Preface

       A man’s ego builds borders. The land was rich and fertile but the people who lived there could not find peace. Semantics kept the people separated. Who ran the country, who served the country, and who owned the country; these were the questions that started wars. Three tribes existed, the Barbarians, a tribe dominated by male warriors, the Mothers, a tribe dominated by medicine women, and the Farmers, a tribe in which both sexes ruled equally.

       The Barbarians lived in the woods across the river to the east. Their fortress was isolated and surrounded by deep motes filled with mysterious water creatures. The King, Solomon, had three sons, Paul, Samuel, and Matthew. They ruled their tribe with fear and might. The women of the Barbarian tribe found themselves under constraint and suppression. Women were to be owned and controlled. They had no rights and no property. In fact, they were property. They spent their lives shackled and starved. The men spent their days hunting and training for battle. King Solomon believed that his kingdom was incomplete and prepared to invade the near by tribe of Farmers to spread his territory.

       The Farmers were a peaceful people consumed by hard work and festive nightlife. The women and the men worked side by side and drank side by side. Property was owned by those who earned it; and the tribe was ruled by a council of great men and women. The Farmers had many children in their tribe and education was a large part of their culture. They often visited the Mother’s tribe to the west across the mountains. They found peace with the Mother’s who traded medicine and magic for the food that the Farmer’s grew.

       The Mother’s were a tribe run by women with mysterious powers. The Sorcerer Eve was the oldest and wisest of women, and all the other women turned to her in times of distress. Her daughter, Mary, was the most beautiful of the land and encompassed an amazing ability to heal with her hands. Together Eve and Mary lead the Mother’s in a time of peace and prosperity, although all of this would change as the King Solomon would soon make his move to conquer the west…

The Eve of War

       King Solomon threw his chalice to the floor. The wine from within splattered across the floor staining the rug. The room was dimly lit and heaviness hung in the air. “But Father,” spoke Matthew, “If we invade now the men will not have time to finish the construction of the catapult. Surely the Farmers will retaliate with the use of the Mother’s magic. We must be prepared!” Matthew was the youngest of the three sons and his youth made him weak in the eyes of his father. “The Farmer’s are weak, and the Mother’s! The Mother’s are WOMEN!” The King stood upright and pulled his mantle to the side. He began to pace the room. Candle wax dripped from the chandeliers and riches from across the lands outlined the walls of the court room. Paul and Samuel stood silently as their father walked to the side of the room behind his throne where three slave girls lay chained to the floor. He grabbed the small frail one with the dark brown hair by her neck and raised her off the floor. “Women. Pathetic weak creatures. What else are they good for but for fucking?! Thomas! Bring these three bitches to my chambers immediately.” Thomas, the personal servant to the throne, jumped up in a hurry and unchained the girls. “Get up you filthy whores, time to do your work.”

       Scrambling to find any strength the three girls found themselves on their feet and slowly sauntered off behind the king. As they passed through the winding corridors of the palace the brunette felt her legs squabble and tears begin to surface behind her eyes. She told herself to stay strong, that the king would never defeat her soul. They approached the King’s chambers the halls became colder and darker. Thomas placed the other two girls in a steel cage beside the King’s bed and took the brunettes clothes off her back. She kneeled naked on the floor. Thomas quickly scurried out the room. Not much time later the King sauntered into the room. “Ah my slut. Now is time to please your King and earn your keep. Come here.” The King grabbed her by the back of the head and pulled her face towards his pelvis. His cock was hard and throbbing as he pressed her face against the linen of his pants. He pulled back on her hair so that she was looking up at him. “Feast whore.”

       She took his swollen member into her hand. It hung half hard half limp in her hand. As she squeezed it began to harden and grow. The tip of his cock swole until it was purple and plump. The brunette tried to gather what little salvia she could in her dry mouth and then opened wide for her king. The King in disgust from the dryness of her mouth grabbed the back of her head directly at her crown and forced his cock into her throat. She felt the head ‘pop’ the back of her throat as it forced its was passed her lymph nodes. She immediately jerked her head back and from her lips she produced a thick and lubricated strand of saliva that still stuck to the swollen cock that stared her in the eyes. “I swear to god if you let that cock out of your mouth I will have you killed.” The brunette looked up from her place on the floor to meet the eyes of the king. Just as her eyes began to focus on the old tattered face of the king his fist came flying from the side across her face. “Get this cock in your mouth right now.” She grabbed hold of the shaft once again and this time forced the cock down her throat until she started gagging and choking. “Good slut. Bend over.”

Yarishana

       I never really thought it was fair. After school all the other girls got to go play outside and practice their lessons; but me, I always had to go to his house. Ever since I could remember they had been prepping for me to take over for my mother. When I was a little girl they took me away from her by the time I was age 3. They said she had too much work to do and I had too much to learn. They sent me to live with him. They told me that I would be a great women, a great leader, and the tribe would flourish because of me. They said that in return for all this glory I must know suffering to keep me grounded and humble. So they sent me to live with him.

I didn’t want to leave school that day. The school kids were in such a good mood and the sun was blazing hot outside. As I walked home I was surrounded by meadows filled with buzzing bees and the sweet perfume of the wild flowers blossoming. The sky was a rich bright blue and all the other colors around seemed dull in its contrast. The path was dry, and dusty, and my shoes got rather dirty as I shuffled. Each step and my stomach began to tighten and quiver. I wonder what lesson awaits me today. I opened the front door of the little cottage and continued through the entry to a small room where I keep my things during training. I continued to slip off my clothing and shoes, and shake my hair out of my bun. A pail of water lay next to a rag and I began to bathe myself, paying extra attention to the crevices between my legs. He hates it when I smell. I started to feel a little anxious because it was dark in the cottage and cool, and I couldn’t hear a thing. I folded my things neatly in the corner and crawled over to the middle of the room and range the gong that signaled my master. I sat with my round bottom on top of my heels with me knees bent, chest pressed out forward, and chin hung low. I stared at the gong. Hes coming.

I could always tell when he was around. He felt like a heaviness. I stared at the gong but I could see his shadow hovering over me. “Stand.” I rose slowly keeping my eyes bowed. “Lets get you in your bind, shall we?” He took black silk rope from off a hook on the wall and brought it to my side. “Bind yourself, slut.” I unwinded the rope till I found the exact middle and grabbed it with my pointer finger. I then looped the two loose strands through the loop I created with my finger and tightened the ring around the top of my breasts. I then took the loose ends and pulled them tightly in the reverse direction around my bust. This tightened the rope even more and flattened the top of my breasts. When I reached the middle of my chest I tied off the rope. I then took the loose ends and replicated the same beneath my breasts, tying it off in the middle of my chest as well. Now my breasts were flattened and pressed away from my body. He handed me another rope. I once again bound my waist as I did my bust, tying off in the center of the front of my pelvis. He handed me my ‘plug.’ It was a big round metal ball with a metal hoop protruding off one side. I looped the rope through the hoop, spit on it, and shoved it up my tight little bottom. I then pulled the rope through my legs and through my butt crack, tying it to the back of my bust, insuring the location of the ‘plug.’ Now every part of my sexes pulsed and throbbed as my breasts and pussy lips began to turn blue and swell.

They say that hundreds of years ago our tribe used to belong to a collective with the Farmers and the Barbarians. That we all used to live in peace until greed came. It separated the people and fighting began. The gods were displeased with man in his arrogance and cursed the collective with impotency. The collective could no longer have children and the fighting stopped. No more blood was shed for the collective feared that no more blood would be born in its place. One woman sacrificed herself to the gods, damning herself to infinite suffering in exchange for the progression of the collective. This was the first mother. The gods took her and we she returned the collective did not recognize her anymore. She returned in a different body, with a different voice, but the suffering in her eyes was undoubtable, it was the woman. Her breasts had grown larger, her bottom more supple, her waist tighter, her hair longer and silkier. When she walked her presence floated right up past the floor, up your leg, and deep into your sexes. All the men gawked and no man said a word. She spoke. “The gods have forgiven you, reap your reward. Each man who shares bed with me shall once again have potency.” The women of the collective became outraged. The attacked her, pulled at her silky new hair, and pulled at the clothing that held fast her voluptuous breasts. The men in shock did not know what to do and jumped in and started attacking the women. The men pulled of the women from the First Mother and began pulling off their clothes. Some men became brutes and began raping women in their asses and chanting “If you cannot bare children than all you shall bear will be suffering!” The first Mother began placing her hands amongst the foreheads of the chaotic soldiers that surrounded her. Many men and women fell to their knees as if coming out of a trance. “Children, run,” said the First Mother as she mended to the tattered souls that fight before her. Seeing the men and women drop from the touch of her hand many men hurdled together and ran off into the distance. The First Mother turned and ran, following after her children. Thus the three tribes began. The Barbarians from the brutes that fled from the Mother; the Farmers from the men and women left behind still fighting; and the mothers from the First Mother and her children. When the brutes ran off into the distance they came across a mysterious cave. Inside they found a magical crystal. When the brutes wore the crystals they found that they could produce children. They build their fort around the cave and became the Barbarians we know today. The men and women that we left behind by the First Mother continued to fight day and night for many cycles until the First Mother returned. She brought them all love and peace, and a magical spirit that made them get along. She gave them magical seeds and they began to grow. The Farmers grew everything from hemp to wheat, to herbs, to tulips, but their magical seeds bore something greater. Once a year the Farmers planted a crop of magical seeds and 10 months later children would grow. The children that ran away with the First Mother built their own village in the land furthest away. Each male child would lay with the Mother and then he would have the ability to make children. This is how my village worked for hundreds of years. Every man in the village laid with the Mother. My mother, of course, is the Mother right now. I never see her because she spends all her time with the village men. The thing that the tale of our tribe doesn’t tell is how the Mother lays with the men. My mother, him, and myself are the only people who know the full truth of the Mother’s Magic. The only way to make the man fertile again is to give him the best orgasm he could possibly have. This means that his deepest, darkest fantasy must be reenacted to perfection, and he must orgasm to his full capability somewhere in or on the Mother. The Mother, who must endure the suffering of the collective, can only have one child and it must be with her perfect man. The Mother will experience only one orgasm and to that she will get pregnant. I’m next in line. Ever since I was a little girl he has been training me to be the perfect whore.

“MMMMmmm. I love it. Your such a good whore. Tell me. Say I’m such a good little whore.”

“I’m such a good little whore.”

“Delicious. How does that plug feel in your ass slut?”

“Full, sir.”

“Good. I wanted you warm for todays lesson. Today I will be teaching you suppression of ego. You need to learn to enjoy your suffering. It is your duty. It is your place. Your ego will tell you that you do not deserve the pain. You do. Embrace the pain. Open up and give yourself to the pain.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Come.”

He led me down the hallway to his ‘playroom.’ In the middle of the room was a small in width, medium height table that stretched about 3 and half feet in length.

“Lay with your head at the edge of the table.”

I laid down with my head at the edge of the table. He tied my wrists with black silk rope and then bound them to the table by my side. He then pushed my legs up and over my head so that my knees were in my armpits. He then bound my ankles and tied them secure to the legs of the table. There I was ass and pussy straight up in the air above my face. He removed the bind that held my plug in place. He then slowly pulled out the plug. He left the bind on my breasts. I couldn’t see them but I was positive they were purple by now.

“What a beautiful slut. These holes are so beautiful. So sweet. So tight. So pink and light. I want to kiss them. But no. Instead I have another idea.”

He pulled out a large bottle of fluid. He poured it all over my holes and rubbed it all over my ass. It was wet and lubricated.  He began sliding his hand from my pussy to my ass and back again. He sped up. His fingers kept catching in my holes. Then he started slapping my pussy with his hand flat. He started sliding his hand back and forth again. Then more slapping. Then he started sliding back and forth again, this time on the way back to my asshole he slipped two fingers in. He then slipped out and started slipping back and forth again. This time again sliding two fingers in my ass.

“You like that?”

He started slapping my pussy again and then my ass cheeks. He started slapping my ass harder and harder, faster and faster, and then began sliding his hand back and forth again.