Sam looked at Kala in dismay, her eyes wide.
Kala giggled lightly, “oh, it won’t hurt him… too much…
“as long as you rub it with sandpaper to remove any splinters…”
Sam smiled, “aah…not his man meat – the plank!” She drew the short, sharp bladed knife on her thigh and spent some time carving curls of wood from the semicircular indentations that had been cut into each side of the man trap. She worked with some skill, and considerable expertise with the knife.
“I don’t think you’ll be needing this,” she said and cut my loincloth off with the knife. She used it to smooth the edges of the holes she had enlarged. My manhood was erect, pointing up at her. She grasped it firmly and pulled me forward.
“My, that’s a strong pulse,” she purred, enjoying the uncontrolled pulsations she had caused along the length of my heated sex. “oh big boy… have I done this to you?” With a slow gentle squeeze, pressed my erection down into the notch in the wood.”
With that, she closed the man trap, holding me captive by my fully veined but helpless erection. She bolted the two planks of the luntette closed. As she turned, I saw very fine tattoo, two delicate lines of poetry in the old tongue snaking down her luscious right flank from the back of her rib cage to her hip,
“…it’s the fire in my eyes, the flash of my teeth,
the swing of my waist, the joy in my feet…”.
But as I looked, it was her soft tanned skin, the curving interplay between her hips and thighs, her flanks and flat stomach, that was her real poetry. It resonated with the pulse of my desire, rhymed with my straining muscles.
I looked around and I saw that all of us men were held this way… trapped by the thickness of our bulging erections. We had been paired for this first part of the huntresses’ trial. Some of the girls had posed themselves on the sand of the beach before their men, provoking them with athletic and gymnastic displays that had caused several of the captive penii to point to the mid-day sun, juices flowing onto the sand.
One of the girls had been mercilessly touching the captive flesh of one of the men. With a groan, I could see his penis suddenly leap, knocking against the wood as his balls convulsed and sprayed the huntresses hand and arm with hot creamy cum. I bit my lip hard, trying to distract myself from the arousing sight and stop myself from reacting in the same way.
Now Kala stepped forward, and my heart leapt in fear when I saw a hunting falcon perched on her arm. The leader of the hunt spoke with good humour, a vivacious corsair. There was sympathy in her voice too. It was the sympathy that made me most afraid.
“Sorry boys… my hawk, Angela, loves to hunt snake. She’s been on a starvation diet, so I know she’s be happy to see so much meat on display.”
Kala thrust her hand skyward, and the falcon launched herself into the air.
For some reason… perhaps the constriction caused by the man trap, try as I might, I couldn’t free myself from it. I was locked in by my lust for Sam, my meat on full display for the hunting falcon. She smiled as I struggled to free myself. I wasn’t the only one, either. Several of the other captives were sweating but their passion for these sleek amazons was so strong that they too were helplessly trapped. Living in a neighbouring village, we had all heard of this ritual. The princess of the tribe, Kala, would choose one of us as her mate. But first we would be tested. Any man who made a sound, even an involuntary reaction, would be released and not allowed to mate.
While the hawk circled in the clear blue sky above, Sam stepped toward me. She spoke quietly, almost apologetically. “I have to measure you.” She reached behind her head and untied a length of black silk ribbon from her hair. I marvelled at the rise of her breasts under the immodest band of flimsy cloth that she wore, the smoothness of her armpits. She touched her fingertips to the moist purple head of my erection and I heard her sigh softly as she pulled it down so that it was no longer pointing up under her chin but was now angled in the direction of her loin cloth and the luscious sex that lay beneath it.
Another girl, this one with auburn hair that had picked up golden highlights from a life spent in the outdoors training her tribe’s riding stallions, turned from her own charge. “It’s a hot day… aren’t you going to protect his…” she dropped her gaze to the part of me that was pushing fiercely up against Sam’s fingertips, she whispered “magnificent specimen…
“the skin’s really delicate you know…
“and I’d hate to think how his will be feeling after this long exposed to the sun like that.”
Sam nodded. “Oh, but i don’t have any of the lotion!”
“Here, take this.” The auburn-haired beauty handed Sam a small clay pot. She lifted her hand to take it. Seemingly spring loaded, my manhood thumped audibly against the wood of the stocks. The huntress unsealed the wax lid and poured the white lotion into her hands. The stallion trainer spoke again, “here, I’ll hold him down for you. He looks strong, but I’m used to handling them.” They giggled at that.
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/a7w7ip/the_lost_expedition_25_would_love_to_know_what