Natives

[yyy02]

I love to think not only where savages are capturing white tourist....

This composition and perspective (elevated view) immediately got me thinking of that evangelist that got himself killed in the South Pacific (?).
But of course, this being GIMP, I took a left turn...

Thanks for the image and inspiration vladdt!

[vladdt]

This composition and perspective (elevated view) immediately got me thinking of that evangelist that got himself killed in the South Pacific (?).
But of course, this being GIMP, I took a left turn...

Thanks for the image and inspiration vladdt!

Imagine she was a missionary working in Africa. She was a noon, but very naughty and sinful. She can't withstand a black cock. She always tried to preach alone in distant places. And often local bullies are started to humiliate her. They are demanding her to strip naked, they are beating her, calling her white whore. She submissively allows them to do whatever they want with her body. Explaining herself that she should suffer in hands of savages, as saint should do. When she was raped and covered in sperm, she asked them to whip her, because she is sinner. And need to suffer for this. But locals after covering her in sperm very quickly losing interest. She was very unlucky noon. She was only one time tied up. And only couple of times beaten. She became obsessed that she should be tortured and suffer for her sins. Because she has a beautiful body and big boobs asking to be tortured. But locals just don’t want any problems. When she asked them to be dragged naked to the village square and whipped in front of everyone - they just call her crazy and kick her out. She cried at night from fantasies of how she was fried alive in fire pit. Or eaten by ants. She tried to punish herself. She tied herself naked to the post on backyard, with tits covered in honey. She spent the whole day on the sun, enjoying when insects biting her in the nipples. But this was so rare! And she also was caught by bishop and has a serious problem. He demanded that she should visit a doctor, or she will be sent back to UK.

She was in panic. But she then heard the rumours about distant island, where still lives tribe of cannibals. She travels in this region, asking locals about details. They all warn her to not travel to this island. They told her horror stories about tribe cruelty. Those, who dare to land on this island were captured and tortured for very long time. Some fishermen swear that they heard how victims are screaming from couple miles away. And when the victim is completely exhausted from tortures and can't scream anymore - they cook her alive. She can't stand those rumours. She returned to the dirty cheap hotel, locked the door, and whipped herself with electrical wires. She stands in front of big dusty mirror naked and imagined what those savages can do with her body. She wrote to the bishop that she will be the first missionary on this island and bring Christianity to those poor souls. She stole the boat at night and sail to this island. She didn't resist when natives jumped on her, teared her clothes and tied her up. She spent the whole night tied up to the torture post, watching in anticipation how natives are preparing instruments of her tortures. She even pushes her tits forward when they start to pierce her nipples and skin with some long thorns. They were covered in some poison slowly causing extreme pain. She started to scream when they are still continuing to pierce her tits and labia with those thorns. She was in agony but thinking: "O god! At last, I'm naked, screaming from pain in front of whole village of savages! My beautiful body is using what it was destined for! And after suffering it will feed those poor souls!" They tortured her till the morning, adding new thorns as some parts of her skins become insensitive to the poison. She screamed and howled like an animal. When sun is rises, she saw a helicopter in the distance. "No, please, I don't need to be rescued!" But then she realized that it's prohibited to land on this island, and she just came from a joy. "They will film every aspect of my torment! I'm naked and screaming on every TV in the world! O god, I hope those legends are true. And those savages will keep me alive at least couple of days!" She was covered in needles like porcupine. She still was in pain from those thorns, but poison become too weak. Savages knew this. They took burning branch and start to set on fire thorn by thorn. Slowly. Fire consumes the dry thorn moving slowly to her skin. When it was close she starts to hiss. When it starts to burn her skin, she starts to scream. Savages laugh, dance, and move to the next one. "O god, they are so experienced! They can do it for hours! Can it be more beautiful?" She was ready to get best torments she dreamed about.

[vladdt]

Whores are ready to visit distant native village. She hope she will have exotic sex with natives. nobody seen them again.

[vladdt]

Presenting my wife to the tribe.

What they will do with this gift? I've found very interesting pictures about them from one missioner book.

Arena178.jpg (29.9 KiB) Viewed 9428 times

[yyy02]

Presenting my wife to the tribe.

Wife_53dkU7LOEvk09FTQRYS2hYr6Jj6.jpg

What they will do with this gift? I've found very interesting pictures about them from one missioner book.

8E2723B5-5D3D-4733-947A-F47D3DA69F33.jpeg

Arena178.jpg

A very fertile pervy mind. Two thumbs up.

Have you ever read "The Sacrifice" or "The Nest" by Cortez?

https://www.bdsmlibrary.com/stories/sto ... oryid=2081

Sorry, couldn't find The Nest on bdsmlibrary.com. But it is included in that collection that theelectrician posted:

https://ufile.io/fxt65aow

[vladdt]

Have you ever read "The Sacrifice" or "The Nest" by Cortez?

Cant see The Nest, but Sacrifice is very good! I love how they prepared her to be horny under tortures. Very good and experienced priests! I can trust them with my wife. Jut they start to sacrifice her a little quickly. But they have their rituals and we can only respect their traditions.

Will read his stories, looks like he knew how to properly torture woman. I know one very good story too about wife, but it not about savages. Too bad it was never finished.

https://www.bdsmlibrary.com/stories/sto ... oryid=2869

I also long ago wrote a story about jungle adventures, and this Sacrifice is almost what I imagined. But I'm not sure if google will be a good translator.

The jeep was shaking along a broken forest road. And it wasn’t a road at all, but a forest path. But this did not stop the driver, a local black guide, from constantly chattering, turning around and showing his white teeth.
- The honest truth, the honest truth, not a lie! – the driver turns around again to sneak a look at Kiri’s bare legs. Well, not completely bare. They have boots, socks, and denim shorts pulled over their hips. But the shorts were so tight...
- You shouldn’t go to them, oh, it's bad! – he is forced to return to taxiing. - Of course they’ve calmed down for about ten years now. And almost all of their warriors were killed by government troops. However, they were savages, and they remained savages.
He again takes the opportunity to glance at my wife. In addition to the shorts, she is wearing a shirt tied at the waist with a knot. Dark glasses and a pith helmet. She's playing the cool European tourist hard. But we both know she's turned on by her looks and especially the trip itself.
- Are you sure you want to spend a week there? – he doubtfully looks back to Kira again, and I just see him mentally saying something like “especially in this outfit"?
- Do not worry, mate! – I pat him on the shoulder. – You yourself said that they are no longer fighting. And we will just make a documentary about them. Nothing will happen to us. We'll pay them well. And the authorities in the city know where we went.
- You pay well, I won’t lie! But... - he again does not finish the sentence.
I mentally finish for him: “But a beautiful white woman walking half naked among the savages will arouse a completely unhealthy interest in them.” If only he knew that this is what we hope for.

[vladdt]

Sacrifice looks something like on those pictures. But modern tourists tortured to the death is amazing fantasy!

My wife is going to "study" the savages:

[yyy02]

Sacrifice looks something like on those pictures. But modern tourists tortured to the death is amazing fantasy!

prisoners_of_xelotlan_page_2_by_faile35.jpg

prisoners_of_xelotlan_page_3_by_faile35.jpg

My wife is going to "study" the savages:


tumblr_mrxmunFM981s5b6yso1_1280.jpg

Here is "The Nest" as provided by theelectrician:

The Nest

by Cortez. All rights reserved.
The sun had reached its peak of blazing heat before the drums finally fell silent. Silence was the signal for Salahs guards, the villagers and their women, to appear from the huts scattered among the trees. They move between the trees, making their way to the edge of a small clearing. It is nearly time for the punishment ritual to begin.
Salah himself, his two wives at his side, is the last to arrive. Salah hook nosed, muscular and with the piercing stare of the fanatic is absolute ruler of this jungle stronghold, a man feared across the island for his slow cruelty and quick anger, a man who enjoys wielding power and the dark, sadistic pleasures that such power brings
Like all the women, his wives are almost naked, just a waist string and a beaded apron each. No one among the crowd is fooled by their soft looks and downcast eyes, all know that these two are as dangerous as vipers; matching their master in their love of cruelty. They too have their part to play in what is to come
Behind the waiting villagers there are sounds of a struggle among the trees, then three muscular warriors march forwards with the writhing, whimpering figure of a naked woman held between them.. She is about twenty-five, full hipped and slim waisted with large heavy breasts, breasts that are dancing and bouncing wildly as she fights against their grip However, her hands are tied behind her back and the men they hold her easily, grinning in delight and enjoyment at their victims wild dance.
The little procession halts on the edge of the clearing. The area is ringed by thick jungle and tall trees but the coarse, gritty sand only supports some straggling bushes and a series of low, domed mounds of dry, fine sand, each one spaced at an equal distance from its neighbours across the clearing.
Salah, his face set in mask of cruel enjoyment, watches as his warriors halt in front of him. The villagers close round, forming an arc on the edge of the sand, knowing what is to happen and ready to enjoy the spectacle of this particular punishment. Salah steps forward, close to the gibbering woman. He reaches down; deliberately fingering the red, swollen lips of her sex, says a few quiet words and smiles. The woman lifts her head at his touch and gives a single, desperate squeal of agony. His fingers on her bruised flesh are just too much.
The warriors took their pleasure with her many times yesterday then, last night, it was the turn of Salahs wives. Judging by the redness and swelling on her nipples and the lips of her sex they must brought her to unwilling, screaming pleasure many times during the night. The wives are cruel but not as cruel as Salahs justice
Salah turns to his people and lifts his voice.
СThis one has betrayed us; plotted to help the Sultans forces to attack our homes then, returned as a spy in our midst. She was discovered before she could betray us all. Now, now she must pay the penalty for such betrayal, and failure I, Salah, sentence her to ride the Mound of Suffering
The womans animal screams drown out Salahs final words; the warriors, despite their size and strength, struggling to hold her still as she bucks and threshes like a mad thing against their hands.
At Salahs nod the three warriors force her forwards into the clearing whilst his wives walk delicately across to one of the mounds. A mound that has strong bamboo stakes already driven into the ground beside it.
Carefully avoiding any touch on the smooth surface for as long as possible, one of the warriors seizes the woman from behind, lifting her into the air whilst the other two other spread her legs wide apart. Ignoring the womans frantic screams and pleas they position her body, holding her just above the silvery grains before forcing her to sit down right on the top of the mound. Leather ties are lashed tightly round her ankles as the two warriors stretch her legs achingly wide to secure them to the two furthest bamboo stakes
The one holding the womans arms keeps calling instructionsUntil he is satisfied that she has been placed exactly on the summit of the mound, her legs held far apart by the cruel rawhide thongs.
Now the men work quickly, moving up each leg to tie her knees down against two more stakes, these ones driven so far into the sand that they are all but hidden. Salah watches the preparations intently; his eyes alight with hot excitement.
After all, she must be properly secured the ankle ties to hold her open, the knee ties to stop her lifting or moving her body from what must come. Their tasks done the guards look up, Salah nods and they move away. It is womens work now, for it is they who know how best to open the victims tenderest flesh for the attentions of the vicious red ants in the nest she now straddles.
The leather strips bite deep into the womans flesh above each kneecap, clamping her splayed legs flat against the hot dry sand of the nest. She is whimpering and crying now, rocking slightly as she flexes the muscles of her buttocks, trying to clench and close her bottom cheeks in some vain hope of protecting at least a small part of her most delicate flesh from the torture to come.
Her movements are quite in vain for Salahs two wives are expert in this work. The woman too knows their cruel skills only too well. After all, they are the ones who forced her to climax time after unbearable time through the long, hot night. Newly washed and groomed for the show, shining with palm oil and fragrant with forest herbs the wives gleam and glisten as they begin. The younger one cuts the womans wrist tie. Immediately, she starts trying to scoop the hot sand away from the wet, sticky lips of her cunt and the soft vulnerable flesh of her vagina. The two wives only wait and watchthey know what will happen next.
СSilly, so silly but then, they always do that, Salah murmurs to his guards. СIt only makes things worse The womans movements suddenly change and she begins to beat wildly at the sand between her thighs. The villagers laugh because they can see more and more of the hurrying reddish insects appearing, swarming out as all the womans frantic efforts simply disturbs the nest still further.
The wives wait until the woman is hitting her own skin in an effort to dislodge the insects. As she feels the first stinging bites burning the tender flesh of her inner thighs, with exquisite cruelty, they catch the flailing wrists. Each of them slips a soft rawhide loop into position before pulling her arms straight, forcing her body down until her wrists can be tied to the same stakes that hold her ankles.
As she is bent forwards, the womans buttocks are gradually spread wider and wider apart. As the wives know from other victims who have been forced to ride the mounds before. this position ensures that the whole open length of the womans cunt, as well as the crinkled rosette of her anus, will be pressed against the newly disturbed surface of the anthill.
Bent double, the woman finally lifts her head, looking despairingly at Salah, and the hot, cruel faces of the people enjoying her torture. She screams out at them in a final desperate appeal.
СP-p-please, Aaaah, theyre biting me inside, ARRRRGH! It hurts so much; please I cant take any more Ah, ah, Aaaahhh!
Salah turns to the chief of his bodyguard, the man who found the traitor, as they both enjoy the womans growing agony. СPerhaps she should have thought of that before she accepted the money. He smiles as one of his wives moves close to the womans pinioned body СAh, I expected that Mai Wah would want to help her a little more That one will need to slake her own heat before long but such exquisite cruelty in one so young.
As he speaks, his younger wife kneels down, calmly resting one hand on the womans arched back and reaching in between her thighs with the other to fondle her sore and aching cunt. She whispers in the womans ear as she works, ignoring all the piteous screams and gabbled pleas for mercy, occasionally wetting her own fingers as she slides them in and out between the sore, swollen lips.
Bent so far forwards, the womans heavy breasts swing freely, the dangling peaks just grazing the surface of the mound with each twist and turn of her body. Despite her frantic efforts, one or two red shapes have already found a grip on the nipples themselves.
СNo! NO, NO! Noooooo dont, please dont, IIIIEEEEEEEEHH!
The final peal of screams are wrenched from the woman as Mai Wah deliberately digs her hand into the mound of sand before raking gritty fingers to and fro along the moist wet valley of her victims cunt.
After a minute of so of applying the torturing friction of the sand to the womans exposed sex, Mai Wah kneels up. Then, instead of moving away, she moves until she can straddle her victims curved back, arms reaching down and round so her hands can fondle the full globes of her victims breasts. She pauses; licking her fingers before teasing and rolling each tender peak until it is thick and rigid and glistening with Mai Wahs moisture.
After looking across for approval she presses down, very slowly. She bends the womans body even more until she can brush each wet, jutting nipple into the sandy soil of the nest, coating the tips so that each scraping movement allows more and more of the angry insects to sink their jaws into the nerve-rich stubs.
Within a few moments, the woman is screaming in even greater agony as yet more ants swarm across the naked bulge of her mound; biting and stinging as they scurry between her legs into the warm, wet openings of her cunt.
Content with her devilish work at last, Mai Wah brushes stray ants from her hands as they crawl up the soft curves of the womans breasts. She sits up, riding the womans back, pressing her own wetness against the constantly moving and twisting muscles beneath her. Now the young sadist is intent on using the womans torture for her own pleasure.
The womans agony continues, the noises becoming shriller and shriller, and the demented flexing and wriggling of her breasts and buttocks becomes wilder as the insects burrow deeper. The agonising pain of the venom forces wrenching muscular spasms from her tortured body but the frantic movements only serves to increase the ferocity of their attacks and the depth of Mai Wahs own arousal
Salahs smile broadens as his senior wife; Lei Lin joins in the game. Careful to avoid the activity at the crest of the mound she stands close behind the straddled figure of Mai Wah. Her long nails rake up and down her sister-wifes back, forcing the younger one to arch in delight so her small, sharp breasts stand out like spikes. Lei Lins fingers follow a familiar trail, caressing soft, olive skin until each hand cups a little fleshy cone.
The woman screams and writhes madly as the ants bring fresh agony with each stinging touch. Salah smiles more broadly, enjoying the sight and the growling approval of the show from the crowd. He knows from her expression and movements that Mai Wah is nearing her peak.
Lei Lins expert fingers are busy milking the sharp black nipples; nipples that she knows are particularly sensitive. Countless times she has worked Mai Wah to a climax in this way as her sister-wife sits impaled on Salahs long thick penis in the darkness of the sleeping hut. She knows that the pleasures will be returned tonight. Returned in full when she sits on Mai Wahs face so that her tongue can work its magic. Lei Lin shivers as she imagines the double pleasure that awaits. Salah behind her, slowly sliding the hot wet shaft of his manhood deep inside her anus while beneath her, Mei Wahs busy tongue laps her into frenzy after frenzy.
Mai Wahs orgasm is a quick, shuddering spasm. Her knees grip the womans back like iron bands although her short panting screams of pleasure are lost in the louder cries of anguish. She is still for a moment, then Lei Lin helps her to stand as they both brush stray insects from their sandy skin.
As they walk hand in hand towards Salah, the womans screams rise to a new peak of agony behind them. With Mai Wahs weight gone, she has suddenly been able to move a little, exposing new flesh to the pitiless jaws. Within a few minutes, the womans groin and breasts are carpeted with a red, wriggling mass of ants, their biting jaws flaying the skin from her most sensitive tissues whilst the pain drives her towards the brink of screaming madness.
Salah looks up to the sky. СLeave her until the shadows touch her body. If she lives, see to her wounds then banish her. If not put her in the river, the piranha can finish what is left
Salah has spoken. It is done. He leads the villagers and warriors back to the huts among the trees.
Behind them the shadows move slowly across the ground and the splayed, bent figure continues to scream and twist in the sunlight.

[vladdt]

Here is "The Nest" as provided by theelectrician:

Mmm! Torture by ants! Excellent story! Especially those two nice girls! I have something like this in mine for my wife.

I will try to continue mine:

After another hour of hard forest road, the jeep finally reaches a large clearing in the jungle. I see a dozen of bamboo huts standing in a semicircle. The trampled dirt in front of them obviously acts as a central square. There is a place for a big fire. There is nothing else noteworthy in the village.
We are immediately surrounded by an excited crowd of local residents. Among them are several rather muscular men. Obviously warriors. However, most of the locals are women and children. Our driver was right when he said that their population was thinned out by the troops. Women are not as ugly as I thought. They're all tattooed, but no one ruins their face with stupid African trinkets. The children are naked, even fully developed girls. And women cover their hips with woven skirts. Their breasts are not covered with anything.
Finally the crowd is parted by an old man. He's the only one wearing frayed shorts. And he is the only one who speaks English. This is the local leader, and we have already met him at the city bazaar.
- Guests! Guests! - He opens his arms, and we rub noses with him. The residents are making noises of surprise, but obviously they already knew about our arrival. The driver, seeing such a reception, also relaxes.
We unload our belongings, equipment and gifts. According to the agreement, the driver should pick us up in exactly a week. However, he still shakes his head in surprise, turning the car around. We follow the leader to his hut.

How wealthy the old man is by the standards of his tribe is shown by the old radio standing on the shelf. We sit down on mats in front of a simple fireplace in the middle of the hut and begin to talk. Some young girl, cute in an exotic way, brings us dishes with some local food.
The conversation continues from the moment it left off in the city market. We are promised to make a film and we came after all. The old man is happy, he is already looking forward to big earnings. His greed greatly reassures me. And I am also pleased with the glances he casts at my wife’s bare legs.
For some time he tells us his folklore, about how his tribe, once powerful and great, is now forced to live only in one village. However, not forgetting the lessons of the past, he passes over in silence those cruelties for which they were almost destroyed.
On the contrary, we turn the conversation to the dark past of this tribe. Especially Kiri. She is sincerely interested in the cruelties and details of the rituals, and the old man start talking. Not he, of course, but his bad predecessor, yes, subjected the prisoners to ritual tortures. Kiri, who is sitting cross-legged so that the strap of her shorts is cutting into her pussy and her breasts are almost falling out of her shirt, asks for juicy details. These details are very interesting. The savages turn out to be are not primitive cannibals. While robbing neighboring tribes, they captured both men and women. They simply tortured the men and then ate them. To “test their masculinity and adopt it through eating.” But they tormented women with a completely different interest. The conversational leader quickly left the topic of men aside. As far as I understand, they are cruel tortured man but not long. Reluctantly, after another impulse of eroticism from my wife, and gift of vodka, he admits that those who survived the tortures were roasted alive over the fire.

Above the one in the middle of this same square? Ooooh! Excited, Kiri began to ask for details. How exactly were the victims prepared? Naked? Were they impaled or tied to a stick? Did they rub them with anything before frying? It turned out that they were tied to a long pole, and in this form they were hung over the fire. How exactly? At this moment, my wife stood up and began to assume the pose of a victim. Like this, standing at attention? No, it turned out that the hands were tied behind the back, and the entire victim was tied with ropes so that she would not struggle too much and can't get free. They fried her for a long time, over low heat, and for some time she was staying alive. First, the breasts were fried, and this most valuable part of the body was cut off and given to the leader and those close to him. Then the rest of the body was cooked. It turns out that busty captives were especially valued.

It turns out that the victims usually did not live until the moment when the breast was ready. The old man shook his head sadly. Then we suddenly sobered up and sat down again. Kiri straightened her tangled shirt and smiled promisingly at the leader.
But he said with outright sadness that the old days were gone. And their tribe is already a peaceful people, and no longer engages in cannibalism, and does not make sacrifices. But we were still interested in the details. The old man was no longer shy, and told the terrible story of the tribe with obvious pleasure. As it turned out, the longer the victim lived, and the more torture she was able to endure, the better. Some were tortured for many days. Their strange god loves pain and pleasure of the victims. The women they captured became sexual playthings for the entire village. They were wildly tortured and tormented, so that at the very end - the woman ended her life over the fire. Sometimes, the captive died under torture, but this was considered as a bad sign. It was considered honorable if the victim suffered for many days, but remained sexually attractive, and survived alive until the fire. Her death ended in a big celebration, and the whole village feasted on her body. During these stories, Kiri spread and closed her legs, and the leader, without hiding at all, stared at her crotch.

As it turned out, young and beautiful girls were in particular demand. The more resilient the better. Sometimes, having heard about a beauty from another tribe, a group of warriors set off on a long journey. Only with the goal of kidnapping the beauty and torturing her. A group of young men could hide near an enemy village for many days in order to waylay a careless beauty. The old man clearly knew all this firsthand, because he proudly listed the details. The names of warriors, captives, the villages from which they were abducted, and how many days they endured tortures. Some girls were tortured for weeks.

Torture was of particular interest to us and it turned out that they had no shortage of imagination. Captives were burned, beaten, stretched, had their arms twisted, hung, had their skin cut, and much more. At the place where the old man described the torture of a woman’s breast with smoldering branches from the fire, my wife could not stand it, jumped to her feet and opened her shirt. The sight of her bare white breasts put the leader into a stupor. But I, going up to my wife standing in front of the leader, took her shirt off her shoulders and put her hands behind her back. After which, Kiri, innocently batting her eyelashes, as if nothing had happened, asked questions about the details of the torture. Encouraged by my inviting gesture, the leader began to run his finger over my wife’s breasts. Showing the places where the hot coals should be applied to her skin. Kiri asked questions that drove the leader crazy. It was no longer about an abstract sacrifice. My wife asked how exactly she should be tied for this torture? Should she be completely naked, or will only her breasts will be burned? As it turned out, the victim should be naked, but mainly due to the lack of clothing among the savages. For this torture, she was tightly screwed with leather straps to the torture post. The arms were raised in the air to “get the tits up,” as the leader put it. After that, I let go of Kiri’s hands, and she quickly took off the remaining clothes. Stretching up, in all her naked glory, she asked the leader if her tits were raised enough? And is her small firm tit are suitable for this torture? Seeing my wife's erect nipples and smelling her leaking pussy, the leader looked at me in confusion. I nodded, and Kiri knelt down, submissively crossing her hands behind her back. Looking pleadingly at the leader from below, she asked if he wanted to use her body as a gift?

[vladdt]