I never spent much time thinking about the world outside. When you grow up where I did, you never bother to. My tribe and I lived in a jungle surrounding a river delta, where we thrived on fish, birds, and whatever it pleased us to grow in our back gardens. Some time ago, however, all that changed forever.
I was walking back home after the other men of the village and I had been hunting. As we clambered through the difficult jungle, we made sure to keep our prizes away from the thousand tiny, prying eyes that stared hungrily at our fresh meat. I had my bow at the ready, just in case.
Brushing through the last of the trees, I saw the first longhouse of our village in the distance. An extra spring came into my step as we approached.
"We're back!" I happily announced.
"Darren, is that you?" came a soft, female voice from inside one of the longhouses.
A beautiful, wiry light-brown-haired woman rushed out to greet me.
"Darren, you're back!" she celebrated. "I missed you!"
"I missed you to, Mona," I informed.
"Then why can't I come with you?" she begged.
"You couldn't have," I forbade. "A hunting expedition is no place for a woman."
"I know," sighed Mona, in a voice that clearly indicated that she did not believe it.
"Come on," I prompted changing the subject to cheer her up. "Let's get this cooked."
Barely had I taken one step towards the fire pit when Mona said, "Do you hear something?"
"I don't hear anything," I dismissed. "The summer heat must be making you dizzy."
At that, I continued off to the fire pit, only to freeze when I heard a roar up above. Looking up, I froze in place.
Some gigantic shape blotted out the sky. Its underside was shiny and tiny little specks fell from it, then sprouted peacock-like tails as they descended.
"What are those?" I cried, to no one in particular.
Quickly dropping the carcass, I drew my bow and took aim at one of the falling specks, but I did not shoot.
When the falling specks drew near enough, I recognized human figures hanging from the puffy hemispheres that seemed to float in the air like flower seeds. Suddenly, and to my further surprise, these humans then detached from their tails and landed hard on the ground.
"Nobody move," I heard a deep, strangely echoing voice command, coming from one of the intruders.
I did not know which of these sudden visitors it had come from; their faces were all covered in shiny teal shells.
Before I knew what was happening, a pair of cold, scaly hands behind me grabbed my arms and bound them behind my back by some device I could not see. Then, a shape similar to the one in the sky- but only about as big as a longhouse- touched down silently on the village grounds. The humanoid behind me pushed me toward it.
As I walked toward the metal beast, I looked around, seeing my fellow warriors similarly bound. A brief rage surged inside me. We had gone down without a fight. Helplessly, I looked to Mona, who watched from behind a boulder, shooting me a look I could not decipher. I did not fault her for not intervening. What, after all, could a woman do to stop this?
Inside the metal beast, I was surrounded by white. I do not remember much that happened within the next few hours. I remember thinking I was dead, wandering about a featureless, walled-in void until I collapsed from exhaustion.
* * *
I woke up after a length of time I had no way of estimating. To my disconcert, my collar was strapped around my neck, and my kilt was cut down to something better resembling a loincloth. Eventually, my chamber took a bump from below, and the vibrations and rumblings- which I only then realized had been surrounding me- ceased, all at once.
Several days' worth of hunger burned in my stomach, but I did not mind that; instead, rage continued to boil inside me, like a caged animal. My village had gone down without a fight. None of us got our chance to prove our mettle in combat. First the metal people came down, then we were all prisoners. Nothing galled me more than being denied the chance to prove my fighting skills.
At last, all at once and without warning, a door to my chamber opened up. After I had processed this, a woman strode in. The woman wore fingerless gloves of the same scaly material I had felt before, as well as hardy-looking boots, and, most surprisingly, nothing else. She was tall and powerful-looking, with arms and legs that were thin, but rippled with visible musculature, and her skin was uniformly pale.
I stared at her in shock. I had seen a naked woman before, but never before had I witnessed one so unabashed and self-assured in her nudity, baring her sex like a man might bare his.
"Do you want food?" she asked, in an unnervingly matter-of-fact voice.
"No," I declared, standing up. "I want a fight."
With an insufferably haughty "hmph," the woman turned and strode out of the room, shutting the door behind her.
When she did, I realized how hungry I really was. That act of nonchalance- from a woman, no less- tore my warrior's pride to shreds, leaving me to realize that I had more immediate problems. Sitting dejectedly, I waited for her to return, mentally preparing myself to accept her demeaning offer.
Soon enough, she did return, this time holding a container of some sort.
"Are you hungry now?" she asked.
"Yes," I admitted, looking away.
"Then kiss me on the lips," the woman ordered.
My instinct to disobey quickly reared its head, but I forced it back down, swallowed my pride and stood up.
"No," the woman corrected, understanding my intent. "Not these lips." She reached down, parted her vagina with her fingers and said, "These lips."
Baffled, I stared at her for a moment, hesitant to believe that she was serious.
"Come on," she prodded, with a taunting smile. "On your knees, boy."
That she saw it fit to call me a boy nearly reignited my fighting spirit, but, even in my simmering anger, I knew that I had bigger concerns.
Closing my eyes, I slowly got back down on my knees and edged toward her, then wrapped my arms around her posterior and brought my mouth closer. Depressing my tongue, I pressed my lips to hers and tried to avoid tasting anything. As I sucked, I could not help but marvel at how warm her skin felt against my lips. As soon as this wonder passed, I realized that it had been long enough and pulled hastily away.
"Good boy," she rewarded, patting my head patronizingly and handing over the container. "Here you go."
Embarrassed, I took the container without looking at her and, after probing its unpromising exterior for a few seconds, found the lid, then tried to pry it open. The woman laughed at my failed attempts.
At this insult, I frowned, doubting she had done any better the very first time she encountered such a container, before finally hitting upon the idea of twisting. I twisted while I pushed and twisted while I pulled, then it finally gave. Casting aside the lid, I drew out a sort of thick, starchy cake and sampled it. It tasted halfway between tender steak and sweet fruit.
All while I ate, the woman watched me with a vacant smile. As soon as I finished, she snatched the container from me and strutted out of the room. I was alone again.
For several more feeding times, the process repeated with little variation. Sometimes I was supposed to strip, sometimes I was supposed to debase myself verbally and sometimes I was supposed to dance. As with my other tasks, I made a fool of myself when I danced, but it seemed to be my caretaker's favorite; she demanded more dances than any other act of submission.
Other than that, however, complicated tasks were rare; usually, my only duty was to lie back and accept whatever she wished to do to me. She never forced intercourse on me, but she would lick my nipples or fondle my genitals, or simply sit there and cuddle me like a stuffed animal. Whatever her desire, I always obeyed. If I did not, I knew, then I would only be forced to obey later.
In my down time, of which I had only too much, I thought about this strange woman and her mannish sexuality; she saw me as a man sees a woman- as a target to be conquered, or as an object to be used. Never had I seen a female of such voraciousness.
She wouldn't be the last.
One day, she strode into my room with no food, but instead with what I recognized as a leash, a short whip and what looked like a pair of handcuffs. Unusually, she was fully clad.
"Stand up straight," she casually ordered.
Standing up, I realized that she had nothing to offer me. I saw a rare opportunity for petty defiance.
"What are you going to do?" I asked.
That had come out more passively than I had intended.
As her answer, the woman drew her whip and flicked it out at me, striking my left haunch and nearly causing me to topple over under the sudden pain.
"Never question your orders, boy," she hissed. "Now do as you're told. Turn around, put your wrists together behind your back and stand up straight."
