Eva and the Black Amazons Pt. 02

"Go ahead, Miss. Samba has suffered worse pains", the black leader said proudly.

Eva proceeded speedily. She sterilized a needle, the rings and the tongue stud; pinching the left nipple, she inserted the ring and pressed its ends together. The same was done to the other nipple; Samba had not moved a muscle on her face, even if she felt a burning sensation – she would bear anything not to show weakness in front of the white lady, and much less with a fellow Amazon watching.

"Excellent, Samba! Now stretch your tongue. Sheera, hold her head, please."

Eva pierced the black woman's tongue and placed the small silver bar near the tip, where she knew it would bring her the biggest pleasure when Samba came to lick her. She pressed it delicately, until a few millimeters came out under the tongue. Tears appeared on the black woman's eyes, but she kept still.

"Samba, I am impressed. I have done this to girls in my land, but I never saw one so firm and brave as you have been. You fully deserve the fame you have earned as leader of the Amazons!" She stepped back. Samba looked delicious with her shining collar and her nipple bells; she tugged lightly on them, making them ring with a pleasant, high-pitched sound.

"I have to go now, Miss", she said. " I have to prepare my deer."

"Samba, dear, it is better if you don't eat today, because of what you have in your tongue. You can drink water, but not have food. I would even advise you to stay here overnight - I am sure Sheera will not object."

Samba was burning to see how she looked with her new ornaments; she looked displeased at that bit of news. Eva went on:

"The procedure has to be followed, Samba, or your tongue will swell and ache a lot."

The warrior sighed and lowered her eyelids. Valera would have to wait.

"Then Samba will stay, Miss."

Eva smiled: a wicked idea had flashed through her mind.

"I know how difficult it is for someone hungry not to go after food, Samba. I think it is better if I help you, and tie this chain to your co... to yourbulawa." She grabbed the chain she had used on Taranga, which was dangling from the post at the end of the hut, and fastened it to Samba's collar. The Amazon opened her mouth to protest, but was cut short:

"Now, Samba, you sure feel grateful for the gifts I gave you. It would be appropriate if you show how thankful you are, and come here between my legs. I liked so much when you did it yesterday!"

She lay on the cot and took off her shorts; spreading her legs, she let the Nubian have a good glance at her lips. She made a clicking noise with her tongue:

"Come, Samba!"

Samba hesitated for a moment. She was proud because the visitor had praised her; but there was another feeling in her – a kind of respect, the sensation that shehad to comply with what that fair-skinned woman was asking. Eva clicked her tongue again; she shrugged and moved over to her. She would have to think that over when she came back to her hut.

Kneeling down, she kissed the drenched cunt in front of her and slurped away. The stud brushed gently on Eva's pussy, making her feel an enormous amount of pleasure. Samba worked her way into the canal; she was feeling aroused too. She put two fingers into her own womanhood and rubbed inside it; Eva was too busy wit herself to care.

The little bells were sounding as Samba's breast heaved up and down. Eva rubbed behind her ear, remembering how she had responded to that caress the day before. She let her feet brush on that lithe, gleaming back; Samba's tongue was by far the best she had ever experienced, better still than Amanda's. She tightened her thighs on the Negress' head; Samba had reached her clit, and the touch of the metal on it, combined with the smoothness and wetness of that moving marvel, was turning her mad with lust.

"Don't stop now, Samba... don't stop... a natural cunt lapper... don't stop... Oh my God, I am cumming! This is fantastic – OHHHH!" Her belly contracted savagely, her juice spurted, her knees trembled – and suddenly she was exploding, breathless, panting like she hadn't done for a long while. Sheera kept fanning her, her eyes fixed on the white woman trembling on the cot and on thebulawa shining on her leader's neck. When would she get hers, too?

Seven

Eva could not tell how long she had dozed. An aroma of roasting meat reached her nostrils; she remembered having told Tonga to hunt something for lunch. Surely the girl had found something and was now preparing it in front of the hut.

She was opening her eyes, but decided to keep them shut and pretend she was still asleep. Samba was talking to Sheera, almost in a whisper:

"... and I think she does not know the power of thebulawas."

"But, Samba, how can she ignore it? She cums stronger than any of us", replied Sheera.

"Don't stop moving that thing, she could wake up! Yes, I know, she can cum strong. But the story we heard was about trading them for prisoners; instead, she has just asked us to do simple things."

"Do you call thatsimple? She has made Sunga and Munga take her all around, has tied them to a tree while we were at the pond – Munga protested, she threatened to take thebulawas from her, and swatted her ass with her blouse! And Samba, look at you, you are attached to a chain like a goat! Do you think these are mean things?"

Samba thought for a moment.

"It is not comfortable, that is certain. But she did not force the twins to carry her around, and Tonga does not seem hunting and cooking for her. I know thebulawas are powerful, Sheera; as far as I can keep them, I don't mind doing what she asks – and I will use them soon... I have, already!" She paused for a moment. "You want one too, don't you? You were carrying her bag just now, and I heard when she told you to take care of her clothes. It is a fair deal, Sheera. She gets what she wants, we get what we want."

The girl nodded; the leader had a point.

"Will you allow some of us to travel out of the village, as she has said?"

"I think so. If she has enoughbulawas for all of us, and if there are Amazons who want to go, I will not refuse. When they come back, they can teach us more about the world outside."

Eva shuddered. She had never imagined that the Nubians could thinkthey were foolingher! "She does not know the power of the bulawas..." That was the joke of the year. But it was wise to let Samba believe that in that business she was the smarter part; she had said that she would not object to the travel plan, and, ifthat succeeded, her profit would be enormous.

A gentle wind was coming from the fan over her face; the Africans had stopped talking. She opened her eyes:

"I must have dozed a bit, dears. What is this good smell?"

"Tonga is preparing lunch, Miss".

As Sheera said that, Tonga entered the hut and knelt down.

"Tonga has brought your food, Miss", she said, bowing her head and stretching up her arms to offer her a piece of roasted meat.

"Thank you, Tonga", said Eva, grabbing the spike and biting into the succulent chunk. "This is delightful! Sheera, go with Tonga and have your meal; Samba here cannot eat today. Samba, why don't you show Tonga what Miss has given to you?"

The black warrior stuck her tongue out and cupped her breasts. Tonga giggled admiringly when the bells made their joyous little noise, and left with Sheera. Eva turned to Samba: the moment had come to straighten things out on the "travel" issue. But first she had to know whether there was any interest from the Princess' side.

"Samba, please fetch me that bag there."

The leader of the Amazons stood up and walked to the end of the hut, the chain from her collar stretching out as she reached for the laptop bag. She grabbed it and returned to Eva; the photographer waited, her heart beating fast. Would the Nubian kneel down and offer her the bag like she had seen Tonga offer the food? Samba stood on her feet for a moment, with a puzzled expression on her face; then she put the bag on the ground and squatted on her heels. Eva frowned:

"Samba, Samba! Offer it properly... one would say you cannot remember such simple things!"

Samba moved her tongue inside her mouth. The stud felt slightly uncomfortable against her teeth. But it was abulawa, which would both make her feel good with Valera, and make Valera feel good when she licked her. She looked at Eva: she could sense that there was something else in all that, something that she could not name as yet, but that she hadn't felt towards anybody since she was a child and her grandmother scolded her for some small misdeed. She knelt down, grabbed the bag and said:

"Miss, Samba has brought you your bag." Somehow, the words sounded more natural in her mouth.

Eva did not betray how pleased she was. Her tone was stern when she spoke again:

"Samba, try to remember these simple commands. Do I have to remind you every time how to behave properly?"

A flash flared on Samba's eyes. She felt like telling that woman to stop scolding her, but remained silent. She had recognized the sensation that that was rising up in her: it was what she felt when she lost a fight, or when a prey escaped her - the knowledge that the opponent was stronger, and nothing could be done about it. She stared speechless at Eva, not knowing what to do next. Then she heard the white woman speaking again:

"Now I will work a bit on my machine. Can you please take the fan and wave it over me?

Samba felt as if something was pulling her towards the branch; she took it in her hands and knelt behind her.

Eva turned the laptop on and felt the agreeable little breeze over her head. Her pussy twitched: "She has obeyed! I will begin to believe in the power of thebulawas", she jested to herself.

The photographer opened her mail, her fingers crossed for good luck. Among a lot of rubbish, there was a message from the Princess:

"Dear Miss Alpers,

I have received your e-mail and want to thank you for your kind offer. Yes, I am interested in knowing more about your pieces; if they are first-rate and decorative, I could acquire about a dozen. They are much on demand here, and prices range from eight to twelve thousand dollars for each, this last figure applying to ones in original condition, with no flaws whatsoever. If you can post me some photos, I will have a better idea of what the merchandise looks like.

Hoping to hear from you soon,

Princess Samira of Aden."

Eva blinked. Eight to twelve thousand? That meant around 130,000 dollars for a dozen Amazons - more than she could make in one year. She turned to Samba:

"My dear, I have to talk to you in earnest now. I have asked a friend of mine whether she would receive some of your sisters in her town. She has agreed, which is very kind of her. They may have to stay for a long time, because there is so much to be learned, and do some work for my friend to pay for their keep, which is only fair. What do you say?"

Eva's words had a curious effect on Samba: she felt both proud and soothed. She could feel awe and respect towards the white lady, but when it came to tribe affairs the last word was hers, and the visitor acknowledged that.

"Will they getbulawas... Miss?"

"Certainly! I want them to be as happy as possible."

"Then you have my permission."

Eva's eyes flashed.

"That is a wise decision, Samba. I expected nothing less from such an experienced leader. I think that it will be better ifyou tell the tribe about this offer. After all, I am only a visitor here. You know you have to stay here for today; tomorrow you can assemble them and explain the whole thing."

Samba was tired of being chained like a goat to the post. That bit of conversation had made her remember that she was the leader of a proud tribe; she pulled at the chain and said:

"I would rather go now, Miss. The deer I hunted will be spoiled if I don't salt it."

Eva sensed danger and acted swiftly.

"Never mind, Samba. I will ask one of my girls to take care of that; maybe we can have some of it for dinner. Now I have to go; there is water in the jar, drink as much as you want. What you just said shows that you need the chain to keep away from food; it would be very damaging if you let eat while thebulawais getting fixed on your tongue."

Samba seemed bewildered at those words. Eva went on:

"Now please fasten my sandals; I will be taking some photos for my book."

Neither Eva nor Samba could know that, but what took place at that very moment sealed the fate of the Amazons. Samba stared into the white woman's eyes; Eva sustained her gaze, and, after what seemed an eternity, it was the African who lowered her eyelids. Without a word, very slowly, she moved over to the hut door, fetched the sandals and knelt down to fasten them to Eva's feet. Then, in a sudden impulse, she took one foot in her hand, pressed her lips on its top and let them stay there for a while.

When she looked up again, Eva noticed something new in her expression. No more fierceness or anger; in those black, liquid eyes, she read what she had been expecting for since she had met Samba the day before –submission.

The photographer stretched her hand and caressed behind the black woman's ear. Her voice came out in a whisper:

"Samba, Samba... you will be very happy serving Miss."

As she walked out from the hut, her heart was leaping: had she tamed her first Amazon? It had been so easy! "Better not to count too much on her submission", Eva thought. "Munga has already rebelled, and this one is the leader... Let's wait and see."

As the visitor disappeared from her sight, Samba lay down, the taste of Eva's foot still in her mouth, and felt the cold touch of the chain on her shoulder. The hut was silent now, almost dark. Her fingers grabbed it; she was hungry and her body was hot.

"Miss is right; it is this longbulawa that keeps me away from that deer", she said to herself, rubbing absent-mindedly the chain on her body. Suddenly, she sat up - an idea had popped in her mind.

Removing her pelt, she put the chain between her petals and pressed them together, pausing to feel the cold of the metal. With one hand, she glided gently the chain up and down; with her other hand, she touched the ring on her nipple and made the tiny bell sound. The nipple hardened at once; she kept moving the chain under her closed labia, feeling a familiar tension rising up and spreading into her whole body.

Samba closed her eyes and went on, taking care not to hurt herself. One of the links touched her clit and made her jolt from pleasure; she tightened her cunt around the chain, letting it into the burning depths of her folds – and burst into the strongest orgasm of her entire life. Her body shook as she writhed on the cot; she didn't want to stop, she wanted more and more... A second, and a third, and a fourth orgasm ensued, until she collapsed, exhausted.

For a long time, Samba stayed still in the comforting half darkness of the hut. What a powerfulbulawa that was, she thought, gripping the chain as if it could suddenly take flight. The white woman knew so many things! Her words kept ringing in her mind:"You will be very happy serving Miss... serving Miss..." That was a new word for Samba. She felt a quiver down her spine as she remembered how aroused she had felt lapping the visitor's rosy cunt.

Yes, it was a fair deal:bulawas for Samba, service for Miss. She tried to concentrate: what had she learned thus far? First, how to greet: kneel down and part legs when she met Miss, wait for her toe to touch her slit. Second, how to offer things: stretch arms, bow head,Miss, Samba has brought you this or that. Third, wave the branch and make breeze over her head. She would not let Miss scold her again; it was not difficult to remember those simple things.

She traced the band around her neck and pulled softly down the small rings on her breasts: thebulawas were well in place, she had nothing to fear. The image of Valera entering her hut at night, brushing her foot and waking her to make love was the last thing she saw before sinking into a peaceful slumber.

Meanwhile, Eva was strolling around the village, scanning the women she met with on her way. She smiled as she recalled the wording of the Princess' message:in original condition – that could only mean virgins. What would Samira consider "decorative"? They had to be pretty, of course, but so were many of the Amazons, in their own, wild way. She looked for long legs and pert breasts, for finely chiseled necks and hands, for expressive eyes and well shaped ears. She had a keen eye for beauty – after all, she made her living as a photographer.

Whenever she met a girl that filled her requirements, she made a few pictures. The Amazons were surprised to see their likeness on the little glass square of the camera; Eva explained that this was a wonderful machine from her land, and that she would show everybody there how beautiful the women of that tribe were.

Her chip had run out; she had taken some fifty or sixty shots, and had now to feed them to her laptop. She whistled for Tonga, told her to take care of the deer Samba had hunted and walked briskly towards her hut.

Eva was a few steps from the hut when the sound of moans coming from within caught her ears. She frowned: was it possible that during her absence someone had come to make love to Samba? Peeking cautiously into the hut, she saw the Negress lying on the cot; her eyes were closed - she was holding the chain between her legs and masturbating on it.

For a brief moment, she stood there, watching that unbelievable scene. She moved noiselessly towards Samba, knelt down and parted her knees. Samba tried to close them; in spite of having a very good ear, she had been so absorbed playing with the chain that she had not noticed Miss coming in.

Eva made a gesture for her to keep quiet. She breathed the heavy scent that wafted from that dark grotto; her tongue glided across her thighs, cupped the bum and felt the muscles under the silky skin.

"Quiet, Samba! Miss will now show you what she feels when you lick her pussy." She flicked her tongue on the wet cleft and lapped the creamy juice from it. She was irresistibly reminded of Amanda: the same rich flavor, the same smoothness, the same slight resistance when she wanted to take her - the only difference was that the female whose cunt she was now licking was chained from a collar she had put on her neck – and that multiplied by ten the pleasure she felt.

She held Samba's legs firmly apart, licking slowly into her pussy and moving up to find the clit. The Amazon moaned loudly; the chain clanked as she writhed on the cot - she clenched her muscles around Eva's tongue – how good it was to be licked!

Eva opened her shorts to let her fingers into her own cunt. She kept changing the rhythm, teasing Samba with all the art she was capable of more, stopping here and now and watching the black woman arch up, eager for more. Her tongue wiggled past the ridges and sought again the button on top of them; she wanted Samba remember that forever, so she did her best to prolong her pleasure. At last she turned to more rapid movements; now Samba could release – and she did so, in a powerful climax that sent her feet up in the air.

Eva moved away from her; the Amazon opened her eyes, her hands looking for the visitor's head.

"Miss, Samba wants more!"

"No, Samba. You have had enough. Fetch that branch and do your job." There was a cutting ring to her voice.

Samba frowned. No one had ever talked to her like that! But there it was, the same feeling that she had experienced a few moments ago: a desire to please her and be praised, the certitude that the woman was, in some mysterious way, stronger than her. Her pussy was burning, she wanted more of that delicious sensation – but Miss had decided otherwise. She reached for the fan and waved it over Eva's head, this time facing her.