Miras
Tribune
Falcon's wing held his hand raised with more strength than he gave to his tired legs. Although it was his most regarded honor to hunt, the people of his tribe chose him for something even more sacred tonight. He held a torch, whose flaming eye watched over the safety of the huts, strengthening the senses of the skilled warrior and deterring the beasts from whose ranks came hunters similar to those of humans.
He knew that the sun would not rise for a long time. He pulled up his fur and brought the torch closer to his face. "You look bored," a voice from behind said to him, belonging to a figure leaning against one of the old-timer trees, guardians of family lines. Not only by the voice but also by the outlines of the muscles, one could recognize the Hiding in the mammoth shadow. They have been blood-no-blood since he married his daughter, Striped Kitten.
"Perhaps you would like to hear a story," Hiding suggested. "How about the greatest classic – The Boy Who Stroke Fire from Wood?"
"No one has to hear that more than twice," Falcon's wing replied, walking towards the forest's edge. His blood-no-blood joined him.
"Perhaps our most interesting then – The Woman Who Solved the Mystery of the Conception?"
Falcon's wing sighed. "It's too long, and it kinda sucks at the end."
"Then I could tell you a story taking place in my hut just before sunset."
Falcon's wing noticed the bitterness in Hiding's voice and stopped. "I haven't heard anything from you," he said.
"Look at my face," Hiding asked him. The light of the flames revealed his round face, disfigured by yellow and blue trails and even a trickle of blood.
"We remained silent, but she put all the more force into her fists." He whispered, perhaps out of consideration or due to a long-married life.
"Did yours – My daughter do that to you?"
Hiding spat out. "Kitten refuses to get pregnant. She keeps reminding me of how it killed her mother, and even the babe didn't survive. She wants me to love her only to her back cave, and when I want to go somewhere else, she beats me."
Falcon's wing understood his woes. According to custom, only an adult woman could beat another, but she could beat a man, even her husband. If it were otherwise, even a Visions Lady would have less authority.
"People will say that the spirit of death is watching over me and not the spirit of life. Maybe they'll forbid me to hunt! And it's all about my seed ending up in my wife's ass!"
"I'll go with you," Falcon's wing tried to reassure him. Just allow me to enter after the dawn."
The uninjured part of the Hiding's face testified to gratitude and trust, but the man held on to the torch-bearer as if he had been an exile without a home. Falcon's wing ignored him, only watching the sky.
As soon as it was evident, even through the clouds, that the world was getting brighter under the sun and the voices of people signified their awakening, Falcon's wing sang a short song and added the torch to the flames of the grandiose fireplace in the middle of the village.
Almost in response to his song, the ritual incantations of women resounded in the huts, among which he recognized his daughter's voice.
Hiding preceded him and allowed him to cross the threshold. Striped Kitten stood by the bed, completely naked and with long, loose black hair, resembling the Mother of Ravens herself. She ignored her husband and father but turned in a circle defined by laid birch rods.
She had just finished her singing spell. "I thank the moon and the stars for magic and dreams, but the time of warmth and life has come." She calmed down to the exit and only then took note of the man in her dwelling. "Hello, Dad. I hope you made it through the night just fine. Would you like to rest here?"
Falcon's wing frowned and pointed to his blood-no blood face. "I heard about your problems. I'm sorry you're afraid, but your husband has the right to a child, as does the whole tribe. You are a hypocrite, if you do not give up love for this. You just let it go elsewhere."
Striped Kitten collected rods. "If it were to bring me death, the tribe would lose me. If a child dies, it would be a total loss."
"Then don't make love. The purpose of it is to open the gate between spirits and people, no matter how it turns out."
"No, it's a celebration of life. My life!" Striped Kitten stomped and flared her nostrils, the color of the woman's face being reminiscent of war paintings.
Falcon's wing began to lose patience with her. "I think there's too much childish naughtiness in you," her father said, pointing to the collected rods. "And we both know how mom used to treat that illness."
Fear appeared in her pool-like eyes, fueled by memories of how she screamed and threw her legs, how her mother sparked a heat on her ass that our fireplace could not match. Whoever saw the act appreciated her upbringing and even lent the strčit woman his son or daughter for punishment, appreciating her vigorous swing, trained in throwing a javelin.
"I'm not a child anymore," said Striped Kitten.
Falcon's wing saw it differently. "It is said that a woman matures twice. When she can have children and when she has them. The second thing hasn't happened yet."
"Even I haven't beat her," Hiding said uncertainly.
"She's my daughter, and we should do something about the bottom she's so proud of!"
Falcon's wing squeezed Kitten's wrist. She couldn't overcome his grip, no matter how big she was. Her father ripped out the bundle of rods from her and forced her to bend more and arch her naked, rebellious behind.
A long flick sounded through the hut, and the tips of the rods touched the rounded buttocks. Kitten put a free hand in her mouth so as not to embarrass herself, which pleased her father. He only managed to conjure up a few abrasions with the first blow, but he hit her across both buttocks with the second. The girl tried to straighten up but only earned two blows, this time to the back. Falcon's wing began to whip her with full force. He didn't want his daughter to bleed because it might attract the vile spirits, but he wanted Striped Kitten to remember that and not use her ass for things the gods didn't make it to do. That's why he focused there, not on her back, although he didn't spare it either. Two visible hits on the buttocks became five, and from five, he jumped to sixteen. The welts on that bottom began to resemble the refined drawings that her great-grandfathers and great-grandmothers had painted on the stone walls of caves.
Falcon's wing managed to tame her tossing, and the rods hit their target each time. He was willing to go up to fifty strokes, but he was supposed to believe in bad omens. A brisk flick cut through the sensitive skin, and blood appeared on his daughter's buttocks for the first time. At that moment, she slipped away from him and, completely ignoring her nakedness, ran outside. In addition to her body, the awakening villagers could also be attracted by her screams, which were otherwise only characteristic of the prey.
To humans, this must have felt like some attack on the tribe's foundation, and that was probably what Kitten was hoping for, as she soon stood as close to the fireplace as possible to be lit by the flames. Unexpectedly, the villagers formed the first council of this Luna, from the youngest listeners to the venerable elders.
However, two people whose saying was always the finale took the lead – the burly Chief Warthead and Deep Eye, the Visions Lady. The chief was wearing so much fur that bears should have bowed down to him, but the Visions Lady was naked, as were Kitten and several other women in the crowd. She had already given birth to three living children, and as a sign of this blessing, she had red and yellow cords hanging on her labia.
She was the first to demand an explanation of what had happened, though the scars of the Kitty suggested a lot.
Falcon's wing took a few long steps towards the fireplace and took the floor. "Maybe I've crossed the line, but my daughter has opposed making our tribe bigger. I had to remind her that some customs are more important than others."
"I thought I was the only one who could compare the importance of customs," Warthead said. "Explain quickly how this abomination happened!" He spoke aloud if only to drown out the excited murmurs of the people for whom he was half a god.
Hiding was about to open his mouth, but Falcon's wing struck him in the back, and took charge of the explanation himself. He described what had happened between his daughter and her husband, how she stubbornly rejected bearing a child, and why he decided it was necessary to treat her as if she were still a little girl.
Many were amused, but according to the discussion of angry voices, it seemed that different opinions arose in the crowd, and no one wanted to change them. At that moment, the leaders asserted themselves again.
"The ban on beating women by men must always apply and its violation must not be left without a deterrent example," Deep Eye pointed out. "However, Falcon's wing is right that Striped Kitten behaved irresponsibly." The reprimanded girl showed a face that had last been seen on her when her boyfriend cunningly recommended a sour fruit. Visions Lady approached her and ran her finger over her buttocks. "I think I'll take on the role of your mother and spank you every morning from now on until your husband is completely happy with you."
Kitten couldn't resist her will, but you could see in her clenched fists that she hated the woman in front of her and would mark her somewhere else than on her ass.
Deep Eye looked into the face of Falcon's wing. "I hope you understand that I must punish you, too."
"What I did served its purpose," the father said proudly.
"All right. So let's go into the forest, and you will get ten lashes on your back."
Falcon's wing blinked. "Ten lashes? With what?"
"The whip. I use it for my joy and spiritual experiences."
The burly hunter didn't mind the whipping as much as everyone hearing about it. On the other hand, where else should the verdict be announced than in the council?
He stood motionless as the leaders moved away and then returned. Warthead's manly hands threatened him with the rope, while Deep Eye's delicate fingers gripped a long loop designed to deliver pain.
"We will go, and your daughter too, so that she can see that you suffer as she did!"
Falcon's wing wouldn't bear the pressure of another warrior, but he meekly surrendered to the lead as the Visions Lady gripped his hand and pulled him along. He was tired from a sleepless night, and a little pain would do a man good to maintain his vigilance. Not to mention, he wasn't uncomfortable looking at the Visions Lady's breasts and behind, either.
"Take your clothes off," Deep Eye commanded as they moved out of sight and earshot of the crowd and into a cluster of stout, verdant trees. He reluctantly obeyed and pressed himself against one of the trunks. The chief tied a rope around his waist and made a tight knot at the other end.
Falcon's wing felt a pressure on his cock that might otherwise have been pleasurable. However, he decided that he would adapt to the circumstances. He looked back and tried to capture as much as possible of the frontal side of the naked Deep Eye, which retained graceful curves so that the absence of clothes suited her. He looked at her nipples and felt like squeezing them between his fingers like a man pulling an arrow out of a cowed animal. Cock had hardened now and was rubbing against the bark of the tree. Falcon's wing wondered if this would affect the perception of pain.
The Visions Lady spread her arms and swung her whip after a short chant of praise to the gods and spirits. The leather came off the ground and hit the hunter just above the rump.
"UUUMMMHHHH." He bit his lip so hard that his whole head shook. At first, he was just startled by the cut skin, but above all he could not get rid of the unbearable burning on the small of his back, which did not stop, rather it got worse. He suspected that blood would be dripping down his buttocks before long.
Visions Lady gave him a second stroke, this time close to the shoulders.
"AAAAAAHHH!"
He had to scream at least a little to relieve the pain. He was beginning to doubt that his sanity would survive the eight remaining wounds.
For the third time, the whip bit into the flesh between the two burning points. Falcon's wing screamed even louder. He was telling himself that he was fulfilling the purpose of punishment so that if his screams reached the ears of the rest of the tribe, the people would be taught a lesson, but he did not think it was sincere.
After the first three blows, Visions Lady walked around him, whispering something to herself. Then she continued, adding a little more strength. She chopped his fresh welt two or three times in a row, much to the giggles that amused her and the nearby Striped Kitten.
It seemed to him he was fighting with some ancestor, spirit, or god. Didn't the Visions Lady herself say that whipping from both sides allows people to have spiritual experiences? He looked back at her again. As her naked body prepared for the next strike, she truly looked as if she had been possessed by one of the spirit beings in a trance. An unprecedented fear now gripped the Falcon's wing. It was aggravated by the hot touch of the whip, but it also intensified the excitement that followed. Strokes became a curse, but at the same time, a blessing from higher forces.
He couldn't stand for long after the sentence was carried out, so Visons Lady took him to her hut, where he lay down next to her daughter. To everyone's surprise, she nursed them both.
"You don't know if she would like another husband?" He asked Kitten as the ass he couldn't help but admire moved away.
Kitten spat. "So you can hit her?"
"No, trust me. From now on, only she will beat the two of us. I'm sure-" He paused but finally said it.
"She will recommend you some herbs that will keep you from expecting children until you feel like it."
His daughter refused to look at him. "But I'm afraid you've already changed my name to Striped-tail Kitten forever."
He knew that the sun would not rise for a long time. He pulled up his fur and brought the torch closer to his face. "You look bored," a voice from behind said to him, belonging to a figure leaning against one of the old-timer trees, guardians of family lines. Not only by the voice but also by the outlines of the muscles, one could recognize the Hiding in the mammoth shadow. They have been blood-no-blood since he married his daughter, Striped Kitten.
"Perhaps you would like to hear a story," Hiding suggested. "How about the greatest classic – The Boy Who Stroke Fire from Wood?"
"No one has to hear that more than twice," Falcon's wing replied, walking towards the forest's edge. His blood-no-blood joined him.
"Perhaps our most interesting then – The Woman Who Solved the Mystery of the Conception?"
Falcon's wing sighed. "It's too long, and it kinda sucks at the end."
"Then I could tell you a story taking place in my hut just before sunset."
Falcon's wing noticed the bitterness in Hiding's voice and stopped. "I haven't heard anything from you," he said.
"Look at my face," Hiding asked him. The light of the flames revealed his round face, disfigured by yellow and blue trails and even a trickle of blood.
"We remained silent, but she put all the more force into her fists." He whispered, perhaps out of consideration or due to a long-married life.
"Did yours – My daughter do that to you?"
Hiding spat out. "Kitten refuses to get pregnant. She keeps reminding me of how it killed her mother, and even the babe didn't survive. She wants me to love her only to her back cave, and when I want to go somewhere else, she beats me."
Falcon's wing understood his woes. According to custom, only an adult woman could beat another, but she could beat a man, even her husband. If it were otherwise, even a Visions Lady would have less authority.
"People will say that the spirit of death is watching over me and not the spirit of life. Maybe they'll forbid me to hunt! And it's all about my seed ending up in my wife's ass!"
"I'll go with you," Falcon's wing tried to reassure him. Just allow me to enter after the dawn."
The uninjured part of the Hiding's face testified to gratitude and trust, but the man held on to the torch-bearer as if he had been an exile without a home. Falcon's wing ignored him, only watching the sky.
As soon as it was evident, even through the clouds, that the world was getting brighter under the sun and the voices of people signified their awakening, Falcon's wing sang a short song and added the torch to the flames of the grandiose fireplace in the middle of the village.
Almost in response to his song, the ritual incantations of women resounded in the huts, among which he recognized his daughter's voice.
Hiding preceded him and allowed him to cross the threshold. Striped Kitten stood by the bed, completely naked and with long, loose black hair, resembling the Mother of Ravens herself. She ignored her husband and father but turned in a circle defined by laid birch rods.
She had just finished her singing spell. "I thank the moon and the stars for magic and dreams, but the time of warmth and life has come." She calmed down to the exit and only then took note of the man in her dwelling. "Hello, Dad. I hope you made it through the night just fine. Would you like to rest here?"
Falcon's wing frowned and pointed to his blood-no blood face. "I heard about your problems. I'm sorry you're afraid, but your husband has the right to a child, as does the whole tribe. You are a hypocrite, if you do not give up love for this. You just let it go elsewhere."
Striped Kitten collected rods. "If it were to bring me death, the tribe would lose me. If a child dies, it would be a total loss."
"Then don't make love. The purpose of it is to open the gate between spirits and people, no matter how it turns out."
"No, it's a celebration of life. My life!" Striped Kitten stomped and flared her nostrils, the color of the woman's face being reminiscent of war paintings.
Falcon's wing began to lose patience with her. "I think there's too much childish naughtiness in you," her father said, pointing to the collected rods. "And we both know how mom used to treat that illness."
Fear appeared in her pool-like eyes, fueled by memories of how she screamed and threw her legs, how her mother sparked a heat on her ass that our fireplace could not match. Whoever saw the act appreciated her upbringing and even lent the strčit woman his son or daughter for punishment, appreciating her vigorous swing, trained in throwing a javelin.
"I'm not a child anymore," said Striped Kitten.
Falcon's wing saw it differently. "It is said that a woman matures twice. When she can have children and when she has them. The second thing hasn't happened yet."
"Even I haven't beat her," Hiding said uncertainly.
"She's my daughter, and we should do something about the bottom she's so proud of!"
Falcon's wing squeezed Kitten's wrist. She couldn't overcome his grip, no matter how big she was. Her father ripped out the bundle of rods from her and forced her to bend more and arch her naked, rebellious behind.
A long flick sounded through the hut, and the tips of the rods touched the rounded buttocks. Kitten put a free hand in her mouth so as not to embarrass herself, which pleased her father. He only managed to conjure up a few abrasions with the first blow, but he hit her across both buttocks with the second. The girl tried to straighten up but only earned two blows, this time to the back. Falcon's wing began to whip her with full force. He didn't want his daughter to bleed because it might attract the vile spirits, but he wanted Striped Kitten to remember that and not use her ass for things the gods didn't make it to do. That's why he focused there, not on her back, although he didn't spare it either. Two visible hits on the buttocks became five, and from five, he jumped to sixteen. The welts on that bottom began to resemble the refined drawings that her great-grandfathers and great-grandmothers had painted on the stone walls of caves.
Falcon's wing managed to tame her tossing, and the rods hit their target each time. He was willing to go up to fifty strokes, but he was supposed to believe in bad omens. A brisk flick cut through the sensitive skin, and blood appeared on his daughter's buttocks for the first time. At that moment, she slipped away from him and, completely ignoring her nakedness, ran outside. In addition to her body, the awakening villagers could also be attracted by her screams, which were otherwise only characteristic of the prey.
To humans, this must have felt like some attack on the tribe's foundation, and that was probably what Kitten was hoping for, as she soon stood as close to the fireplace as possible to be lit by the flames. Unexpectedly, the villagers formed the first council of this Luna, from the youngest listeners to the venerable elders.
However, two people whose saying was always the finale took the lead – the burly Chief Warthead and Deep Eye, the Visions Lady. The chief was wearing so much fur that bears should have bowed down to him, but the Visions Lady was naked, as were Kitten and several other women in the crowd. She had already given birth to three living children, and as a sign of this blessing, she had red and yellow cords hanging on her labia.
She was the first to demand an explanation of what had happened, though the scars of the Kitty suggested a lot.
Falcon's wing took a few long steps towards the fireplace and took the floor. "Maybe I've crossed the line, but my daughter has opposed making our tribe bigger. I had to remind her that some customs are more important than others."
"I thought I was the only one who could compare the importance of customs," Warthead said. "Explain quickly how this abomination happened!" He spoke aloud if only to drown out the excited murmurs of the people for whom he was half a god.
Hiding was about to open his mouth, but Falcon's wing struck him in the back, and took charge of the explanation himself. He described what had happened between his daughter and her husband, how she stubbornly rejected bearing a child, and why he decided it was necessary to treat her as if she were still a little girl.
Many were amused, but according to the discussion of angry voices, it seemed that different opinions arose in the crowd, and no one wanted to change them. At that moment, the leaders asserted themselves again.
"The ban on beating women by men must always apply and its violation must not be left without a deterrent example," Deep Eye pointed out. "However, Falcon's wing is right that Striped Kitten behaved irresponsibly." The reprimanded girl showed a face that had last been seen on her when her boyfriend cunningly recommended a sour fruit. Visions Lady approached her and ran her finger over her buttocks. "I think I'll take on the role of your mother and spank you every morning from now on until your husband is completely happy with you."
Kitten couldn't resist her will, but you could see in her clenched fists that she hated the woman in front of her and would mark her somewhere else than on her ass.
Deep Eye looked into the face of Falcon's wing. "I hope you understand that I must punish you, too."
"What I did served its purpose," the father said proudly.
"All right. So let's go into the forest, and you will get ten lashes on your back."
Falcon's wing blinked. "Ten lashes? With what?"
"The whip. I use it for my joy and spiritual experiences."
The burly hunter didn't mind the whipping as much as everyone hearing about it. On the other hand, where else should the verdict be announced than in the council?
He stood motionless as the leaders moved away and then returned. Warthead's manly hands threatened him with the rope, while Deep Eye's delicate fingers gripped a long loop designed to deliver pain.
"We will go, and your daughter too, so that she can see that you suffer as she did!"
Falcon's wing wouldn't bear the pressure of another warrior, but he meekly surrendered to the lead as the Visions Lady gripped his hand and pulled him along. He was tired from a sleepless night, and a little pain would do a man good to maintain his vigilance. Not to mention, he wasn't uncomfortable looking at the Visions Lady's breasts and behind, either.
"Take your clothes off," Deep Eye commanded as they moved out of sight and earshot of the crowd and into a cluster of stout, verdant trees. He reluctantly obeyed and pressed himself against one of the trunks. The chief tied a rope around his waist and made a tight knot at the other end.
Falcon's wing felt a pressure on his cock that might otherwise have been pleasurable. However, he decided that he would adapt to the circumstances. He looked back and tried to capture as much as possible of the frontal side of the naked Deep Eye, which retained graceful curves so that the absence of clothes suited her. He looked at her nipples and felt like squeezing them between his fingers like a man pulling an arrow out of a cowed animal. Cock had hardened now and was rubbing against the bark of the tree. Falcon's wing wondered if this would affect the perception of pain.
The Visions Lady spread her arms and swung her whip after a short chant of praise to the gods and spirits. The leather came off the ground and hit the hunter just above the rump.
"UUUMMMHHHH." He bit his lip so hard that his whole head shook. At first, he was just startled by the cut skin, but above all he could not get rid of the unbearable burning on the small of his back, which did not stop, rather it got worse. He suspected that blood would be dripping down his buttocks before long.
Visions Lady gave him a second stroke, this time close to the shoulders.
"AAAAAAHHH!"
He had to scream at least a little to relieve the pain. He was beginning to doubt that his sanity would survive the eight remaining wounds.
For the third time, the whip bit into the flesh between the two burning points. Falcon's wing screamed even louder. He was telling himself that he was fulfilling the purpose of punishment so that if his screams reached the ears of the rest of the tribe, the people would be taught a lesson, but he did not think it was sincere.
After the first three blows, Visions Lady walked around him, whispering something to herself. Then she continued, adding a little more strength. She chopped his fresh welt two or three times in a row, much to the giggles that amused her and the nearby Striped Kitten.
It seemed to him he was fighting with some ancestor, spirit, or god. Didn't the Visions Lady herself say that whipping from both sides allows people to have spiritual experiences? He looked back at her again. As her naked body prepared for the next strike, she truly looked as if she had been possessed by one of the spirit beings in a trance. An unprecedented fear now gripped the Falcon's wing. It was aggravated by the hot touch of the whip, but it also intensified the excitement that followed. Strokes became a curse, but at the same time, a blessing from higher forces.
He couldn't stand for long after the sentence was carried out, so Visons Lady took him to her hut, where he lay down next to her daughter. To everyone's surprise, she nursed them both.
"You don't know if she would like another husband?" He asked Kitten as the ass he couldn't help but admire moved away.
Kitten spat. "So you can hit her?"
"No, trust me. From now on, only she will beat the two of us. I'm sure-" He paused but finally said it.
"She will recommend you some herbs that will keep you from expecting children until you feel like it."
His daughter refused to look at him. "But I'm afraid you've already changed my name to Striped-tail Kitten forever."
