The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

He heard the loud blaring of the horn and felt the road shake. He lifted his head and screamed as the Semi barreled towards him, the vanity plate beneath the front grill that read “ISE-KAI” glinting ominously in the mid-day sun. The world went wash with red.

Richard bolted upright, waking from a dead sleep with a yell. He panted, sweat dripping from his brow, the only sound around him the steady pattern of rain and the riotous chirping of birds and insects. It had been three days since the accident. Three days since that truck had come out of nowhere. Three days since he’d had a good night’s sleep.

Three days since he knew where he was.

He’d been a student, living and working in the greater Seattle area, just barely making ends meet. No time for friends, no time for family, no time for fun—just work and study, work and study. There had been times when he’d wanted to get away from it all. But not like this. After the accident—had there been an accident? He remembered the truck and the horn, and then pain and darkness—he woke up and didn’t recognize his surroundings. Instead of the rainy Seattle streets, he was in a jungle seemingly thousands of miles from civilization surrounded by sky choking trees, bigger than any he had ever seen before.

Terrified and alone, he struggled to remember the things he’d learned about wilderness survival as a kid in the boy scouts. He collected rainwater from leaves and tried to stay put hoping someone would find him. But by the second day he was so hungry he had to go scavenging for food.

Unfortunately, the last time he’d gone camping was about a decade ago at jamboree, and it had been on what he was pretty sure was an entirely different continent - least he didn’t think there were any rainforests in North America—so he didn’t have much luck. So now was trying to make his way out of the jungle, doing his best to pick a consistent direction, hoping and praying that he could make it out before he starved to death or the insects ate him alive, getting snatches of sleep when he couldn’t walk anymore. Inevitably hunger and the nightmares would wake him up.

So after only a day of hiking, he was just about done, and struggling not to completely lose hope. Feet sore and limping along, he stumbled his way through the jungle towards the distant sound he thought might be water. Vines slapping at his face, gnats biting at his limbs, and hunger gnawing at his stomach—it was still an impressive display of absolutely zero situational awareness when he stepped into the snare-trap and was yanked off his feet into the air by one of his ankles. Richard flailed and screamed; world turned upside-down as he was hoisted up. There was rustling in the brush all around him, and then he saw her.

The huntress rose out of the bushes a short distance ahead of him. She was dark skinned, almost ebony, with penetrating almond eyes and black hair knotted into braids. She was also almost completely naked save for a loose cloth hung around her waist covering her loins, wraps on her hands and feet, and a cloak made of woven leaves and vegetal matter. Had he not been screaming at the top of his lungs in a blind panic, Richard might have taken a moment to note how beautiful she was—lean but shapely, with a muscular physique, and winding in red tattoos twisting around her curves suggestively. She took a few steps towards Richard and clapped a hand over his mouth, bringing a finger to her lips. “Shhh~,” she hushed. Richard stared at her wide eyed, and she smiled back. Then he felt a sharp pinch as the dart hit his neck, and his eyes rolled upward (downward?) and everything went black.

The next thing that touched his awareness was the sound and feel of cool running water. Not a shower or a bath being drawn, like he initially hoped, but a rushing river. It burbled merrily, and he could feel it running over his body. Richard opened his eyes slowly with a groan and found himself partially submerged in the river he’d been looking for. Three women, including the huntress he had seen, were gathered around him—scrubbing his body with torn bits of cloth he didn’t immediately recognize to be the remains of his shirt. His cloths were gone, and both his hands and feet were bound. He tried to scream but found himself gagged—again with pieces of his own torn cloths—and the women who had bound him hushed and patted him like he was a barking dog. Richard stopped struggling for the moment, terrified and even more confused than when he’d first woken up in this place. The women chatted together in some language he didn’t recognize, washing his naked body clean, inspecting him carefully like a piece of livestock. The other two were dark-skinned like the first, sporting the same tattoos and the same near lack of clothing. One of them rest her breasts on his shoulder and cooed softly to him, patting his hair and reassuring him with words he didn’t understand while another took hold of his junk and started to wash it.

Now, he was in no way shape or form getting turned on by this bizarre situation. That would just be absurd. But he did take a moment to… appreciate being surrounded by three giggling, naked women with the muscles and physique of professional athletes but proportions that were much more ‘generous’ than he would have expected, or even made sense. They were built like models—Instagram models, not runway models—with wide hips and large breasts to go with their extremely muscular bodies and towering height. So yes, his dick twitched of its own accord, stirring a little and drawing more soft laughter from the women around him, who encouraged him by rubbing his stomach and thighs like he was a pet. He looked to each, wild-eyed and confused. Once they were finished cleaning him—prick and all—they rolled him over and dunked his head into the river, making him splutter and cough behind his gag as they quickly washed his hair in the water and combed it with their nails. “Hmhphmhphm!” came his muffled shouts as he tried to struggle, but each of the women was much stronger than he was, and together they handled him with ease. With his continuing complaints muffled by the gag they just hoisted him up between two of them with a third taking the lead and carried him over their shoulders. Richard didn’t know where they were going and wasn’t sure he wanted to know—but then, he didn’t seem to have much choice in the matter.

Richard wasn’t sure how long they walked, or what direction they were going. He had barely been able to keep track when he had been on his own two feet. Now being slung around like a sack of potatoes, carried between two tribal women, all he could really tell was that they seemed to generally be following the track of the river, and that the forest seemed to slowly be clearing. Gradually, the world grew brighter as the tree’s thinned, and then they stepped out of the jungle. Richard couldn’t admire the scenery much, tied up and carried like he was, but he could hear the clamor of people ahead. Twisting around, he could see them approaching the outskirts of a village, built alongside the banks of the river. Sturdily constructed huts and houses made from hardwood and cob with roofs thatched from vines and leaves stood astride small gardens and farming plots, and tribal townsfolk moved hither and thither about their daily business.

Richard immediately noticed three things. One, every last one of them was a woman. Two, all of them were gorgeous, tall and muscular and tanned from the sun with figures that did not bespeak hunter-gatherer levels of sustenance struggle. Three, none of them quite looked like the next—the three that had captured him all looked more or less similar, but within the village it seemed there was a mélange of ethnicities of every possible origin Richard was familiar with, and some that he wasn’t. There were even a few that had not even tanned beneath the sun at all but were pale skinned and red haired with generously freckled skin.

Oh, and they were all staring at him, some wide eyed. A few pointed and shouted in the language he didn’t recognize, and a dull clamor began to rise as the three huntresses proudly marched him down the Main Street towards the large building in the center of the village, which Richard took to be some sort of civic or authority center.

Carried inside past the sliding wooden doors, Richard was hefted around onto a soft carpet made of some unknown animal fur and his gag was pulled free. Sat in front of him, in the center of the large central room, was a carved wooden throne, on which sat a woman who seemed older and was larger than the three girls who had carried him there. While most of the woman around him looked to be in their early twenties, she looked like she could be in her mid-thirties. With a seven-foot frame covered in muscles and old scars, she towered over even what he presumed were her guards by the spears they were armed with standing at attention nearby. Despite this, she had an almost motherly aspect to her, and like the rest of the women he’d seen was still attractive—as well as completely naked, sitting legs spread on her throne with her muff displayed brazenly without a care in the world. Richard tried not to stare.

The woman he presumed to be in charge straightened in her seat and stared at him a moment. “Uh… hey?” Richard said lamely, clearing his throat. She glanced away to the women who had brought him in, who came and stood beside him beaming proudly, gesturing towards him and announcing something. A murmur went through the room at whatever they said, but the larger woman seemed unimpressed. She glanced over her shoulder and mumbled something, gesturing forward with her fingers. On this command, another woman stepped out of the shadows behind the throne.

She was shorter than the other tribals—much shorter in fact. She was probably the only person in the room smaller than Richard, standing roughly at what he would have expected to be an average height for a woman back home. Her skin was deeply tanned by the sun, but he could tell from looking at it she’d been pale once. This and her European features, and more importantly light blonde hair and blue eyes, made her stand out from the rest. The smaller woman approached the throne-sitters side and whispered. They both looked to Richard, and the smaller woman nodded, saying something and gesturing with her hand.

The larger woman rose from her seat, walking towards the bound Richard confidently. He swallowed and looked up nervously. “L-Look, I don’t know where I am, but I’m very sorry for whatever it is I did to make you tie me up- and I would very much appreciate it if you let me go and gave me back my cloths,” he said, doing his best to keep his composure. The giantess crouched in front of him and reached out carefully to touch his chin. Richard tried to pull away but the girls standing next to him grabbed his shoulders and made him hold still. She tilted his head this way and that, looking him over carefully—even stuck a finger in his mouth and lifted his lips open to look at his teeth. Richard briefly contemplated biting her, but the feel of her strong hands so close to her neck—and the powerful muscles he could see in her frame—made him second guess that idea. Instead, he gritted his teeth and did his best to remain placid. Right until she reached down and grabbed him by the dick.

“H-hey!” he shouted, struggling again, but the women held him fast. Their ruler—that’s what he presumed she was, glanced up at him and smiled, holding a shushing finger to her lips. “Shh,” She said, fingers gently squeezing his balls. Her hands were calloused and worn, probably from a lifetime of fighting and hunting and working, but they turned to velvet in a touch. Richard was NOT getting turned on by this casual indifferent treatment (of course not!) but the feel of a hand brushing over him, kneading him, rubbing the underside of his flaccid prick with its thumb made him start to stir. “Shh shh shh,” she continued to hush, lightly stroking him with her fingers. By centimeters, his traitorous cock stirred, head peeking out of the loose skin as it grew very slightly. The woman leaned close to him now, and he could feel her breath on his neck and on his ear. “Shh shh shh,” she whispered, gently massaging him and coaxing.

This was bizarre for Richard, but the body does what it does, and he started to grow while trying to control his breath as she stroked him to a half chub. Carefully, she peeled back the loose skin around his cock and looked him over. She was examining him for defects, he realized. That or disease, maybe. Parasites? They were treating him like livestock. It made his blood chill.

The large woman seemed to be satisfied by whatever she did or did not see, because a moment later she let Richard go and stood. She lifted her arms and announced something in their language. It made no sense to Richard just as anything else he’d heard so far, but in response the women in attendance let out a small cheer, and there was applause. Turning back to the small woman, she gave an order of some kind, before walking back to her seat. The huntresses who had brought him in hauled him up to his feet, beaming, and the woman on the throne inclined her head and told them something. Now they cheered themselves, clapping and congratulating each other, before hefting Richard off the ground once more and carrying him out of the hall.

The huntresses carried him higher now, like a trophy, marching him proudly through the streets of the village towards another large building. They hadn’t bothered to re-gag him, but he thought better of doing anything with that for now. Maybe if they left him alone, he could try to chew through his bonds or something. For the time being he tried to keep track of where he was going and where they had come from, mentally plotting out a course he could use to get out of the village if and when he made an escape attempt. He didn’t know what these people wanted with him, but he was fairly certain he wouldn’t like it and needed to plan accordingly.

As the amazons carried him to the next building, Richard noticed that the small woman from the throne room was following them. Unlike the others, the cloak and hood she wore were made of linen, though like the rest aside from wrappings around her feet she was completely naked. Her tattoos were different as well, white and curving around her body, drawing the eyes to the swell of her breasts and the swoop of her hips. She had some muscle tone, but she didn’t look like she could overpower Richard as easily as the others did, being much smaller. She looked at him with her blue eyes and smiled in something resembling understanding, and for a moment Richard felt a brief pang of hope. A friendly face, maybe?

They hauled him inside what looked like some combination of a religious shrine and a medical tent. Woven beds lined the floor, and a large totemic statue carved out of solid rock dominated the end of the hall. They took him back behind the totem however, through another sliding door and into a back room that looked like someone’s bedroom or private laboratory. Jars and clay pots lined shelves alongside yellowed books, and what he swore was an aged alchemist’s alembic bubbled away on a corner table. But dominating the center was an old patchworked four poster bed that looked like it might be older than he was and was extremely out of place in the otherwise primitive surroundings—along with everything else in that room.

The women heaved him onto the bed which creaked loudly beneath him. Then the leader drew a flint knife from the sash at her hip and Richard tensed, preparing to do whatever he could to save his own life. Fortunately, it didn’t come to that as instead of stabbing him or whatever he thought she was going to do, instead she cut the bonds that had been tied around his wrists and ankles. Richard sat up in surprise, rubbing his wrists and starring in confusion. The small blonde woman entered and spoke with the huntress leader for a moment, before she nodded, looked to Richard with a smile and blew him a kiss. Then she left, the other two marching in tow. He could swear their hips were swaying as they left.

Richard stared after them then looked at the small blonde woman nervously. This was the first time he’d been alone with any of them, and he was wondering if he should take the opportunity and… attack her or something. He didn’t like the idea, but then he liked being a captive less, and she seemed the least physically imposing of any person he’d seen since he came here. The woman, for her part, just smiled back at him soothingly and pulled up a chair, sitting daintily and crossing her legs knee to knee, folding her hands in her lap like a proper lady—a comical juxtaposition to her nudity. Then, looking him in the eye, she took in a deep breath and slowly spoke.

“Can you understand me?” she asked in heavily accented English, what sounded like a mixture of French and something else he couldn’t place. Richards eyes widened and he gawped, momentarily stunned, before he nodded excitedly. “Yes, Yes, oh God yes, you speak English? Holy shit thank you Jesus,” he swore, awkwardly trying to cover himself with his hands while sitting up straight. The woman smiled. “Yes, surely our meeting is blessed by the Lord,” she said, “but this is besides the point. You are an Englishman?” Richard shook his head, overjoyed to meet someone he could understand. “American. Who are you? Where am I? What is this place?” He stumbled over his words, too excited to keep them straight. “Wh- why am I here? What are they going to do with me?”

The woman tilted her head a moment in confusion. “Ameri…ah! The United States. Oh, of course. So, close to an Englishman. That is good. It is good I remember. Now please, slow down, I know you are confused. My name is Annette, and I will help you.” Richard shook a little with barely constrained excitement. Annette shifted in her seat and lifted a bowl from the small table behind her. It was filled with a liquid of some kind, with a faint green hue. She passed it to Richard who eyed it suspiciously. “Drink, it is fresh,” she said. That didn’t explain much, but Richard drank it without complaint. It tasted like water, with a slight grassy and bitter finish. He found he was thirsty and downed all of it before handing the bowl back. Annette smiled. “Good. Now, can you tell me your name?” she asked, setting the bowl back down behind her.

It didn’t even occur to him at the time that drinking strange concoctions handed to him by naked French women might be a bad idea.

“Richard, my names Richard. I don’t—I don’t know where I am, or how I got here, or what this place is or what’s going on. Those women found me in the jungle and kidnapped me,” he complained, shifting on the bed. “They also took my cloths.” Annette chuckled softly and shook her head. “You should be glad that they did. Found you, and took you, I mean. The wilds are a dangerous place, especially for lone men. As for the cloths, well… you may have noticed, little is worn here.” She glanced down at her own nudity briefly and smiled. Richard followed her gaze and blushed, snapping his eyes back up to her face. Annette only seemed amused by this and shifted in her seat. “I do not know a name to give you, for where you are. Nor can I explain to you where in relation to your home you have some. The locals merely call it ‘this land’, and here they have dwelled knowing nothing of the worlds of you or I. Like you, I was once a stranger here, until the Wawaki took me in.”

“The Wawaki?” Richard echoed, crossing his legs ankle to knee and listening attentively as he tried to look anywhere else but Annette’s naked, curvy body. “That is the name of this particular tribe of native inhabitants,” she explained, “In this place which they call ‘this Land,’ but which I believe to be the Garden of Eden.” Richard furrowed his brow at her. “The uh… Garden of Eden?” he asked, suddenly feeling slightly concerned. Annette nodded enthusiastically. “Of course! The place of plenty where man once dwelled before his sin cast him out. For here there is plenty and no need to wear cloths to hide our shame, and here the people do not age—well, very little in any case—and are all healthy and strong and pleasing to look on.” She beamed. “Oh, Richard, you are incredibly lucky to have been brought here by our Lord as I was. And the Wawaki are lucky to receive you! It is an auspicious day.”

Richard swallowed, giving Annette the side-eye. Of course. The Garden of Eden. Where everyone was an immortal supermodel. Great, perfect. The only person who spoke English and she was a lunatic. “S-so uh… how do I leave?” he asked. Annette chuckled and shook her head. “Why would you want to leave? You have found a wonderful place, Richard. I understand, you are frightened and confused, but do not worry. I will be here to guide you and help you. It will be good to speak to another born of the outside world again, even if you are an Englishman,” she chuckled. “Besides,” she added, “If there is a way out of this land, I do not know what it is. I have been here at least… twenty years, perhaps?” She tilted her head, considering.

Richard felt his heart thundering in his chest. Twenty years?! “W-well, what year was it when you… uh… how did you get here anyway?” Annette sighed and clasped her hand to her chest. “Ah, much the same as you, I expect. I was approached by death, and in the last moments, the Lord whisked me away. Struck by a carriage, you see- I would have been crushed. I know not driven by whom, except perhaps providence. But regardless, when last I beheld the outside world, it was the year of our lord 1792. My home was being consumed by strife as the people rebelled against our King, and the Lord saw fit to draw me away from that fate and to another.” Richard stared at her, eyes growing increasingly wide as she explained. His heart wasn’t pounding anymore—now it had seized up and frozen solid in his throat. “S-seventeen… ninety-two?” he stammered, breaking out into a cold sweat. Annette nodded solemnly. “Yes, though as I said, that was at least twenty years ago.” Twenty years. Twenty years!? More like two hundred!

Richard felt lightheaded. “You, uh… that can’t… t-that can’t be right,” he stammered, reaching up to cover his face with his hands, trembling. Annette reached out and rested a soothing hand on his knee. “It’s alright, Richard. You are here now, you’re safe now. I know not what circumstances brought you here, but I do know that you are blessed among men. Both to have come here, and to have been found by the Wawaki, who will take good care of you. Men are rare and precious among the people here, and you are healthy and young. There is much good that can be done,” she smiled mysteriously. “For you and for the tribe,” she added, hand gently rubbing his leg. Richard felt increasingly woozy. “Do… for the tribe?” he asked, finding his words were slurring. That was odd. He tipped backwards and Annette caught him, gently laying him back onto the bed. “Yes Richard, wonderful things,” she said, her beautiful face beaming. “For you are a young and virile man, untouched by… corruption and other things. You can serve the Tribe well as God intended for men here to serve.”

“Me… serve?” he murmured, eyes fluttering. Why was he… why was he suddenly so weak? Annette carefully arranged him on the bed, resting his arms at his side before stroking his chest and cooing softly. “Yes Richard, you will serve wonderfully, beautifully. Just as I have learned to serve the Wawaki as a medicine woman, you will learn to serve them—and they you—as a breeder.” Annette smiled broadly, showing off pretty white teeth. Richard felt a black pit swallowing him up. The drink— “And you will sire many beautiful daughters, perhaps even before the day is out,” she giggled, and Richard blacked out.

Richard dreamed of… strange things. Sweaty things. Bodies writhing in the dark, feminine bodies. Grinding against him, moaning. Whispering things, he couldn’t understand into his ear. He groaned and bucked, trying to thrust against them, to sheath himself in their silken bodies. But they kept squirming out of reach.

He felt himself swallowing—more grassy tasting water. And other things too, strange clumpy pills, and a drink with a bitter floral note at the end, like some sort of herbal tea. Fingers stroked his chest and cooed softly to him. It was good to take the things that he was given. Good Richard, handsome Richard. A stud among men. He grinned in his sleep, feeling his cock flex in his sleep. He was so BIG. And so full too, his balls roiling. So full….

When Richard awoke, he was bound once more, this time by the wrists to the posters of the bed. The ties were fabric of some kind—silk?—and done firmly but in such a way they didn’t dig into his skin or constrict blood flow. He struggled with them briefly, panting. He felt hot, like he was burning up. Looking down, he saw that he was still naked—and what’s more he was hard. His dick was swollen, painfully erect, standing straight up and straining purple. It waggled a little as he moved, and he could swear it was... bigger than he remembered it being.

He heard a rustling, and Annette entered the room. She smiled down at him, he glared back. “You drugged me!” he accused, jerking at his bonds, dick wobbling back and forth. She brushed some of her blonde hair over her shoulder and walked over to sit down beside him on the bed. “Shhh,” she hushed, pressing a finger to his lips. He was really starting to get sick of being shushed. But her other hand—he felt her fingers brush over his stomach, and he shivered, and realized how sensitive he was. Hot all over, flesh tingling—Annette ran her hand down his stomach and took hold of his cock, giving it a squeeze that made his eyes roll up. She giggled softly at his moan, pumping him up and down slowly. “It’s alright. I am sorry if you feel deceived but believe me it is for the better. The things I have done will help you with the time that is to come.” She glanced down at his dick, twitching in her hand, and smiled—licking her lips a little. “The Wawaki are good to their men. You will have a blessed life here among them, as I have,” she purred, rubbing the underside of his crown with her thumb, making him whimper and buck against her hand. His penis drooled. God, he was so hot!

“I used to be a Nun, you know,” she said with a wistful smile, turning to grope and fondle his balls as she teased his twitching stud-rod with the gentle stroking of her fingers. She kneaded the swollen, needy orbs gently, coaxing them into relaxation and making Richard groan wantonly. “Not a particularly good one, admittedly. I was distracted… by impure thoughts. Some about men. Many about my fellow sisters… I feared more than anything else I would harm another.” The sound of her hand slipping up and down his throbbing shaft became slickened as he dribbled pre-cum over her hand from the tip. Richard bucked, whimpering. So close… “So I was overjoyed when I found this place, and truly understood what the Lord held in store for me here,” Annette continued casually as she worked Richard into a froth, writhing on the bed and panting with need. She sighed and leaned over him, nuzzling her cheek against his cock, pressing her nose against his balls and breathing deeply. “I wish I could be your first… the one to take you and feel you throb inside of me, to milk your first spurts in offering to the Wawaki with my womanly channel... Mmm, it would be so nice for both of us… but the Chieftess has spoken.” She lifted her head and gave his dick a little kiss. He twitched and writhed in her hand urgently. “First, you will breed the Huntresses who found you, as a reward for their gift to the tribe. After that… well, perhaps she will take you herself. It has been a while since she was with child.”

Richard gurgled, barely able to make sense of her words as his mind was addled with lust and whatever drugs she had given him. All of that sounded heavenly to him now. Anything that involved his dick sounded heavenly—he needed to FUCK! To BREED! He whined piteously as Annette released him, shaking his hips. “Hush now, she comes soon—and so shall you,” she giggled, rising from the bed. Outside, Richard could hear singing, the women of the village softly hymning in chorus. It was evening now, judging by the light, with the last amber spears of the sun flitting through the cracks. He didn’t feel hungry, or thirsty like he knew he should. Maybe they had fed him while he was unconscious? Otherwise it had been three days since he’d eaten anything, and he should be starving. Instead he just felt nervous, energized. And horny, so horny. He groaned, dick flexing in the air. Annette giggled and teased the tip, swirling her finger around the crown in a way that made Richard shiver with delight. He wished she’d touch him more, let him cum. On her, inside her, anywhere—he just had to cum!

The singing outside grew in pitch and there were a few cheers. Annette could hear the footsteps of sisters approaching the room in the back of the shrine and turned to greet them with a smile. In entered the first Huntress Richard had seen back when they had first snared him by the river, now sans her ‘cloths’ such as they were and adorned with body paint that decorated her forehead, arms, breasts, and the space over her womb. Annette greeted her enthusiastically, walking over to clasp hands.

“Are you ready, Sister?” she asked in their tongue. The Huntress smiled, and kissed Annette on the lips. Richard looked on mystified and increasingly addled by his own horniness, as Annette moaned into the kiss and slipped her arms around the huntress. “Kiajah, I’m so happy for you,” she murmured, nipping at the amazon’s lips before trailing her mouth down her neck. Kiajah sighed softly and wrapped her arms around Annette, tilting her head to better receive the attentions of Annette’s mouth, arm loosely circling the medicine woman’s waist to grope her ass. Richard watched as the two embraced each other passionately, kissing and stroking each other’s bodies, moaning softly to each other in their tongue. His dick twitched in time with his heartbeat, entranced by the sight.

“Ready as I’ll ever be, dear one,” Kiajah sighed, closing her eyes as she felt Annette’s lips wrap around one of her nipples, shivering at the sensation of her teeth lightly scraping the puckered flesh and sucking as Annette slid two of her fingers along Kiajahs moistening slit. Annette slid her mouth off Kiajah with a pop before giving the breast a parting kiss. “Not quite,” she panted, turning back to her worktable, fetching another bowl of one of the potions she had already fed to Richard while he was comatose. She turned and presented the bowl to Kiajah, who dutifully accepted it with a bow of her head and drank the potion down, grimacing slightly at the taste. Annette stepped around the tribes woman, brushing her fingers over her painted stomach, stopping behind her and resting her chin on Kiajah’s shoulder. “A potion of Graia root, just as I fed the male. It will prepare your body for breeding,” she murmured, stroking Kiajah’s hip and kissing her cheek. The huntress moaned softly; she could already feel the tonic taking effect. Her nipples puckered, and she felt herself moisten—and not just from Annette intimate touches, which had once again returned to her sensitive spots as the amorous medicine woman planted kisses along her neck. “You know what to do with him?” Annette asked, breath tickling Kiajah’s ear as her fingers once more dipped into her pussy, making her shut her eyes and groan softly as the smaller woman teased her body. “T…Take his root within me, squeeze it, m-milk it… until we find release and he- he fills me,” she panted, eyeing Richard lustfully, who was practically drooling watching the two.

Annette smiled and slipped her fingers from Kiajah’s womanhood. “Good, now go! Claim your first male!” she chuckled, slapping the huntress lightly on the ass, making her jump smile. She looked back at Annette and grinned mischievously, before advancing on Richard, hips swaying. “Hello little male,” she crooned, even though Richard did not speak their tongue. He was entranced by the sight of her—tall, strong, and feminine, her muscles rippling like a hunting cat beneath soft skin and feminine curves. His dick pulsed. Kiajah looked down at him and smirked, crawling onto the bed. Her breasts swayed pendulously, and Richard groaned. “So, this is your… hmm… what was it called, Phallus?” Kiajah whispered, reaching up to take hold of Richards trembling shaft. He moaned as she squeezed it, giving it an experimental pump, tip beading heavily with pre-cum. Looking up at him with fierce eyes, she leaned in and licked the tip clean. “Mm, the waters of life… not so sweet tasting, but then medicine seldom is,” she mused, Richard whimpering and squirming at the feel of her tongue and hand on him.

She crawled up his body, dragging her breasts across his chest, admiring the sight of his pale skin against her dark brown. He was like Annette when she first came here—pale and slight, shaking like a leaf. But he was a man, and he smelled different, felt different, tasted different. She tried kissing him, and Richard moaned into the kiss, surrendering immediately as her tongue slid against his and pinned it to the corner of his mouth. Chuckling in her throat, she pumped him in her hand, moving to straddle him. “I’ve had toys inside me before of course, but you will be my first male. My first breeder. Are you honored? You should be,” she whispered. Richard was uncomprehending, and far gone besides. He only moaned and lifted his hips against her hand, trembling at the sensation of her stroking his body possessively. Biting her lip, Kiajah lined Richards shaft against her slit, stirring his angry purple crown up and down against her entrance. He was leaking copious amounts of lubrication, and with Annette’s teasing and the potion she’d had her drink, Kiajah could feel her own inner wellspring seeping as well. With a soft exhale, she slotted him inside of her, and slowly pushed down.

Richard threw his head back and groaned. Tight! She was so tight! Tight and hot and silky and her muscles squeezed around him like a vice, rippling as they drew him in deeper and deeper. Kiajah’s breath caught as she felt the hot, throbbing rod enter her body. The potion had made her more sensitive, more eager. Her pussy drooled hungrily over Richards offering, gobbling up his fat swollen cock and swallowing it into her depths like a beast swallowing its prey. With a growl, she shoved down, hips impacting his with a load smack. Richard arched his back and mewled, toes curling in pleasure as she hilted him. Annette looked on panting, fingering herself as she watched Kiajah claim the male—the way the muscles rippled in her back and thighs, the way her ass jiggled when she slammed down onto his lap. She wished she could join them. Instead she could only watch and tease her poor empty pussy as Kiajah moaned and ground against Richard, arching her back exhultantly as she started to slowly and steadily ride him.

Richard gurgled, eyes glued to Kiajah’s dark chocolate breasts bobbing above him, enraptured by the feeling of her cunt wringing his dick from base to tip. The old bed, an anachronism salvaged from another world, squeaked softly beneath them. Kiajah bit her lip and sighed, giving her hips a swirl to stir Richard around inside of her, using his cock like a toy. Richard could only moan and go cross-eyed with pleasure as she rode him, mouth hanging open. The huntress laughed softly, watching the silly expressions on the mans face as she fucked him. “Mmh, silly little male, loses to pussy so easily,” she chuckled, leaning down to lick his neck, breasts bouncing against his chest as she started to ride him more forcefully. “You belong to us now,” she hissed into his ear, biting it softly, “your cock belongs to us, and we will fuck you whenever we see fit, and you’ll love every minute of it.”

Annette whimpered, fingering herself faster. That wasn’t… quite true, as a male Richard did have rights—he was a possession yes, but a prized one. He would be used and bred very carefully, not just fucked ragged like some tribes did with their males. The Wawaki were very careful to shepherd their male populations which let them prosper in times when there were fewer of them to go around. Still, Richard couldn’t possibly understand what she was saying to him. Anyway the both of them seemed to be enjoying the play, and as Annette watched Kiajah fuck Richard senseless she finally came herself, moisture trickling down her thighs as she stifled a cry with her hand. The bed was squawking loudly now as Kiajah moaned and rutted herself on Richards prick, building towards the first of many explosive orgasms that would drain Richards balls. After that he’d need to be fed and watered again, and prepared for his next breeding the following night.

Kiajah let out an exultant cry, tightening as she felt Richard cum inside her for the first time, his hot cum spurting into her depths. Drawn out of his churning manhood in copious amounts, Richard went slack jawed as he came and came, but did not go soft. Kiajah just kept riding him, grabbing him by his hair and shoulders as he flopped cumming beneath her, eyes rolling up into his head from the force of the orgasm and the continued pleasurable stimulation. Whatever potion Annette had fed the both of themeliminated the refractory period as a concern, so huffing and moaning and cumming herself, Kiajah kept riding. Annette watched in admiration as her ass bounced off Richards thighs, and quietly excused herself out the sliding door before she started to finger herself again. Better to give the two a bit of privacy, she thought, the grunts and cries muffling behind her as she slid the door shut. It was only the first time, after all. Many more to go.