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Ayisha Cottontail

Eight

The twins had indeed found the place Sheera had told them about; it was strewn with rocks the size Eva had asked for, but even for them they were too heavy. So they had asked a few other Amazons for help, and, as Eva’s whistle reached them, were already on their way back to the village.

The photographer smiled at the scene: two girls, walking cautiously and covered with sweat, were carrying each stone. She went to meet them; there was no need to expose Samba chained to girls who were not “in training”.

“Thank you, my dears! Please leave the stones at the entrance of the hut: Sunga and Munga can bring them inside.”

The twins carried their stone into the hut and placed it by the large one, which served as a table. Their eyes opened wide as they recognized who was squatting at the far end of the hut; to conceal her embarrassment, Samba sat down and pretended to be very busy with something on her left foot.

“Samba is here because she got a bulawa on her tongue and cannot eat today,” Eva explained as her toe went under the twins’ pelts and touched their pussies one after another. “To help her to stay away from temptation, I have tied her to this long bulawa.”

The girls kept silent; it was Miss and Samba’s business, not theirs.

Eva remembered that she had planned to cut their hair short, so that the collars could be always visible as she lay on the litter She went to her bag and took a magazine with photos of Afro hairdos.

“Sunga, Munga, there is something I can do to make you even more beautiful. This long hair is not to your best advantage. Have a look at these photos, will you?” She leafed through the magazine and found a photo of a black girl with a shaven skull. Luckily for her, the ebony beauty was wearing a tight golden necklace and a pair of big earrings.

“See how pretty she is? I can make you look like her, if you want.”

Samba was stretching her neck to look at the photo. Eva beckoned to her:

“Come, Samba, tell us your opinion.”

The leader stood up and walked towards them, her chain rattling as she moved. She peeked at the magazine and nodded approvingly. Sunga said:

“I want to look like her, Miss”

“Very well. Samba, please hold Sunga’s head. Munga, bring me that bucket; we will have to wet your sister’s hair.”

As Eva lathered the girl’s head with shaving cream, an idea occurred to her: why not leave an E at the back of her head, like a natural brand? She took a razor she used on her armpits and glided it carefully over the top of the girl’s skull, removing all the hair; then, still more carefully, she grated it on its back, sculpting on the left side a vertical bar of wiry hair, from which the three horizontal ones went out.

“How do you like it, Sunga?” Eva asked, holding a pocket mirror in front of her and one behind, so that she could see the result of her work.

“That is great, Miss!” The girl was utterly pleased with her new appearance.

Eva repeated the operation on Munga, this time making a smaller E; that would be useful to distinguish between the twins.

“Very well! Now, let’s go out. You know your area better than I do; I trust you will show me some nice place. Samba, you stay here – you know why you have to.”

“We could go to the river, Miss”, Sunga said. “It is very nice there.”

They went out of the hut. Eva sat on the litter; the twins lifted her and began to walk smoothly, the bells jingling happily on their ankles. Eva’s eyes rested on Sunga’s hips and back; the Amazon carried her with no apparent effort, holding firmly the rod on her right shoulder, which she had protected with the weeds pad. The litter didn’t jostle anymore; it was as comfortable means of transport as any lady could wish for.

As they left the village, she recognized the girl who had asked her for her belt buckle the evening before. Eva evaluated her quickly: she had a slim waist, almond-shaped eyes and a finely chiseled pair of lips. “Very decorative”, thought Eva as she approached. “She could volunteer…”

But she didn’t want to rush things; better to wait for the next day. If she did volunteer, so much the better; if she didn’t, perhaps the belt she coveted so much could lure her into the “program”. In her mind, Eva pictured her in a lush garden, holding an umbrella behind her veiled mistress – a scene that could illustrate a tale from the Arabian Nights.

The girl stopped as she arrived near them; there was bewilderment in her voice:

“Munga! What has happened to your hair? It wasn’t like that this morning!”

Munga made a halt; Sunga did the same. Eva gave a hearty tug at the reins:

“Who told you to stop? Move on! And don’t do that again without permission. What will people say if my bearers walk and stop as they please?”

The twins resumed their march; they had learned that it was not wise to disobey the white lady. Eva motioned to the new girl:

“You are Matomba, aren’t you? Is Munga your girlfriend?”

“Yes, casino siteleri Miss, that is right. We have been playing together lately.”

It was obvious that they had been together that very morning. Eva felt curious; she had not yet seen two Amazons making love. She turned to Matomba, who was now a few steps behind them:

“Matomba, yesterday you asked for a bulawa. You see that I don’t give them away for nothing; if you want to know more about my ways, you can come with us.”

Matomba nodded. The whole scene had impressed her: she had never seen a person being carried that way. She noticed that Munga and Sunga had been given amulets – well, not exactly given: it was clear that the lady had asked them something in return. She had liked a lot that shining thing on the woman’s waist; why not go with her and see what she was up to? Also, she was a bit worried about her girlfriend: Munga could want to play with the visitor… she had better keep an eye on them!

They entered a trail in the woods that led to the river; after some ten minutes, they arrived at it. It was wide; its waters flowed calmly towards a sharp bend about one mile away. There were trees and grass on its banks. Eva pulled Sunga’s reins. The girls stopped; she dismounted and watched as they put the litter on the ground and knelt down, waiting for her to find a tree and park them.

There was an alarmed look on Munga’s eyes: it was clear that she didn’t want Matomba to see her “parked”. Eva smiled; she was more interested in what was happening in the river. Four Amazons were standing in a boat, watching the water and holding slim wooden tubes between their teeth.

“What are they doing, Sunga?”

“Looking for fish, Miss.”

Eva understood: they did not use rods or nets, but waited for the fish to come up and blew a dart on them. She had barely grabbed her camera and made a shot when one Amazon did precisely that, uttering a cry of victory: ” I have got it!” Her sleek body formed a line against the blue sky as she dived into the water; half a minute later, she emerged with a sizable fish in her hand. She crept into the boot, threw her catch into a basket and stood again, sliding another thin piece of wood into her tube. The other girls didn’t move; they were completely absorbed, screening the surface of the river. Eva had made photographs of every phase of the process; she blessed her good luck and turned to Matomba.

“Come here, young one. Let Miss examine you.”

The girl approached. Eva traced her jawline with her fingers and went down her neck to reach the breasts, which pointed up like two Bourbon mangoes. As if it was the most natural thing in the world, she lifted the pelt and brushed aside the curly hairs on her mound, revealing a generous pair of labia. Taking care not to hurt the girl, she inserted a finger into her pussy. Matomba jerked, scared. Eva said sternly:

“Keep quiet, girl! I am checking what is the best place for your bulawa. “

Her finger moved slowly, seeking the cherry. Sure enough, there it was, blocking any further advance. “Original condition”, Eva thought. “Twelve thousand dollars, just waiting to be cashed…” She turned to Munga:

“Your girlfriend is very pretty and healthy. Have you been with her since you earned you bulawas?”

“No, Miss, I was busy looking for the stones, but I will, tonight”, Munga replied. There was nothing wrong in her willing to play with her mate. Or was there? Her heart beat faster: another swatting, and in front of Matomba, would be hard to bear. But the white lady was not angry; she went on, in a friendly tone:

“Sure you will, and you will see how good they are.”

Matomba’s eyes flared as she spoke:

“Miss, I want one too! What do I have to do to earn one?’

“We will see that later, young one. Now I want to reward Munga for having behaved so well – not like this morning, when I have had to remind her… well, let’s leave that aside. Munga, you are free to play with Matomba. Sunga, please come here; I will show you something I am sure you don’t know yet.”

Munga’s face opened in a wide grin as Matomba walked towards her; both lay on the soft grass and removed their hides and sandals. Matomba grabbed Munga’s shoulders and began to mime a fight, pushing her down and rolling with her like they were young cats. Munga freed herself and, with a quick movement, pinned Matomba down to grind her breasts on hers. They sniffed and laughed and kissed for some time; then Munga lay on her back and spread her legs.

Matomba sat on her, facing her feet. With her hand, she sought her crotch; she fingered it expertly, drawing moans from her partner. Munga was pinching her mate’s heels; the Amazon liked that a lot, judging from the noises she was making. The collared bearer lifted her buttocks a few inches from the ground, offering her pussy to her friend’s eager fingers. Her body writhed wildly as she took Matomba’s foot in her mouth and licked avidly the wrinkles on the sole.

Eva canlı casino was following all that with a keen eye. Matomba left Munga’s pussy, placed herself atop her and held her wrists over her head, grinding her cunny on the other girl’s pussy and rubbing her breasts with hers. Her pearl-shaped rump seemed to tell Eva, like the cake in the Alice story, bite me, bite me – she had to muster all her self-control not to give in to that impulse. She turned to Sunga:

“Come here, dear; kiss my breasts and glide your tongue all over me.” She lay down and felt the muscled body of her bearer over hers; the girl smelled a bit acrid, her natural musk accentuated because she was still panting.

Sunga licked Eva’s neck and came down to her breasts; her tongue was soft, making the white woman feel as if a cheetah cub were lapping her. She grabbed the Amazon’s head; with one hand, she caressed her collar, while the other rubbed the E of hair on the back of her skull. Those symbols of her control over the black girl were aphrodisiacs for her; also, she loved to have her breasts nibbled. She let Sunga feast on her nipples for a while, then pushed her down, shivering as the tongue circled her navel in rapid movements. Sunga was getting excited while doing all this; her hand slid along Eva’s body in the direction of her own crotch, but Eva brushed it aside with her knee.

“Use your hands to caress me, Sunga! Later I will show you a new way of having pleasure. Now put lick my pussy – I need some release!”

Sunga had never done that before, but didn’t dare to refuse: It would be quite humiliating to have her ass swatted in front of Matomba. Eva fully enjoyed the touch of that agile tongue flicking up and down on her dripping pussy. Sunga was not as talented as Samba, but was certainly much above the average.

Eva’s body was tense with lust; she began to quiver – that girl was so fresh and, like the ones in her age class, probably still untouched by any male – “and she is mine, mine… MINE!” Eva shouted as the explosion came. She turned aside, carrying with her an astonished Sunga. A few yards away, Matomba and Munga were also in the final stages; Eva could hear them moaning and purring as they cummed, almost at the same instant.

It took a few minutes for Eva’s heartbeat to slow down; she had kept her palm on Sunga’s bare skull, grazing the rough surface. In her job as a fashion photographer, she had seen several African models with no hair on their heads, and, for some reason, that had aroused her as few other things ever had. Perhaps it was the absence of any clear line between forehead and scalp – both being the same color, while when a white woman has her hair removed she looks merely bald – that made it seem so natural, and at the same time so exotic. The fact was, she was utterly pleased to have now two shaven Negresses at her disposal, and touch their heads as often as she wanted. Sunga seemed to like that caress, for she kept motionless as Eva grated her scalp with the tips of her nails.

“This girl is much more docile than her sister; interesting, because she is more of a leader”, Eva thought. “I will have to check on this; actually, I know nothing about the psychology of twins.”

When she felt totally relaxed, Eva turned to Munga and Matomba, who were lying a few yards away, basking on the warmth of the afternoon.

“Girls, I want you on your knees now, to watch and learn something new. Sunga, ride my toe and put into it your pussy. You will see how the bulawa on your neck will make you come in a new way.” She sat on a tree stump, stretched a leg and let her right foot rest on its heel, lowering the four little toes and keeping the big one up.

Sunga unfastened Eva’s sandal and mounted her foot. She let her sex glide along it, wetting it with her juice; then she grabbed the big toe and put it carefully to her pussy. Eva had asked her to fuck her toe because she knew that it was not long enough to damage her cherry, in the case it was still intact. She also wanted to see how the girl would behave with something hard in her pussy. Even if she was not planning to send her to Aden, it would be useful to know how an Amazon would bear penetration: some of the black ivory the Princess was requesting would sure end up in conventional harems, with a male in command.

Sunga was moving up and down, trying to make the toe reach her clit. Her tits bounced as she clenched her pussy muscles around it; Eva noticed with pleasure how tight she was. The other girls were watching attentively; Matomba had put her hand to her pussy and was masturbating without a drop of shame.

“Hands on your back, you!” Eva flashed. “And you too, Munga!”

Munga didn’t hesitate even for a second, recalling the dry sound of Miss’ blouse on her ass and the burning sensation on it. Eva smiled, inwardly enjoying her increasing control over the muscled, yet so feminine young Nubian; but she was sure that the girl would relapse into challenging her. It was in her nature kaçak casino to fight and resist, which made breaking her even more of a turn on for Eva. Taming Munga would be like riding a feisty mare: she needed a firm bridle and short reins, or would throw down her jockey.

Matomba imitated her; if she wanted to earn a bulawa, it was better to do as Miss said. Sunga’s breath was quick now; her face showed tension, as she became more and more aroused. She was finding it difficult to come on such a tiny thing; a finger was much easier to climax on. She tried to move her hips in circles, but that didn’t help much. She bent her torso forward and discovered that in that position she could rub her clit onto the toe. Eva wiggled it with care; she could feel the girl contracting… contracting… squeezing her toe… and suddenly a loud shriek broke the silence. The Nubian burst into an orgasm, her body shaking wildly as she went upwards with her bum and fell on her knees again. Her head was thrown backwards; she was rolling her nipple between her thumb and her second finger.

Eva was pleased; the moment was appropriate for a “commercial interval”, as she jokingly called it in her mind.

“Girls, you see how the bulawas made Sunga come hard. I think the one with the bells is especially powerful; maybe I will command some more to come from my land.”

Munga and Matomba were still kneeling, their hands obediently behind their backs. They also had been impressed by the strength of Sunga’s climax.

The photographer approached them:

“Munga, fetch my sandal; Matomba, I want you to fasten it.” The girl fidgeted clumsily with the buckle of her sandal, but finally managed to fasten it. Eva shouted to Sunga:

“Up, you! It is late already; the sun is going down. Let’s go back.”

The twins put the litter on their shoulders; after a short walk, they were again in front of Eva’s hut. Tonga was there, kindling a fire to roast some of Samba’s deer for dinner. Eva asked her bearers:

“Do you want to have dinner with us?”

“Yes, Miss! We are hungry!” said Munga.

“O. K. Bring the stones into the hut; Matomba, you can go.” She showed them where she wanted the stones laid: one by the cot to serve as a night table, while the others would serve as stools. She accompanied the Amazons to the outside, told them to kneel down and tied their leashes to a tree.

Matomba was still hanging there; she was wishing to talk things over with her girlfriend. Eva hadn’t noticed her; as she entered the hut, the girl approached the twins and asked in a whisper:

“Munga, why are you tied like this?”

Munga lowered her head, ashamed, but lifted it again: Matomba would end up knowing about the leash, for anybody could see them attached and tell her.

“Miss said that we have to wait for her like this, or she will take our bulawas away. What can I do?”

Matomba was too startled to say anything. A bulawa could come expensive! But the way Munga had cummed, and also Sunga on the white woman’s toe, proved their power. What would Miss ask from her, if she decided to give her one? She could only wonder; she grabbed Munga’s foot and examined the anklet with the bells, making them sound. Munga recalled how her sister had bitten the anklet on Miss’ foot; she said, imitating the white woman:

“You may bite it, Matomba, it is real gold!”

“Shh, Munga! Miss could hear you!” said Sunga, looking worried. “And Matomba, Miss told you to go; if you want to get one of her bulawas, you had better do as she says.”

But Eva had not heard. Samba was dozing; as she removed her sandals for more comfort, Eva contemplated her for a long moment: what a trophy she was! The Amazon had bent one leg; her hand was clutched on the loose chain beside her. Eva noticed with pleasure that she had not used the cot, which apparently she had decided belonged to Miss, and preferred to lie on the leaf-covered ground.

The photographer spent some time sorting and arranging her things, and whistled for Sheera. She released the bearers and invited them into the hut; the aroma of Tonga’s cooking filled the air. She caressed affectionately Samba’s nose:

“Samba, dear, I am sorry, but you cannot eat. Do you want to go outside while we have our meal?”

Samba gave her a fierce look.

“No, Miss. Samba can watch; tomorrow she will eat.”

“O.k., dear. Go to the end of the hut; Tonga, you may release the twins; tell them to come and have dinner.”

The girls stepped in.

Eva took a piece of deer and complimented Tonga for the quality of her cooking. Sunga stretched her hand to grab one, too, but Eva gave her a stern look:

“Wait until I have finished, dear.”

Sheera exchanged a look with Tonga; she had not told her yet about what had happened that morning at the lake. The four Amazons waited until the visitor was done, and ate in silence.

It was quite dark now; night had fallen quickly, as it does in Africa. The village was quiet, the Amazons having retired into their huts. Eva imagined what was going on inside them; pictures of lascivious Nubians brushing against each other in the darkness and talking excitedly about bulawas formed in her mind.

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