Theories of Flight
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The Flight Of The Naked Goddess - 5 free porn video
I wake up beside Zuleidas warm body next to me and I am so happy! The memory of last nights delightful intimate play lingers sweetly in my mind. She is still asleep and she looks relaxed and content, as I softly pull the sheet off her luscious body to inspect her more closely. Her little snake is curled up cosy in its warm hairy nest like a naked chick, but it flinches under my tender touch and rises like magic softly in my hand.
My friend stirs and starts to moan - she wakes up and smiles slyly at me: »Want to do it again, lovely Princess?« But as much I could be tempted to do so, I know that I have to move on. So I say: »As soon as I get home I will send for you, Zuleida, and then we can indulge further in our oh so special friendship. But for now, do just grant me one only favour! There is a restless curiosity in me that I would like to have satisfied: Would you kindly let me taste your sweet milk, my friend - that its power will give me the strength for the day!«
»Oh, I would die from shame, my dear Princess, this does not fit!«, she exclaims with utter indignation, but she laughs like a bell as I labour away with hands and mouth to deserve my early breakfast. And I'm astonished by the sweet humbleness of the feeling of subjection to another ones joy, and I marvel at this wonder of anatomy, this nearly impossible mixture of the muscular strength of the long veined stem and the absolute softness of the ripe fruit on top - it is a real experience to explore that magic object of desire with a sensitive tongue!
But I enjoy the bliss of the reward for my loving devotion as well - my flower opens gratefully to her tender treatment: Her fingers work sparkling wonders between the velvet petals and our lust rises in elegant unison again. The boy comes in with a bowl of clean water on his arms, but now he has to wait! And, unable this time to hide his admiration for me his short tunic rises, and so exposes his lovely little dagger to my lusty gaze. Our eyes stay fixed as I perform my initial task, and I can read jealousy in his eyes.
I look back without regrets to the years of boring abstinence in the royal harem - and I thank Hapi for my easy escape again! And on the very brink of my own ecstasy I feel Zuleidas warm fluid streaming up from their tiny round reservoirs and filling my mouth in delicious little squirts. The juice tastes as fresh as the sauce made from young white mushrooms and the little nuts of the tall pine trees - I'm all in heaven as the unique and delicious aroma hits my sensitive palate and the powerful orgasm explodes simultaneously in my groin, like genuine Chinese firework!
Zuleida laughs and cries from sheer pleasure, she shudders and shakes as she presses me to her soft bosom and kisses her own comings from my lips. Then she washes me again with the relentlessness of her womanly tenderness. She waves the excited young man closer and simply undresses him. I wonder about the reason of the erotic act of unveiling his charms completely - he is certainly a well-proportioned species that would suit my rather spoiled taste buds well, I can imagine! But the boy seems deeply embarrassed about my unhidden interest in his lovely little dagger and the potent juice it may produce - he retires quick and blushing-red.
Zuleida dresses me in his simple brown tunic that suits my slender form well. And with my short regrowth of hair it makes for a clever disguise! The little boy arrives again, dressed with a cute mini skirt, to inform us, that Massimo is ready. And in deed: The huge man thrones already high on his horse as the majestic Adulla gives him the last instructions.
As he sees me in my dress he puts a huge smile on his face and booms: »What a fine boy Wyralla makes! And how it hurts my heart to have to part from him so soon!« Then he blesses me well for my ambitious journey. But he warns me sternly about the danger of the time, when stealing princesses provides a profitable business for every crude crook! He hugs me with fatherly support and pinches my taut royal buttocks with real connoissance.
His daughter embraces me with unusual intensive warmth as the salty tears of separation roll down her cheeks. Then Adulla helps me onto the horse and kisses my foot with true respect. »Only with you will Zuleida have a better live than with me! She will be my present to your immortal beauty, Lady Wyralla!«, he says so cheekily, as if he had read the content of our private conversations in the stars of last night.
The heavy horse snorts wild and rises up dangerously high on his back legs. And then it jumps forward and speeds up into a thundering stride. Crippled bushes and withered rock formations fly past us in a haste, like the autumn wind blows the fallen leaves. Massimo seems to be in a good mood and he hums a happy little melody as the landscape flattens out again into a boresome and completely uneventful hot pan cake. His tunes sound quite familiar to me, and I start to sing a fitting lullaby along with it, until we both crack up in laughter about our unintended disharmonies - and the horse seems confused.
After a while he even tries to talk to me in his funnily strange accent: »Lord Adulla tell Massimo: Wyralla woman, not baby! Massimo servant of Wyralla woman!« And then he roars a hefty laugh and slaps me friendly onto the naked thigh!
I know that I'm in good hands with him and as the hours run like sand through the fingers of time the golden sun heatens the hidden desires. Since a long time I fell Massimos snake pressing stubbornly into the small of my back and my bum burns like fire. I tell him to stop for a drink of wine and a short rest on the horses neck. And I remember with hotly up-welling regret, how shamelessly I exposed my most intimate parts to him yesterday to the purpose of gaining personal pleasure. I presented him with such a sight that would drive even the strongest man into a fiery frenzy, but he didn't even budge.
But I was taught, not to waste emotions on frustration, but to conquer it's reasons! On one side I hate his solid self-control and his stubborn resistance to my provocating charms. Men can behave like donkeys if a woman takes the advantage to seducement, but they act like raving lunatics if they are in their own command! On the other hand I consider this as a very valuable quality that I would make condition to anyone of my court! And as I have learned from Amarsis: »A quality has to be honoured to persist!« A sharp pang of pain stings my heart because of our sudden separation, but I'm confident in this stage of my life, that I will meet my best friend soon again!
Since the awakening of my sexual senses my body longs for contact and intimacy, that's a fact! I don't share my fathers view, that the fulfilment of the afterlife is the reason to stress out in this one. What rational woman would believe that crap? All the abracadabra with sexy clay puppets could not convince me about the sincerity of those unwarranted promises. And I'm deeply disgusted about the pharaonic habit to rob the whole country and bury the treasure for some cunning grave plunderers, mostly our greedy priests anyway, whilst the c***dren are starving, the women are abused and humiliated, and the enemy slowly creeps up into the holy valley!
Massimo stops at a dirty little waterhole to let his horse have a sip. I jump off and without inhibition I lift my tunic up to my waist - and I am sure to hear a steamy hissing noise as I dip my burning hot bottom into the cool water! But Massimo just towers on his horse as he would have been born up there! He is a man, and their buttocks seem to be made of leather! And I am sure that they would rather die than to reveal their pain to a woman!
But as if he could read my mind he dismounts and sits down under a scrawny palmtree to sip some wine. He just laughs and rolls his eyes in utter disbelief of my funny indisposition, but he watches my ritual with interest, as if I would be an unknown species from another star. Then he waves me to him and pulls me over his lap, like one does for a good spanking! He gropes in his bag for some sweet dried figs and some strange looking cactus, which he breaks open to soothe the inflamed skin of my bottom with the cooling jelly. That feels wonderful and I wish that he just wouldn't stop caressing me, but the intimate touch finally seems to have excited his manhood for good, then his stubborn manhood pokes already very demanding into my belly! Aware of this embarrassment he indicates with a couple of little slaps the end of the tender treatment.
Massimo helps me onto the horse again, and as he could had really read my thoughts the day before he pushes me forward over the horses neck and pulls my hips up. Then he drives the horse into a slow trot and to my utmost delight I can feel his snake probing at my fire-flower. The rhythm of the horses trot drives it in, deeper and deeper, and the sensation is just unbelievable! It must be so massive and long, and it stretches the sensual tissue of my oyster to the point of bursting as it slowly fills me up to the top. But before our delicious business can even get into full swing he suddenly pulls out with a mighty groan and falls backwards from the horse. My blood freezes up instantly but I manage to stop the heavy a****l at once.
I slide from its back and run to Massimo that lays strangely twisted on the ground, a huge arrow protruding out of his broad back. He grunts in pain and stutters as I turn him over and lift his head into my lap: »Massimo love Wyralla! Massimo body stay here but heart stay with Wyralla! Wyralla heart of butter, not of stone! Wyralla shine!« Then he shudders and his translucent soul leaves the lost body like a light blue gas flame. The tears of sadness and loss flood my heart and my nose clogs up as I close his eyes and kiss him fare-well on the forehead. He looks so unbelievable peaceful in my arms as he could never have killed a fly!
But then my time of grieving is terminated because I hear the horse of the bloody killer approach behind me. »Man fucking boy no good! Ching must kill!«, brabbles the ugly slit-eyed Mongolian from above. A blood-red scar runs over the milky-white skin of his left cheek and his thin mean lips could have been cut with a razor blade. His wild and wiry kohl-black mane seems as untamable as his uncompromising character and his thin long moustache vibrates nervously. Even his dangerously curved broad sword gleams in the golden sunlight with such determination as it wouldn't accept any contradiction at all!
»Why did you have to do that, you savage brute!«, I yell at him furious in anger and out of the corner of my eye I see Massimos horse trotting back to the waterhole. It is my only hope of escape, so I start a desperate dash. But the Mongole is already swinging a long thin rope with a metal ring at its end over his head, and as he lets it fly it just curls around my ankles and stops me in full flight! The Mongole loads me over the back of his horse as I would be just a bag of barley, and then he spurs it on.
My bottom is riding high in the air and simply from gravity the hem of my skimpy tunic has bared my bottom already to the harsh desert sun as well as to the mean slit eyes of my k**napper. And he will know very well from his superior dominating perspective, that I'm for sure not a boy, but he wouldn't let me go! But brutes don't speak much with their prey - their leaden silence portrays strongly their inner shame about the disgusting habit, that such proud strong men have to earn their living with m*****ing little girls like me!
And after a good while the heartless captivator even drums a stupid rhythm onto my sunburned cheeks to make them redden and wobble even faster. But, who ever initialised this humiliating adventure against the godly will of Isis will have to pay for it dearly! I'm furious, then just when I'm starting to feel like a real woman I'm treated like a little girl again!
I'm very upset, and I can imagine my angry flower producing soapy bubbles! The blood fills my brain and my head gets hot. All I can see are the pounding hoofs of the a****l under me, a huge dust cloud in the back, and in the front the appearing white walls of a fortified Oasis, glowing orange in the warm light of the setting sun. And as we approach the fortress the double doors open like magic for us and close heavily right behind us.
Ching unravels the rope from my ankles and pushes me through the main entrance in a spacious bright room. The fat slob of a landlord is sprawled relaxed like a pasha upon a heap of lush pillows. He plays with the joy stick of a small black slave boy that wears nothing more than two golden earrings and is certainly well aroused, as I can perceive by the sheer size of his cherished dagger!
»What a lovely little boy we got here - please undress!«, the fat slob addresses me with a malignant grin. But because I don't react to this bold demand, he nods to the Mongolian behind me, who strips me naked without any hesitation.
»Good job, Ching!«, the Sheik booms and throws him a heavy leather pouch as a well-earned reward. He manages to lift his corpulent mass out of the soft mountain of cushions and approaches me: »What a precious gift from Allah: the last princess of Egypt! Welcome in the humble quarters of Sheik Habib, you naughty girl - the indecent tales of your journey spread faster than the desert wind can carry them! But nevertheless, I will take you as my first wife tonight, and together we will travel to Egypt, where I will rule that miserable country till I die!«
»Only over my dead body, I will never marry you, you bloody murderer!« I spit back in anger, but the Sheik doesn't flinch. »Oh oh, so much noble defiance! What a pleasure to break this stubborn little mind!«, he mocks me as he pulls the tasselled rope from his robe to bind my wrists with it. »But I shall not whip your buttocks for your indignant resistance, then there are other methods to get your consent to my generous proposal!«
»What happened to my sisters?«, I want to know, but I can imagine the tragedy of his answer already! And the gloating Sheik seems to be keen to share his knowledge with me: »... strangled by a very ambitious guardian with great aspirations - surely after he took the best advantage of their tight royal virginities!« The ugly picture of Massak troubles my mind - and once again I could kill the brutal ogre with my bare little hands!
»And what happened to my father?«, I ask the Sheik as he pushes me backwards and over an inset piss bowl in the floor. »Ah, the wimp of a king - poisoned by the own harem with snake venom, I heard - how funnily fitting for a pharaoh killer! Ha!« He stuffs the rope through an iron ring, dangling on a heavy chain from the high ceiling, and he pulls me up in a stretch, my feet wide apart. His black robe falls apart and his massive plum-headed monster smirks up at me. »Not much on you though, Mongrel!«, he sneers quite disinterested as he boldly fondles my flower with his fat fingers.
I want to deter him with my powerful beam of light from further insults, but the horny Habib is already behind me, caressing my bottom with passionate admiration whilst exclaiming: »But then, what a tight little arse we have here - what a joyful pleasure it will be for me to pay my reverence to that royal temple!« I'm deeply ashamed as he pulls my buttocks far apart with eager fingers to inspect the hidden goods, and to make his indecent intentions clear. And I'm even more unsettled as the lewd man kisses the little frightened rose of my back door and licks it with his hairy tongue!
»You're doomed if you intercept with the divine plannings of the mighty Isis!«, I want to assure the lecher, but he just laughs at me and giggles: »You will change your mind soon, pretty Princess, and then we will have a lot of fun together!« I can't really picture that promiscuous promise, but then a veiled woman enters the room, carrying a big pot.
«Ah, the new wine, fantastic! Prepare the Princess for the wedding night, Kundali, just wetten her appetite but don't dare to let her spend, unless you want your pretty ass whipped for good! And, don't let her water go to waste - you know, how much such a sweet treat excites me!« With this rude words the heavy Sheik falls back into the heap of pillows, where the naked black boy is still waiting for him with a fine erection. The sight makes me feel a bit weak and dizzy, and I'm quite sure that a mouthful of his power milk would strengthen my condition. But I know that the greedy Habib wouldn't even think about sharing that precious potion with me!
The woman named Kundali turns to me and begins slowly the rotating dance of seduction. She unveils her face and I'm surprised how young and absolutely beautiful she is! Her full pouting lips move like two blood-red river slugs, making love together with each smile on a bed of perfect white pearls, and her almond eyes glow with the sultry passion only a woman can display. Her ebony hair is tied to a knot on top of her head and only a dozen tiny plaits are flying freely as she turns around her axis.
Another veil falls to expose the lovely swell of her stubby ripe breasts, tipped by mouth-watering sultanas - just begging to be teased and squeezed! Then she exposes a full bottom that looks like the two half moons of Mars in love position, but doesn't deny me the fading red marks of frequent harsh punishment. And I shiver by the sheer thought of it, a rush of hot blood floods my flower and my buttocks clench in anticipating.
Her lush pubic bush sits between her trim brown thighs, so warm and cosy like a sleeping kitten, and a thin strip of the curly dark hair reaches nearly up to her round belly-button, where a black pearl gleams mystically in the flickering light of the flaring flames of the many torches on the white-washed mudbrick walls.
The prickling feeling of love wells up from deep in my bosom, and I would like to rip my bonds to shreds to attack her ravishing beauty with my own tenderness. But Kundali just goes down onto her knees in front of me like a obedient servant. She inspects my flower by pulling the soft petals apart, and she fingers the tiny pistil of joy with such cunning routine that I begin to shake in my restraint. She massages the hungry little worm slowly to the size of a tiny penis before she finally puts her hot mouth onto it.
The kiss of the yoni*, I recall Amarsis' words clearly, but only now the words get their meaning, and that mighty intense!
*(To describe this rather difficult expression the inventive Sésostris uses an absolutely new symbol, drawn in the exquisite shape of the aroused female genitals as depicted on the flat paddle-dolls that were put into the tombs of the pharaohs to provide the dead king with a live-like inspiration for his erotic needs in the after-world.)
My knees start to grow wobbly and the juices I discharge are simply unstoppable. I feel like being eaten alive as Kundali's sucking and nibbling gets noisier by the time. I'm floating just beneath the surface of the dark sea of ecstasy, ready to emerge into the light of bliss. But whenever I grind my frustrated flower into her mouth, urging for relief, she pulls back, smiles and licks her luscious lips salaciously. Then she moves away from me to fill the masters cup again, who fills his guts greedily with the sweet liquid.
I'm dripping wet between my legs and my tiny penis seems to burst from the prolonged attention of this gorgeous woman. And the whole time the Sheiks black eyes are on mine, waiting for the collapse of my stubborn resistance and my begging for penetration, as he sucks his slave and his slave sucks him in turn. The fire in my belly spreads into the whole of my trembling body and I seem to burn like cinder as Kundali works away with the determination to hold me on that pre-orgasmic high forever.
But the huge black Sheik just throws his malignant grin into my red-hot glowing face that stings like a cup of warm piss as he mounts the little boy from behind, to show me exactly what crude rituals I have to expect from him in our future married life. The spectacle is as obscene in the sheer physical difference of the two participants as it is in the contrast of the grunts of pleasure of the riding elephant to the under-dogs whimpers of pain! I close my eyes with dignity above this dreadful debauchery, but that only intensifies the roaring feelings inside!
Now I really heat up, my skin threatens to peel from my sweltering flesh and I come so close to the icy wave of extinction that every muscle of my body begins to tighten. Kundali but just goes up again to serve her master with more wine. He seems to be pleased with her efforts but he promises her a good flogging if she should fail to make me pliable soon to his perverted needs. I don't know how much longer I can endure the sexual torture as the temperature rises once more to the boiling point as the lovely Kundali chews up my inflamed oyster once more.
If I only could faint! The imagination of a fat dick roaming up my back soon and splitting my young body in halfs sits so persistent and colourful in my mind that even the pain and the humiliation seems to be real! And I realise suddenly the vacuum in my rectum that hurts me even more than that he could possibly do! And yet again I grind my smelly oyster into Kundalis teeth, desperate for the purgatory nightmare to end.
And I'm quite shocked that my beautiful tormentress doesn't control her tortuous titillation this time and I fear the worst for her! But sobbing and wincing I greet the exploding fireball with gratitude, I grow as stiff as a scare-crow as the high current of the blinding lightening hits me and the quaking tremor of the thunder rolls ear-shattering through my highly sensitised nervous system.
But then I begin to hear another noise that doesn't come from me, and as I open my eyes to reality I see the Sheik snoring on the pillows and his little lover deep asleep at his side. Kundali holds me in a very tight embrace and kisses the hot tears of joy from my dry reddened cheeks as I ride out the endless tidal waves of the onslaught of bliss . . .
My friend stirs and starts to moan - she wakes up and smiles slyly at me: »Want to do it again, lovely Princess?« But as much I could be tempted to do so, I know that I have to move on. So I say: »As soon as I get home I will send for you, Zuleida, and then we can indulge further in our oh so special friendship. But for now, do just grant me one only favour! There is a restless curiosity in me that I would like to have satisfied: Would you kindly let me taste your sweet milk, my friend - that its power will give me the strength for the day!«
»Oh, I would die from shame, my dear Princess, this does not fit!«, she exclaims with utter indignation, but she laughs like a bell as I labour away with hands and mouth to deserve my early breakfast. And I'm astonished by the sweet humbleness of the feeling of subjection to another ones joy, and I marvel at this wonder of anatomy, this nearly impossible mixture of the muscular strength of the long veined stem and the absolute softness of the ripe fruit on top - it is a real experience to explore that magic object of desire with a sensitive tongue!
But I enjoy the bliss of the reward for my loving devotion as well - my flower opens gratefully to her tender treatment: Her fingers work sparkling wonders between the velvet petals and our lust rises in elegant unison again. The boy comes in with a bowl of clean water on his arms, but now he has to wait! And, unable this time to hide his admiration for me his short tunic rises, and so exposes his lovely little dagger to my lusty gaze. Our eyes stay fixed as I perform my initial task, and I can read jealousy in his eyes.
I look back without regrets to the years of boring abstinence in the royal harem - and I thank Hapi for my easy escape again! And on the very brink of my own ecstasy I feel Zuleidas warm fluid streaming up from their tiny round reservoirs and filling my mouth in delicious little squirts. The juice tastes as fresh as the sauce made from young white mushrooms and the little nuts of the tall pine trees - I'm all in heaven as the unique and delicious aroma hits my sensitive palate and the powerful orgasm explodes simultaneously in my groin, like genuine Chinese firework!
Zuleida laughs and cries from sheer pleasure, she shudders and shakes as she presses me to her soft bosom and kisses her own comings from my lips. Then she washes me again with the relentlessness of her womanly tenderness. She waves the excited young man closer and simply undresses him. I wonder about the reason of the erotic act of unveiling his charms completely - he is certainly a well-proportioned species that would suit my rather spoiled taste buds well, I can imagine! But the boy seems deeply embarrassed about my unhidden interest in his lovely little dagger and the potent juice it may produce - he retires quick and blushing-red.
Zuleida dresses me in his simple brown tunic that suits my slender form well. And with my short regrowth of hair it makes for a clever disguise! The little boy arrives again, dressed with a cute mini skirt, to inform us, that Massimo is ready. And in deed: The huge man thrones already high on his horse as the majestic Adulla gives him the last instructions.
As he sees me in my dress he puts a huge smile on his face and booms: »What a fine boy Wyralla makes! And how it hurts my heart to have to part from him so soon!« Then he blesses me well for my ambitious journey. But he warns me sternly about the danger of the time, when stealing princesses provides a profitable business for every crude crook! He hugs me with fatherly support and pinches my taut royal buttocks with real connoissance.
His daughter embraces me with unusual intensive warmth as the salty tears of separation roll down her cheeks. Then Adulla helps me onto the horse and kisses my foot with true respect. »Only with you will Zuleida have a better live than with me! She will be my present to your immortal beauty, Lady Wyralla!«, he says so cheekily, as if he had read the content of our private conversations in the stars of last night.
The heavy horse snorts wild and rises up dangerously high on his back legs. And then it jumps forward and speeds up into a thundering stride. Crippled bushes and withered rock formations fly past us in a haste, like the autumn wind blows the fallen leaves. Massimo seems to be in a good mood and he hums a happy little melody as the landscape flattens out again into a boresome and completely uneventful hot pan cake. His tunes sound quite familiar to me, and I start to sing a fitting lullaby along with it, until we both crack up in laughter about our unintended disharmonies - and the horse seems confused.
After a while he even tries to talk to me in his funnily strange accent: »Lord Adulla tell Massimo: Wyralla woman, not baby! Massimo servant of Wyralla woman!« And then he roars a hefty laugh and slaps me friendly onto the naked thigh!
I know that I'm in good hands with him and as the hours run like sand through the fingers of time the golden sun heatens the hidden desires. Since a long time I fell Massimos snake pressing stubbornly into the small of my back and my bum burns like fire. I tell him to stop for a drink of wine and a short rest on the horses neck. And I remember with hotly up-welling regret, how shamelessly I exposed my most intimate parts to him yesterday to the purpose of gaining personal pleasure. I presented him with such a sight that would drive even the strongest man into a fiery frenzy, but he didn't even budge.
But I was taught, not to waste emotions on frustration, but to conquer it's reasons! On one side I hate his solid self-control and his stubborn resistance to my provocating charms. Men can behave like donkeys if a woman takes the advantage to seducement, but they act like raving lunatics if they are in their own command! On the other hand I consider this as a very valuable quality that I would make condition to anyone of my court! And as I have learned from Amarsis: »A quality has to be honoured to persist!« A sharp pang of pain stings my heart because of our sudden separation, but I'm confident in this stage of my life, that I will meet my best friend soon again!
Since the awakening of my sexual senses my body longs for contact and intimacy, that's a fact! I don't share my fathers view, that the fulfilment of the afterlife is the reason to stress out in this one. What rational woman would believe that crap? All the abracadabra with sexy clay puppets could not convince me about the sincerity of those unwarranted promises. And I'm deeply disgusted about the pharaonic habit to rob the whole country and bury the treasure for some cunning grave plunderers, mostly our greedy priests anyway, whilst the c***dren are starving, the women are abused and humiliated, and the enemy slowly creeps up into the holy valley!
Massimo stops at a dirty little waterhole to let his horse have a sip. I jump off and without inhibition I lift my tunic up to my waist - and I am sure to hear a steamy hissing noise as I dip my burning hot bottom into the cool water! But Massimo just towers on his horse as he would have been born up there! He is a man, and their buttocks seem to be made of leather! And I am sure that they would rather die than to reveal their pain to a woman!
But as if he could read my mind he dismounts and sits down under a scrawny palmtree to sip some wine. He just laughs and rolls his eyes in utter disbelief of my funny indisposition, but he watches my ritual with interest, as if I would be an unknown species from another star. Then he waves me to him and pulls me over his lap, like one does for a good spanking! He gropes in his bag for some sweet dried figs and some strange looking cactus, which he breaks open to soothe the inflamed skin of my bottom with the cooling jelly. That feels wonderful and I wish that he just wouldn't stop caressing me, but the intimate touch finally seems to have excited his manhood for good, then his stubborn manhood pokes already very demanding into my belly! Aware of this embarrassment he indicates with a couple of little slaps the end of the tender treatment.
Massimo helps me onto the horse again, and as he could had really read my thoughts the day before he pushes me forward over the horses neck and pulls my hips up. Then he drives the horse into a slow trot and to my utmost delight I can feel his snake probing at my fire-flower. The rhythm of the horses trot drives it in, deeper and deeper, and the sensation is just unbelievable! It must be so massive and long, and it stretches the sensual tissue of my oyster to the point of bursting as it slowly fills me up to the top. But before our delicious business can even get into full swing he suddenly pulls out with a mighty groan and falls backwards from the horse. My blood freezes up instantly but I manage to stop the heavy a****l at once.
I slide from its back and run to Massimo that lays strangely twisted on the ground, a huge arrow protruding out of his broad back. He grunts in pain and stutters as I turn him over and lift his head into my lap: »Massimo love Wyralla! Massimo body stay here but heart stay with Wyralla! Wyralla heart of butter, not of stone! Wyralla shine!« Then he shudders and his translucent soul leaves the lost body like a light blue gas flame. The tears of sadness and loss flood my heart and my nose clogs up as I close his eyes and kiss him fare-well on the forehead. He looks so unbelievable peaceful in my arms as he could never have killed a fly!
But then my time of grieving is terminated because I hear the horse of the bloody killer approach behind me. »Man fucking boy no good! Ching must kill!«, brabbles the ugly slit-eyed Mongolian from above. A blood-red scar runs over the milky-white skin of his left cheek and his thin mean lips could have been cut with a razor blade. His wild and wiry kohl-black mane seems as untamable as his uncompromising character and his thin long moustache vibrates nervously. Even his dangerously curved broad sword gleams in the golden sunlight with such determination as it wouldn't accept any contradiction at all!
»Why did you have to do that, you savage brute!«, I yell at him furious in anger and out of the corner of my eye I see Massimos horse trotting back to the waterhole. It is my only hope of escape, so I start a desperate dash. But the Mongole is already swinging a long thin rope with a metal ring at its end over his head, and as he lets it fly it just curls around my ankles and stops me in full flight! The Mongole loads me over the back of his horse as I would be just a bag of barley, and then he spurs it on.
My bottom is riding high in the air and simply from gravity the hem of my skimpy tunic has bared my bottom already to the harsh desert sun as well as to the mean slit eyes of my k**napper. And he will know very well from his superior dominating perspective, that I'm for sure not a boy, but he wouldn't let me go! But brutes don't speak much with their prey - their leaden silence portrays strongly their inner shame about the disgusting habit, that such proud strong men have to earn their living with m*****ing little girls like me!
And after a good while the heartless captivator even drums a stupid rhythm onto my sunburned cheeks to make them redden and wobble even faster. But, who ever initialised this humiliating adventure against the godly will of Isis will have to pay for it dearly! I'm furious, then just when I'm starting to feel like a real woman I'm treated like a little girl again!
I'm very upset, and I can imagine my angry flower producing soapy bubbles! The blood fills my brain and my head gets hot. All I can see are the pounding hoofs of the a****l under me, a huge dust cloud in the back, and in the front the appearing white walls of a fortified Oasis, glowing orange in the warm light of the setting sun. And as we approach the fortress the double doors open like magic for us and close heavily right behind us.
Ching unravels the rope from my ankles and pushes me through the main entrance in a spacious bright room. The fat slob of a landlord is sprawled relaxed like a pasha upon a heap of lush pillows. He plays with the joy stick of a small black slave boy that wears nothing more than two golden earrings and is certainly well aroused, as I can perceive by the sheer size of his cherished dagger!
»What a lovely little boy we got here - please undress!«, the fat slob addresses me with a malignant grin. But because I don't react to this bold demand, he nods to the Mongolian behind me, who strips me naked without any hesitation.
»Good job, Ching!«, the Sheik booms and throws him a heavy leather pouch as a well-earned reward. He manages to lift his corpulent mass out of the soft mountain of cushions and approaches me: »What a precious gift from Allah: the last princess of Egypt! Welcome in the humble quarters of Sheik Habib, you naughty girl - the indecent tales of your journey spread faster than the desert wind can carry them! But nevertheless, I will take you as my first wife tonight, and together we will travel to Egypt, where I will rule that miserable country till I die!«
»Only over my dead body, I will never marry you, you bloody murderer!« I spit back in anger, but the Sheik doesn't flinch. »Oh oh, so much noble defiance! What a pleasure to break this stubborn little mind!«, he mocks me as he pulls the tasselled rope from his robe to bind my wrists with it. »But I shall not whip your buttocks for your indignant resistance, then there are other methods to get your consent to my generous proposal!«
»What happened to my sisters?«, I want to know, but I can imagine the tragedy of his answer already! And the gloating Sheik seems to be keen to share his knowledge with me: »... strangled by a very ambitious guardian with great aspirations - surely after he took the best advantage of their tight royal virginities!« The ugly picture of Massak troubles my mind - and once again I could kill the brutal ogre with my bare little hands!
»And what happened to my father?«, I ask the Sheik as he pushes me backwards and over an inset piss bowl in the floor. »Ah, the wimp of a king - poisoned by the own harem with snake venom, I heard - how funnily fitting for a pharaoh killer! Ha!« He stuffs the rope through an iron ring, dangling on a heavy chain from the high ceiling, and he pulls me up in a stretch, my feet wide apart. His black robe falls apart and his massive plum-headed monster smirks up at me. »Not much on you though, Mongrel!«, he sneers quite disinterested as he boldly fondles my flower with his fat fingers.
I want to deter him with my powerful beam of light from further insults, but the horny Habib is already behind me, caressing my bottom with passionate admiration whilst exclaiming: »But then, what a tight little arse we have here - what a joyful pleasure it will be for me to pay my reverence to that royal temple!« I'm deeply ashamed as he pulls my buttocks far apart with eager fingers to inspect the hidden goods, and to make his indecent intentions clear. And I'm even more unsettled as the lewd man kisses the little frightened rose of my back door and licks it with his hairy tongue!
»You're doomed if you intercept with the divine plannings of the mighty Isis!«, I want to assure the lecher, but he just laughs at me and giggles: »You will change your mind soon, pretty Princess, and then we will have a lot of fun together!« I can't really picture that promiscuous promise, but then a veiled woman enters the room, carrying a big pot.
«Ah, the new wine, fantastic! Prepare the Princess for the wedding night, Kundali, just wetten her appetite but don't dare to let her spend, unless you want your pretty ass whipped for good! And, don't let her water go to waste - you know, how much such a sweet treat excites me!« With this rude words the heavy Sheik falls back into the heap of pillows, where the naked black boy is still waiting for him with a fine erection. The sight makes me feel a bit weak and dizzy, and I'm quite sure that a mouthful of his power milk would strengthen my condition. But I know that the greedy Habib wouldn't even think about sharing that precious potion with me!
The woman named Kundali turns to me and begins slowly the rotating dance of seduction. She unveils her face and I'm surprised how young and absolutely beautiful she is! Her full pouting lips move like two blood-red river slugs, making love together with each smile on a bed of perfect white pearls, and her almond eyes glow with the sultry passion only a woman can display. Her ebony hair is tied to a knot on top of her head and only a dozen tiny plaits are flying freely as she turns around her axis.
Another veil falls to expose the lovely swell of her stubby ripe breasts, tipped by mouth-watering sultanas - just begging to be teased and squeezed! Then she exposes a full bottom that looks like the two half moons of Mars in love position, but doesn't deny me the fading red marks of frequent harsh punishment. And I shiver by the sheer thought of it, a rush of hot blood floods my flower and my buttocks clench in anticipating.
Her lush pubic bush sits between her trim brown thighs, so warm and cosy like a sleeping kitten, and a thin strip of the curly dark hair reaches nearly up to her round belly-button, where a black pearl gleams mystically in the flickering light of the flaring flames of the many torches on the white-washed mudbrick walls.
The prickling feeling of love wells up from deep in my bosom, and I would like to rip my bonds to shreds to attack her ravishing beauty with my own tenderness. But Kundali just goes down onto her knees in front of me like a obedient servant. She inspects my flower by pulling the soft petals apart, and she fingers the tiny pistil of joy with such cunning routine that I begin to shake in my restraint. She massages the hungry little worm slowly to the size of a tiny penis before she finally puts her hot mouth onto it.
The kiss of the yoni*, I recall Amarsis' words clearly, but only now the words get their meaning, and that mighty intense!
*(To describe this rather difficult expression the inventive Sésostris uses an absolutely new symbol, drawn in the exquisite shape of the aroused female genitals as depicted on the flat paddle-dolls that were put into the tombs of the pharaohs to provide the dead king with a live-like inspiration for his erotic needs in the after-world.)
My knees start to grow wobbly and the juices I discharge are simply unstoppable. I feel like being eaten alive as Kundali's sucking and nibbling gets noisier by the time. I'm floating just beneath the surface of the dark sea of ecstasy, ready to emerge into the light of bliss. But whenever I grind my frustrated flower into her mouth, urging for relief, she pulls back, smiles and licks her luscious lips salaciously. Then she moves away from me to fill the masters cup again, who fills his guts greedily with the sweet liquid.
I'm dripping wet between my legs and my tiny penis seems to burst from the prolonged attention of this gorgeous woman. And the whole time the Sheiks black eyes are on mine, waiting for the collapse of my stubborn resistance and my begging for penetration, as he sucks his slave and his slave sucks him in turn. The fire in my belly spreads into the whole of my trembling body and I seem to burn like cinder as Kundali works away with the determination to hold me on that pre-orgasmic high forever.
But the huge black Sheik just throws his malignant grin into my red-hot glowing face that stings like a cup of warm piss as he mounts the little boy from behind, to show me exactly what crude rituals I have to expect from him in our future married life. The spectacle is as obscene in the sheer physical difference of the two participants as it is in the contrast of the grunts of pleasure of the riding elephant to the under-dogs whimpers of pain! I close my eyes with dignity above this dreadful debauchery, but that only intensifies the roaring feelings inside!
Now I really heat up, my skin threatens to peel from my sweltering flesh and I come so close to the icy wave of extinction that every muscle of my body begins to tighten. Kundali but just goes up again to serve her master with more wine. He seems to be pleased with her efforts but he promises her a good flogging if she should fail to make me pliable soon to his perverted needs. I don't know how much longer I can endure the sexual torture as the temperature rises once more to the boiling point as the lovely Kundali chews up my inflamed oyster once more.
If I only could faint! The imagination of a fat dick roaming up my back soon and splitting my young body in halfs sits so persistent and colourful in my mind that even the pain and the humiliation seems to be real! And I realise suddenly the vacuum in my rectum that hurts me even more than that he could possibly do! And yet again I grind my smelly oyster into Kundalis teeth, desperate for the purgatory nightmare to end.
And I'm quite shocked that my beautiful tormentress doesn't control her tortuous titillation this time and I fear the worst for her! But sobbing and wincing I greet the exploding fireball with gratitude, I grow as stiff as a scare-crow as the high current of the blinding lightening hits me and the quaking tremor of the thunder rolls ear-shattering through my highly sensitised nervous system.
But then I begin to hear another noise that doesn't come from me, and as I open my eyes to reality I see the Sheik snoring on the pillows and his little lover deep asleep at his side. Kundali holds me in a very tight embrace and kisses the hot tears of joy from my dry reddened cheeks as I ride out the endless tidal waves of the onslaught of bliss . . .
Kierra
- 03.11.2020
- 11
- 0
