“Then where the bloody hell is she?”, he spat, through his scruffy facial hair.
“I told you Sir, we don't know” Said an angered voice.
“You bastards better find my little girl, or you’ll be finding a new home!” Bellowed the mountaineer, resentment in his rough voice. The burly man pointed towards the door.
Charles quickly exited the small, warm cabin; slamming the rotten door angrily as he did. He despised his superior, to him the man was a complete charlatan The man did have a temper and more than a few friends, so it was a good idea to do as he ordered. Out he stepped, into the bitter gale of winter. He gripped his scratched, wooden rifle tightly; The oak stock sticking to his scruffy leather gloves. His body stiffened. The cold shocked him. Each time he stepped into the frozen frontier, he would jump at the spiteful breeze.
The young man’s tough boots waded in the thick snow; the white sea swallowing him below the knee. He moped onwards, his sight set on his own meagre home; a logged box atop the frozen falls. After trudging the distance of half a mile, he stopped meters from the building. Footsteps pattered from within the forests. He turned slowly to face the huge trees of the forest, from which a string groaned and stretched. The figure was covered, their identity kept hidden under a small rough hood and tan overcoat, only slender pale eyes were visible. Charles’ heart was nearly thumping out of it’s cage.
The figure pulled harder on the bowstring as if to let it fly. Charles prepared to leap away in the hope that he might get away from these odd situation. It wasn’t unusual for native hunters to venture this far. All of a sudden, they were gone, a shadow among the trees.
He stood in silence for a minute, confused above all else.
“Fucking Natives”, he huffed into the cold air. Without warning nor regard for any preplanning, his legs took control and dragged him into the woodland after the figure, bearing no mind to the deep snow which was trying desperately to swallow him whole. Nevertheless he continued to fly past dark fir trees, occasionally receiving a punishing slap from a heavy branch. He didn't even know where he was going. He continued straight on in the hope that he might find the lone hunter. He had no idea why he was chasing. In any case, he legged his way further into the depths of the woodland.
The long scar across his jawline stung, as it was pelted with flakes of snow. He was brought to a halt, as he slammed into a wide tree trunk; he was sent spinning to the floor. After picking himself up in the hope that nobody saw that, he became aware that the opening he found himself in was perfectly circular. He observed the lack of snow in the area. The strangest thing was the long wooden arrow buried in the ground head first. It was positioned dead centre.
The butt of the arrow held three large crimson feathers and strings of beads, which dangled from all sides. It wasn't as if it were unseen and awe inspiring, it was just weird. Charles had been so distracted by this that he'd forgotten entirely about the chase. He bent down to pull the arrow from the earth. As his gloved hand gripped the shaft of the arrow, his ears twitched at the familiar sound of a bowstring stretching.
“Let go”, a female voice spoke sharply, in what sounded to the Briton like a Native Accent.
“Of course, if you would promise not to shoot me in the back.” He replied, attempting to sound far less jumpy than he most definitely was.
“Why would I not do this already?” The woman asked.
“Fair point. I'm putting my rifle on the ground okay?” , as he did so, the speaker thudded to the ground behind him, causing a small jump inside Charles; who stood slowly with both hands raised into the air.
“What are you?” , The woman asked, slowly approaching him.
“How do you know English?”, he asked, receiving a hit on the back with his own rifle which she had silently picked up.
“Answer me”, the woman shouted.
“I'm just a hunter. I live up in the hills.” He replied quickly, “please I was just chasing a-“
“You chased me.” She interrupted, poking his legs with her bow.
“Well you were going to shoot me!” He exasperated waving his arms to exclaim the point.
“I was not. I was curious.” , she continues while remaining behind the man, “I’m sure the elder will be too”. Before Charles could respond he felt something hit his skull before it went dark.
Atsila stepped nimbly along the snowy ground, carrying the tall hunter atop her shoulder. The woman barely sinked into the meter thick snow at all, as she made her way home. The man was strange to her, his voice was different to the others and she wondered where he came from. He was also pale, while the other settlers had been at least close to her own colour. She held the man’s weapon in her left hand. It was ugly. She found that these people often spent no time to make things beautiful.
She had been walking for almost an hour, when the man started to stir atop her shoulders. She set him down against a tree and stepped back into the shadows of the forest. Charles slowly opened his eyes and felt a thrashing pain in his head. He moved to grab his neck but found his hands bound together. The rope rubbed harshly against his skin and left it to sting him cruelly. He realised that his limbs were all bound and he immediately struggled to get free.
“Hello? Get these off me, please! It's freezing out here.”, he shivered as the snow fell on him.
Charles scanned the tree line before shimmying his way up the tree until he was standing. He hooked his wrists around a low hanging branch; he then rubbed the rope along the branch furiously, as it brought searing pain to him. The rope snapped after what felt like an age and he collapsed to the cold ground after his sudden loss of balance. As he bent down to untie his ankles, a female voice spoke from beyond the trees once again.
“Well done hunter”, spoke calmly as Charles remembered her doing before. He released a sigh to emphasise how pissed off he felt. The woman stepped out from the trees; for the first time he saw her without being covered in fur and leather. Instead she wore a simple hide vest and fur bottoms, with a pile of bags and sacks over her back. She was young, perhaps even younger than himself. Her face was slim and pretty, her big eyes of pale blue stared at him with an untrusting look. Her dark, long ponytail waved smoothly in the wind.
Suddenly, Charles wasn't as frightened of her, even as she held her bow to him and unsheathed a small decorated knife from her side. She cautiously walked towards him holding her knife up. “Be still.” She commanded, and Charles didn't move a muscle, he continued to stare at her in awe. She grabbed the rope between his ankles and ran the knife through it, setting his legs free from one another. As soon as she had he scrambled up to his feet and moved back into the tree. He gulped, asking “Where are you taking me?”.
“To my village. I hope you will come without being forced.” She said with a small smirk on her face.
“Then why did you hit me?”, he asked quickly.
“You would have been violent, I am sorry.” she spoke sincerely, as a less unfriendly look took its place on her features. She asked whether he would come with her again.
“Uh.. I suppose so, it depends how far and what you want with me.”, he responded after some thought.
“Good. What do I call you, and where are you from?” She asked politely, as if she had never tied him up and lugged him for miles.
“My name is Charles Long, lovely to meet you”, he stared at her for a while before jumping in, “Oh... yes I'm from England, by the coast.”
The gorgeous girl in front of him explained that her name was “Atsila” and after his several mispronunciations he found even her name was stunning. She continued to inform him of her small tribe around twenty miles from his own settlement. It’s named the Omayika tribe.
“We will have to stop and rest here”, she informed him, “We can’t navigate at night.”
Charles nodded his head yes; “Do we have any equipment to camp with?”, he asked.
Atsila pointed towards the sacks and pouches she had piled on the floor nearby. “Yes.”
“How did you carry me and all that, you can’t be that strong.”, he asked with shock, “and why are you so far from your home?” he inquired. “I was sent by the elder, Memdi, to find other foreigner homes”, she responded, ignoring the other questions.
After constructing a small teepee, which took about as long as to be expected. Then making a fire just to the front of it, the sun had gone entirely and darkness surrounded the warm flames. The cold was nearly unbearable now, Charles’ fingers had gone numb as he sat upon a log of rotten pine wood. He was jamming chunks of skinned meat onto skewers, before placing them above the fire. He didn't ask what the meat was and frankly, didn't want to know.
They had hardly spoken since the two set up camp and the time was filled with silence. Considering there was little trust between the two of them, and only attraction from one side, it's quite reasonable.
“Atsila how old might you be?”, Charles questioned suddenly.
“Why do you ask this?”, she retorted quickly; glancing at him. She moved past the fire and sat cross legged on the cold ground across from him.
“I was just curious… You look quite young after all.”
She hesitated a moment, but then spoke,” I was born twenty three years ago. Before so many of your people were here. What of your age?” She requested with a less-than-innocent look on her face. In fact she was examining his face at that moment.
“Twenty one years old, so I suppose I was wrong.”, he smiled, “You look younger, that’s all” he added.
“I will take that as a kindness”, she replied, hiding a hint of a smile.
Charles wasn't anything incredible, however his thin face could easily be called handsome; a perfectly straight nose. He was clean shaven, and his head was topped with neat and short brown hair. All upon a reasonably well built 5’10 body.
Atsila noticed this, not that she would reveal that. She had done before, but there was no reason to trust Charles.
“What was the arrow about, may I ask?” Charles said, breaking another silence, as they both gazed at one another.
“They mark the area around our territory. They are placed in a circle miles from each other. If they are not present other tribes can move into our land without knowing.” She explained, grabbing Charles’ attention. He had more questions for this mysterious native.
They continued to talk into the late night, revealing things about their personal lives and their pasts, as the night sky watched overhead. Charles told Atsila about his home and how different it was in England. They began to grow a quick fondness for one another. They talked long into the night, across from the fire. As the dark grew older, the two started to speak as if they had known one another for months rather than hours.
After their small supper the two of them agreed that the cold was too much. They both slipped inside the tight teepee, which was large enough for one at most. The warmth of the teepee compared to the outside was astonishing to Charles; the small candlelight flickered above the two of them.
“Before we sleep, why are you taking me to your village? I still don't understand.” He inquired.
“The people of the village will want to study you, how you live. It may even be that we ask you to teach your language.”
“Wait, so I have to stay? What if I want to return home?” He inquired swiftly. Atsila completely ignored his question. She moved close to him, ordering him to remove his clothing and lay his clothes outside. Charles removed his fur coat and then his thick leather shirt, revealing a toned athletic torso. His abdomen glowed in the light. Atsila observed the art in front of her for a while before she prepared to do the same.
“The rest”, she commanded. She couldn’t help smirking, as she removed her own fur overcoat, followed by removing her thin undershirt. Charles felt a twitch in his midriff, a sensation he was used to, but never understood; her supple, perky breasts fell from her garments freezing him where he stood. The first he had seen since he was but an infant. Her penny sized nipples poked out and brushed up against his solid chest.
He wanted to remove the rest of his clothing, but he was stuck admiring the paler skin covering her perfect breasts. Atsila, on the other hand, had begun to remove her lower body clothing; revealing her smooth vagina, which gleamed in the candlelight with her flowing juices. Her slender, toned thighs lead down to her gorgeous calves, which she removed from her bottoms.
Now Charles’ member strained at the restraints of his own bottoms as his excitement grew more than ever at the image of pure sexiness in front of him. “I don't know if I should-“ he began.
“Let me help you with that, Charles.”, She interrupted, reaching down to the waist of his slim fur trousers, above the large bulge stretching the material. She yanked the material down to the floor to reveal his white briefs, which were almost tearing due to the large object twitching behind themselves. Atsila got down on her knees and looked up into Charles’ wide eyes, smiling seductively as she licked her lips. Then without warning she ripped the dampening briefs from his muscled thighs. Eight inches of engorged cock swung from his waist, slapping her cheek with an oozing drip of precum.
“Shit. That’s big Charles.” She said in a loud moan, as the head rested centimetres from her lips. Her eyes were wide as she stared down the long barrel. She breathed heavily, running her hands over her incredibly stiff nipples.
“Is that a good thing?” He asked out of confusion.
“Oh, it is to me”, she replied in a seductive voice, bringing another twitch to the huge rod in front of her.
“Atsila… I've never even touched myse-“, he said, but was cut off quickly. Suddenly, she spat on her slender hand and gripped his stiff pole. “Then I'll have to introduce you and your big cock to pleasure.” She whispered, as she started to stroke his member slowly, from the base all the way to the tip. Charles groaned heavily as pleasure flashed through his body, his breaths becoming deep and slow as the incredible and unusual feeling flooded through his cock.
Atsila grabbed his large testicles, juggling them between her fingers.
“Oh Charles... you feel so big and you're all sensitive!” She moaned and giggled onto the head of his penis.
“Ugh.. Uh it feels so good”, he sighed, “I’ve never felt like this bef-“ , he shuddered hard and stumbled slightly, as a wet warmth surrounded the head of his member; sending an incredible feeling along his shaft and up into his groin, he moaned loudly “Ugh holy shit! That feels so good.”, as the gorgeous woman moved her mouth further down his long pole whilst continuously juggling his balls with her wet hand. She flicked her tongue along the width of his shaft as she moved down. Her free hand wandered down to her own midriff where she moaned at the touch on her pussy lips. She slid a finger inside of her, thrusting it in desperately. Atsila continued her envelopment of the big cock into her throat, as she began to furiously rub her clitoris. Both moaned loudly at the pleasure surrounding them. She was nearly two thirds of the way down on his cock, with his hand on the back of her head pushing her down, swallowing and contracting her throat as she went. Not once did she cough or gag; it was as if she was born for it.
Both nude bodies were sweaty and glistening in the light, as they groaned as one.
Suddenly, Charles panted “I think something’s happening… What's happening?” He began moaning louder and louder, unable to control himself. Atsila rubbed harder on her clit, moving one of her man’s arms down to massage her breast. She took his cock from her throat and mouth. She started breathing heavily, “You're about to cum Charles, and you're going to do it all over me, you’re going to cover me in that big cock juice.” She said sensually, as she bit her lip. “Just look into my eyes and let me take care of you.” She half moaned half croaked. She started to pump heavily on his cock with both her soaking hands, squeezing up and down the shaft. “Yes Charles! Yes! Give it to me, all of it!” She moaned as she stroked faster and faster.
“Oh fuck, I think it's coming! Ughhhh”, he moaned loudly, almost roaring through the pleasure as his huge cock swelled and burst after twenty one years, with the most extraordinary pleasure. A huge jet of white liquid exploded onto the face of Atsila who was almost screaming with a huge grin. She pumped harder and harder, causing more and more cum to completely coat her. Stream after stream fired onto her face and chest, dripping down her soft tits like a river of milk. Charles bellowed out in pleasure as it filled him completely. Atsila slowed the strokes and started to squeeze, as more gushes oozed from the huge cock down to her waist. She let go as the last streams had poured out. Charles collapsed down onto the soggy fur sheets in shock, gushing for air. As he lied there panting, she moved to her hands and knees, taking his length into her mouth again. Charles gasped with shock at the sensitivity of his groin as Atsila started to suck the liquid from his head and shaft, as if she needed it to stay alive. Eventually she removed her juicy lips and lied on her back, atop a panting Charles. Atsila wiped the waterfall of cum from around her eyes, allowing it to pour into her open mouth. She looked around at the bucket's worth of cum that the teepee interior. Charles’ cock began to soften under the weight of her behind as they lied there together. She swallowed a glob of thick cum, whispering to the drained man, “I think you'll stay”.
TO BE CONTINUED
