Amazonia

Confidently you stride toward the beast, the man, the thing. His broad frame is shackled at the wrist stretching him between two of the jungle trees. His glistening skin flickers in the light from the fire behind you. His whole body is one rippling mass of muscle.

His killer eyes lock with yours and he strains at the chains. They had better hold this time. Finding chains, or worked metal in your island paradise is practically impossible. ‘This is going to be risky’ you think.

Your soft hand with elegant fingers reaches out to him and you place your palm on his chest. He is so warm, so hot. He burns with a vitality and primal power unique to the beast.

You step to one side allowing the others of your tribe to see the spectacle as they sit in a perfect semicircle of beauty. The all-female eyes are on you, their Queen, as you renew your reign.

You take the whip and lash the beast’s chest. It growls and tugs at the chains. There are gasps from your subjects. Again you strike, poking this hornet’s nest of masculine rage. Your mother had never done it like this. Even consulting the wise woman there were no tales of any Queen doing it like this. But you aren’t just any Queen. You know that you will be the most royal of all your dynasty. You will rise to the divine as Queen of all Queens.

For a third time the whip lands leaving a lurid crimson trail over the beast’s chest. These are the first marks to appear on his chest and your tribe is whispering nervously. His back however is covered in lashes from when you drive him into war. To raid and subjugate the other tribes to ensure their fealty to you, Queen of Queens.

You gesture and two of your tribe, the youngest warriors, approach each of the trees. They grip their spears tight and advance, feline and wary. You step backwards, all the while keeping eye contact with the snarling beast. It is enraged. As you walk slowly away you exaggerate the movement of your hips and breathe deeply making your magnificent breasts swell. The beast is now engorged.

For those of your tribe who are present for the first time, those who were girls last moon but women this moon, there are gasps. His long flaccid member becomes erect and spear-like. You had better know what you are doing.

You stop abruptly as your heel bumps the sacrificial stone. The mighty slab is cold in the moonlight. You reach under your waistcloth and begin to rub, parting your tender lips and massaging your delicate flower bud. The soft dew comes. You withdraw your fingers and, rubbing them with your thumb, release your scent into the air. The beast catches it immediately, another reason for him to dash your soft feminine body on the hard stone.

You nod your signal to the two warriors who release his chains and hurriedly retreat spear-handed. The beast eyes them predatorily. He pulls the noosed chain from his wrists and it crumples on the sand sparking with starlight and firelight.

You unwind your waistcloth and let it drop. You release your breasts from their bindings. You spread your feet and thus your legs gently parting your sex. It tingles moistly in the cool night breeze. The beast is drawn to it. Already an animal your royal scent will drive it insane. Your only hope of safety from this force of carnal nature will be your dominance…