger in numbers. It was a gesture especially needed since the bee-keepers had quit the gathering, going back to their apiaries in the sandy lowlands.

Yissa kept tight-lipped, still afraid that her escapade with Steam would somehow be revealed. But her friend Ashee was having none of her silence. "We're doing it!" she enthused. "We're just about to do it! Can you believe it?"

"It's amazing, that's the truth."

"Do you think we can trust the monster girls?"

"Maybe not, but we'll watch them. We'll watch our backs."

"Yissa, why aren't you excited? This is important! We'll get to impress the sand tribe! And the hill-women are running with us! Whoever does best, they'll want to marry all their sons to. And you! You'll get your tattoo!"

"Yes..." Yissa straightened her back. "Yes I will."

Light filtered through the trees ahead, giving away the clearing of the tribe of many males. Women spread out, clustering in groups of three and four. No one tried to supersede the sand tribe, those women whose weapons were honed to slay other women, not animals. It chilled Yissa to imagine them being put to use against hunks—or, worse, boys. Suddenly, the desperate hope overcame her that Steam had managed to kill the thunder-spears and the crossbows. If he had, then maybe the males would be spared the sand women's frightful weapons.

The first women stepped out of the trees, into the open air. Then began the shouts.

All at once, they began their rush, the sand-women squalling in their highest voices and holding their obsidian-bladed clubs high. By the time Yissa emerged into the late-day sunlight, the sand women were already at the males' wall. The crack of guns that she had feared did not come. More women poured over the walls and spread out, and the sacking began.

Yissa leapt over, and for a moment, her thoughts of Steam vanished. She had imagined the male village as a desolate plot of dirt with a few hollows dug into it and maybe a few trees for the prettier hunks to sleep under. Instead, tents and huts stood proudly on the grassy soil, a few with little streams of smoke rising from them. Runnels in the earth channeled water out of the village, and in the center sat a wall twice as tall as she was, encircling barely enough space to house a family. What that building was for, she couldn't begin to guess.

A male battle cry brought her back into the moment. Hunks were everywhere, and they were armed. The sand-women gave them no time to gather themselves before plowing into them, clubs smashing across heads, shields bashing them to the ground. Warrior-hunks aimed their guns, but nothing happened. There was no thunderclap, and no one fell dead.

That was as far as the warrior-hunks got before they were overrun. Hungry, ferocious women swarmed the downhill huts, a few thunderclaps echoed from the circular wall in the center, raising jets of dust where the mysterious shots hit the ground. Monster girls charged the circle-wall, driven by lust and animal rage, and one monster girl was struck, but barely stumbled. In no time, they stacked themselves up against the wall and leaped in the top, moving with such ferocity that Yissa worried for the lives of the warrior-hunks.

That worry reminded her of Steam. He would be in here, somewhere, unarmed and hiding. As she watched, the last of the warrior-hunks uphill bared their machetes defiantly, but as the female mob descended on them, it was clear the hunks had never used blades in a fight before, and the sand women easily disarmed them.

Now they got to the fun part. Yissa joined the frenzy, going with one woman into a hut that looked ripe for pillaging. But inside, they found that one of the sand-women already had the hunk inside on his back, and her white skirt puffed in and out as she bucked on him, moaning straight up into the air. Seeing Yissa, she turned a wild smile on her and said, "You want his mouth?"

Yissa's partner eagerly joined the sand-woman, straddling the hunk's mouth and slapping his cheek a few times. In seconds, she was panting and moaning as his trapped tongue plied her womanhood.

Yissa ducked back out of the tent, trying to decide where a smart hunk like Steam would hide. When she saw a small tent on fire, she sprang into action, yanking up the stakes that secured the cloth and pulling it off its wooden frame, folding it over itself.

Inside, a panicked-looking hunk crouched in a partially charred frame. He gaped back at Yissa, failing to from words in the moment before two young women piled into him and pinned him down.

Yissa stood up straight. Around her, the victorious women had gotten creative with the hunks. Males were being tied side by side onto the circular wall, their legs spread and their juice-rods pumped to erection. Elsewhere, a jungle-tribe woman who Yissa didn't recognize held down a strong, struggling hunk while her partner expertly hogtied him. Behind these two, a line of women stood with vainly squirming male captives, waiting their turn to have them bound.

Uphill, the monster girls had selected their choices and dragged them off into the trees, the males gasping and flailing to keep their faces from scraping against the ground. Closer to the middle, on an open patch, a gang of twenty or more women muscled two hapless hunks to the ground, then backed away. The hunks' ankles, Yissa saw, were bound to their thighs, forcing them to kneel facing each other, and each hunk's hands were tied together, but not behind his back—they were tied behind the other hunk's back. Already, they had been stripped, showing their round, tight butts to the jeering female crowd. They faced each other uncertainly, but the fullness of their juice-rods clearly showed that their bodies knew what to do.

"Kiss!" chanted the women. "Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!"

The two hunks faced each other, lifting their gazes from the ground, and fire shot through Yissa's spine as she recognized one of them.

Steam leaned in close to the hunk he was tied to and spoke something that the other women didn't seem to hear, but Yissa did: "Do what they say. We'll be alright."

Steam closed his eyes, and the young black-haired hunk across from him puckered his lips. To the rising cheers of the women, the two hunks kissed, at first uncertainly, and then leaning into each other. Below, their juice-rods touched, bouncing as the pressure of their erections tried to force them straight.

Finally, the hunks separated as the women closed in. When Yissa was about to join the crowd and fight for him, Steam turned his head and noticed her. "Yissa!" he cried out.

The women stopped. Most of them were jungle women who knew Yissa's name, and they turned to face her with baffled looks.

Even from a distance, Yissa could see Steam's mind race. Wrapped around a hot, sweating hunk, his juice-rod goaded to hardness by all the female attention, he struggled visibly to think. "She visited me in a dream," he said at last. "And told me her name. That woman is Yissa. And I am..." he paused for an agonizingly tense moment. "And I am fated to be her husband."

The slight black-haired male leaned back, shocked. The women all glanced cluelessly between Yissa and Steam. Finally, one huntress stepped forward and began undoing Steam's bonds. When another woman tried to stop her, she shrugged her off, saying, "He knew her name. It must be the truth."

Relieved, Yissa hurried over, and as Steam was released, he leaped up and hugged her, not seeming to care that he was naked. Yissa sighed, enjoying the feeling of masculine arms around her.

She felt his breath as he whispered in her ear, "Just protect me, and I'm yours."

* * *

Steam watched as Maglin paced around the tent they shared, sweating even though it had been hours since his new wife deflowered him. Stopping, Maglin peered down at the patterns she had painted on his chest. For the thousandth time, he pushed open the entrance flap and watched as the tribal women hustled around Standup, arguing in hushed tones. His eyes scanned for their lost roommate.

"Would you calm down?" said Steam at last. "Simchin is fine. He's probably in a different tent."

Maglin turned around, muttering to himself, and slumped to the floor, cross-legged and hanging his head. His muttering grew louder. "I can't believe my powder cartridge was a dud. I didn't even get a shot off."

"Don't feel bad," said Steam. "At least we all survived."

"But we didn't even put up a fight!"

"Would you have preferred to fight and lose? Wouldn't you rather have everyone live?" Steam shook his head. "That's the thinking that made us all start fighting each other in the first place."

Looking again through the tent flap, Maglin froze. Steam shuffled over to him, suddenly curious.

On top of an earthen mound that hadn't been there before, a woman in a flowing dress stood behind three chiefly-looking women, one from the jungle tribe, one from the hill tribe and one from the sand tribe. They stood before a crowd of similarly mixed stock as the woman in the dress tied the hands of the chieftains together with a neat-looking ceremonial ribbon.

Elsewhere, Standup had changed. The miniature fortress that Vot and his followers had built around the well was gone, as were a few of his faction, dragged away by the monster girls. No doubt they were, as Yissa would say, on frames. Steam bitterly regretted it.

Other men had done better. They waited in the tents and huts, some alone with their wives, others in groups where the new husbands had been squirreled away until more homes could be built to house all the new families. In the clearings, some of the strongest men dug foundations and set posts to do just that, instructed by the women who had experience in hut-building. A rope snaked around each man's cock, running between and around his balls. A woman held the end of each rope, ready to give it a yank if the man disobeyed. Some were making it necessary, unsurprisingly. Standup was, after all, a city for spirited men.

The border wall, which hadn't suited the jungle women's sensibilities, had been dismantled, but a section of it remained standing. A few men were tied there, spread-eagled and naked, their overused cocks limp and useless between their legs. They were the unlucky ones who hadn't been claimed by anyone, and who would now serve the entire female population. The battle had gotten the women excited, and those men had served as an outlet, bearing the brunt of their lust.

The traffic had settled down. Fewer than half of the conquering women had chosen to stay, and still the population of Standup had doubled. Hours ago, those not yet housed had milled around, calling out to each other, bumping into each other, and some of the desert women had even gotten in fights. But now, at last, the peace of night was settling over Standup.

Then Steam saw Yissa coming.

* * *

When Yissa arrived in her new hut, hand rubbing her shoulder where her tattoo had been cut into her flesh, she saw Steam kneeling eagerly in the middle of the floor, looking up at her with a tempered glint in his eye. He looked good in the husbandly shoulder dress and short skirt she had put him in, and the paint on his chest still glistened.

"Steam?" said Yissa. "How long were you waiting like that?"

"Only since I saw you coming," he admitted.

Kneeling, she cupped his jaw in both hands. "Some hunks need to be chained down first. But you waited for me. You're the most willing hunk in the whole tribe."

"You have honor, Yissa. This is my repayment."

The other man in the hut sneered, but Yissa ignored him as she pulled Steam onto her lips. His warm, wet mouth was hers to explore, and he gave back, pressing with his tongue and sucking intently. When Yissa separated from him, she found that she hadn't had enough. Not letting go of his head, she pulled him in again, going slower this time, gently sealing their lips and closing her eyes as she enjoyed his mouth.

Finally, she finished and pulled his head away. For a moment, she gazed into his face, enraptured by his sweet smile with her saliva still smeared on his lips. With a push on his shoulders, she had him on his back, and he let out a cute grunt as his back hit the soil. With a grin, he began undoing his skirt.

Yissa put her hands gently on his. "Not yet," she said. When he gazed quizzically up at her, she stood, removed her own skirt and lowered her womanhood onto his bare chest. Just the hardness of his muscles made her moan. Her slick vagina slid over his abdomen, his warmth inflaming her, every little ridge exciting her senses. With a flex of her hips, she brought herself back, then forward again, feeling his skin moisten with sweat. His hands came up and held her thighs, their grip just tight enough to tantalize her, and she quickened her pace, grinding on his flesh faster and faster. Eventually, she reached down with her right hand and passed her fingers over her clitoris, making her shudder so hard that she lifted off him for a moment. She kept going, sliding back and forth, stroking herself to the rhythm, heat rising inside her until finally release blinded her.

When she had her senses back, her arms held her up, hands braced on Steam's broad chest, her head lolling from her shoulders as she panted. His tight stomach was nestled firmly, pleasingly between her legs, and the heat of his body fed into hers.

Yissa leaned down to whisper in his hear, "Get your tongue ready."

With shaking legs, Yissa stood up, watching as he got up to his knees. Gently, looking up at her the whole time, he brought his face into her pulsing, heated sex. His first lick sent lightning through her. She struggled to stay standing, gripping his head as he made another long, slow pass across her flesh.

"More," she huffed. "More, more! Faster! More!"

He sped up gradually, making another pass between her walls, going across, then deep, then high, agonizingly close to her pleasure spot.

Yissa's legs nearly buckled, and she separated from him, giggling at his confused expression as he stopped with his tongue out. Kneeling astride him, she pushed him onto his back again, then crawled over his mouth. "Like that," she breathed. "Keep going."

Now Steam didn't waste any time. He went straight for her nub, his eyes closed and his head moving with every stroke. The slightest touch felt like bowstrings were being plucked in her abdomen. She pushed down onto him, trying to get more, and finally she felt her climax coming. She arched her back, screaming with delight as her second orgasm gushed out of her.

She stayed astride his mouth as she regained her breath, her whole body heaving as she tried to regain herself. Steam was special. All of the Izaz hunks were special, and this one was special among them. Finally, she slid herself backward, freeing his mouth.

"Did you like it?" asked Steam, knowing the answer.

As her response, Yissa moaned through closed lips, then fixed him with her sultriest stare. "Almost done," she told him. Reaching back, she wrapped her fingers around his juice-rod. "Are you ready?"

He grinned and spread his legs a little wider.

Positioning herself, Yissa took a moment to enjoy the tension of hanging over his juice-rod, then lowered herself on. She went slowly, savoring every finger-width that pushed into her. She lifted off him, hearing Steam sigh as the friction ran up his cock.

Part of her wanted to keep going slowly, but two orgasms had already warmed her up. She fell on him, her hips slamming against his, bulbous hard meat impaling her, then she hoisted herself back up, pausing just long enough to look into his eyes as she crashed back down over him.

Even after releasing twice, Yissa knew she would not last long. She began to rock her hips back and forth, putting friction on her nub with every press, and the pressure built up fast. In no time, her third release erupted from her, and her thighs crushed his. When she came down from her orgasmic high, she realized that she was still bucking on him.

Three times released was enough for one evening. Now all that remained was to make Steam cum. Keeping her hips bucking, she leaned down, gathered his head in her arms and kissed him, sucking to the rhythm of her riding him.

He didn't take much longer to burst. Thick, milky cum forced its way out of his juice-rod, pushing up into her depths, and she kept kissing him as wave after wave gushed into her. He groaned and sighed, fingers curling on the dirt, but Yissa did not let go of his mouth until he was finished. When she separated from him, she couldn't tear her eyes off his. "Should have called you 'Volcano,'" she said.

He sat up, enfolding her in his arms. For a minute, they knelt there, enjoying each other's warmth.

The next time Yissa looked into his eyes, they were aimed out the window, distant and sad.

"Steam..." Yissa turned him to face her again. "Do not feel sorry for what you did."

"But those men wanted freedom."