Glade and Ivory Ch 16
- 2 years ago
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The voyage north that Glade would make across the Great Sea wasn’t one she’d planned and most definitely not one she would have chosen, although it was true that she and Demure had often sat together on the shore and looked over a sea that stretched towards the North rather than the West. And they’d often speculated whether this water stretched to the very end of the world or whether there might be land beyond.
‘The further North we go,’ observed Glade, ‘the further we are from the Sun. And the further away the Sun, the cooler it is. If we travelled across the sea it would just get colder and colder.’
‘No one would want to live where it’s colder than even here,’ said Demure, shivering under the deer-skin that covered her shoulders even though it was now Spring. ‘Perhaps the sea has no other shore. Perhaps it goes on forever.’
‘So where do the ice floes come from?’
Demure shook her head. ‘Perhaps it’s so cold that the sea turns to ice,’ she ventured.
The lovers were now living together with a tribe of Raft People who tolerated the women’s presence in their village for as long as they were willing to provide sexual services whenever requested. This was a tribe with a fairly relaxed attitude towards life. They were generally communal in all that they consumed, whether it was food, drink or sex. Like Glade’s own tribe, it was a community of mutual sharing. There was no concept of private property, private life or even privacy.
This openness and generosity was possible because the tribe lived in a region of great bounty. There was fruit from the tree, flesh from the migrating herds of deer and antelope, and, as a result of the tribe’s expertise at fishing from rafts, no shortage of food from the sea.
Initially Demure found life amongst this tribe rather disconcerting. All her life she was accustomed to taking advantage of other people’s weaknesses and here were people whose weaknesses she didn’t know how to exploit. They had no understanding of status. They had no concept of ownership or privilege. Her attempts to gain advantage over other people were met with incomprehension. But eventually even she relaxed. If her talent at manipulation wasn’t going to get her anywhere then perhaps it was better if she didn’t even try.
Glade was more at home although she still missed the warmth of the South and the shelter of the Forest. She revelled in the license to fuck and the generosity of a people who had plenty to eat and plenty to spare. She became skilled at using the rafts the tribe employed to such advantage and passed on as much of her knowledge as she could to Demure for whom laziness was her chief obstacle to learning. Glade’s lover was naturally intelligent, even if her aptitude was most often manifest as deviousness and cunning. Soon enough she also had sufficient skill at handling the rafts to make a useful contribution to food-gathering which in turn ensured that the lovers’ presence could continue to be tolerated.
Glade soon discovered that rafting wasn’t as simple as just pushing the raft onto the sea’s surface. There was skill involved in making a raft behave. One could use sticks with flattened ends that could steer the raft in any direction. There was a variety of sticks to use. Some were employed to spear fish, some to paddle the raft and others to navigate shallow waters. It was also advisable to carry aboard a thin canvass of deer or antelope hide which, supported on a framework of sticks tied together by sinews, could catch the breeze and manoeuvre the raft out to sea where there was a greater haul of fish.
There were many other skills associated with using a raft at which the Raft People were expert, such as how the raft was constructed and how fish were caught. This last employed the art of weaving together intricate nets from sinews and reeds which could be used to catch many fish at once. The Raft People were ingenious in many other ways. They came up with novel and sometimes surprising solutions to the problem of how to capture the fruit of the sea. Sometimes they followed flocks of sea-birds to where they congregated above a great harvest of small fish. Sometimes they left woven baskets on the shore to capture lobsters and crabs when the tide was high. There was always plenty of game and fruits to harvest on the days when the sea was too rough for even the hardiest fisherman.
Glade and Demure became almost complacent. Perchance now, at last, they wouldn’t one day need to set off again in pursuit of a new home when the goodwill of their hosts was exhausted. Perhaps the two women could simply settle together as a couple unusual more for their intimate closeness than for their sexual predilection.
Perhaps they could grow old together.
But, inevitably, this was not to be.
——————————
Ivory also had to adjust to unwelcome change. Although she missed Glade terribly, she was kept too occupied during the day to fall victim to depression. At night she was distracted by Ptarmigan’s relatively innocuous fondling. Although she’d expected Glade and the chief to be away for more than a couple of days, it was now a quarter the way through the moon’s cycle and the expedition had still not returned. With most senior tribesmen accompanying Chief Cave Lion, Ivory felt distinctly vulnerable when she heard that the Mammoth Hunters were no longer alone in the valley.
‘What shall we do?’ Ptarmigan asked anxiously when this news was brought to them by Leopard, a young man whose voice had barely broken.
‘We should chase the invaders away!’ gruffly insisted Grey Wolf, the most senior hunter left behind.
Ivory wondered what Glade would say on this occasion. ‘How many of these strangers are there?’ she asked.
‘I saw only five or six,’ said Leopard. ‘I don’t think there are more.’
‘Even so, few can be a danger,’ insisted Grey Wolf. ‘Perhaps we should kill them.’
‘That’s not right,’ said Ivory with alarm. ‘Only if the strangers mean us harm should we kill them. If we were to kill them for other reasons, their spirits will curse us. It is imperative that we don’t bring evil onto our tribe.’
‘So what do we do?’ said Grey Wolf who huffily accepted the received wisdom of the shaman’s apprentice. ‘We can’t have two tribes living together in this valley. There’s barely enough space for us.’
‘We should speak to them,’ said Ivory. She thought back to Glade’s own way of reasoning. Was there some advantage that an act of kindness could bring to the tribe? ‘Maybe they can help us find a way out of this valley. After all, they may know this area better than we do.’
Alas, Ivory’s hopes were unfounded. The six strangers consisted of only one adult man and the others were women and children. Like Ivory’s tribe they were also lost and, judging by how gaunt they were, no more expert at finding food and sustenance. However, it was difficult to be sure of anything about them beyond their pathetic gratitude at not being killed by Ivory’s more numerous kindred. They didn’t speak a language that resembled hers. They looked distinctly alien. Their skin was darker than Ivory’s but nowhere near as dark as Glade’s. Their noses were flat and broad, their hair was light brown and curly, their ears were small, and they were relatively short. And about their shoulders they wore relatively thin ibex-skin furs.
Nevertheless, after the strangers prostrated themselves abjectly on the ground and begged tearfully for their safety in a language that combined clicks, growls and a phlegmy grunt, it was impossible for Ivory not to feel some responsibility for their welfare. Ptarmigan who was more used than anyone to being an outsider in the community instantly petitioned for the strangers to stay. Grey Wolf immediately offered a voice of caution.
‘We have to look after our own first,’ he said bluntly. ‘We have no need for more mouths to feed. The chief wouldn’t allow our meagre resources to be so casually shar
ed.’
‘We should wait until my husband arrives and see what he says,’ said Ptarmigan with uncharacteristic firmness.
‘As you wish,’ Grey Wolf conceded reluctantly.
Ivory sighed. She wasn’t convinced that her generosity towards these harmless foreigners was such a good idea. She may have spared the tribe the wrath of unjustly slaughtered souls, but she had burdened them with more mouths to feed that could well prove to be a liability as resources became increasingly scarce.
——————————
At first, the Raft People had only one alien visitor to contend with. He was a swarthy, stocky man dressed in stitched-together rabbit skin, his genitals and upper thigh obscured by a short skirt, and he wore a headdress fashioned from the skull of a baboon onto which antelope horns were attached. It was difficult to interpret the expression on his face as it was heavily tattooed with an abstract swirling figure and his words, spoken in a language that even Glade didn’t recognise, was more or less incomprehensible.
However, he seemed harmless. He stayed for a couple of days as a guest in the village where he fucked a few women and consented to being fucked by one of the men, though it wasn’t apparent that this was his normal preference. He learned a few words of greeting and departed the village on relatively amenable terms. In fact, the Raft People were almost sad to see him go. He had an easy laugh and his cock was of good length and thickness.
Less than a moon later, he returned and this time he was in the company of several other men and an equal number of women. This time he wasn’t so welcome. Although he and his companions were happy to share in the village’s generosity, they didn’t participate in the duty of providing the village with the food they so obviously enjoyed eating. The easy humour and laughter that had made the baboon man such pleasant company was less attractive when it came from a group of people who sat and joked together and made little attempt to communicate with their hosts.
The other men were of the same stocky, swarthy build as the baboon man and were mostly identifiable by the skulls they wore on their heads, such as quagga, hyena and antelope. Their faces were also heavily tattooed. The women covered their heads with stitched-together rabbit-skins as was the rest of their dress, but this was arranged such that the bosom and crotch were displayed at the front, but the buttocks covered at the rear.
The men and women kept themselves apart from each other, although Glade noted that this sexual apartheid was not as extreme as that practised by Demure’s tribe. All the same, there was a curious double standard whereby the men were at license to fuck the women and sometimes the men of the host village when the opportunity occurred, but no such license was allowed the women. In fact, they showed no public display of affection to anyone, including their own menfolk, and were aggressively distrustful of even the most innocent intimacy. The men watched the women jealously even though they passed hardly a word with them and were especially alert when their hosts approached the women. Glade was sure that the men and women did fuck together, but this was a practice they kept notably private.
The Raft People generally expressed their feelings and desires by subtle allusion and were very tolerant of each other’s quirks. As a result, they were extraordinarily ill-equipped for the task of explaining to their guests that they had outstayed their welcome. Glade and Demure were women with much greater experience of the world than their fellow villagers and it was clear to them, Demure especially, that the baboon man and his compatriots didn’t really care whether the villagers were any longer enamoured by their presence. Indeed, they appeared to wilfully misunderstand the Raft People’s feeble attempts at protest.
This became more vocal when the Skull People started moving into the huts and shelters of their hosts. Naturally, the abodes they chose belonged to those women and men who had been most open to fucking new exotic flesh, but who were now regretting their earlier intimacy. Glade hadn’t been one of these women although she’d been tempted. Uncharacteristically, it had been Demure who advised her lover against her natural urges.
‘I don’t think this situation is going to be tolerated for much longer,’ said Demure, as the couple floated together on a raft and speared fish in the Great Sea. ‘Our hosts may be almost as free with their personal space and their affections as your tribe once were…’
‘…before it was exterminated…’ said Glade, who could never forgive the Knights for their crimes.
‘Yes indeed,’ Demure agreed, as if she had nothing to do with it. ‘Our hosts may have levels of tolerance and understanding beyond almost all compare, but they will soon reach their limits. Enough will be enough. They may not have a tradition for making their feelings known, but they outnumber the invaders and will soon forcefully evict them.’
”Invaders’?’
‘Trespassers. Intruders. They’re not here to share, they’re here to take.’
‘I don’t think the Skull People will leave willingly.’
Demure made no reply and brusquely threw her spear into the water. She drew it back onto the raft by the length of coiled sinew and reed that secured it to her ankle. She’d caught a small fish that had dared to approach the water surface for one last time. Demure and Glade pounced on the thrashing fish that might otherwise wriggle back into the sea, perhaps into the jaws of a manatee or great auk, and swiftly sawed through the fish’s throat. They then threw it into a woven basket in which were already heaped four or five other fish.
‘You’re right that the invaders won’t leave willingly,’ Demure replied at last. ‘Therefore, we must be careful to keep our distance. Once one set of guests becomes unwelcome, it’s possible that other guests won’t be so willingly tolerated.’
Glade pondered Demure’s words and followed her lover’s advice and example when they returned to the village. She was careful to demonstrate just how generous she and Demure could be with their overflowing basket of fish, whilst at the same time ensuring that she sat amongst the Raft People at quite a distance from the men with skulls on their heads.
Demure’s calculations were based entirely on numbers. The Raft People’s village was unusually large. There were more than a hundred men, women and children who were all well-fed and well-sheltered thanks to the bounty of nature on this stretch of the Northern shore. Most villages Glade had ever seen were composed of rather less than a third of this number and sometimes of barely a dozen souls. But when the company of Skull People one day expanded from the seven or eight who’d originally arrived to more like thirty or so, Glade wasn’t so sure that Demure had chosen the stronger force to support.
It was obvious to Glade that the baboon man’s tribe was much more belligerent than the Raft People. Not only were the men dressed in more macho fashion with tattoos covering their faces and the skulls of various animals worn on their heads, but they were rarely seen without a weapon such as a flint-knife, a sharpened stick or a club studded with sharp stones. Even their carriage and manner of speaking was inherently more bellicose than their relatively mild and deferential hosts. Could the Raft People assert their will effectively on guests who made no pretence of according them respect?
Glade and Demure sat together with the unusually silent and restrained Raft People on one side of the huge communal fire on which two antelope and a shark were roasting. On the other side, the Skull People were joking and carousing with vulgar abandon. Or at least, the men were. Their women were huddled together, only eating what food was offered them, and nursed the children whose gender was clearly distinguishable at a very young age by the choice of dress.
Th
e new guests wore even more elaborate skulls on their heads, including okapi, wart hog, wolf and even leopard. The man with the leopard skull had a vicious scar down his cheek and forehead that crossed over where an eye was missing. His tattooed face was further adorned by a small bone through his nose, whilst the splendid fur that covered his shoulders but parted ostentatiously at his crotch was stitched from several wildcats including cheetah, leopard and ocelot. Demure remarked to Glade, who wouldn’t otherwise have noticed, that this man, as the most strikingly dressed, was probably the Skull People’s chief.
Glade was soon rather less anxious about the presence of the leopard man, who was actually the least rowdy of his company, than she was by the attention of another of the new visitors. This one’s head was crowned by the skull of a mountain goat, with splendid horns, and whose tattoos only just disguised a badly broken nose and a deep scar across his cheek. Although Glade had learnt a few words of the Skull People’s language, she could glean less about the man’s intentions from his words as from the affection he expressed towards her and even more so towards Demure.
‘This is a man who likes the taste of the exotic,’ remarked Demure in her own tongue which almost dead language was still her main means of communication with her lover. ‘There’s all this brown flesh, but it’s the black he wants.’
‘You are very beautiful,’ remarked Glade loyally, who believed this with increasing fervour over the passing years.
‘It’s not beauty that attracts our stunt-nosed friend,’ said Demure, as she slid an arm discreetly away from the mountain goat man’s grasp. ‘He doesn’t want to admire my skin. He wants to stick his prick inside my hairy black lips. And once he’s fucked me, he won’t care a fuck about my beauty a moment longer.’
The fire died down. Meat was torn off the roasted game. Blood dribbled down the chin and onto the chests of the ravenous Skull People. And amongst the laughter and raucousness that came from just one side of the smouldering fire, the guests were chewing at mushrooms and herbs whose properties were more obviously narcotic than nutritional. The Raft People were more eager than usual to conclude their nightly feast. They were happy to be relieved of the tension of sharing the fruit of their efforts with guests who showed only the most superficial signs of gratitude and whose company had become less than amicable.
Glade and Demure were very soon amongst only a small number of Raft People left at the feast and still the mountain goat man hadn’t left their company.
‘We’re not going to shake him off,’ complained Demure. Although the man held her possessively around the waist, she was careful not to betray the meaning of her words by maintaining a strangely bland tone in her voice.
‘What are we going to do?’ wondered Glade, who sat to one side and emulated her lover by keeping her voice similarly unstressed.
‘Well, we’re not going to argue with the ugly cunt,’ said Demure whose angry words contrasted with a voice that sounded light and cheerful. ‘Whatever the shit wants to do, we’re not going to be able to stop him. If he wants to fuck a black cunt from the savannah or a brown cunt from the forest, we’re going to have to let him.’
‘We’ll just allow him do what he wants?’
‘Exactly,’ said Demure.
She turned her head back to the mountain goat man and smiled almost encouragingly as he pawed her bosom which like the rest of her was uncovered. Neither she nor Glade were comfortable wearing clothes and only did so when it was especially cold. However, nudity on the southern coast of the Great Sea was only rarely associated with sexuality, so this didn’t explain the man’s obsession with Demure.
When Demure and Glade stood up to return to their shelter, the mountain goat man accompanied them. He continued to speak jocularly in his incomprehensible throaty language and was accompanied also by a woman in a rather plain rabbit-skin fur whose pendulous breasts fell free of the furs that covered her back and buttocks.
When Chief Cave Lion and his party reached the top of the ridge above the Mountain Valley after their first ascent, they could now look across a wide vista of valleys and hills peppered with bushes and thickets. There were patches of snow that had fallen earlier in the season but hadn’t properly settled. Horse and antelope galloped over the coarse-leafed savannah. It was a glorious sight for hunters who’d seen so little game for so long, but as Glade reminded Ivory as they huddled beneath the...
Chapter Twenty Glade was by far the villager least visibly upset by the discovery that the winter route was blocked. While the chief and his most experienced hunters spent the rest of the day and all the next exploring and evaluating the few limited options available to them, she was preoccupied in checking the health and well-being of the woman and children. While Ivory anxiously gnawed on the last morsel of aurochs meat when the village gathered around the fire at the end of the day, Glade...
It was the time of the year to travel south. Everyone knew it. It was less than half a moon since Ivory’s village celebrated the Autumn Equinox with traditional solemnity, but the snow had settled at night and not melted, the mammoths were restless, and the sky was thick with flying geese. ‘Tomorrow!’ announced Chief Cave Lion. ‘Today we gather what we need for the journey. Tomorrow we leave.’ Ivory was as reluctant to leave as anyone in the village, but the chief had spoken and the auspices...
Chapter Twenty Four Glade couldn’t recall a time when she’d ever felt more despair than when she was finally certain that she’d never be able sail back to her lover across the choppy waters of the billowing sea. Was there any point in even being alive without Demure? It was only after many hours of weeping and cursing the spirits of her now extinct tribe that she at last returned her attention to the mundane but no less urgent task of staying alive. She was still adrift on a raft that was...
The relatively balmy, but still chilly, days of Summer gradually gave way to those of Autumn. As the oak and ash foliage changed hue, Ivory’s life settled into a pattern as deceptively stable as Glade’s had once been. She wasn’t pleased that she’d become the chief’s concubine, but the duty brought with it the benefit that she no longer had to accompany the other women in their daily woodland forage. And however jealous she was of Glade’s love, she’d grown to accept her lover’s occasional...
Chapter Twelve There was at first a sense of cheerful bravado accompanying Glade and her company as they paraded across the savannah with the Knights’ village receding ever further into the distance. They were sure that once they were back under the canopy of the great forest, their ordeal as slaves for the shaven-headed warriors would become nothing more than an unpleasant memory. However, as one day followed the last and there was still nothing on the horizon ahead that resembled the forest...
As the moon cycled through the winter season, especially on those days when snowstorms kept the villagers shivering inside their shelters and unable to venture out into the deadly cold, Ivory often returned to her memories of Glade. The shaman's apprentice remembered her not only as a lover, but also as the woman revealed to her by the stories she'd told her of her life. What puzzled Ivory most was why Glade had chosen to abandon her husband and two children. Ivory couldn't imagine that...
"Demure," the woman who had once been Glade's mistress replied hesitantly in the Knights' language. "Not Lady Demure. I no longer have a title, just as I no longer have an estate or a husband." Glade crouched down beside Demure under the shade of a palm tree. The appearance of both women had changed in the intervening years. Their hair was much longer and fell over their faces. Although Demure was as elegant as ever, there were small scars on her knees and ankles that hadn't been...
‘I hate the bastards!’ growled Mimosa the following day, employing the worst insult available in the Knights’ language. Illegitimacy was the ultimate stigma in a society that attached so much importance to child-bearing. Glade paused from shaving her fellow slave’s crotch. She was aware of the vehemence of Mimosa’s remark. ‘I hate them too,’ she said, although by now she’d got so accustomed to being a slave in their society that she’d almost forgotten what life had been like before. ‘They...
The warmth coming from the hastily assembled camp fire provided the only comfort for Ivory and her mostly silent companions as they anxiously awaited the outcome of the Chief's conference to which Glade was the only woman other than the Chief's wife who was privileged to attend. They had been gone for such a very long time and Ivory, like everyone else, hoped that whatever came of their discussions would at last bring direction and purpose to the villagers' wandering. Ivory's only...
‘What was your mistress’ name?’ Ivory asked the following day, while she and Glade prepared elixirs and drugs from what they’d foraged in the woods. ‘Demure,’ said Glade. ‘Or Lady Demure, as she was known then. At first, I didn’t know that was what the name meant. It sounded like nothing more than a short yelp. It took me quite a while to learn the language of the Knights of the Savannah. The names they gave themselves expressed the qualities that they believed were desirable. The men were...
It was every Autumn of her life that Ivory and the rest of her clan made the same trek south. Every Spring she returned the same way. She reasoned that the journey would seem less arduous as each year came by, but this year the wind was colder, the snow heavier and the ground more treacherous. Ivory wondered whether the migration only seemed worse because it was the first time her mother wasn’t there to accompany her, but Glade was as good a companion as her mother had ever been and in certain...
There were very few Ocean People who welcomed Demure’s presence in their village. But those few included all the elders and older marriageable men. And amongst these few, Demure was respected if not necessarily liked and recognised as someone who made a voluble, perhaps even valuable, contribution to the village’s debates. Glade was sure she wasn’t the only one who recognised that much of Demure’s patronage by the elderly and influential in the village was directly related to her intimate...
Ivory threaded the pubic hair through her front teeth where it had lodged and then buried her face back into the rich aroma of Glade's vulva. Above their naked bodies the Sun shone high in the sky, but not as high, Ivory knew now, as the Sun climbed in Glade's homelands far to the South. She huddled up against her lover's warm body, hoping that this would compensate for the biting chill of the wind. Every day these days, Glade and Ivory would leave the village just before dawn and tramp...
As the moon cycled through the winter season, especially on those days when snowstorms kept the villagers shivering inside their shelters and unable to venture out into the deadly cold, Ivory often returned to her memories of Glade. The shaman’s apprentice remembered her not only as a lover, but also as the woman revealed to her by the stories she’d told her of her life. What puzzled Ivory most was why Glade had chosen to abandon her husband and two children. Ivory couldn’t imagine that she...
Glade was the only one of the captive Mammoth Hunters who knew what to expect. It was much more startling for the other expedition members when at last, after trudging for most of the day through the fresh snow across a long flat plain, their captors brought them to the Cave Painters' settlement by the mountainside. This comprised of the mouths to several caves scattered about the base of the limestone hills around which were gathered dozens of Cave Painters all attired in their superior...
"I hate the bastards!" growled Mimosa the following day, employing the worst insult available in the Knights' language. Illegitimacy was the ultimate stigma in a society that attached so much importance to child-bearing. Glade paused from shaving her fellow slave's crotch. She was aware of the vehemence of Mimosa's remark. "I hate them too," she said, although by now she'd got so accustomed to being a slave in their society that she'd almost forgotten what life had been like...
There were very few Ocean People who welcomed Demure's presence in their village. But those few included all the elders and older marriageable men. And amongst these few, Demure was respected if not necessarily liked and recognised as someone who made a voluble, perhaps even valuable, contribution to the village's debates. Glade was sure she wasn't the only one who recognised that much of Demure's patronage by the elderly and influential in the village was directly related to her...
Glade believed that she’d arrived at the point in her life where events had directed her. The trials she’d endured from the time her tribe was reduced to slavery, her travels across the southern and northern lands, her marriage to Flint, and, of course, the ever-present shadow of Demure: all of this was destined to culminate where she was now. The pinnacle of her life was to be a peripatetic shaman in the company of her black lover in the white glacial foothills of the Great Mountains. What...
Glade believed that she'd arrived at the point in her life where events had directed her. The trials she'd endured from the time her tribe was reduced to slavery; her travels across the southern and northern lands; her marriage to Flint; and, of course, the ever-present shadow of Demure: all of this was destined to culminate where she was now. The pinnacle of her life was to be a peripatetic shaman in the company of her black lover in the white glacial foothills of the Great...
Glade was by far the villager least visibly upset by the discovery that the winter route was blocked. While the chief and his most experienced hunters spent the rest of the day and all the next exploring and evaluating the few limited options available to them, she was preoccupied in checking the health and well-being of the woman and children. While Ivory anxiously gnawed on the last morsel of aurochs meat when the village gathered around the fire at the end of the day, Glade seemed...
The noisy festivities that had continued through the day were well over when Glade eventually returned to her tepee. The village was now silent apart from the muffled snores of the Reindeer Herders asleep in the chill open air and the occasional howl or bark from distant nocturnal beasts. Ivory stirred as Glade rustled about. Her bleary eyes fixed on her lover. Glade was weary but her fatigue was quite different from that which had overwhelmed her apprentice. "Have you... ?" asked Ivory....
If Glade expected her apprentice to be more shocked than she was by her account of the violence that had decimated her tribe she was disappointed. Ivory was more indignant at the rudeness of rebuffing a welcome than distressed by the account of the bloodshed. In any case, Glade was reluctant to give a full account of the horrors that followed. It was painful enough for her to remember the evil and worse still to describe it. Did she really want to elaborate on how so many of the people she'd...
There was at first a sense of cheerful bravado accompanying Glade and her company as they paraded across the savannah with the Knights' village receding ever further into the distance. They were sure that once they were back under the canopy of the great forest, their ordeal as slaves for the shaven-headed warriors would become nothing more than an unpleasant memory. However, as one day followed the last and there was still nothing on the horizon ahead that resembled the forest Glade so...
Clouds obscured the stars and moon when Glade and Demure emerged from their shelter carrying as many of their belongings as they could in deer-hide sacks, but more than the dark what mostly helped secure the lovers' escape as they crept away from the Raft People's village towards the Great Sea was that the rest of the village was far more preoccupied with other matters than the fate of the two women. Other villagers were suffering the same humiliation and possibly rape that Glade and Demure...
When Chief Cave Lion and his party reached the top of the ridge above the Mountain Valley after their first ascent, they could now look across a wide vista of valleys and hills peppered with bushes and thickets. There were patches of snow that had fallen earlier in the season but hadn't properly settled. Horse and antelope galloped over the coarse-leafed savannah. It was a glorious sight for hunters who'd seen so little game for so long, but as Glade reminded Ivory as they huddled beneath...
"The forest where I was born is far, far to the South," Glade told Ivory the following day after her apprentice had returned from foraging duties in the woods and removed her clothes on the shaman's request. "It's a very different land. The sun shines high in the sky. At midday it's almost directly overhead. It is always warm. My people never wore clothes. I never knew what it meant to cover my flesh. The need to do so just did not exist." "It sounds like paradise," said...
"You did well, my dear," Chief Cave Lion told Ivory the following morning as she and Glade lay together on the bed the Reindeer Herder chief had vacated. "Thank you, my lord," said Ivory who still savoured the memory of her lovemaking. She didn't say so but she thought to herself that the pleasure in the duty was all hers. And she would gladly do the same again. "The Reindeer Herder chief has complimented the shaman and you on your lovemaking," continued the Chief, running his hand...
As she did every year, Ivory found the long march south arduous. She was fatigued and shivered uncontrollably from the cold. Winter had arrived early. Although the snow was powdery, it was settling and had become ever more difficult to trudge through. A journey such as this would be tiring in any season, but was even more so when confronted by snowy gales and encumbered by furs. The need for good stitching was more than ever evident as ice-cold water inexorably seeped through the seams. The...
Glade kissed her young lover on the lips while Chief Cave Lion slumped on his back exhausted. A thin thread of semen trailed from his penis into the tangle of Ivory's pubic hair. Now that Ivory had discovered her lover's infidelity, Glade was actually rather more affectionate to her ward even when she was being fucked by the Chief. "You have become a more accomplished lover," mused Chief Cave Lion. He tenderly kissed Ivory's pale thigh and cupped a buttock in a gnarled hand. "You have...
Ivory was consumed by the flames of jealousy. All through the night her moist vagina was repeatedly stimulated by Glade's fingers. She shuddered many times over with the warm pleasure her older lover had orchestrated and it was into Glade's arms she collapsed, but the object of her jealousy wasn't the shaman. It was Ptarmigan who at that moment was in the chief's company and no doubt also in the throes of passion. Now that Chief Cave Lion had returned his wife would from henceforth sleep...
Birth, death and marriage. These were the three most important events in life. These were also the occasions where Ivory, as the shaman's apprentice, was now required to play an important part. It was Glade whose role was the most vital, particularly with regards to giving birth. Her midwifery skills were in greatest demand during the summer, as this was the time of the year when most women gave birth. Sadly, Glade and Ivory were also in attendance for the sombre duty of burying the bodies...
It was every Autumn of her life that Ivory and the rest of her clan made the same trek south. Every Spring she returned the same way. She reasoned that the journey would seem less arduous as each year came by, but this year the wind was colder, the snow heavier and the ground more treacherous. Ivory wondered whether the migration only seemed worse because it was the first time her mother wasn't there to accompany her, but Glade was as good a companion as her mother had ever been and in...
The following nights and days were hard. They were cold, bitterly so, and not everyone was going to survive the winter months. Ivory was tested as she'd never been tested before. She could never have managed without the love of Ptarmigan who insisted on accompanying her lover on every visit to a villager who was ill, injured or about to give birth. This was well appreciated, especially by those who'd become villagers on account of having accidentally stumbled into the Mountain Valley. The...
As she did every year, Ivory found the long march south arduous. She was fatigued and shivered uncontrollably from the cold. Winter had arrived early. Although the snow was powdery, it was settling and had become ever more difficult to trudge through. A journey such as this would be tiring in any season, but was even more so when confronted by snowy gales and encumbered by furs. The need for good stitching was more than ever evident as ice-cold water inexorably seeped through the seams. The...
Clouds obscured the stars and moon when Glade and Demure emerged from their shelter carrying as many of their belongings as they could in deer-hide sacks, but more than the dark what mostly helped secure the lovers’ escape as they crept away from the Raft People’s village towards the Great Sea was that the rest of the village was far more preoccupied with other matters than the fate of the two women. Other villagers were suffering the same humiliation and possibly rape that Glade and Demure had...
Glade couldn't recall a time when she'd ever felt more despair than when she was finally certain that she'd never be able sail back to her lover across the choppy waters of the billowing sea. Was there any point in even being alive without Demure? It was only after many hours of weeping and cursing the spirits of her now extinct tribe that she at last returned her attention to the mundane but no less urgent task of staying alive. She was still adrift on a raft that was drifting aimlessly...
Hi, To all Iss reader this is my first story hope U all would like it a complete fiction.my self raj i live in Mumbai this story is about my aunty nandita,let me describe her she is in her 30s,lives with her husband and daughter.She is born beauty with an awesome fig of 36.28.40 ..her assets are her huge melons of 36 d and her ass that will give a hard on to any guy who looks at it So now my story starts this was like 5 years ago when I was appearing for my 12 th HSC examination at that time my...
Birth, death and marriage. These were the three most important events in life. These were also the occasions where Ivory, as the shaman’s apprentice, was now required to play an important part. It was Glade whose role was the most vital, particularly with regards to giving birth. Her midwifery skills were in greatest demand during the summer, as this was the time of the year when most women gave birth. Sadly, Glade and Ivory were also in attendance for the sombre duty of burying the bodies of a...
Glade kissed her young lover on the lips while Chief Cave Lion slumped on his back exhausted. A thin thread of semen trailed from his penis into the tangle of Ivory’s pubic hair. Now that Ivory had discovered her lover’s infidelity, Glade was actually rather more affectionate to her ward even when she was being fucked by the Chief. ‘You have become a more accomplished lover,’ mused Chief Cave Lion. He tenderly kissed Ivory’s pale thigh and cupped a buttock in a gnarled hand. ‘You have taught...
"What a beautiful night for a stroll," Princess Merry said happily. "The moon makes it almost as bright as day." "I am not so sure we are on the right path," Prince Karl replied, rubbing his sword hilt. "We should have reached the castle by now. I fear we have somehow been diverted from our usual..." "Karl! Look!" Merry exclaimed. "It is so beautiful." They emerged from the forest into a moonlit glade, the moss and grass underfoot soft as any carpet. Pleasurable fragrances...
After her husband had at last swaggered back to his hut, Lady Demure reclined between her slaves lost in thought. She barely registered their presence, however much Quagga loyally cuddled up against her. It was an uneasy silence while the slaves also appraised the significance of Lord Valour's news. Although the death of the cruel and malevolent King was surely welcome, Glade was anxious of the consequences it might have for her. She had almost forgotten any other way of life than that of a...
Ivory was consumed by the flames of jealousy. All through the night her moist vagina was repeatedly stimulated by Glade’s fingers. She shuddered many times over with the warm pleasure her older lover had orchestrated and it was into Glade’s arms she collapsed, but the object of her jealousy wasn’t the shaman. It was Ptarmigan who at that moment was in the chief’s company and no doubt also in the throes of passion. Now that Chief Cave Lion had returned his wife would from henceforth sleep by...
If Glade expected her apprentice to be more shocked than she was by her account of the violence that had decimated her tribe she was disappointed. Ivory was more indignant at the rudeness of rebuffing a welcome than distressed by the account of the bloodshed. In any case, Glade was reluctant to give a full account of the horrors that followed. It was painful enough for her to remember the evil and worse still to describe it. Did she really want to elaborate on how so many of the people she’d...
Chief Cave Lion's dwelling was by far the largest in the village. It was a huge lattice of fallen tree trunks, tied together by cord and covered by sewn-together aurochs and rhinoceros hide. It was as large as five or six tepees meshed together. Although the harshness of the winter snow was usually enough to wreck most habitations in the village, the chief's weathered the conditions best and was reassembled on the same spot each spring with, if anything, more splendour than in the previous...
Glade was the only one of the captive Mammoth Hunters who knew what to expect. It was much more startling for the other expedition members when at last, after trudging for most of the day through the fresh snow across a long flat plain, their captors brought them to the Cave Painters’ settlement by the mountainside. This comprised of the mouths to several caves scattered about the base of the limestone hills around which were gathered dozens of Cave Painters all attired in their superior...
The noisy festivities that had continued through the day were well over when Glade eventually returned to her tepee. The village was now silent apart from the muffled snores of the Reindeer Herders asleep in the chill open air and the occasional howl or bark from distant nocturnal beasts. Ivory stirred as Glade rustled about. Her bleary eyes fixed on her lover. Glade was weary but her fatigue was quite different from that which had overwhelmed her apprentice. ‘Have you…?’ asked Ivory. She...
Author’s Note: There was an old fairy tale about an old woman with two daughters and a couple of beautiful rose bushes. Now these two daughters grew up with no one but their mother and the creatures of the forest as their friends. They were innocent in the ways of lust and only knew of love. The words taught to them were words their mother found accepting, so I have tried to remain true to their upbringing as best I can. So while you read the story of Crimson and Ivory, please remember their...
Chapter One Ivory tugged aside the curtain of mammoth hide that was all there was to secure the relative warmth inside the tepee from the chill wind. She crawled outside and stood upright in the bulky furs that muffled her body from hooded top to swaddled toe. She needed reprieve from the dark distress that was overwhelming her during her bedside vigil. Inside the tepee lay prone the fur-covered body of her mother who was exhaling her last few painful dying breaths. There had been no warning,...
After her husband had at last swaggered back to his hut, Lady Demure reclined between her slaves lost in thought. She barely registered their presence, however much Quagga loyally cuddled up against her. It was an uneasy silence while the slaves also appraised the significance of Lord Valour’s news. Although the death of the cruel and malevolent King was surely welcome, Glade was anxious of the consequences it might have for her. She had almost forgotten any other way of life than that of a...
‘You did well, my dear,’ Chief Cave Lion told Ivory the following morning as she and Glade lay together on the bed the Reindeer Herder chief had vacated. ‘Thank you, my lord,’ said Ivory who still savoured the memory of her lovemaking. She didn’t say so but she thought to herself that the pleasure in the duty was all hers. And she would gladly do the same again. ‘The Reindeer Herder chief has complimented the shaman and you on your lovemaking,’ continued the Chief, running his hand over...
I slid the report into the proper file just as he walked into the room. Dennis Butz stood there wearing his three-piece suit, looking as handsome and charming as any man could. But I was not to be tamed by his charm. "Hello, Linda," he said with a friendly grin. "Judge Herns isn't in today," I replied back in a frosty tone. "I'm not here to see her." "My plane leaves in less then an hour Dennis, what do you want?" I slammed the file drawer shut and walked past him to my desk...
Introduction: The second of the Highacre dragon breeder series, 4 boys caught in the act A couple of days had passed since Mimi had first arrived at the Breeding farm and she was beginning to feel settled in, her new quarters were spacious and suited her needs, she had a small suite of rooms in the stable hands quarters just like every other stable hand, the suite had three rooms, the living room, bedroom and bathroom, this morning she had a lesson with Viktoria about the history of the...
Mimi left her quarters and made her way to the office, she passed through the cloister were the stable hands took their meals, the sun shone down and warmed the pink stone of the cloister, the pillars glowed a soft red in the morning sun, she took a second to enjoy the warmth and then continued on to Viktoria's office. She knocked on the door and entered "Viktoria, I am here for my lesson" she walked in and sat at a small desk where Viktoria had laid a couple of books for her to study,...
Ebony and Ivory were to Busty freinds that one day decide to have a Comeption. Ebony was Black and Ivory was white. "You ever been in a gang bang" Ebony said "Yea plenty" Ivory "Not like I have girlfreind." Ebony said "What you mean" Ivory said "Never had any black dick ones" Ebony smiled "Girl I can handle plenty of those. Some white boys can lay it down" Ivory said "How about a competion. She how well you can handle them. You gangbang some black guys. If you can lay them with that pussy of...
InterracialChief Cave Lion’s dwelling was by far the largest in the village. It was a huge lattice of fallen tree trunks, tied together by cord and covered by sewn-together aurochs and rhinoceros hide. It was as large as five or six tepees meshed together. Although the harshness of the winter snow was usually enough to wreck most habitations in the village, the chief’s weathered the conditions best and was reassembled on the same spot each spring with, if anything, more splendour than in the previous...
Randi's Vacation Randi woke up to his alarm and quickly silenced it. A quick glance to his left confirmed the Denise was already up. She almost always got up before him preferring some extra time between getting ready for work and needing to walk out the door. He preferred to have enough time to get ready, eat and go. He walked to the bathroom which was right in the master bedroom. The condo they bought was a bit extravagant but provided plenty of room and they could afford it on...