Every Man's Fantasy Ch. 16

They carried their heavy backpacks and plenty of water and arrived in time to be given chores before the evening feast; but not before Erin had almost asphyxiated Carlin with her smothering hugs and the more sedate Eloise had lightly brushed Tamar's hair off her forehead and calmly kissed her. Tamar responded by hugging her mother hard, nuzzling her face into her bosom.

Over dinner, the girls were grilled by the tribe, who wanted to know everything that had gone on at the salvage party camp. Tamar was up to the job on her own, telling a lively story. Meanwhile, Wildchild asked to talk privately to Mirselene.

If Mirselene was surprised to hear Wildchild talk, she made no comment but invited the girl into her hut. She waited for her guest to sit before sitting herself.

Wildchild had never feared anything or anyone in her life, but she felt a sprinkling of apprehension in having to tell the formidable chief of the Woodlander tribe something she was going to dislike. The dull light of the wooden tapers gave her a little relief, partly hiding her face in shadow.

"Well, young lady?" Mirselene asked.

"I'd like to go to the Cloner City to be a Junior for a year."

"A Junior?"

Wildchild nodded.

"For a year?"

She nodded again.

"Why?"

"Solange thinks it will be good for me."

"She's probably right; and it will certainly be good for the Cloners. You're a remarkable young woman, Wildchild. You'll be an asset to their society."

Wildchild knew that Mirselene was unhappy because the chief was scrupulously polite, speaking with surety in a gently controlled voice.

"Thank you, Madam."

"Doubtless Solange will also benefit somehow. Do you know how?"

"No, Madam."

"Has she asked you to be a spy?"

"No, Madam."

"Hmm ... but it's your adopted tribe who will lose out."

"I'm sorry, Madam. What can I do to make up for it?"

"You can stay here and let us enjoy your company and benefit from your work."

"Madam?"

"Except you won't, will you? You want to do this?"

"Yes, Madam."

Mirselene paused. She had no power to stop the girl leaving. All she could do was persuade her to remain, or maybe threaten not to take her back. She rejected that option. Mirselene wanted Wildchild to belong to the Woodlanders and maybe the girl could learn something useful at the Cloner City.

"Promise me you'll come back to us when you're done being a Junior."

"I promise."

"Then I give you my blessing. Do the very best job you can and let the Cloners know what kind of people us Woodlanders are. That will be good for your tribe."

"I will, Madam."

"Good girl. ... So how come you can speak now?"

"I always could. I just didn't want to talk to any Herder; and then not talking became a habit."

"And now?"

"Solange told me it was time to grow up."

"That simple, eh? Solange has a lot of influence over you ..."

Wildchild began to protest.

"... It's not a bad thing. She's a good woman and a good chief. But remember that Gloria won't be pleased if you're a spy for the Herders."

"I'm not a spy, Madam. I'm a Woodlander!"

She couldn't have said anything better. Mirselene stood and held out her arms. A disliker of hugging, Wildchild knew she couldn't shy away. She returned the embrace. Mirselene kissed her on the lips in the Woodlander style.

"You'll do, young lady. I think we should have a pigeon-hunt tomorrow, so you can take some fresh meat with you."

Wildchild spent the night with Sharne and Dagma, showing them her new glass arrow-points, tying them to arrow-shafts with cat-cut. Balancing the arrows was tricky and they spent the next morning trimming the shafts and adjusting the feathers, but in the end she had a dozen good arrows to take hunting. They worked well and she could re-use almost all the arrows. They roasted twenty pigeons that night.

On the following morning there was an affected leaving ceremony. Wildchild spent a long time with Tamar, who cried, despite putting on her happiest smile for her friend.

"I won't need this in the Cloner City," Wildchild said as she entrusted her precious hunting-knife to Tamar's care, tying the holster around the skinny girl's waist.

With leaving-presents of glass arrow-heads to Sharne, Dagma and Carlin, Wildchild said goodbye to the tribe. She carried her backpack, bow, arrows and a swag bag full of pigeon-meat to the Herder's Northern Camp to collect her horse and start on another adventure.

4

The salvage party raft arrived back in the Mariner Settlement on the same day that those who'd been to the Cloner Fair returned home on foot.

Among them was a member of the tribe Ezra had not yet met. Helen was Salema's mother. She'd accompanied Belena's daughter, Gerta, to the Cloner City while she was conceiving a daughter; but now that Belena and Gerta had joined the Farmers, Helen was free to return home. She was happy to do so.

Helen's return was convenient for Cressi and Ezra because Cressi's bedmate, Salema, and her daughter, Della, would sleep in Helen's hut that night to reconnect after nine months apart.

Meanwhile, there was lots to do in the Mariner Settlement. Yumi needed to be introduced to the tribe and a bed found for her. The salvage items needed to be sorted and distributed or stored. Ezra had to lend his laser-knife to Juniel and, when he had a spare moment after chores, just before dinner, he asked to see the latest sculpture by the young artist, Odette.

She modestly presented it for his judgment. It was a wooden portrait of her mother, Althea, lying naked on her side, resting, supporting her head with one hand, the other hand modestly covering her groin. Her legs were crossed at the ankles, her ample breasts facing forward. Her belly was smooth: her naval a delicate horizontal slit.

The composition was exquisite: Althea's curvy body was both open and secret at the same time, both voluptuous and reserved, both motherly and - perhaps unintended by the fifteen-year-old girl - sexually seductive.

"It's wonderful!" Ezra said admiringly. "Your best work yet."

Odette beamed.

While Ezra admired the art-work, Kalyndra and Devon were having an interview with Calliope in her boat.

"What's on your minds, Ladies?" the chief asked.

"It's about Thalassa," Devon started.

"What has she done?"

"Nothing, of course. It's just that she's got no one to be her bedmate."

"That's true. What of it?"

"We want her to join us, to become bedmates with us both," Kalyndra said.

"And what does Thalassa say?"

"We haven't asked her yet ..."

"I see. Are you seeking my permission?"

"No, your advice - and approval."

"You have my complete approval. And my advice is to go and ask her straight away. You are wonderful girls and there's none I'd rather Thalassa were bedmates with - except Ezra, of course, but that's for reproduction, you understand. ... Why are you smiling? What have I said?"

"Thalassa has already become bedmates with Ezra," Kalyndra said.

"She insisted and we helped her," Devon added.

"I see. Well, she has my spirit, at least, if not my brains. Heaven knows what she's going to do with a child, aged eighteen. ... Never mind. It may not happen. ... All right, away with you and ask her. I don't need to tell you to love her well and you know how much she will love you two."

"Thank you, Madam," the girls said and hurried off to find Thalassa.

******

It was a merry dinner that night. It started early and ended late, even without any dancing or singing.

Thalassa was its joyful centre at first. After enthusiastically accepting Kalyndra and Devon's invitation she was overjoyed. Even chattier than normal, she hugged everyone, inviting them to applaud her good news. Finally Calliope whispered to her to calm down, after which Thalassa sat quietly between her new bedmates, holding their hands and neglecting her dinner.

The rest of the feast was devoted to the story of the salvage operation, which had to be told several times by the principal actors, each cross-examined for missing details.

At least Yumi had the excuse of fatigue to refuse to tell her story again. Ezra was not so lucky. The night-rain had begun before the Mariner Tribe let him go to bed with Cressi to enjoy the last night of their week together.

In the hut, Cressi didn't undress but stood in lusty anticipation, clasping her hands together in front, waiting to know what Ezra would do to her but not wanting to spoil it by asking.

Ezra spoke gently at first:

"Cressi, you're here to obey me, so this is my first order: if, at any point, for any reason, you want to stop, just say 'stop', shake your head or make some noise and I'll stop. If you're in pain, or uncomfortable or you've just had enough, ask me to stop. It's important you obey me in this. I won't enjoy myself if you don't enjoy yourself."

"Of course, if my cock's in you and I'm nearing the end and you say 'stop', then I won't be able to stop myself. That's just your hard luck. Any other time, I'll stop and find out what's wrong."

"Don't think you have to endure something unpleasant just for my sake. You don't have to prove anything to me. Do you understand?"

"I do," Cressi assured him, somewhat apprehensive, despite herself. His warning was intended to reassure her but it had the opposite effect, inspiring fear of the kind of thing that might make her want to beg him to stop.

She had little time for nerves, however, because he took her in his arms and kissed her. He held her tightly, caressing her back. Cressi leant into him, standing on tiptoes, her neck straining upward. It was a sensual opening and she melted into the kiss. When she was nicely responsive and getting turned on, he slapped her bottom and pulled away.

"Oooh!" she exclaimed, liking it.

"Hold your arms out," he ordered sharply.

She obeyed, smiling, pleased tonight's performance was about to begin.

First he tied her wrists, leaving a good length of rope, which he threw over one of the roof beams, pulling it tight to lift her arms up. When her arms were straight, he bent down to tie her legs together at the ankles and with a leather strap around her thighs just above the knees.

She was beginning to strain with supporting her own weight, balancing precariously on her toes.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"Yes." She was enjoying the stretch and the restraints.

He pulled the rope a bit tighter and she rose to the tips of her toes, barely scraping the floor unless she put more strain on her shoulders. It was a frustrating torture but one she could easily endure for now.

"Open your mouth," he commanded.

She complied and he gagged her with a rope tied twice around her face, forcing her mouth to stay wide open.

Ezra gently unpeeled her clothes, dropping them to the floor. As he stripped her, his hands lightly brushed over her thin tight body, an erotic touch that made her tingle with expectation.

She hummed pleasantly. He ran the back of a fingernail gently up her thigh, over her waist and up an arm.

"Ahh!" she sighed, relishing the soft touch.

He ran his fingernail back down, this time diverting over a tit, circling but not touching the nipple, down over her belly and along the front of her thigh.

"Ahh, ahh!" she sighed again. This was lovely.

He did it a third time, tracing a line on the inside of her thigh, along the fine hairs around her pussy, dipping briefly into her belly button and up through the gap between her small firm tits around her throat and up the other arm.

She was sighing deeply and beginning to catch her breath as he completed the pass, going downward and stopping at the small of her back. She moaned when he took his hand away and pushed her bottom out to invite his attention again.

He smacked her bottom.

"Uh!" she jumped and lost her footing, taking the weight on her shoulders.

He helped her settle on her tip-toes again and then restarted, caressing gently. She began to squirm as he brushed a nipple. He dipped a finger between her buttocks and gently brushed it alongside her pussy and again down her leg, frustrating her.

She was beginning to buzz as the tension built - which he interrupted with another spank, harder this time.

The next pass took longer. Roaming his hands over her sweet young body, he ended with a finger resting against the slit of her pussy. She bucked, trying to envelop the finger. He pulled away and gave her another good hard slap, making her swing from the rafter.

"Uh, uh!" she cried, then he steadied her, holding her by the waist.

Cressi was enjoying the game. The spanks were erotic and encouraging rather than painful. She could play like this for ages. She sighed her appreciation after every round and began to breathe heavily with arousal.

Next time it was tickles. He attacked her waist and she shook with laughter - until he spanked her hard again, stunning away her giggles.

"Ooh!" she moaned in stinging disappointment.

Ezra held her still before tickling her again, teasing fingers in her armpits and around her neck. Her ears were sensitive. He attacked her waist again, making her cry with laughter, until she was panting from lack of air, followed by a much harder slap on her bottom that took the last of her breath away.

He did it again and again, alternating malicious tickles with soft erotic caresses, his lips on her neck or ribs, gentle fingers running up her thighs, going further each time toward fingering her pussy or tweaking a nipple. The theme was to get Cressi moaning with lust or crying with laughter and then sabotage her pleasure with a hard spank, repeated endlessly.

It was working. Cressi's nipples were hard and she caught her breath even when he lightly brushed them.

The spanks were getting harder and more frequent, her cute little buttocks were bright pink and hot, yet the smacks were more exciting than painful. There was more discomfort in her shoulders, which strained every time she swayed and lost her footing.

Ezra took one of her tits in her mouth and gave it a good suck. Cressi moaned with her eyes shut. Her pussy dripped. Her pink labia were swollen. She wanted his cock in her but the gag stopped her asking and when she tried to bend her body to push against him, all she got was a firm smack on her bottom, followed by pain in her shoulders until he set her on her toes again.

He sucked the other tit and an exploring finger found its way just inside her pussy to spread the moisture up to her clit. She buzzed under the sensual touch. Cressi held her breath and braced herself, waiting for the inevitable spank to sabotage her sexual yearning but it didn't come.

She held her breath while the spank was delayed. She looked at him but he turned her around. Cressi felt his lips on the back of her neck, kissing down her spine. She sighed deeply and shut her eyes. Then the spank came: the hardest yet.

She moaned loudly, twisting in the air until she faced him again, feet scrambling for purchase. He steadied her in the cruelest way possible, holding her by the nipples. She stared at him with defiance that turned into lusty acceptance as he squeezed harder. The pain metamorphosed into hot desire.

She tried to lean into him, was pushed away, turned around and spanked again, a torture as frustrating as it was exciting. The gaps between spanks became shorter.

He sucked hard on a tit again and pushed a finger into her slit. She was sopping wet. He rubbed inside. Her head fell back and she moaned a lusty needful moan, wanting his touch - hands, his mouth, his cock.

Her breath caught as he spanked her again. Her moans were urgent. The strain on her shoulders increased when she momentarily lost strength in her calves and couldn't stand on tip-toes. Cressi protested for real, shaking her head, begging him to stop. Ezra stopped immediately.

"Are you all right?" he asked, removing her gag. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"No, I'm fine. It's just that my shoulders ache. Can I change position, please? I don't want you to stop."

He unhooked her and laid her on the bed, on her front, her legs still tied together. He fastened her wrists to the bedstead and spanked her some more, just to hear her cry out; but Cressi only yelped quietly a few times. She'd entered the zone where numb heat was more enjoyable than stinging pain. In between spanks, she moaned deeply in her throat with a submissive keening, aching for a different kind of treatment.

He saw the change and felt her heat. It was time. He knelt behind her, pulled her onto her knees, sticking her bottom out, and stuffed his cock into her, thrusting hard.

She came immediately. There was a quivering spasm in her vagina and a gasping joy she felt all over. Her tied-up legs shook and she writhed in frustrated satisfaction as he pounded her hard. She came again, moaning loudly, feeling strain in her legs and chest, arching her back, trying to stretch her body out.

He smacked her bottom a few times as he thrust. She cried out from lusty excitement, goaded toward another orgasm. The spanks and the restraints magnified her pleasure at being used for his satisfaction.

She was too tightly tied to buck against him but she was free to moan as loudly as she could. She breathed heavily and responded to every thrust with a cry of urgent pleasure.

It turned him on like nothing else and soon he was near his own ecstatic finish. He grabbed her tits tightly and hammered her quickly for the last few thrusts, groaning loudly. They came together at a final peak, her muscular rhythm matching his pulsating ejection. He rammed her a few more times before the oppressive joy waned and he could relax.

Untied and massaged with soothing oil so she tingled warmly, Cressi was in a place of special contentment. She lay on him, clinging tightly.

"That was wonderful!" she enthused. "When can we do it again?"

After a wash and a rest, Ezra tied Cressi to the bed, her arms and legs spread wide. He gave her a gentle flogging with a soft leather strap. It excited her to a lustful pitch and he left her tied when they made love again, face-to-face. Cressi came hard and slept well afterward.

5

Wildchild left her horse at the paddock to the north of the Cloner City. There was a wooden shelter with troughs of water filled nightly by the rain. The food-troughs were empty at the moment but there was plenty of grass for her horse to nibble and a strong fence to prevent her wandering off. No other horses were stabled there at the moment.

Wildchild tied the blanket over the horse and hung the tackle on a peg. She made her way into the city.

Although the Cloner Fair had only just finished, yet a visitor was still an occasion and many women greeted Wildchild as she made her way to the Council Hall, where she knocked on the front door.

It took a few minutes before Hazel, the pretty blonde Junior, opened the door. She looked at the scruffy tom-boy in the man's clothes, caked in dust from the journey, a hefty pack on her back and a bow and a quiver full of arrows over her shoulder. Lines of sweat ran down Wildchild's grimy face.

"Yes?" Hazel asked, a question lacking the famed friendliness of the Juniors.

"My name is Samothea. I've come to join the Juniors."

"Really?"

Surprise made Hazel sound ruder than she meant to be. She gave the girl a close scrutiny, thinking there must be a mistake.

"Gloria invited me," Wildchild explained with amazing self-restraint, meeting the tall Junior's haughty gaze.

"'Madam' Gloria," Hazel corrected. "Wait here," she added, turning on her heel and going inside. Hazel was not pleased to hear a vagabond in man's clothes address the Cloner chief so familiarly. She hoped Madam Gloria would clear up the error.

Wildchild waited patiently on the steps in the strong afternoon sun, blaming herself for not getting off to a good start by forgetting her manners. It was because she was so unaccustomed to speaking. She determined to do better.