Editor's note: this fictional work contains scenes of completely fictional incest or fictional incest content.
*****
Jaera sighed as she looked at her image in the mirror. Gods, what a ridiculous outfit. She turned and twisted, trying to find an angle that didn't make her look strange. Is that what the women of the Plains looked like all the time? She couldn't imagine. Jaera squared up to the mirror again plucked at the sleeve of the white cotton blouse. So uncomfortable, the long sleeves making her skin feel itchy and strangely closed off from the world. Even worse was the long skirt that covered her down to her ankles. And then a final indignity, a tight black corset around her middle.
Her mother, Zella, chose that moment to enter her room. "Oh, sweetie, you look lovely," she said, casting an admiring gaze over her eldest daughter.
"I just don't understand why I need to wear this stuff," Jaera huffed, turning to her mother. They could have hardly looked different. She was in this astoundingly uncomfortable getup, while her mother was in the simple white loincloth of the jungle women. This was the first day, in all of her twenty years, that Jaera had been covered up like this, and she wasn't handling it well.
Her mother took her by the shoulders and turned her back towards the mirror. "Because it's tradition. Back when the Pact was made the Plains women were unaccustomed to our way of dress, so we wore things that would make them more comfortable. It's only for the first day, after that you can wear what you want. Besides..." Jaera's mother cupped her hands around the fat swell of Jaera's tits and squeezed through the blouse. "I think you look wonderful dressed like this."
"Mmmm, mother," Jaera moaned, leaning into her mother's hands. Her touch always inflamed Jaera's loins, and this time was no different. It didn't help that her mother was the very picture of a tribal matron. Her huge tits capped with puffy nipples, each pierced with a thick silver ring. Her tiny waist flaring out into wide hips and a fat ass. Her skin was covered in geometric tattoos, recounting her tribal history and her own position. Jaera's skin was as of yet almost completely unmarked, other than the tribal mark between her breasts that she received when she came of age. And then there was her mother's cock, a log of pulsing flesh that hung to her knees. Jaera turned in her mother's grasp, reaching under her loincloth to stroke that cock, fingers gliding across the barbells that marched along her cumvein. "I'm going to miss you."
"It's only a month, dear, you'll be back before you know it." She drew her daughter into a kiss, her tongue plunging into Jaera's mouth. They moaned into each other, breasts pressing together, making out until Jaera's own cock began to swell and make a tent in her skirt. They were only interrupted by a tapping on the door, and they turned to see who it was.
It was Annika, the leader of the trading party gazing at them fondly. She was a generation older than Jaera's mother, but had never been chosen as a blessed matron, a mother of the tribe. Instead she had put all of her energy into making sure the annual trade fair was a success. She hadn't failed yet.
"I'm sorry to cut in, but it's time to go."
The entire village turned out to watch the traders depart, crowding the platforms and walkways of their treetop home. Jaera turned to take it all in, the houses and meeting halls, workshops and storerooms. The day before she had helped haul fruits and medicinal plants down from the farm terraces. These, along with pelts and ivory hunted from the dangerous creatures of the jungle, would be their trade goods this fair. In return they would receive metal tools, finished goods like her mirror, and wine and whiskey made from fruits that only grew on the plains. Every twenty-year old in the village was joining the trading fair, seven in all, along with Annika and two of the tribe's hunters, brought just in case. Tradition demanded that every tribe woman took the journey in their twentieth year. Many continued to go for years after, but this year their group was small.
Theirs was the closest village in the jungle to the trade town and the journey was quick, a short trip to the forest floor where their pack animals were waiting, and a few hours walk over well trodden paths to the edge of the jungle. The trade town was on a low rise just into the plains, smoke already rising from some of the chimneys. The women of the closest village on the plains must have beat them, and they were busy setting up. Already the doors and windows of the bunkhouses and storerooms were open and airing out. Covers had been taken off of beds and other furniture. And in the center of town tables were assembled, already loaded with food and drinks.
The plainswomen greeted them excitedly, cheering when Jaera's little convoy came walking up the street. There were a lot more of them than there were jungle tribeswomen, nearly three dozen women, mostly twenty year olds too, but a smattering of older women. They were all, to Jaera's eyes, shockingly beautiful. Long lustrous hair spilling down their backs, every smile framed by pouty lips. The clothing that she felt so uncomfortable with looked perfect on all of them.
It was the duty of the two closest villages to open the trade fair, and to renew the oaths that bound their two people. So once the jungle women had unloaded their animals, bringing cordials and ciders and the fruits of the jungle to the feasting tables, they gathered together. Jaera found herself seated between a pair of blonde twins, gorgeous button nosed little things, and she knew right away that she'd have to work hard to keep her self control intact.
Up at the head of the tables, Annika was seated next to the leader of the plainswomen, a woman of about the same age named Myla. They stood together and clasped hands, their free hands holding their wine goblets aloft.
"Sisters," Myla began. "Sisters of the plains and of the jungles. We come together on this day to renew the ancient bonds that tie us together."
Annika was smiling, and she knew this speech by heart. She spoke out in a confident voice. "Generations long ago the men of the coast, slavers and reavers, dominated the plains and held their women under cruel bondage."
"And when the women of a village finally rose in rebellion they turned to the jungle for sanctuary. The men fear the jungle, and for good reason." Myla grinned at the pleased chuckle that sounded from the jungle girls. "That's right, they found friends in the jungle. Saviors."
"Together, our ancestors defeat the men of the coast. Drove them from the plains, denied them entry to jungles. And they squat in their cities even now, plotting and scheming." Annika raised her goblet even higher. "So we remain vigilant."
"Vigilant indeed," Myla said. She turned and looked at Annika. "May the bonds of our friendship never break."
"May the ties that bind us be as strong as iron."
They finished together, their voices ringing out. "Two people, united in purpose, brought together in flesh and blood and spirit."
"Drink now, sisters," Myla said happily. "Drink and renew our bonds."
There was a cheer from the assembled women and they all tipped back their goblets. Soon enough the wine was flowing freely, the plates were piled high with food, and the feast began in earnest.
