The Curse of Kunamira Island Ch. 06

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Cassandra’s eyes slowly drifted open, and her vision was flooded by unbearable sunlight. She squinted and tried to bring her arms up to shield her eyes, but neither arm would move. She turned her head away from the sun and opened her eyes again.

Around her were slumped the bodies of her friends and a hoard of the savages who had fucked them until they had passed out from exhaustion. How many orgasms had she had? She had lost count, but it must have been more than she had ever had in a week! She saw Isabella lay at the base of the strange and grotesque altar, pinned underneath a heavily tattooed savage who had passed out on top of her. At least Isabella’s hands had come unstuck from the altar, but she seemed to be covered in a web of the sticky goo now.

She heard a few soft moans, as if a few of the others were waking up as well. She tried to get up, but couldn’t move. She looked down at herself and saw the same thing had happened to her: tendrils of the black goo had crept all over her body like vines. She tried to move her arms again, but the black slime held them tightly to her sides. Strands of the black slime stretched out as she tried to fight against it, but the goo only stretched a few short inches before her arms snapped back to her sides. She tried to move her legs, but found a similar problem.

“Fuck…” she cursed, weakly, and laid her head back down on the rocky ground. Her entire front burned. There was no telling how long her naked body had been exposed to the sun.

She made a few more attempt to free herself, but it was all in vain. As she thrashed around, her eyes caught movement. The dark, tattooed woman who had passed out on top of Isabella was starting to stir. She had appeared to be the leader of the savages, or at least in charge of the group that had pursued them up the mountain. As the chieftain rose, strands of the goo pulled her back toward Isabella. But when she muttered a few words to the altar in that ugly, guttural language of theirs, the strands of goo dissolved away, setting her free.

She could command the goo with her voice?

Once the woman was on her feet, she stood up tall to assess the situation around her, which finally gave Cassandra a good look at her. This woman was tall and muscular, even among the women of Kunamira. She had dark skin like Soa’s, which suggested she was one of the original natives of the island. She appeared older than most of the women here; a few lines on her face might have put her in her mid-thirties. Her hair was long and unkempt. A thick, bushy mess of it hung halfway down her back. These savages appeared to put little care into day-to-day upkeep. Her tattoos, however, were another matter. They were incredibly detailed, and covered more than half her body, which was considerably more than the other savages had. Intricate swirls seemed to accentuate any sexual feature: her vagina, breasts, and butt, the contours of her muscles, even her belly button. She had generously plump breasts, even larger than Casandra’s, which were sporting absolutely saucer-sized areolas, with small, pea-sized nipples in their centers.

The woman shouted a command at her subordinates, which was met with several exhausted groans of protest. Despite their reluctance, a few of them began to stumble to their feet, or at least those of them that could. That demon must have sucked every drop of energy out of them, because even the few who were awake enough to hear their leader could barely stand. A couple of them tried to get up but found themselves still stuck in the goo. One of the girls, who had passed out on her stomach found her nipples were stuck to the ground, and as she tried to push herself up, her boobs and nipples as well as two thick strands of goo stretched out, eventually pulling her back to the ground. Another, who had passed out on top of another of the savages, found her cheek was stuck to the still unconscious woman’s breast.

Cassandra struggled to get up again, but her arms and legs were perfectly bound by the black ooze, and all she succeeded in doing was to get the attention of the chieftain. The woman spoke a few words to her. Though she understood none of the words, the tone was commanding and insulting. Instinctively, Cassandra opened her mouth to tell the bitch where her place was, but the words caught in her throat. Her big, powerful boyfriend was nowhere near, so there was nobody to back her up if she threw a tantrum. Without him, her angry words were just angry words, as she had finally been forced to realize over the past couple of days. She looked to Isabella and Soa, but they wouldn’t be much help to her either. Soa was still comatose, Isabella was barely stirring, and both of them were bound at least as tightly as her. Her eyes returned to the chieftain, who was still glaring at her. Her usual fallback plan in the rare cases where anger didn’t work was to break down in tears, but even tears weren’t coming to her this time. Cassandra could only stare back in fear and humiliation.

The chieftain repeated her command, escort bursa but when Cassandra only continued to stare blankly, she waved her hand dismissively and returned her attention to her tribeswomen. She shouted again, and a handful of women finally stood up. Several of them looked ready to collapse at any moment. A few of them struggled to pull themselves unstuck from each other, and there were some audible snaps as a few strands of goo broke free, appeased and softened by the recent orgy.

The chieftain turned at last to the altar behind her, and it was like she became a different person. She held her hands toward it in awe, bowed, and the words that came from her mouth sounded ecstatic, almost beside herself with uncontrollable joy!

She paused for a few moments, as if listening intently. Though the altar had made no response that Cassandra could hear, the woman’s posture suddenly sank, as if burdened with an unbearable sorrow. She opened her mouth and let out a mournful wail as she sunk to her knees, then seemed to plead for her life. After another short pause, her words were excited again, as she vigorously nodded her head like a giddy child.

It was unnerving to see this woman change from one extreme emotion to the other as she held her one-sided conversation with a stone statue. In any other circumstances, Cassandra would have thought the chieftain was a madwoman. But after what had happened there on the mountain that day, maybe the statue really was speaking to her.

When her seemingly demented conversation with a rock was finally over, the woman nodded her head sharply with something like “Ta’la!” Perhaps she had acknowledged a command. The chieftain… or was ‘priestess’ a better word… turned her head and looked at the half-empty bottle of isopropyl alcohol still sitting on the altar where Isabella had left it, uncapped. She reached for it, but hesitated as if terrified of it. After taking a deep breath, she darted for it and, as quickly as possible, threw the bottle as far as she could. It clattered down the rocky slope, spilling its contents with each bounce, until if fell out of sight. Cassandra felt that her hopes had taken a similar path.

By now, others were waking up. Soa was awake and had managed to sit up. Isabella was still on the ground, though her eyes were open and at least alert. Two of the natives were riffling through Isabella’s bag of tricks, sorting through all the alien contraptions, looking more confused than awestruck. Meanwhile, the high priestess, as Cassandra now thought of her, was working on rousing the rest of the women and helping free them from the blackness. It took a few minutes, but soon each of them was back on their feet, though several of them appeared barely aware of their surroundings. The women then helped each of the prisoners back up to their feet and stood them in a row while the priestess gazed upon them, disapprovingly. When she stopped in front of Soa, her eyes narrowed.

“Mauataka!!!” Soa spat with palpable contempt.

“Soa,” was her only reply.

“Do you two know each… OWWW! FUCKING CUNT!” Cassandra began, before she was slapped by one of the savages.

“Later,” Soa whispered, and was slapped as well.

The priestess barked an order, and the crazed natives made a few awkward attempts to carry the prisoners down the slope, but they were still too drained from the orgy and barely able to carry their own weight, let alone that of another woman. After Cassandra had been dropped no less than two times, the priestess spoke to the shrine again, with exaggerated inflections and gestures. In seconds, the black too binding their legs loosened somewhat, allowing them to walk, though their arms remained firmly affixed at their sides.

“She can command the blackness!” Isabella whispered.

“Shh, be quiet,” Soa whispered back.

The women began to lead the three prisoners on the arduous journey back down the mountain. Progress was slow. The three prisoners entertained few thoughts of trying to escape. Not only were they unsure if they could make it down the mountain alone in their state, but the native women marching them down the mountain had their hands glued to them with the black goo.

As they marched, Cassandra made a few attempts to talk to Soa, or to complain about her treatment. At first, the women silenced her whenever she spoke up, though rather unenthusiastically. But soon, they had gotten used to her semi-regular blabbering and began ignoring her.

“Who is that woman?” she asked Soa.

When there was no reply, she asked again. “Soa? Who’s that woman who seems to be their boss? What is she, a priestess or witch doctor or something? What did you call her, Mali… Maui… something?”

Once it was clear Cassandra wasn’t going to be punished for talking, Soa dared to give a response.

“Her name is Mauataka.”

But at the mention of her name, Mauataka looked behind her and issued a sharp warning to Soa. After a minute, Soa continued on, avoiding using her name or any words of their native görükle escort tongue that might get her attention.

“Yes, she is the leader of the sex-crazed. Why, what did you want to know about her?”

“Like, what’s her deal? How come she’s in charge?”

“I know very little about the woman she is now. It seems she can speak to the Spirit of Kunamira. Even I did not know this before today. This is not good.”

“How can she do that? What does it mean that she can?”

“I am sorry, I do not know the answers to these questions!”

Then Isabella spoke. “Well, you know anything about the woman she used to be?”

“I do. I knew her before the coming of the blackness. She was… well, she made enemies in the old village. Some did not trust her. They say she wanted to be the Chieftain’s bride, fought bitterly for it, though everyone knew he had already chosen a woman: the woman who is our Matriarch now. The Chieftain rejected Mauataka’s love, and she grew bitter. Most were angry at her for her ambition, but she had some friends, and she found other ways to gain power. I don’t remember much; I was very young then, but my mother and father warned me not to trust her.”

“Sounds like politics to me!” Cassandra commented.

“But she did marry a man soon after. In fact, it was the man who led the party up the mountain after the landslide. He was probably the first to see the shrine, and she would have been the last to see him on the night of the vanishing. At first, we thought she had disappeared, too, along with all the men, children, and elder women, because she was nowhere to be found. It wasn’t until days after the vanishing that my villagers found her in the woods, stark naked, and screaming like an animal! She was the first of the sex-crazed. They tried to capture her to bring her back home, but she ran up the mountain, where all of us were by then afraid to go.”

“What was she saying to the stone face? Did you hear any of that?” Cassandra asked.

“Not much. She begged its forgiveness for something. I think for attempting to join with Isabella without its permission.”

“You mean when she tried to stick her nipples to mine? You say that’s permanent, no?”

“Yes, that. I don’t know why the spirit has forbidden these women from permanently joining with you, but I am glad for it. And then she asked the spirit why he had not entered out minds taken our free will from us.”

“I was wondering that, too. I thought for sure we’d be crazy-loco like them when we woke up. Why not?”

“I do not know, Isabella. If the spirit answered any of her questions, I could not hear. But I whatever that reason may be, Mau… I mean the chieftain’s last order to the women was to take us to their village to deal with that very problem… to soften us for her.”

“For HER? Who’s her?” Cassandra asked?

“The Spirit of Kunamira, of course.”

“I thought the spirit was a ‘he.'”

“That was the chieftain said. She speaks of the spirit as a woman. Remember, to us, the concept of ‘he’ is almost alien now. Maybe the sex-crazed have forgotten the word.”

“Does a spirit with no human body even have a gender?” Isabella asked.

“Both of you ask many questions I cannot answer.”

Hours later, they crawled into the wildwomen’s village. The village was primitive compared to the Kunamira village. There was no wall or any fortifications to protect the village from animals or attackers. The huts were thrown together with sticks and straw, and looked good for little more than shade. There was no organization to the village; the huts were built haphazardly wherever there was space. There were a few simple firepits, all of which had bones and fruit rinds thrown around them, some of them buzzing with flies. There was no matriarchal great hall, no central bonfire or place of gathering, no craftsmen’s quarter, no fortifications or lookouts. Everything was simply functional, without a thought to aesthetics, artisanship, or even comfort.

The people themselves were an even sadder sight. Many of them were engaged in debaucherous orgies like in the Kunamira village, but there was something very different about it. It was animalistic, as if the women were fucking simply because they had to, like addicts who had forgotten the pleasure it once gave them. There were no caresses, no kisses, no words, no eye contact: each women seemed concerned only with her own needs, giving no thought to her partner’s pleasure.

Meanwhile, other women napped the evening away in random locations, some of them directly on the ground. Another woman sat by herself at a firepit, devouring a barely cooked rabbit whole. Her face was covered blood and grease as she simply peeled the skin back and ate the flesh right off the carcass.

But perhaps most disturbing of all, several of them seemed to have nothing to do at all. Not hungry, lustful, or sleepy, these women simply sat where they were and stared at the ground or up at the sky. They did not talk, they did not play or sing, bursa escort bayan nor did they take the free time to improve their meager village. With no immediate needs to satisfy, they merely existed, like some critical human quality had been taken from them.

But as their captors let them onward through the village, they came to a shrine of sorts. It was the only area of the village that showed any tendency toward art or culture. There was a large wall of stretched out animal skins, held up by poles and rope. On the skins was painted a tapestry with designs of a similar style as some of their tattoos. The designs were simplistic and rudimentary, but showed some level of skill. But unlike their tattoos, the tapestry featured several copies of an animal head, likely representing the grotesque from the altar on top of the mountain. At the center of the mural, one of these demon heads sat atop a humanoid body, though with animalistic features like claws. Did this thing have a body after all? There was a disturbing thought!

Mauataka gave an order, and the women dragged the tree captives over to the nearest tree. They forced them into a sitting position on the ground with their backs to the tree, all in a circle. They tried to move, but the black slime coating their arms had already bound them together shoulder to shoulder, and their backs seemed to be sticking to the tree. Their captors spread their legs until each thigh was touching the thigh of her neighbor, and the goo bound them like that instantly, unable to close their legs. The women tried to back up. Strands of the sticky goo stretched out from their hands, trying to pull them back into their prisoners. Mauataka gave a command, but the goo only seemed to weaken slightly, as if her control of the blackness wasn’t so strong farther away from the shrine. They pulled back, and the goo stretched foot after foot, until the tendrils finally began to snap one by one, once they had put up enough of a struggle.

Soa, Cassandra, and Isabella tried to struggle as well, but the goo connecting them together was still at full strength. None of them could pull themselves more than a foot or two from the tree before they were snapped back into it.

Once the last of the sex-crazed had broken free, their leader gave several more commands. The women who had led them down the mountain, completely exhausted from their ordeal, wandered off to rest, while several women from the village gathered around to replace them. Mauataka looked like she needed a rest as well, but she remained, and gave the newcomers their instructions.

“What’s she saying to them?” Cassandra whispered, sounding scared.

“She has commanded them to soften our minds until the Spirit of Kunamira can take us. They will soften us by filling us with unanswered desires. I don’t plan to let them succeed.”

“But this could be good news, no?” Isabella observed. “That’s why he no possess us up on the mountain. He couldn’t because we too strong for him! Maybe if we fight, we can keep him out!”

“How’s that good news?” Cassandra spat. “It just means he’s so angry at us he’s going to put extra effort into it until he succeeds!”

“Not angry, Cassandra: afraid of us!” Isabella corrected her. “He throwing everything he has at us, and he still can’t defeat us. If we can just fight… if we can only manage to get out of this…”

But Isabella never finished that thought. By now, their chieftain had finished giving her women their orders. All eyes were on the three prisoners now. They approached them, knelt down, and began to caress them sensuously.

“What… what… what are you doing?” Cassandra complained. She struggled to move, but her arms were firmly affixed at her sides.

The one in front of her caressed her inner thigh, and Cassandra gasped with pleasure. Her struggling lessened as she felt herself temped to just go along with it. Another woman began kissing her up and down her body, avoiding the patches of goo so far. This second one was as fair skinned as her, most likely someone who had been stranded on the island as well.

One of the women who approached Soa seemed intrigued by her extraordinarily long nipples. Ignoring the dangers of the goo, the placed her fingers right on the tips of her nipples, which instantly bonded them together with the black ooze dripping out of them. She pulled back, which stretched out tendrils of the goo one or two feet long. Soa gasped as the woman tugged on her nipples.

For Isabella, one of the women caressed her calf and ankle between both hands, and then massaged her foot. She slowly brought Isabella’s foot up to her mouth and gently licked her toes.

“Ugh, gross! Stop it!” she complained, disgusted, and pulled her foot away.

The woman made another grab for it, but was stopped by a commanding word from Mauataka. The woman gave a quick reply and began licking farther up her leg, slowly making her way toward her groin. Isabella wanted to protest, but these sensations were so strong! It was like her skin’s ability to feel pleasure had been amplified by a hundred! The effect of the blackness must have been even stronger than before. Without even meaning to, a loud sigh escaped her lips, betraying the fact that the savage woman had found one of her zones.

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