Tale of a Caveman and a Shaman Girl

Talon sat cross-legged on the hillside surveying the wide plain spread-out before him as the small fire crackled and spat, warming his back. Trying to free his mind as he chewed slowly on the wild mushroom didn't come as easily as it would have done for his lover Flea as she was the shaman and he a mere hunter with no special status in the tribe.

Slowly the fog in his brain was clearing and the vision he hoped for began to form as he found himself flying above the plain in the light and agile body of a kestrel. Talon was grateful that his spirit animal was a hawk, rather than a deer, or a fox and such, as he would need to cover distance quickly if he was to discover any clues to the whereabouts of his poor, captive Flea.

The keen eyes of the kestrel could see many dust clouds formed by herds of mammoth and bison, but it was the pale smoke of a woodfire burning some leagues to the south that gave away the location of the human prey that he was tracking. The Jackals were clearly confident in their strength by making no attempt to disguise their presence.

Talon would have risked his life many times over to rescue Flea, as she was not just his woman, but possessed a magic that was the envy of all the tribes, whether plains, mountains or sea. Flea could commune with animals and command their spirits better than any shaman or witch that he knew or had ever heard of. It was these powers that must have saved her when their summer camp was raided by the Jackals, as they had killed everyone else, man, woman and child with their predictable barbarity. Talon had discovered the bodies and burned-out camp on returning alone from the flint pit, a broken man at the thought that he was the only survivor from his hunting band, friends and family. His relief at not finding Flea among the dead was some consolation, but tempered by the realisation that she was now a captive of the vicious Jackals.

On discovering the Jackals' tracks, it was a day of hard running before Talon came across the war-band, spying their distant campfires glowing in the darkness. Crawling silently through the long grass in his approach, Talon peered from behind a rock to observe the camp. Trussed-up in a little bundle at the edge of the fire-light was Flea, still in her buckskins and eagle feathers in her hair. Talon's heart leapt and his gut clenched in concern at the sight of his greatest love in such discomfort and peril.

The Jackals seemed to have a single, bored-looking sentry pacing in a circle on the edge of the camp near to where Flea was lying. They would pay for their arrogance, as Talon silently strung his bow, nocking an arrow. The hunter's aim was true and the flint arrowhead sliced through the man's jugular in a splash of red mist, the only sound being the dull thud of the corpse hitting the ground, then twitching in its death-throws.

In seconds, Talon was slicing through the vines securing Flea with his razor-sharp, obsidian knife. Picking-up her slender body, he flung her crudely over his shoulder, turned and ran as fast as he could into the darkness. Talon was expecting a commotion at any moment, but to his immense relief, no sound nor alarm was raised from the camp.

After they were clear by some distance, Talon placed Flea gently onto the sand to remove the remainder of her bindings and untie the grass gag from around her mouth. Flea coughed and spat, then squeaked a little as she stretched causing the blood to course painfully through her veins. She said nothing at first, but hugged and rained kisses on Talon, as he rubbed her down roughly to help with her circulation.

"Can you walk?" he asked. "Those Jackal scum could be on us any minute". A familiar fierce look appeared in Flea's sparkling eyes: "Yes, I can run if we need to" she replied, "but I have something I must do first!"

Flea sat rocking back and forth, chanting words of power with an intense concentration, her eyes rolling unnaturally in her head as she entered the spirit world. Talon stood-by keeping watch, impressed at the ease by which this fragile-looking girl could pass between the realms of man and ghost.

After a while, Talon felt a low rumble growing louder and louder and the earth began to shake, lightly at first and then stronger and stronger to become a roar like deep thunder. Huge shapes flashed by in the darkness heading in the direction of the Jackal camp. With amazed excitement, Talon realised that Flea had summoned a herd of bison to stampede, unstoppable in speed and destruction. The Jackals in its path would stand no chance of avoiding being crushed and scattered.

As the light of the fire flickered over paintings on the walls of their little cave and its warmth seeped gently into their bodies, Talon and Flea held onto each other affectionately. Talon pulled the heavy bearskin over them as they settled into their cosy, bison-fur bedding; these mighty creatures had been a blessing for the second time in as many days.

Talon lent down to kiss Flea, their mouths meeting soflty, but soon more passionately as their arousal began to build. Flea had not revealed how the Jackals had treated her in those days of captivity and Talon thought it better not to ask, knowing that the loss of her loved-ones was a far deeper wound that could never be healed.

The shadows of two on the cave wall became one as the lovers caressed and stroked each other. Shedding their buckskins soon had them naked, their hard, tanned bodies gleaming in the firelight. Talon cupped and fondled Flea's small, pert boobs, his tongue licking and sucking on her nipples causing them to stiffen and lengthen in his mouth as he pulled upwards with his lips. Flea squirmed with pleasure, reaching to grasp Talon's soft cock, wanking it to and fro until the shaft thickened to a stiff erection in her hand.

Both lovers were now gasping and sighing at this chance to rekindle the strong bond with their mate. Flea lowered her head to envelop Talon's cock into her mouth, flicking her tongue around the bulb and licking up and down the throbbing shaft and around his hairy ballsack. Thick masculine fingers rubbed and probed Flea's vulva and into her soaking pussy, causing her to arch like a stretching cat, moaning even with her mouth full.

Flea manoeuvred her slight frame over her man and lowered onto his rampant prick, easing it all the way into her tight wet hole. Pumping up and down and grinding her sensitive clit against Talon's pubic bone made her shudder uncontrollably, her mouth wide open with pleasure. Talon's mouth suckled on one jiggling tit and then another as they humped, soon making her clutch to him violently as she contorted and spasmed in orgasm.

Turning over the feather-light girl, Talon positioned himself behind her in wolf-style before thrusting deeply. Flea's tight pussy rippled over his prick, clamping and squeezing to make him groan in surprise and ecstasy. Shafting balls deep, Flea's body rocked back and forth as she was pummeled mercilessly; Talon was too overcome with lust to be gentle, but she loved it hard and her cries and shrieks proved she had no complaints.

Talon knew he was about to explode, so pulled out quickly, causing a splash of love juice to spray from Flea's soaking pussy. Rolling her onto her back, he pushed his hard dick back between Flea's engorged and dripping labia, pumping into her rapidly. The sopping heat of her intimate place was too much for Talon and his spunk pulsed up from his swinging balls to spurt in long, pearly jets deep into the moaning, fertile woman beneath him.

Despite the tragedies they had suffered, both were strong and wild and the power they had within them would restore their tribe to a formidable presence on the plains and maybe even the ancestors of some of us here and now!