Professor Winderlys Assignment Ch 10

Now, gentle reader, you will have been wondering what our pair of scholars will be asked to learn? Ironic isn't it that our two anthropologists—people who are to teach the rest of us about the cultures of the world—are themselves made to be students.

As the field notes indicate, both Professor Winderly and doctoral candidate Doume' were directed by King Moloko to undergo the tribal custom of learning about themselves sexually. It seems it was more difficult for Professor Winderly, even though she was an expert in this tribe's customs. Her student, Jim, was, clearly, much more eager to submit to the lessons. Unlike the Western tradition, there was no curriculum, no semester, no syllabus. The Molokoni had a wisdom tradition. They would simply know when the student had learned the lesson.

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The four guardians who drew Professor Winderly away from the King's cabin were lovely creatures to behold. Their bodies, taut with muscles under smooth black skin, seemed to glisten in the morning sun. As they closed in around her, Dee thought they had a very pleasant odor about them, perfume-like but faint. They wore the simple apron that seemed to be the Class B uniform of the tribe. No covering over their athletic breasts, but cords of fine braids encircled them and wove around their chests, accentuating their bosoms. Each had firm nipples and small areolae. They were built for competition, Dee surmised.

A runner herself, Dee saw in them the legs of people used to sprinting and jumping, not the lean and lithe bodies of distance runners. Their legs were used to bursts of speed, adept at climbing. Their arms were well-shaped and firm as well, but not overly muscled. Overall, she concluded these four were toned, fit, and able to exercise or work for extended periods of time. Like most people in guardian or paramilitary units, they were ever-ready to act, but those times were infrequent, so they filled their hours with training and preparation.

Though they were skillful archers and deadly with their long knives, King Moloko had chosen them to educate Dee Winderly because of their bond as women. This small clan of women were joined to one another in a matriarchal sect. Whereas, King Moloko ruled the tribe, his power emanated from the strength of its women. Their power and influence explained why there was a single woman leading the men in the ritual of showering the saplings with their semen. Dee had not yet understood this. Molokoni women direct the waters of life.

King Moloko believed rightly, therefore, that the best person to teach a woman how to be strong yet sensitive was another woman.

The guards picked up the pace and Dee fell in. It felt good to stretch her legs again after hours of flight, canoeing, and just wandering the village. She had not had a good run in a couple of weeks. The small party ran up a path that climbed through deeper woodlands and across a rocky plain away from the tribe and away from men. Dee could hear running water to her right. She was beginning to breathe a little harder from the sustained pace. The sound of water made her want to take a cool drink. Running in the city was so easy because she could carry her water bottle and her tunes with her. This run was a challenge.

Still they ran. Dee was beginning to flag a bit and fell off the pace. The ones behind her slapped her buttocks to encourage her to continue. Another mile or so and Dee's legs began to cramp. She stumbled and was caught by the woman next to her.

The group stopped suddenly and the four chuckled as they looked at Dee, clearly amused, perhaps impressed, that this white woman had done as well as she had. Resting her hands on her knees, Dee gulped air. Then a pair of hands reached for the gown she was wearing and from the back of her neck tore the gown to his hem. Another pair pulled the light gown from her and Dee stood naked on the trail, sweat pouring down her. She winced from the violation, but was too winded to care. Besides, she was among other women who were naked from the waist up. It felt good to feel the air on her skin. Her nipples perked a bit perhaps from the sudden coolness as her sweat began to evaporate, perhaps from the liberties taken by her escorts.

They resumed the travel, but at a much slower pace, a walk, allowing Dee to get her wind back. As she walked, the women touched her deliberately. A hand rested on her right ass cheek for several paces, then another found its way to her belly. A bit farther along and a woman reached across to cup Dee's breast in her hand as they covered another 20 yards. Then another woman dove her fingers through Dee's pubic hair and rested her palm on Dee's pubic bone.

Smiles and murmurs that Dee could not understand accompanied the touching. They were taking liberties with Dee. It was a close call between just playful exploration and a feeling of violation. Dee's natural rigidity left her feeling more violated than played with. To cope, she strove to maintain her objectivity, making mental notes and trying to discern a pattern to their touches.

They came to an encampment at last. The water she had heard as they ran along the path was a quick, rocky stream. The camp was made near the stream, at the foot of a low-head falls where a pool had formed. Without breaking stride, the women led Dee into the pool.

The cold water shocked her, taking her breath away. As they walked her deeper into the pool, the water stung as it rose higher on her naked body. Her nipples were as erect and straining as she had ever felt. Her flesh had puckered and she was covered in goosebumps.

Her head was ducked and held under. Without time to take a deep breath, Dee quickly felt panic as if she were about to drown. Then just as suddenly, her hair was jerked and her head popped out of the water. Dee gasped and was quickly pushed under.

The combination of the hard run and the shocking cold zapped her strength. Dee went limp and would have fainted had she not been fetched by the arms and dragged to the edge of the pool. Barely aware—or unable to care—Dee did not resist the women's further efforts. Somewhere in her mind she was able to recognize that, though the women were firm, they were not unkind to her.

Two of the guards grabbed handfuls of sand and started to rub Dee's skin beginning with her feet and working up her legs. As they scrubbed her skin, they massaged her muscles. Hard scrubbing with more sand and soon the cold was replaced by warmth and then stinging again, from the abrasion.

They worked their hands and the sand up her body, pulling her legs apart and kneaded the insides of her thighs. Caught between the pain of the scrubbing and the pleasure of the massage, Dee hung between acceptance and resistance. Resistance was futile, of course. The guards had a job to perform and Dee was too fagged to fight. She knew she could not escape, as tired as she was.

So, she gave in and let the scrubbing continue. Grateful she was that they did not use the same coarse sand to wash her lips and vagina. Spinning her over, though, they were not so kind to her ass. At first the rubbing and sanding felt good, a cosmetic exfoliation, she thought. Her buttocks relaxed as the kneading and rubbing continued. She was actually beginning to enjoy the ministrations of her escorts.

Then hands pulled her ass cheeks apart and fingers began to rub the sand along her cleft. Dee clenched her buttocks to ward off intrusion, but it was not successful. Sand and pain shot into her anus and she screamed out. More pulling and pushing and the pain seared her. Then just as suddenly it stopped and fingers rubbed her anus in a smooth and soothing manner.

The scrubbing went higher and Dee knew at some point her breasts would be scraped. She felt the strong hands moving up her stomach and chest and touch the lower curve of her breasts. She felt sandy fingers circle her distended nipples and slight pinches, but nothing more.

The scrubbing continued higher and soon her neck and face were cleansed. Still the women used sand but did not scrub quite so vigorously. When they were done they lifted her as one and gently lowered her into the water. Dee was allowed to float in the cold water. Her skin was alive with feeling. The burning around her anus had subsided and left her with an aroused feeling.

One of the guards held Dee's shoulders in her arms, pressing Dee's face against her breasts in a maternal manner. On either side of Dee, two guards held her body afloat, hands beneath her hips, holding her ass. The final guard positioned herself between Dee's legs.

Dee's skin was bright pink from the scrubbing. The cold water numbed her skin a bit, but the cleansing had made her skin more alive and aware. It was as if her nerves had been so numbed, so unable to feel anything until the layers of her hardened soul had been scraped and sanded away.

Dee was suspended between the four women and floated in their arms. Slowly the woman between her legs began running her fingers up and down her thighs. Dee felt every inch of the movement. It felt good to relax and let these women handle her. It was a completely unfamiliar feeling, of course, but the exercise and shock of the ritual washing calmed her body and mind.

Slowly the woman reached the intersection of Dee's thighs. Around the tenderest part of Dee's womanhood, the guard began to swirl her fingers lightly, not touching her lips for more than a moment before moving on, like a butterfly landing on her labia and then lifting off and settling down again quickly only to flee again. Dee's lips thickened as blood flowed to her pussy. Her clitoris extended from its hood seeking the caressing fingers. She was unable to prevent its erection.

As more pressure was applied to Dee's nether parts, Dee opened her legs involuntarily inviting more of the pleasuring. Fingers followed the invitation and soon Dee felt an intrusion of strong fingers sliding up her slickened vagina. Higher and higher they traveled. She had never willingly allowed anyone to touch her between her thighs. The other times she endured an orgasm were wrapped up with painful memories. Most recently, the airline episode with Jim, though it felt great at first, turned to anger and she treated Jim coldly afterward.

This time, with the women handling her body, made Dee want to be filled completely. She tried to bear her hips down onto the hand in her pussy. She rocked her hips. In the midst of her pleasure, however, she was tormented by what she thought was her professional duty. Dee "knew' she should maintain her distance from the feeling. The warring feelings pitched her sexual tension higher

The women on either side pulled gently on the globes of her buttocks. The cool water flowed into her tender anus. They moved their fingers into the cleft of her cheeks. It was enough stimulation that Dee wanted to sink farther onto those fingers, but not so much as to invade her anus. The effect was tantalizing and frustrating.

As the fingers and hands worked on Dee's now-aroused groin, the woman at her head reached toward Dee's breasts and circled her nipples. They could hardly erect more since they were cold and had been scrubbed, but they arced higher in the arousal that was building.

Dee's head was shifted so the woman could reach Dee's breasts. As she turned her head a nipple grazed Dee's lips. Dee instinctively opened her mouth and took it in. The frim nipple felt good in her mouth and the soft flesh of the small breast formed against Dee's lips. Dee nuzzled the woman's breast and sucked steadily at the nipple even as her own nipples were pulled and pinched.

She was building to an orgasm she both wanted to come and did not. The feelings so strong, so intense, yet she, Professor Dee Winderly, was not in control, indeed quite the opposite. Awfully, to her, she was being brought to an almost involuntary orgasm, an enforced orgasm called up by these women. She did and did not want that.

It could have been worse, so much worse. The woman could have been a man doing this to her: a tall, even stronger, black skinned man, grinning as his fingers roamed across her body and penetrated her vagina. She could imagine, Whilst running his hands and fingers over her, poking up from the water, his cock would have been as hard as iron. An erect man bringing her to orgasm, preparing her for who knew what further rituals...Dee shuddered at the idea. It was better to have women initiate her.

The fingers in her vagina began pumping in and out. A thumb circled the uncloaked clitoris and pressed down. Dee's fluids nearly pumped out of her as her vagina sought to welcome the interposing fingers as if it were a hard cock.

Dee tried to roll her hips such that she could bear down on the fingers fucking her and the ones that crept toward her anus. She wanted to be impaled as, what promised to be, a torrential orgasm built in her. Like a crash of thunder Dee's orgasm overtook her. Her legs shot straight and her toes arced as the spark shot through her. Had she been lactating her nipples might very well have ejaculated milk, so strong what the convulsive orgasm - at least that was how Dee experienced it.

She had no strength left to fight against the orgasm. She was charged with nervous energy and it sparked and arced through her entire body. Her skin was on fire. Her body shook. The nipple she had held in her mouth, she spat out as a cry came from deep in her soul piercing the air, overcoming the noise of the waterfall for a moment.

Dee released more sexual energy in that powerful orgasm than most women would experience in a year. So many days of pent-up anger and frustration came screaming out of her mouth as the orgasm twisted and pulled on her. The scream ended in a series of yelps, "Ah, ah, ah..."

The electricity of the orgasm finally subsided and Dee was left with small muscle spasms. She could hardly believe how long the orgasm had lasted. She was limp, but her skin jumped as muscles loosed the last bits of their energy. Had she not been buoyed between the women, Dee would have drowned because she was nearly unconscious after the flood and storm of that first prolonged orgasm. She had had a few small twinges of orgasm from fingering herself, but they had been so fleeting in comparison.

Dee had known the power of the female orgasm, because she had seen it so often in her researches, yet had tried very hard to distance herself from its dangerous power. The infrequent times she masturbated, her orgasms were slight and Dee felt shameful afterward. Thus, she believed, it was her lot to be forever cut off from feelings. So, she exercised her mind all the more.

In her warped calculation, a rigid rejection of her own sexuality made her a better observer of the sexuality of others. Of course, the reality should have been plain for her to see. She cannot see in others when she is so blind to the subject closest to hand. That was the point of the King's curriculum for her.

Dee could not recall how she made it from the water to the hammock where she lay. She turned to get out of the sling and felt soreness all over. Her legs were tense from the long run, but she had felt that kind of stiffness before. It was the rest of her body, and especially her woman parts that were the most tender. She had the need to pee, but was wary of how her urine might trigger a stinging she might prefer to avoid.

As she struggled to get upright, Dee realised she was tied. Not to anything, no tether to a post nor to the hammock, but she was trussed up in a most strange, most elaborate, most interesting way. She recognized the cordage as a soft natural fiber. She had seen similar rope work in festivals in the village. The ropes wrapped around her chest, dividing her breasts and over her shoulders, then braided down her back. They parted again and wrapped around her hips in such a way as to like the hem of her panties, except there was no material covering her mons or buttocks. The ropes merely outlined and accentuated her fleshly womanhood. The ropes bound her but did not limit the movement of her limbs.

Dee was fascinated by, but also was surprised to find she liked the way the ropes made her sexual parts protrude or at least be more noticeable. It was a feeling she had never experienced: Having her sexuality present and visible. Her daily uniform at the college was khakis and field shirts, the stuff men and sexless women wore. Yes, yes, they were very functional, of course. In Dee's wearing, they protected her from demonstrating anything that might reveal her sexual beauty. She did not see herself as beautiful and did not want others to have a chance to judge for themselves.

Dee heard a rustling and saw one of her guardians come into view. She had food for her. Offering the large leaf to her, the guard—Meelo—helped Dee to stand and to walk outside to a bench in the sunshine. Meelo sat down beside her and helped pick the morsels up and feed them to her. Dee could have managed but it was nice to waited on this way. Never had someone been so intimate as to feed her, since she could remember, at least.

A gourd was offered with cold water. It sluiced down her throat. A few drops from her lips felt like ice as they hit the skin on her chest causing her to giggle and shake. Meelo smiled and offered more food.

Dee felt as if she were dreaming or drugged so surreal the experience was. She was fully alert and oriented but had a sense of freedom and ease that were completely foreign. She could not grasp the change that was afoot, yet it was happening, and Dee was letting it.

No words were exchanged between Dee and Meelo, just smiles and the affection of having food placed in her mouth, her tongue caressing the fingers as they delivered the morsel. Meelo did not seem to mind the way Dee sucked gently or licked her fingers. When the banana leaf was empty Dee bent down to lick the remains. It lay in Meelo's lap and Dee could smell the faint aroma of a woman mixed with the aroma of food. She liked licking and she liked the smell.

Meelo was one of the younger women in the guard unit. Dee guessed she was mid to late 20s, definitely a woman judging be her physical attributes. She had strong legs and buttocks, the signs of her fitness for duty. Her breasts were smaller than Dee's. Could it have been she who held Dee's head and allowed her to suckle her nipples yesterday at the ritual washing? Dee actually rolled her tongue in her mouth imagining how Meelo's nipple would feel.

The need to pee had now become urgent. Dee was unsure how to communicate her need to be private. She tried pointing into the bushes but Meelo just smiled and shook her head, seeming uncomprehending. Dee pointed at the gourd and then between her open legs. Meelo nodded and smiled and reached for a further gourd and poured the icy water between Dee's thighs. The cold upon her sex was quite shocking, she flinched and gasped, yet when Meelo did the same to herself she did not so much as move a muscle, just continued to smile as she sat facing Dee. It was no good, Dee needed to be more specific. She pointed with her index finger at her pee hole, touching and miming micturition.

Across from her she could see Meelo's own pee hole between her opened thighs. Meelo nodded with her big smile seeming to get wider and to Dee's amazement simply released a stream of urine out of herself to splash on the dust between them. She paused and nodded encouragingly. Dee had never, ever seen another women pee. Yes, she had been in the same cubicle as other girls but not like this: not facing and showing. She could not follow suit, she just could not do it. Not a dribble.

Meelo looked at Dee expectantly, was looking at Dee's sex clearly expecting a rush of urine. Dee was mortified, both at her exposure and her failure. It became worse. Meelo reached and began to stroke her, so gently but right on the urethral opening. All at once Dee could not stop herself and found herself splashing not on the dust before her but over Meelo's fingers. Meelo laughed at the splashing against her hand.