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Liz McDonald was 43 and was an environmental scientist. She had received a grant and permission to visit the Amazon rain forest to study the deterioration of the ecosystem because of man’s increasing incursion into the jungle.
Liz was excited for the opportunity but also happy and proud that her daughter Julie was along for the trip. Julie had expressed an interest in following her mother’s footsteps and planned to enroll in college after the trip was completed.
They were among a dozen other scientists and researchers. Their guides led them by boat up the Amazon and then by trail deep into the jungle. They were about a week into their journey and the information they were gathering had them all excited.
While there were dangers in the jungle, Liz had experience as an explorer and put caution ahead of all else. On this particular day, mother and daughter had ventured away from the base camp; others in their party were also exploring in groups of two and three.
Shortly before noon Liz and Julie noticed the light disappearing. Through the canopy of trees they could make out dark storm clouds. Soon thunder and lightning took over followed by a downpour. They took shelter under a rock out cropping but they still found themselves soaked. The rain, though, was warm and they smiled at each other over the inconvenience of wet clothing.
Once the storm passed and the surroundings lit up, Liz tried to regain her bearings. She checked her compass; unfortunately and unknown for mother and daughter, the rock shelter had been magnetized and the compass failed to give an accurate reading. Thinking she knew the way back to camp, Liz and her daughter began moving along a narrow path.
As they pushed their way through some overhanging vines and leaves, Liz and Julie reached a small clearing … and were confronted by a half dozen native women.
Liz immediately recognized the tribe commonly known as Amazons. Their existence was considered a myth. However, all six of the women were at least 6 feet tall with physiques any physical trainer would envy. They carried spears and two of the women had small pigs that had been killed and were now slung over their shoulders. They wore animal skin coverings that were draped and held up by ties fashioned from vines or ropes fashioned from the environment.
The natives stared at the two white women. Liz had jet black hair and fair skin; her daughter was also fair skinned but her hair was more brunette. Both had their hair pulled up and tucked under their hats.
Liz tried to communicate.
“Hello … we’re exploring and learning about your land … this is my daughter.”
The natives continued to stare and offered no reply … until the one in front, apparently the leader, lowered her spear and pointed it at Liz. Her eyes widened and her heart quickened at this threat.
“We mean no harm … please … don’t hurt us.”
“Mom, what’s going on?”
“I don’t know dear. We just need to stay calm.”
The native with the spear took a step forward, the spear till aimed at the two visitors. Then she motioned the spear toward a path from the clearing. Liz and Julie didn’t move. The native took another step closer; the spear was just inches from mother and daughter. Again, the motion was made toward the path.
“Mom, I think we need to do what they say,” Julie said, her voice quivering.
They walked – or marched – for over an hour. The leader was right behind Liz and Julie, her spear aimed at their backs, as they briskly moved over the narrow path. Liz and Julie were breathing hard; their back packs contained some research equipment and the added weight made the trek difficult even though both women worked out regularly and were in outstanding condition.
The leader noticed that both of their “guests” legs were lean, shapely and muscular. Both were attractive and quite petite in comparison to the native women. The leader allowed herself a slight smile as her mind contemplated the welcome she would receive for bringing back such unexpected prizes from the hunting expedition.
Finally, they reached a large clearing. Liz glanced up and noticed that the huge trees surrounding the clearing had leafy canopies that covered the area. Only dapples of sunlight made it through; the clearing was invisible from the air.
There were half a dozen huts around the clearing’s perimeter and one that was larger. A number of lean-to tents also were scattered about the area.
Three women emerged from the larger hut. One was about 6-foot-4 and had the confident stride of a person who is in charge. Unlike the other women, her clothing was cloth-like plus she had colorful shells on a necklace around her neck and some feathers in her hair.
The leader of the tribe started conversing with the leader of the hunting party. Liz and Julie obviously had no clue what was being said although they instinctively knew it was about them.
Just then two more hunting parties returned, each with a half güvenilir bahis dozen members. Soon Liz and Julie were surrounded by the native women, all of whom were tall, muscular and buxom.
The leader said something, and mother and daughter were each approached by three natives. Two grabbed the straps of their backpacks and pulled them away despite the efforts of the two captives.
“Hey, don’t, that’s our stuff … our research,” Liz sputtered as the packs were pulled away and passed along until they disappeared outside the group.
Julie was then dragged to the edge of the group, her arms held in vice-like grips of two natives.
“MOOOOOM, help,” she cried.
Before Liz could move to offer aid, she, too was grabbed by the arms. She tried to kick at her captors, but the leader approached and gave Liz two stinging slaps to her face with an open palm. She pointed her finger at Liz’s face and slowly wagged it back and forth. Liz was stunned and momentarily breathless, but she got the message.
The slaps had knocked her hat askew and the leader plucked it from her head. Her hands went to Liz’s hair, her fingers massaging through the strands until she found the fastening pinning it up. That was removed and her shoulder-length hair was freed.
The chief looked Liz in the eyes and Liz felt a chill and a tingle go down her spine. The woman’s gaze was superior, controlling and lustful. Her large hands returned to Liz’s head, fingers running through her hair and then down over her face, lightly touching her cheeks, her eyebrows. The native’s index finger traced Liz’s lips.
Liz’s breath caught in her throat and then she found her voice. “What … what are you doing? Please let us go. … Don’t touch me, please.”
Her words sounded loud in the quiet of the clearing. Julie struggled in the grip of the two natives. “Leave my mom alone … let us go … we haven’t done anything to you … please.”
Compared to their captors, Liz and Julie felt like children; they were at least half a foot or more shorter than the women who surrounded them. There was little question how much control the natives had and how little control their captives had.
The chief’s strong hands moved from Liz’s face to her shoulders and then her upper arms, squeezing as she went. She appeared to approve of the firmness and muscle tone.
A brief command was spoken and the natives holding Liz released their grip but still stood close by. Liz realized her freedom from being held meant little to her overall situation. She looked up and noticed that the chief’s hands were touching her own covering and seemed to be pantomiming that she wanted Liz to remove her shirt.
Liz again felt the chill/thrill up her spine and this time there was a tingle in her breasts. The realization was dawning on her that she and her daughter were being held by a tribe of Amazons who were lesbians.
“NOOOOO, please, don’t make me do that,” Liz said, her eyes fearful as her mind raced with the possibilities. She had enjoyed a few sexual encounters with women, but she doubted her daughter had experimented.
The slight smile on the chief’s face disappeared into a stern look. Her large hands reached and grabbed Liz’s shirt and ripped it open, buttons flying. Liz’s hands tried to grab at the sides of the shirt, but the two assistants stepped forward and helped yank and tear the blouse down her arms and off.
Liz’s crossed her arms protectively over her camisole top. She suddenly noticed the chief holding a knife and thought, “Where did that come from?” The chief pointed the knife at her hands until the point touched skin. Liz understood the meaning and dropped her arms to her side.
Her camisole was damp and was clinging to her 34-c cup breasts. The nipples were evident, the fear and the latent excitement of the situation causing them to harden. The chief grabbed the bottom of the garment, slipped the knife against the cloth and sliced it; she then grabbed it and ripped it open, exposing Liz’s heaving breasts.
“MOOOOM, Oh, god … Leave her alone,” Julie cried, her eyes wide as she saw her mother’s breasts for the first time. She had to admit they were very attractive, without much sag. Julie started to wonder about their fate as it was obvious these native women were interested in their bodies as sexual play things.
Liz grabbed the ruined camisole and pulled it together to cover her breasts. The chief gave a command and the two natives on each side of Liz attacked her shorts, yanking open the belt and then grabbing from each side until there was a loud tearing sound as the material gave way to the strength of the two natives. When Liz moved to try and grab hold of her shorts, one of the women grabbed the back of her torn top and pulled it off and away. Her cotton panties went the way of her shorts, grabbed and ripped free by two pairs of strong hands.
Liz was naked but for her socks and hiking boots. The chief turned to the leader of the hunting party that had captured türkçe bahis the prey and said something. The six members of the hunting party then approached Liz, grabbed her by the wrists and led her toward one of the huts.
“MOOOOMMMM,” Julie yelled, “I’m scared.”
Looking back over her shoulder, Liz looked at her daughter but could think of nothing to say.
The chief turned and approached Julie who was still being held by two natives. The chief pulled the ball cap from her head and freed her hair from the bun. Her hands then immediately cupped Julie’s breasts through her t-shirt.
“Aahhhhmmm, ahhhh, noooo, don’t, please,” Julie pleaded as the woman’s strong and demanding hands mashed and molded her firm mounds, her thumbs flicking over the hardening nipples. Julie’s body shuddered and she was surprised to feel a tingling sensation between her legs. She wasn’t a virgin but had never thought about having sex with a woman … or women.
The chief’s hands moved to the neckline of Julie’s t-shirt. The shirt was tugged and pulled until the cloth eventually gave way with a loud ripping sound. The natives holding Julie’s arms helped, grabbing the back of the shirt, adding their strength to the job as the shirt came apart in three different directions.
Her stretchy sports bra proved a tougher challenge. The chief and her helpers pulled and yanked as it stretched away from Julie’s body. But as the chief pulled from the front and another native from the back, the material finally was overwhelmed. Luckily for Julie, she couldn’t see the lusty look on the chief’s face as she gazed at the firm, white mounds with the upturned pink nipples that jiggled slightly as they were freed.
The chief gave the same command she had given minutes earlier and the two natives holding Julie attacked her shorts, ripping them apart, followed by her panties. The chief then grabbed her wrist and pulled her toward the large hut with half a dozen natives following.
Liz could hear her daughter’s voice protesting and the sound of ripping cloth. She knew her daughter was now naked and could only guess what was to happen next.
The natives dragged/pulled Liz into a hut that was semi-dark. She was pushed toward the center of the hut, her wrists were tied and then attached to a rope from a center rafter in the hut. Her hands were raised until they were just above her head. She had the ability to move about but not much.
All of the women left the hut but for the leader of the hunting party that had captured the mother and the daughter. Liz watched as the native loosened the ties holding up her coverings, which dropped to the floor. Liz’s breath caught at the site of the woman’s body. Her breasts stood proud, full and firm. The areolas were darker than the surrounding flesh and her nipples were thimble sized and prominent. Her body was taut and lean.
The native picked up a staff that had a bright feather tied to one end. Standing a few feet from Liz, the woman extended the feather so that it brushed over Liz’s face. She turned away. The native grinned and moved the feather so that it traced up Liz’s arm, then down to her arm pit. She shivered at the light ticklish touch. Liz continued to turn her body to escape the feather’s touch but there were always skin for the native to tickle.
After a few minutes of that game, the native put the feather toy aside and approached Liz, who backed away as far as her restraint would allow. The woman grabbed Liz’s upper arms to hold her still. Liz was nearly at eye level to the native’s large breasts, which were rising and falling with her steady breathing.
The native grabbed Liz’s hair and yanked her head back, bringing a gasp from the captive. The native leaned down and stuck out her pink tongue, lightly tracing Liz’s clenched lips, then up across her cheek to her earlobe. The native’s other hand moved down to cup Liz’s left breast; gently at first but then slowly mashing her hand against the fleshy globe and against Liz’s now heaving chest.
The native then pulled away and reached for the rope. She adjusted it so that Liz’s hands were pulled higher above her head. The native then tied each of Liz’s ankles to stakes so that her legs were spread. What had been limited mobility was gone.
“What … NOOOO. Please … let me go,” Liz gasped as she stood in her restraints, her breath coming in gasps. She realized that her body was tingling and that her pussy was moist. She looked down to notice that her nipples were hardened buttons.
The native picked up the feather tool again and this time stood closer to Liz, who was unable to move away as she did before. The woman used the tip of the feather to again brush across Liz’s face, her ears, neck, up and down her arms. The light, teasing touch was raising goose bumps on Liz’s skin as the native moved it over the captive’s body.
Liz saw the woman move around behind her and then felt the feather on her right shoulder. She shivered as the teasing touch güvenilir bahis siteleri made its way down and across her back, moving side to side, up and down until it reached her ass.
Liz realized how stifling it was inside hut. The jungle heat and humidity was causing Liz to sweat, the beads starting to run down from her hairline, across her face and down her body. The sexual heat that was being raised also contributed.
The native moved the feather down to behind Liz’s knee, a sensitive spot. Liz gasped and her body jumped as the feather started to slowly stroke its way up the back of her left thigh. The woman walked in front of Liz, the feather trailing over Liz’s skin, then up and down the inside of her thighs. She closed her eyes and realized that the teasing, tortuous foreplay was winding up her sexual spring.
As her mother was dealing with a one-on-one sensual encounter, Julie’s experience was different. Unable to pull away from the chief’s iron grip, Julie had been dragged into the camp’s largest hut, followed by the rest of the tribe.
In the middle of the structure was a flattened mound of dirt covered with animal skins. It was about waist high, about 3 feet long and about 18 inches wide. It was fairly flat but slightly curved upward. There were four strong stakes about 2 feet from each corner.
Julie was dragged to the “bed” and forced to lie down so that her head was at one end and just part of her ass was on the edge at the other end. In moments, her hands were tied to two of the posts and her ankles to the other two. Her boots and socks were pulled off.
Tied spread-eagled, her legs splayed, she felt more vulnerable than she ever had. “Please, please … what are you gonna do?”
Her head thrashed from side to side, her hair whipping and she noticed that all of the natives were now naked. Other than different hair lengths and different faces, Julie could tell no differences between the two dozen women encircling her. Their bodies were all similar – large, full breasts, taut torsos and sinewy arms and legs.
The native women crowded around Julie. On each side, a native was holding a large wooden bowl. The women dipped their hands in the bowl and started rubbing the liquid on Julie’s body. It was a fragrant, slippery substance.
“AAAHHGGAAAWWWDDD,” Julie gasped. There were strong hands seemingly everywhere on her body, rubbing, stroking, massaging and teasing her skin.
Her pert breasts were flattened because she was on her back, but the hands were making sure her nipples were hardening. The sensitive nubs grew and hardened as the natives moved over her breasts, flattening the nipples slowly and then letting them pop back up. There were fingers twisting her nips, flicking them as the slippery liquid helped slicken the access.
Julie was gasping for breath, her stomach heaving as the hands moved over her arms, her torso, up and down her legs. Two natives standing by her head stroked her face lightly, running their fingers and thumbs over her full lips, massaging the oil into her hair and scalp.
The chief was positioned between Julie’s legs and at first was just observing her crew working over their captive’s body. As the girl’s body writhed, the chief cupped her hands and dipped into the bowl of liquid. She deposited the liquid on Julie’s cunt mound.
Julie’s head snapped up and she looked down her torso, through the hands that were moving over her breasts and body. The feeling of the liquid on her pussy seemed to ignite all of the nerve endings in her body and she felt a sexual tension that she knew would only release through an orgasm.
The chief started rubbing the oil into Julie’s pubic hair. Her strong hands moved up and down the insides of her thighs, feeling the taut tendons that were tensing into ropes under her skin. The liquid had covered the top of Julie’s cunt and was slipping between her labia. The chief’s index finger followed the trail, starting at the top of Julie’s pussy, she traced down between the cunt lips to Julie’s ass hole. The finger teased that orifice, rimming it and then inserting itself one knuckle deep.
“IIIIIEEAAAAHHHH,” Julie screeched as a mini orgasm rattled her nervous system. As her body vibrated like a plucked guitar string, two natives bent down and attached their mouths to her breasts. Julie’s eyes popped open and she looked to see two black mouths suckling on her rock hard pink nipples. Her head was pulled back and one of the natives near her head leaned down and kissed Julie’s gasping mouth.
The chief knelt, bringing her face level with Julie’s pussy, which also was gasping as it reacted to the orgasm. The native’s eyes twinkled as she gazed upon the lovely center of feminine essence. The labia were slickened by the oil and the secretions of sexual arousal, but they were still close together, a defined slit.
Using her thumbs, the chief started at the top of Julie’s pussy and pulled open the lips to expose the coral-colored inside of the vagina. Julie shuddered as she felt her cunt was split open.
At the top of the slit, the chief could see the pearl of Julie’s clit starting to peak out of its hood. She moved the thumb of her right hand back up to the small nob of flesh.
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