2 comments/ 6497 views/ 3 favorites Conquistadora By: PulpWyatt Peace is a precious thing. I reminded myself of that as I looked over the village. Mud and thatch huts rose from the hot, muddy sand, shading their occupants from the wrath of the sun goddess. In between, scraggly green weeds grew on and around the tan dirt paths, which had beaten down by hundreds of bare feet over the ages. Wherever there was soft dirt, there were farms. Ripe maize hung at shoulder-height, while beans and squash carpeted the ground. One of the maize fields had been deemed ripe, and now the slaves were at harvest, their bare backs brown and even red in the sun. Even from my distance, I could hear the shouts of the overseer. One woman stood in the middle of them, dressed in the bloom of feathers, jewels and war paint that women always wore. She shrilled out orders to the slave boys, making them flinch whenever she looked at them. As I watched, one of the boys collapsed on the edge of the farm, pawing at the dirt, struggling to get himself up. It was only a matter of time before the slave driver saw him. I couldn't watch anymore. I leaned into a jog, my bare feet padding on the hard dirt path, the hot air flowing across my bare chest and shoulders, brushing back my medium-length brown hair. My itchy woven collar bounced with my stride, scratching at my neck. I knelt by the slave boy, taking one of his hands. He looked pitifully up at me. "My back," he said softly. "It hurts." "Hey!" barked the overseer, "what do you think you're doing?" My muscles froze up. Before I could convince myself to move, the overseer's hand clamped onto my shoulder and pulled, sending me flat on my back. Her bare foot came down on my chest, almost choking me, and I stared worriedly up at her, shielding my eyes. The overseer looked no less intimidating when I could see up her loincloth. Her white-painted face seemed like a second sun, blasting me with all of its intensity, and her strong, tattooed arms hung like snakes, ready to throttle me if I made a wrong move. "Get out of here, boy," she snarled. "These slaves aren't going to harden up on their own. The last thing I need is for some stupid cock to come in here and s-" "Get off my boy!" yelled a new voice. I cringed. The overseer looked over at the speaker. I did too, but I didn't need to. I knew that voice. A woman marched up to us, short but stocky and mean, with skin a shade darker than everyone else's and with black fangs painted under the corners of her mouth. Her black hair hung down to her shoulders, billowing out like a cape, and her muscular arms were festooned with woven cuffs heavy with polished stones. A wreath of feathers held together by a tough rope hung around her waist, holding up her dun grass skirt. This was Maccuahuitl, my wife. My mother had married me to her three months ago, and, since then, Maccuahuitl had never let me forget that I belonged to her. A shadow fell over me. I looked up, seeing Maccuahuitl looming over me on all fours, her hair spilling down around her. She brought her mouth down inches from mine. "What do you think you were doing here?" she whispered, in breathy, sinister voice. "Huh? What's the big idea?" "That slave," I said, with all the resolution I could muster. "He needs help." "Oh, I bet you were helping alright. You were fucking him, weren't you?" "No." "Yeah, I bet you were. You and those fucktoys over there? You were having a good time, weren't you?" "No!" She grabbed my chin and forced my head to the side, turning my eyes to a field full of slaves, all of them watching me with fear and fascination. Maccuahuitl's breath tickled my ear. "Well, you don't get to have fun with them anymore," she huffed. "You hear me? I want kids next spring, and you're staying hard until then. Got it?" I failed to respond. A hand reached down under my loincloth, and fingers closed around my unguarded manhood, hot and tight. She pumped it once, and I gasped. "This is mine," she said, "not yours, and no one uses it until I say so, got it?" "Yes... yes, my wife." "Hah. Good." Finally, her fingers lifted away, and she marched off, holding her head high. I lay limply on my back for a second, still recovering from her sudden domination. I turned back to the slaves, massaging my chin, and looked for the sun-sore boy. Before I found him, the overseer's eyes met mine, searing anger at me. She opened her mouth to say something, then froze. Her scowl melted, and, for the second time, she stepped worriedly back. The slaves did the same. Turning around, I saw what had frightened her, and I suddenly wished I could be in the fields with her. Nemamauhtilo walked up to me in her commanding imperial stride. I did the only thing a man can do; I stood up straight and waited. "You," she said, pointing to me, "was that woman harassing you?" For one moment, my mind was a formless whirlpool. Nemamauhtilo was the one woman who even my wife feared. A generation ago, the Itecotlaca empire had come to our village, demanding tribute. It had seemed benign at first, until we learned that the empire demanded not only food, but human beings to be dragged off to sacrifice to their goddesses. We had resisted, and the Itecotlaca imperials had put down the rebellion. They had taken a dozen prisoners, including men, and left Nemamauhtilo behind to keep us obedient. We had cowered under her cruel eyes ever since. And now those eyes were fixed on me. "Answer me, boy," she said icily. "No," I stammered out. "I'm... that's my wife. We're..." "I was referring to the slave driver. I know you are not hers." "Oh," I said, "No. No, I'm fine." Nemamauhtilo stared lethally at me, and I braced myself to be sentenced to the altar. Instead, she turned smartly around and marched away. I breathed a quick sigh of relief, then turned and sprinted off to the jungle before anyone else could threaten me. In the jungle, I was safe. This thick, sticky morass of hot leaves and flowers bordered the northern side of the village, and it stretched as far as anyone cared to explore. It was the perfect place for my friends and me to socialize. We spoke freely there, safely away from feminine judgment, and some of us even made love, if we had such inclinations. When we returned, we always brought baskets of fruits and vegetables we had picked along the way, and the women had no reason to suspect we had been up to anything else. Now the other boys gathered in a sand circle in sight of a grotto- one of our favorite clearings. There were seven of us there already. Three of them stood a distance away, but still within earshot, adding to a half-filled basket of guavas, tomatoes and other goods in the middle of the clearing. The rest sat around the basket, talking or fidgeting. The sun, the sand and the air were all so stiflingly hot, a few of the boys weren't even bothering to wear their loincloths, letting their organs hang free or rest on the sand were they sat. The other boys all greeted me with upraised hands and casual fanfare. I smiled and returned the gesture as I sat in the clearing, keeping my loincloth on. "It's been a long time," said Icniuh, my best friend. "Come here..." He reached for me, and I swept him up into a hug, feeling his hot, slippery skin on mine. We kissed, and I could feel his well-practiced lungs pulling on me in gentle pulses. His fingers touched my firm stomach, then crawled down beneath my loincloth. "Ooh," I moaned. "Not now. I'm married, Icniuh. We can't do this anymore." Icniuh's fingers pulled reluctantly away, but he couldn't resist trailing them on my skin for a few more seconds, letting me feel his heat. "How's the marriage going?" he asked, sitting us both down on a log. I frowned, knowing that there was no escape from that question. Moans of sympathy came from everyone. Icniuh handed me a dozen beans, which I gratefully took. The other boys quieted down as I ate. I hunched covetously over the morsel, making no effort to keep my eating quiet. Beans were not a rarity, but a gift given out of compassion was a treasure I could always appreciate. I savored every last speck of it. "There," Icniuh said, as I finished them, "are you feeling better?" "Yes," I breathed. "Thank you, Icniuh." "So, what is it like? Is she demanding? What do you do at night?" The other boys huddled close. None of them knew what to expect when their turn came to have sex, and any first-hand account would be precious to them. "Nothing, yet," I said. "She says she won't use me until spring." Everyone's face fell. "Just today," I added, "she was pushing me around because she thought I was fooling around with the slaves." "Slaves?" said someone. Two other boys broke out in heavy, wide-mouthed laughter, and a third one joined in. Icniuh tittered, looking to me, and I managed a smile. "She thinks we have sex with slaves?" said one of them, "Women still think that? Oh, sprits, where does that come from?" "No idea," I said. "But, thanks to it, I get no peace anymore." "Peace?" "Peace is a precious thing. Before I was married, I lived without fear. I crafted, I spun and I even helped make stew sometimes. The women protected me, and I served them. That's how it's supposed to work. But Maccuahuitl is different. I need to watch everything I say around her... everything I do, too. She seems to think I'll slip off and cheat on her if she so much as turns her back. I'm lucky if she doesn't have a leash on my collar by winter." "Maybe she'll grow out of it," said Icniuh. "She's still young. She might need a few months to get used to the fact that you're hers." "No," I said. "She's not young. She's twenty-eight. At that age, there's no excuse for this." "Well... what else can you do?" "I'm going to run away." The clearing fell silent. The one boy who was still foraging stopped in his tracks. "Wait a minute," said Icniuh, "think about what you're saying. This isn't wise. Where would you go? I heard they eat men alive in the highland tribe." "No," said someone else. "That's just if you lose. They'll tie your ankle to a big stone ring, and a girl will come in fight you. If you win, she's your slave." "I thought that was the volcano tribe," said a third boy. "The highlanders have to come down and steal men, because they're all women, and-" "What about-" "I'm not going to another tribe," I cut off. "Not the highlanders, not the marsh hunters and not the islanders. I'm going to meet the conquistadoras." Everyone gasped. One boy laughed nervously, thinking it was a joke. Then he clammed up. "They're not even human," someone started up. "They're made of metal. Why them?" "You can't go there," said Icniuh, desperation creeping into his voice. "Please, just don't. They don't speak our language. Even the Itecotlaca are scared of them. If they see you alone, they'll beat you and rape you. Maybe worse." "That's nothing my wife won't do," I returned. "And, besides, rumor has it they're coming this way next. The Itecotlaca are denying it, but no one can stop them. A lot of people think they're goddesses. Maybe they'll treat me better than Maccuahuitl, and maybe they won't. But I do know this: it's always wise to side with the winning team. If they're going to take me, I'd rather they do it peaceably." Icniuh stared at me with sorrowful resign. He knew I couldn't be dissuaded. "Good luck," he murmured. "That's all I can say." * * * That night, Maccuahuitl fell asleep with her arms curled tightly around me, pulling me up to her chest. I lay patiently, unable to sleep even if I had wanted to. I waited for her grip to loosen. Halfway through the night, she grew so hot that she sweated, and I could feel her womanhood getting dewy. To my embarrassment, I hardened. If Maccuahuitl had woken up and tried to use me on the spot, she would have had no trouble. Her fingers tightened around me, and I bit my lip to keep from whimpering as her nails dug grooves into my shoulders. She sidled closer to me, pressing her hot skin to mine and trying to envelop me with her strong arms and lustful fingers. When she shifted, I rotated, giving her an arm instead of my whole body. When she pulled tighter, her sweaty hands slipped off my arm. I was out of her hands. I wasn't free- I would never be free until I had this blasted collar off- but at least I could move. Meekly, I padded out of the hut, ducking out into the open air. The stars shone, peaceful as ever, as though the goddesses were watching me with a thousand passive eyes. I stared back up at them, and my beating heart went calm. No matter what happened, the goddesses would be there, watching. I made east, in the direction the conquistadoras hailed from, according to hearsay. I broke into a jog, letting my feet rustle on the sand. Halfway to the edge of the village, I paused, looking out over the eastern sand dunes. They stretched from one edge of my vision to the next, welcoming me and challenging me at the same time. It may have held desolation, or peril, or even death. But it also held freedom. Just as I prepared to start, a strong, feminine hand came down over my mouth, and another one curled around my bare stomach. I stiffened, yelping into the hand. "What are you doing outside?" came a female voice. "Alone at night? That's dangerous for a cock like you, you know." "No..." I whimpered. "No..." "Relax. If I used you, my sister would have me for lunch when she found out. I'm just warning you." Her arms came away, and her hand stung on my left ass cheek. I barely restrained a whoop. I turned around, covering my crotch out of habit, and saw my sister. Her body looked like Maccuahuitl's, but her eyes were a world apart from her sister's. They were heavy-lidded and sedate, panning over my mostly-naked body with quiet enjoyment. "You'd better get moving," she said. "Whatever my sister sent you for, she's not going to wait long for it." I nodded wordlessly and sprinted off like a scared animal. Miles away from the village, my feet stopped pounding so desperately, and I slowed to a walk, pacing myself. At first, I glanced feverishly over my shoulder, expecting to see Maccuahuitl hunting me. As the night wore on, and no living thing disturbed me, my nerves calmed. I looked up at the sky again. I had done it; I had run away. I was free now, and, more importantly, I was at peace. I saw fire ahead. Since there were no tribes on this parched stretch of earth, fire could only mean one thing: conquistadoras. I crept along the sand, my heart racing. This was the moment of truth. I heard voices and straightened my posture, craning my neck and squinting to see what was ahead. In the distance, human figures spoke over fires and slept on sprawling black cots, and a few of them even talked. In between them, I saw something less familiar. Towering, furry animals stood by the fires, standing on four straight legs that ended in circular hooves. Fans of black hair swung behind their muscular bodies, and long heads hung at the ends of thick, upward-slanting necks. On the tops of their heads, tall, broad ears perked up, then trained on me. I gasped, still unwilling to believe that they had seen me. A few of the people scrambled to their feet, and I froze. "Intrusa!" cried a female voice, "Por ahí!" I watched, my feet rooted to the floor, as two people stood up, then six, then ten. They marched up to me, shadowy silhouettes against the starry night sky. Something terribly cold pressed into the small of my back. I jumped, yelping, and turned around. A woman stood behind me. To my disconcert, her chest and head were both covered in some stiff, shiny material. Her leather pants led down to her feet, which hid within enclosed sandals. Most strikingly of all, however, was her face. Her skin was pale white, her features were soft, but firm, her brown eyes sat under smoothly curved eyebrows and her hair was bright yellow- a color I had never seen before. She stared at me with intent curiosity. "Es sola, y es casi de nuda," she said, in a calm, inquisitive voice. "Esa es unusual, aún para su gente. No es guerrera, verdad?" I stared back at her, having no idea what to make of it. "Pade..." she said, her eyebrows rising, "mis diosas, eres muchacho!" "What?" I said at last. "Who are you? What are you doing?" "You're not a warrior, are you?" she said. I started. This woman spoke my language flawlessly. "No," I said, as soon as I gathered myself. "No, I'm not a fighter. I'm... I'm lost." I had said that without thinking, but it was mostly true. The woman looked past me, over my shoulder, and I turned. A few other figures marched toward us, clanking with every step. "They're coming for you," the woman said to me. "Don't panic. I will handle this." I clasped my hands, shifting worriedly from foot to foot as the woman stepped between me and the advancing figures. My fate was in her hands now. "No os proucupéis," said the woman."Es mi novio." "Un novio?" came the response. "Tienes novio, Catalina?" "De verdad?" said another voice. "Ah, por supuesta," said another, sounding insincere. "Si, si, qualquier dices, Catalina." "No hay peligro," said the woman next to me. "Voled a cama." "Bueno. Diviertate con el. No dirémos, te prometolo." The distant women turned back to their fires. I looked to the woman next to me, having no idea what to expect. I wanted to thank her, but my mouth would not move. "Come with me," she said. She did not give me a choice. Her hand closed around my wrist, gently but firmly, and she led me away from the others. I hadn't understood what she had said, but I still knew enough about women to know that she was my lifeline. At the crook of a sand dune, she sat me down and knelt in front of me, her eyes a few inches above mine. "What have you done?" she said. "You could have been killed." "What did I do wrong?" I asked. "You looked like a raider. You almost spooked the guards." These women were probably not goddesses, then. "I'm sorry," I said. "I didn't mean to scare anyone. I was only running away from home." The woman recoiled, her eyebrows jumping. Her face changed from bafflement to indignation. "You ran away from your own family?" she said accusingly. "My wife scared me." "You ran away from your WIFE?" I hung my head and said, "Yes." "What possessed you?" "She was going to hurt me. She kept thinking I was going to cheat on her, but I wasn't. I didn't want to belong to her for the rest of my life. I came here to be safe." The woman's shoulders slumped, and pity filled her eyes. "I always knew these people were cruel to their men," she said, "but I had still imagined better than this." Her other hand reached for my wrist, and I jerked my arm away. She looked up at me, softly and full of compassion, and I returned my hand to her. She enclosed it in her fingers. "You're safe with me," she said. "My name is Catalina. What are you called?" I hesitated. "Or I could think of a name for you," she said. "How about... Valentino?" "Fatlentico..." I tried. "Valentltino..." Catalina giggled and said, "I'm sure you'll get used to it. Most boys do." "You mean there are more?" "Of course. You're not the only one of the native's boys we've taken in. Would you like to meet the others?" I sat upright, wanting to kiss the woman on the spot, and said, "Yes. Yes, please!" She helped me up, still holding my hand, and I eagerly followed her past the strange four-footed things, past sacks of unknown goods, past armored women who crouched over boards, rolling dice and drinking. Up ahead, my heart leapt as I saw a circle of boys, most of them my age, sitting around a fire. I saw plenty of loincloths just like mine, but a few of them wore cloaks or robes. Conquistadora "A new boy!" said one of them, in my language. "There's a new boy, everyone! Come on, sit down." I looked over to Catalina, who gave me a curt nod, and I sat gently down between two of the boys. "My name is Alfonso," said the boy to my left, speaking in a shoreline accent. "And this is Gustavo. What does your mistress call you?" "Valentlino," I said. "That's what she calls me." "That's lovely!" said Alfonso. "How are you feeling? Are you scared?" Catalina folded her arms, smiling warmly, and said, "Make my boy feel welcome, Alfonso. I have something to attend to." With that, she turned and left. "Take care, Catalina!" said Alfonso. "Now, Val, you should tell us something about yourself." For the next hour, I told the others my story. The, for a few more hours, I heard theirs. Some had been taken by the conquistadoras, others had come willingly, and still others had been given as gifts to these strange armored women. The boys all looked and acted healthy, and they told of the love and protection their new mistresses lavished on them. The night wore on. Just as the stars grew hazy from the approaching sun, I heard something behind me. Hands clamped around my mouth, and strong arms pulled me to my feet. Beside me, I could see other boys being yanked and restrained by shadowy, feminine figures. I tried to look up, hoping against hope that I would see Catalina, but the hands held my head where it was, forbidding me to look closely. As soon as we had all been seized, one of the women said something in the conquistadora language, and they carried us down to the edge of the camp, away from the four-legged beasts, the fires and the other women. In a dip between two sand dunes, the women let us go, sending us tumbling into a hot, painful heap. We disentangled ourselves, and I looked up at the dozen women on the crest of the dune, all in thin outfits of leather and wool. "Who are these?" I whimpered. "Where's Catalina?" "This..." said Alfonso. "I thought we were done with this." "What?" "Just do what they say. Please, don't cry out, or they'll punish us." I looked to Alfonso, then back to the women, and my heart sank. Now I knew exactly what to expect. The tallest woman advanced and put her hands on her hips, sweeping her eyes across the gaggle of men who cowered beneath her. Licking her lips, she took one by the wrist, hoisted him up and dumped him back down on the sand. Before he could regain his bearings, she was on top of him. I turned just quickly enough to see a short, rugged-looking black-haired woman bearing down on me. Her arms wrapped around my bare chest, and she forced a kiss, mashing and sucking on me with irresistible force. Her hands found their way beneath my loincloth, and eager fingers grabbed at my rear, grasping and kneading my flesh, pulling body against hers. My cock hardened through the cloth, and I knew she could feel it. A little moan transferred through her lips, and she stopped the kiss. Her predatory brown eyes bored holes in me. She flashed a carnivorous grin. She pushed, and I fell back, my body unfurling in the soft sand. I felt the air tickle my balls as she lifted away my only clothing. Her hands were everywhere, pumping the shaft, palming my balls and running up and down the gentle grooves of my stomach muscles. Lips touched my stomach, running slowly up my chest, her tongue lapping at my skin. Teeth closed around my nipples, and I yelped, clutching fistfuls of sand. The woman let out a hearty, breathy laugh and straddled my chest. Hot liquid ran down my skin, and she sighed as she scooted herself up my body. Planting her palms on the ground, she hosted her womanhood up to my lips, seized my hair and pressed me into her. I knew what she wanted me to do, and I also knew that I didn't have a choice. I flicked my tongue out, barely touching her hot membrane, and she squealed. Her hands pulled my head in, burying me into her, and I could feel her legs shaking with tension. I could scarcely breathe, and moisture and musk filled the air around me. I flicked my tongue out again, making a long pass over one of her walls, and she pushed harder. I stuck my tongue as far in as it would go, wiggling it back and forth, then swept upward. The tip of my tongue grazed her clitoris, and she shook, almost crushing me. She lifted away and grinned at me, staring down her whole body at my prone, defenseless form. Her palm pressed onto my collarbone, mashing me into the sand, and she shifted back, straddling my pelvis. Her hand reached down and grabbed my organ, pumping a few more times. I braced myself. "Deténgase!" cried a voice. The black-haired woman froze and looked up. She hastily dismounted me, her foot smashing into my hip. She stood up along with the rest of the women, leaving us men as hot, wet wrecks on the sand. I dreaded to imagine what it was that scared her. Gathering myself, I pulled my loincloth back on. I turned and looked. Catalina was there, bleary-eyed and wearing only a simple cloth tunic that covered her torso and upper legs, leaving her arms and neck bare. She stood beside another, armored Conquistadora. In front of them, a woman in black robes stood imperiously on the dune crest, her brown hair hanging well past her stomach. Her right hand held a box with a strange symbol on it, and the left one curled into a fist. "Pecadoras," she frothed, "Exclpiquen este. Se he advertido dos veces ahora. Esos hombres no son sus. Han roto las escrituras una vez demasiada." The woman who had just been straddling me now trembled. Her companions gathered behind their frightened leader. "Conmigo," said the robed woman. "Todos. Dejen los hombres. María, encuentren las esposas. Catalina, vigílenlos." I watched, amazed, as the women who had been smothering us mere seconds ago stood up and carefully donned their clothes, peeking fearfully at the robed one, who led them away, seething with cold indignation. The armored Conquistadora sprinted off, leaving Catalina. Catalina rushed down into the pit. I reached up for her, and she clasped me. Instantly, I felt safe. "I'm sorry, Valentino," she said to me. "I am so sorry. I didn't think this would happen again." "Who were those?" I asked. "I'll explain. Wait a moment." Catalina stood still and watched the camp until a few armored women came marching for us, their faces full of concern. "There," said Catalina, "now, to get you cleaned up." Gently, she released me, then took my hand and led me back to the camp. She sat me on a log in front of a fire and dipped her hands in a wooden bucket full of water. She placed her hands on my chest and started rubbing, and I could feel sweat and dirt falling away. The cold water should have made me bristle, but, under her careful touch, I only felt warmth. When she reached my cheeks, she daubed carefully around my eyes, cleaned under my hair without pulling on it and even used her blade to shave my facial hairs, all without hurting me. When she finished, her fingers curled softly around my chin and pulled me up to her. Our lips met with a gentle press and a flood of warmth. Her hands fell over my shoulders like shrouds, and I allowed myself to be held as we savored each other. We separated, and I snuggled against her, feeling her warmth and strength all around me. For minutes- hours, maybe- we sat under the stars, with nothing but each other and the fire. At last, Catalina spoke up. "Those women who took you," she began. "They were sinners. A sinner is one who breaks the laws of Queen." "Queen?" She looked at me for a moment, shock marring her peaceful visage. "The other boys didn't tell you, did they?" she said. "Queen is Goddess, creator of all things. She looks after the world and all womenkind." "Who looks after mankind?" "Women do. Queen has set four laws that every woman must obey. First: never lay down two coals where one will suffice. Second: always measure before you pick an apple. Third: never lay a hand on your own family, unless it is for their own safety." "What does that mean? And what's an apple?" Catalina giggled and said, "It means you never take more of something than you need, always think before you act, and never act in anger around someone you love." I curled up tighter in her arms and said, "I like that last one." "You've been hurt before, haven't you?" "Yes." "Where is your home?" "A little west. Its name won't mean anything to you." "We're going west tomorrow. Our next target is a little village across the desert." My face went slack. "That's your home, isn't it?" I thought on this for a long moment. Catalina stroked my hair gently, waiting for a reply. "I have no home," I said at last. "We have a saying in my village, 'a seed grows where it is planted.' And I can never go back to where I was planted." "And that makes you homeless? In my land, we say, 'home is where the heart is.'" I stopped a moment, processing this idea. She was suggesting that I could decide where my home was, not the other way around. She was saying that my home could change. "Yes," I said. "Yes... that's it. My heart left that place when the women stopped treating me like a friend. A little before I married, something changed. I was no longer someone to be protected. I was only a possession, a means to an end and something to fight over. If my heart is anywhere, it's here, Catalina." "That's a big thing to say after just one night." "I have to trust my heart to someone. Please, be gentle with it." Her hand found mine and clasped it. "You have to know what you are getting into," she said. "You must realize that we are invaders. Doña Hernánda won't let us stop until she finds the city of gold she seeks." "You can take my village. Just treat the others as well as you're treating me. That's all I ask." "I will do what I can." A pause. "A city of gold?" I said. "You'll be searching in this land for a long time." "I know," she sighed. "Such is the life of an adventurer." "Come, rest with me." Unfurling myself from her touch, I stepped over to her cot by the fire and set myself on one side of it. I looked up at her expectantly. Her stare grew sultry, and I knew I had her interest. To my delight, she got down and stretched herself alongside me, her strong, soft blue eyes staring straight into mine. I fell asleep under the spell of those eyes. * * * "Levántate, Catalina. Es el día grande." My eyes shot open, and, for one awful moment, I didn't know where I was. I saw Catalina, and my nerves cooled. The events of last night came marching back to me, one at a time. Beside me, Catalina stretched, groaning noisily. She gathered herself and sat up. "Uno momentito," she said. "Valentino, we march today. Can you walk far?" "Yes." "Good. Come with me to breakfast." At breakfast, the conquistadoras ate fruits, meats and vegetables that I had never lain eyes on before, plus a few local morsels, which they generously shared with me. "Valentino," said Catalina, "I want you to stay here while we attack the village. If you got hurt in the fighting, I would never forgive myself. And... I'm not sure you want to watch us take the village." "What?" I said. "You can't leave me. Don't you remember what happened last time?" Catalina stopped eating and thought for a moment, frowning. "It's true," she said, "there would be women who stayed behind here, and they could be a danger to you. But to come with us... you realize what you are asking for, don't you? You could witness a battle." "I know," I said. "I don't know what I am getting into, but I know what I am getting out of. I need you protecting me, Catalina. What happened last night... that's what I came here to get away from." Catalina sighed, her eyes emanating concern, and said, "So be it. You can come with me. But please, in Queen's name, keep yourself safe." "Don't worry. I have no illusions about my usefulness in combat, and I know a thing or two about concealment." An hour later, we marched across the desert, going the back the way I had come. The conquistadoras carried most of their burdens, but also loaded some onto the strange hoofed animals that walked with them. Their men carried the rest. My village appeared, looking foreign as a silhouette in the distance. Quickly, Catalina donned her armor, shutting herself in beneath hard, shiny plates. She sent me one more worried glance. "Don't worry about me," I said to her. "I'm not a fighter, but I'm not a fool either." We reached the village, and the conquistadoras lined up in front of it, the men and boys filtering back. If I had had any sense, I would have hung back with the other boys, but I stayed close behind Catalina. I couldn't leave her just yet." Up ahead, the women of the village formed an opposing line, some already carrying their weapons. The chieftain stepped up to the front, forgoing the servant-borne litter that most chiefs used. She stood up straight and approached the conquistadora, only to be elbowed aside by Nemamauhtilo, the representative of the Itecotlaca empire. "Hey!" shrilled a loud voice, "That's him!" I looked, and a shudder passed all the way up my spine; that was Maccuahuitl, armed and war-painted as always. She was staring straight at me. Everyone- even the leaders- looked to the two of us. Catalina looked back, seeing my terrified expression, and looked back to Maccuahuitl. Immediately, she understood. "You may have chosen him," said Catalina, throwing an arm around me, "but he chose me." "You stole him!" cried Maccuahuitl. "Damn you, you stole my husband! I'll fight you for him!" "There is no need for that," boomed a new voice. The rest of the crowd and I looked over to the leader of the conquistadoras. She sat astride one of the four-legged animals, stable as a tree. She looked down at Nemamauhtilo. "We will settle this with a duel," the leader continued. "Our best warrior against yours." "The best?" shrieked Maccuahuitl. "You're looking at her!" It was true. Maccuahuitl was far from the wisest, but she was among the mightiest and easily the quickest. "I will allow this," said Nemamauhtilo. My jaw dropped. I had never seen such authority granted to anyone, let alone to Maccuahuitl. "Let us begin, then," said the lead conquistadora. "Catalina?" Catalina cracked her knuckles loudly and turned back to me with an expression of stony determination. When she saw my distress, her face warmed. "Do not fear, Valentino," she said, putting her hands on my shoulders. "I have seen many battles, and I will win this one. I promise you, that woman will not take you." I reached for her. Her hand cradled my head, and her soft lips pressed onto mine. I closed my eyes. All too soon, she pulled away. She turned and walked towards the village, drawing a long, thin, shiny weapon that glinted in the sunlight, keeping her footsteps soft. Maccuahuitl stalked up to meet her, hunching over her obsidian-bladed club and snarling. I wanted to shut out this horrible sight, but I couldn't. My eyes were glued to Catalina as she lunged forward and jabbed with her blade, only for Maccuahuitl to duck away from the blow, elbowing the Conquistadora between the shoulder blades. Catalina recovered herself quickly, and Maccuahuitl faced her, circling her and glaring with deadly eyes. Suddenly, Maccuahuitl broke away and ran straight for me. I froze. In an instant, she was all over me. Those oppressive arms braced in front of my throat, and I felt her body on my back. The blades of her club glinted inches from my face. "Put that weapon down!" she barked, "or I kill him!" Catalina stopped. She stood up straight, stiff with horror. Everyone else- especially the women of the village- gaped at her. "Put it down!" she said again, "or I'll cut him open!" Catalina thought for a moment, straining visibly to keep calm, and said, "You can't destroy your own husband." "You want to test that?" With a quick flourish, Catalina slid her weapon into her sheath. She undid a buckle around her waist, and the sheath fell to the sand, making a little pit where it landed. "Now release him," she commanded. The arms came away from my throat, and I kicked myself away from Maccuahuitl, sprinting off toward the other villagers. As soon as I realized what I was doing, I slid to a stop, kicking up a wave of sand, and started for the line of conquistadoras. But there would be no one there to receive me. I stood in between, realizing that I now had no one to run to. I had abandoned my village, and Catalina had not yet won me. I looked back to the fight, full of hope. Maccuahuitl rushed at Catalina, swinging her club with blinding speed. The club glanced against Catalina's armor, drawing sparks, and Catalina staggered back. Maccuahuitl lunged again, striking upward, but Catalina had already given that ground, and the weapon whooshed harmlessly through the air. Before Maccuahuitl could recover, Catalina's hand darted out and seized her wrist, and, with the other hand, shoved her back, knocking her off balance. Maccuahuitl landed flat on her back, grunting, and Catalina was instantly on her, pinning her down. For a moment, Maccuahuitl reached for her fallen club, trying and failing to break the conquistadora's hold. She ceased her efforts with a huff. "I yield," she growled. Catalina stood up, wiping sweat and dirt from her face. Maccuahuitl bolted to her feet and retreated into the village, leaving her weapon behind. The conquistadoras raised a cheer, and the men joined in. I cracked a smile, then a grin, laughing with elation as I realized what I had just seen. I pumped my fist and added to the fanfare, then rushed into Catalina's arms. She swept me up, swinging me around her, then finally set me down and planted her lips on mine. "You did it!" I gasped. "You defeated her! Oh, thank you, Catalina!" "Thank you for staying with me," she returned. "I'm only glad there wasn't any bloodshed. Now hold still..." Catalina brought up a knife, holding it between her thumb and forefinger, and slid it carefully beneath my collar. The next moment, I felt the tough leather band falling away. Words failed me, and I pressed myself deeper into her. I looked over her shoulder, watching as Nemauhmautilo backed away. The conquistadoras marched on the village, weapons sheathed, and the village women slowly parted to let them through. "There's a grotto to the northwest," I told Catalina. "Meet me there this evening. I've got something special for you." Catalina smiled, showing just a hint of blush, and said, "I'll be there." * * * A little rocky cliff rose on the far side of the grotto, crawling with vines and topped with palm trees, hiding me from the horizon beyond. Above, a sliver of moon shone through the clouds, painting a pure white arc on the surface of the water. Little ripples rose and fell against the ferns at the water's edge, and insects fluttered peacefully across the leaves. I knelt by the shore opposite the rocks, clearing a patch of soil for Catalina. I heard rustling behind me, and I perked up. I turned around, grinning with excitement. Catalina emerged from the foliage, wearing her hair in a single golden braid that flowed down her shoulders. Upon seeing me, she unbuckled a knife from her belt and discarded it. "Good evening, Valentino," she said, in a low, husky purr. "Good evening, Catalina. I've got something to show you. But first, would you like to bathe?" Catalina grinned widely and curled her fingers under the hem of her shirt. Slowly, she pulled the garment away, revealing smooth muscles and soft, even skin. The shirt came up over her chest, exposing small but unmistakable mounds capped by firm pink points. Conquistadora She set the shirt down by her belt and stood for a moment, one hand on her hip, staring back at me with a knowing smile. "Come on," she said, "let me see you shed something." "Me?" Her smirk deepened, and she stepped up to me. Her hot hands closed around my shaking waist. "Or," she said, "shall I do it for you?" Fingertips slipped under my waistband, and her palms slithered down my legs, one finger-width at a time, pulling the loincloth with them. She slowed down as she reached my manhood, watching as my treasure emerged from the cloth, gradually stiffening, until the tip peeked out. Catalina let out a breathy chortle and pulled the garment away, leaving me uncovered, every inch of my small, sun-tanned body on full display. "Very nice," she said. "Now..." Her hands went down to what remained of her own outfit, and her fingers flicked and dove through a knotted string, undoing it in an instant. She flicked something else, and the whole garment fell away. I gasped, trying to hold her gaze as her bare, plush red womanhood arrested my eyes. I could see the first glisten of moisture, and I unknowingly licked my lips. "You like what you see," she said, stepping a little closer. "Care for a taste?" She pressed against me, and I looked up into intent, hungry eyes. "Well?" she asked. "Yes." Her hands hovered over my shoulders, then pressed softly down, lowering me to my knees. I gaped a moment, hardly believing what she was doing. I forced myself to reconstitute. I brought my mouth closer, shutting my eyes and extending my tongue onto soft, slick, warm skin. I licked again, going a little deeper, and I felt the sides of my tongue pushing against both of her walls. She moaned behind closed lips, and I knew I was making progress. I forced my tongue through, pressing against one wall, then another. My tongue flexed and explored, drawing more and more rivulets of wetness with each stroke. Finally, I found a nub and flicked over the very tip with my tongue. Her legs squeezed around me, and a hand came down on the back of my head. "Yes," she breathed, "there..." I traced a circle around it, teasing her with my slowness, and passed my tongue over it one way, then another. I lowered my tongue and swept it very slowly over her femininity, letting her savor every instant of hot, textured friction. Catalina squeezed and squealed with sudden pleasure. Juiced sluiced out, splashing my face, mouth and shoulders, and her fingers clenched around my hair. She pulled me out of her and looked down at me. Exhaustion and excitement played around on her dizzy face, and sweat ran down from her hairline. "Well done," she huffed. "Very well done. Let's wash." She led me down into the water, and I winced as the coldness settled around my feet, then my legs. The cold siphoned hardness from my manhood, and it quickly went limp. I stepped farther into the water, toes squishing into mud at the bottom, until I felt cold water trickle onto my back. I squealed. Catalina covered her mouth, giggling, even as her other hand brought up another palm full of water and sent in running down my bare skin. "That's cold," I stuttered. "That's not how you bathe." "But it's fun." Her smile infected me, and I laughed with her as she showered me with more water. Her hands spent more and more time on my skin until she was rubbing them all across my arms and stomach. Her head pitched forward, her lips closed into a tight smile, and she blushed visibly. I knew what was on her mind. After some time, she edged back toward the shore, leading me by the hand. She pushed me gently over, laying me on my back in the soft sand. She crawled over me, her eyes full of purpose, and her hand reached down to my manhood. "Catalina?" I asked, "are you sure you want to do this?" She silenced me with a kiss. The next moment, I felt heat, weight and wetness, and my control abandoned me. Arms came down on mine, pinning me to the sand, and she pumped herself on me with the speed and energy of a warrior. Her eyes closed, and her mouth hung open. Pleasure came withering out of her in one deep, heavy moan after the next until it reached a singing peak, and she gushed, all of her muscles tightening their grip on me. She wasn't finished. Before I could gather myself, she started riding me again. This time, she was smoother, keeping herself balanced perfectly on top of me, holding my helpless body on the ground. With every buck, she brought a ring of pleasure down my shaft, and now I could feel pressure and tension building beneath the pit of my stomach, gathering inside her. My short, high-pitched groans became weak. Finally, I arched my back and moaned out a surging orgasm, pumping hot, thick waves up into her. She lifted away, a few white strings still trailing from her, and lay down beside me, enfolding me in her arms. With her strong, warm hands holding me, I could have fallen asleep on the spot. Instead, she spoke to me, and my ears perked. "Did you enjoy it, Valentino?" she asked. "It was wonderful," I sighed. "But you know what you did to me, don't you? You might get pregnant." "And I mean to. I won't be the first. But I'll want you there when the baby comes." "Don't worry- I'm not going anywhere. I'm yours, Catalina." "Mine? Just like that?" "Do you know what you saved me from? If I had stayed at the village, I would have never had a moment's peace. That's no way to live." I snuggled tighter against her. "Peace is a precious thing," I said. "And, with you, I am safe." The End Conquistadors In their quest for gold, the Spaniards came northward from Mexico, but with winter approaching, they now sought shelter. A scout had discovered a small Indian pueblo in a nicely sheltered canyon. They made their plans of attack. If the Spaniards had humbly approached the Indians, offering to trade for what they needed, or had offered to work in a communal way, then the Indians would have provided assistance to get them through the winter. Instead they came in the name of God and King, with hearts full of arrogance and the need to feel conquest. They did not understand the culture that they now drew arms against. They attacked the men first, catching them out away from the pueblo. The Spaniards used their bows to great advantage, impaling the Indian men with their arrows from long distances and thereby avoid hand-to-hand combat. Over the course of three days, they whittled the Indian men down to just a handful. The Spaniards were sure that their God would protect them in this conquest. The words of their Bible assured their victory; " Let us make man in our image, in our likeness, and let them rule over the fish of sea, and the birds of the air, over the livestock, and over all the creatures that moved along the ground." With these words they justified the murder of the Indians whom the Spaniards did not recognize as equals or even as men. If they had truly understood their prey they would have turned their bows first on the women. They picked sunrise of the next day for the final assault and rode into the pueblo using their swords to kill the last of the men. They were surprised to find the pueblo full of beautiful fair-skinned women who had been kept from the strong rays of the sun. These women were not broken down by the hard work necessary to survive in this sun-baked, arid land. The Spaniards, being without women for two years, descended on the Indian women and took them as the spoils of war. The women offered no resistance against the Men, and in fact, were very willing lovers. They greeted the Men with smiles and giggles, cupping their hands under their bare breasts offering them as gifts. Some women fell to their knees nuzzling their noses into the crotches of the Men and inhaling deeply. They ran their hands inside the Men's shirts and pinched their nipples. Many women licked their lips seductively and engaged the Men in open mouth kissing. Other women lifted their loincloths and dipped their fingers into their sopping vaginas and then brought the nectar to the mouth of a Man to further his arousal. A few women knelt, forehead to the ground, offering their naked vagina for the taking. An all out orgy ensued. The air filled with the smell of sex and the moans of primal pleasure. All of the women wanted to want to have a penis buried deep inside of them. These Men had cocks much larger than the men of their tribe. The women laughed openly in innocent pleasure and called back and forth, bragging about how much cock they could take. There were more women than Men and so some women waited impatiently for a Man to become available or until another woman motioned for one of them to join in their coupling. The younger premenstrual women watched from the edge of the orgy or caressed the women as they were riding the Men. The older women kept a primal rhythm with their drums. When a man cried out in orgasm, his rider would drive his cock to her core, taking the seed as deep as she could. When the Man had finished his last thrusts of pleasure, his lover would rise off of the cock that had impaled her, and use her hands to wring the last few drops of semen from his spent cock. She used her mouth to thoroughly clean his penis, insuring that all of the semen remained in her body. No seed was to be wasted. Immediately the woman would try to provoke a second erection. If the Man was slow to respond she would enlist the aid of another woman that had not yet been penetrated. One would smoother his face with kisses or wrap her legs around his head as the other women licked his cock, scrotum and anus. As soon as his erection was renewed, the woman who had waited, would straddle his cock, throw her long dark hair back, and ride him with unbridled desire. The Men were milked of every last bit of their semen. The insatiable women, who had already tried many partners, coaxed the men for more sex, but the Men were spent. After two or three orgasms, another erection just wasn't possible. The Men and women lay in heaps, savoring the mellow afterglow, stroking, kissing and tasting each other. The Men, having worked up a good appetite, indicated to the women that they wanted food. In a short time, a feast was presented for everyone. It was almost as if the women had prepared it in advance. The Men being suspicious, made the women eat some of the food first. When it appeared safe, the Men ate their fill, relishing the fresh meats and vegetables. For two weeks, the women constantly seduced and feed the Men to the point of gluttony. Some Men treated the women well, while others would curse, slap, or flog a woman for the slightest mistake. Never once during this time had any women made a move toward the weapons that the Spaniards kept by their sides. The Men now trusted the women completely. They believed that they had found paradise and were making plans to take these women as brides and call this place home. One morning, half the men awoke with a fever, a rash, and a pounding heart that offered them no strength. Hours of gut-wrenching vomiting followed until they final got quiet, curled up, and died. It was no coincidence that the men who became sick also happened to be the most brutal and had showed the least respect of the Women. Pandemonium broke out among the remaining men and their superstitious fears paralyzed them. They demanded that the Women provide an antidote to protect their health. The Women offered pulque to them, a local fermented beverage made from the heart of the agave plant. The men made the Women drink first, so they drank the first half of each bowl of pulque to show the men that it was safe. The men cautiously brought the drink to their lips. It smelled like dirty socks and tasted like a mixture of old beer and sweat, but it was heady and stronger than the wine they were accustomed to. Wine had always been used in their homeland as a medicine against illness so drinking pulque made sense to them. They drank plenty for the inebriating effects and of course to insure their health. Being pleasantly drunk, they all laid down early that evening and the Women made sure that a strong orgasm carried each man into a natural deep sleep. When the men awoke the next morning, they were relieved to know that the pulque had protected them through the night. Their second realization was that their weapons were no longer by their side. A few of the men tried to overpower the Women, but without the slightest emotion, the Women used the men's own swords to hack the troublemakers to death. By the harvest moon the remainder of the men knew their fate and place. The Women controlled the food, the men must eat, and to eat, the men were required to work. The season was getting late and the men were put to work bringing in the crops necessary to carry the pueblo through the winter. By the hunter's moon most of the Women did not see their monthly blood. Their plan had been accomplished. The spaniards had unknowingly attacked during the mating festival. The Women, seeing their native men defeated so easily, felt that the spaniards must be very strong. They wanted that strength in their family lines, so for the first two weeks they used all of the spaniards for breeding stock. The food supplies would not carry everyone until spring, so the Women had intentionally reduced the men to a manageable number. Naturally, they kept only the most friendly and best-endowed specimens. The remaining men continued to believe that the pulque protected them from the fever. None of the men realized that the Women had been brewing two different types of pulque. The safe pulque was fermented with yeast from known good batches. The fermentation of the second pulque was started using pieces of rancid flesh and feces from the dead Indian men. It took about two weeks to brew a batch and it was stirred into their victim's meal after it had cooled. The fever continued to visit occasionally, but it only came to the men who displayed an ugly demeanor. The slain Indian men were given their posthumous revenge. The spaniards never really had a chance against these powerful Women. Women had ruled this land from beyond memory. Their Goddess moved the seasons and through them brought life into this world. The Women did not know of cattle and horses. Men had always served as the laborers, servants and pleasure slaves. This is how their society had always functioned. The spaniards had found their new home and their new Goddess. To this day, you can see the blend of spanish and Indian influence in the faces of the people on the west side of the Tucson Mountains.