Disclaimer: All people depicted are understood to be 18 years of age or older.
*
Peioka and his war council sat on the bamboo mats in the high tower of what had once been Hakomsa's fortress. It was a cobbled-together bastion of rock inside a wooden palisade which overlooked the ocean. To more civilized eyes it might have seemed primitive, but for Nuubia it was a bulwark against the frightening elements, wild animals, and tribal enemies. A bristling hedgehog wall of sharpened stakes enclosed the fortress's outer wall, breached only by a thin gap near the official fortress gate. All 400 plus souls of Peioka's tribe now either lived in the fortress or farmed the garro pods in the terraced fields etched into the hillsides.
As new Warchief, Peioka had chosen to lessen the tribe's reliance on the sea's bounty, growing their own food to make the fortress more self-sufficient and stockpile food. If he were going to launch an invasion of neighboring tribes, he preferred to be ready for any counter punch.
Peioka regarded all in the circle of his advisors. Some he almost trusted. Others he did not trust further than they could be thrown. Peioka's philosophy was, 'Keep your enemies as close as your friends, but only as long as you have to.'
He glanced first at Zomaru, the gruff witch doctor. The muscle-bound, scar-faced man who claimed a special connection to the Spirit's world was the most overtly hostile. Zomaru did not like Peioka's decision to abolish the Sacrifice to Elal. Only Peioka's willingness to pay lip service to the angry god kept the two from open blows.
Besides Zomaru sat Palanri, leader of the veteran warriors. He was a pragmatist, and looked to where the wind blew, caring more about competence than belief. Peioka saw in him a potential ally, and viewed him with respect.
Beside Palanri sat Keiho, the charismatic if unofficial leader of the younger, more headstrong warriors. Peioka had chosen his adopted son well. The young man showed promise, and he was loyal to a fault.
Last there sat the elder of the tribe, Okonwe. The man's flowing greyish beard and light grey eyes seemed a good match for his shriveled skin. Though the Nuubians were not immortal, their life spans were long: the years 20 through 50 were prime years of procreation for both men and women, when they remained in the flower of youth and beauty. A long-lived man could usually reach 125 years, and Okonwe had surpassed that. But for all his age, the shriveled old man carried himself with dignity and a kernel of strength.
Peioka did not know what to think of him, but a tiny voice warned that the elder was not to be underestimated.
The council sat and spoke for many hours over what should be done and the proper path to war. There was open ocean to the west - no conquest could be had there. But to the east, north, and south lay the territories of three other tribes.
The question was, which should be overthrown by force? Could some be peaceably absorbed? Which fruit was ripest for the plucking? Opportunities had to be based on all relevant factors, and not just on what tribal adversary had the strongest warriors.
Peioka considered the tiny kingdoms of his three Warchief neighbors - Uruga to the east, Aleu to the south, and Kanunu to the north.
Uruga was a fat, passive Warchief. He was a man who cared more for comfort than for ambition. His only son was by all accounts as soft, and with the same inclinations.
Aleu was older than Okonwe by at least a decade, a doddering old man with three ambitious sons, but they were too absorbed jockeying for position against one another to pose much of a menace for the time being.
Kanunu was the obvious threat. A Warchief 30 years of age, Kanunu was young, known for his tactics in battle, and had already led two famous raids into Aleu's and Uruga's lands. He had captured many female slaves, and word had spread of his extensive harem.
Debate snarled back and forth when Peioka called a break to the meeting. The words had been too heated, and Peioka wanted to lower the tension in the room.
"Tribe-kin," Peioka said, addressing them all, "let us take a break, and a useful one at that. I have asked my slave harem to attend us." Peioka clapped and three naked females entered the room, their wrists bound with rope in front of them. Peioka found it useful to remind the slaves of their place. He had no wife - for the Nuubians of this tribe did not consider women equals. All women were considered slaves, although those women born within the tribe were usually ranked higher than those captured in raids.
The first slave girl was Ohana, and her fellow slave was Hira. Ohana was the taller, sturdier of the two. Ohana's breasts were full, begging to be suckled. Hira was petite, a willowy specimen of femininity. Both girls had long dark hair, black as crow feathers, and smooth, golden skin which seemed even more beautiful in the fading light. The slave girls were in their early 20s, and the men's cocks immediately stiffened when they entered the room.
Behind them came Nolani, her nipple rings catching the sunlight between the tower's open windows. Together these three formed Peioka's modest harem.
Peioka gestured impatiently at Ohana and looked towards Okonwe. "Don't be shy, little sluts. Plenty of cock here for all of you. Ohana, make yourself useful. Give Okonwe a proper coupling."
Ohana nodded, leaning between Okonwe's legs and flicking her tongue at the tip of his weathered penis. Okonwe groaned, then growled as Ohana's lips slipped around his cock, forming good suction as she pumped her mouth back and forth, lubricating his cock in preparation for a thorough fucking.
Hira glanced at the cornucopia of cocks and settled at last on Zomaru's. The grim witch doctor thrust her onto her hands and knees before him, his hands cupping her tits for leverage as he teased his cock up and down her slit. "You are kind to share this one's sweet pussy, Warchief. Some would say such sharing is a sign of weakness," he added, a veiled barb thrown Peioka's way.
Peioka ignored the remark and motioned for Nolani to suck him. The big-breasted slave was soon leaning over him, slurping fervently on his mammoth-sized prick. Her gurgling momentarily paused as Keiho approached from behind, positioning his manhood between Nolani's pussy lips and thrusting his hips forward with such force that Nolani gasped as the cock both filled her and nearly sent her headlong into Peioka's lap.
"I hope you do not mind sharing her, Father."
"Not at all, stepson. We are family, and what is mine is yours," Peioka replied.
Peioka watched, impressed as Nolani endeavored to take his shaft entirely in her mouth. She impaled her lips on his straining penis, progressing downward until her nose tickled his pubic muff.
Peioka's groan reached a critical depth, his testicles eager to be emptied as the big-breasted slave suckled harder and harder, gurgling and holding him tightly in her hot mouth. He felt Nolani's breasts brush against his knees as she bottomed out her luscious lips at the base of his rigid man-meat.
"Uuuhhh you little fuck-slave...don't stop!" Peioka growled. Meanwhile the Warchief noted with satisfaction that Hira was groaning delightfully, her nipples hardened little points as Zomaru's vein-bulging shaft buried itself in her heat, fucking her brutally from behind. The witch doctor's grunts were accentuated by the occasional slap as Zomaru's hands smacked Hira's smooth-skinned ass cheeks again and again and again. Zomaru's free hand held the back of Hira's neck to hold her in place.
The slender slave girl moaned, shocked at how thick and long the witch doctor's cock was...almost as prodigious as the Warchief's, who was her new master. Her bound hands pressed firmly into the bamboo matting, barely keeping her slender figure from sprawling forward with the force of Zomaru's constant fucks.
But this didn't seem to satisfy Zomaru for long. He spit into Hira's puckered ring and pulled out his penis only long enough to reposition it at the entrance to the slave's tighter hole. Hira squealed as her young ass was brutally taken, the cock feeling like a battering ram as it slammed toward her bowels.
"Ooh Spirit safeguard me. Be gentle, Master. Your cock is plunging into my ass. Please...would you not prefer my soft, inviting cunt?" Hira asked hopefully.
"Silence! You were born to FUCK, not SPEAK," Zomaru replied. He grabbed a long reed-woven crop which he kept on his discarded belt to discipline difficult slave girls. He now smacked it against the smooth skin above Hira's pussy, pumping her ass with his cock as her moans sailed to new heights.
"Please Master, it hurts!" Hira wailed.
To Zomaru's surprise, Peioka reached out, fondling Hira's tits as he voiced encouragement.
"Not bad, Zomaru. You know how to show these little cunts who's in charge."
Hira's groans progressed with the rhythm of the crop now smacking against her cunt lips. Her agonized groans reached a crescendo as Zomaru roared at her, "Squeeze your ass on my thick manhood as if you're taking a shit. I want to feel how tight you are, bitch!"
Hira was shocked at the sudden removal of the riding crop. Then Peioka's hand was reaching out to stroke and tease her clit even as Zomaru fucked her anus. If Peioka's interference bothered the witch doctor, he made no sign of it.
The witch doctor fucked Hira harder and with more vigor until Peioka's attentions to her clitoris sent the naked slave girl over the brink. Hira moaned, her ebony hair thrashing as her head whipped back and forth. Her whole body shook as she came violently, her pussy juice spattering and soaking the bamboo mat.
