The First Tribe Read Free

subservient tribal female. His eyes wandered towards a lovely, petite Vastara woman, picking flowers while she reflected on her strange beliefs. He strode over and grabbed her arm, and he claimed her as his own. The cruel man broke her spirit until she could no longer recite her rituals. She was forced to wear a collar, and she was kept leashed or bound to keep her from escaping. There was nothing the Vastara could do to save her… so they ran.
    As they spent most of their time in the forests, the Vastara were agile among the trees and rocks. They could not fight off wild animals while they wandered in thought, so they had become adept at fleeting escape. The sheer size of the Kirabi hindered their progress through the forests. The bantas were useless in the thick brush, even though their forearms’ claws dug frantically at the branches. The beast riders finally withdrew to the meadow, grumbling angry curses at being outmaneuvered.

Chapter I

    As years passed and new generations were born, the Kirabi became even larger and stronger. The Vastara remained concealed within their northern forest and caves, content with their passive world of enlightenment. Any strategy the philosophers had witnessed from the Kirabi concerning fierce battle and weapons was long ago forgotten. It was useless information for their rituals.
    Stories around campfires grew to exaggerated tales. The legends of the Kirabi’s vicious, cruel nature kept the Vastara content from a desire to leave their cold land. Tales were also spoken around the beast riders’ fires. One legend that kept the men enthralled was of an ancient people hidden in the north forests that possessed ethereal beauty. Their own women, though quite stunning, were almost as tall and muscular as the Kirabi men. The thought of a petite female… fragile and submissively passive… became a mythical obsession for the beast riders.
    To own such a creature , Dasheen thought. He stared up at the small second moon while a Fisba slave sucked his cock. The female was encouraged by his swollen organ and she was pleased that her ministrations were so well received. Dasheen looked down at her. The pathetic creature still bore a shiny black pelt down her back and the beast rider’s hand gripped her fur, keeping her in place.
    It was the beginning of third season, and the Kirabi would be traveling south again, soon. The cool winds already chilled through the tents at night. Dasheen’s mind always wandered to the Vastara when his tribe made the journey north to gather vegetables and herbs. He peered across the waving grass towards the forests and mountains on the other side of the fertile meadow. There were no lights from fires or any indication that the Vastara still existed. Indeed, it had been suggested years ago that with their small stature and lacking the physical skills of the Kirabi, Vastara had been extinct for generations. They simply could not have survived the brutal winters of the north.
    Dasheen refused to believe this. He was certain the Vastara lived. His own eyes observed cuttings from plants on the other side of the field that did not look like the work of any beast. They come early. Perhaps, they gather their plants during first season? Dasheen considered the possibility. That the Vastara had managed to remain unnoticed and unseen for so long… this was the only logical explanation. They must do their gathering before the land has warmed and we arrive for our harvest.
    The Fisba’s fang nicked the ridge under his crown and Dasheen growled at her. The female tasted blood and she cringed. Tears leaked from the sides of her elongated eyes while she folded her lips around her fangs and renewed her efforts. She knew that she would be punished for her ambitious error.
    The creature wrapped the three fingers on each of her hands around the beast rider’s sack. She caressed and probed his fleshy bags, gently caressing with her pads. All Fisba’s had their front claws removed at