12/98
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o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o
o  	The 'Bookshelf collection' offers a very wide variety of  o
o  stories. They have been submitted by people from all over the  o
o  world.  Also from alt.sex.stories (Newsgroups).   There is no  o
o  particular  order  other than offering them to you in  alpha-  o
o  betical directories.                                           o
o   	Lest we forget!!!   This story was produced as adult en-  o
o tertainment and should not be read by minors.   Kristen         o
o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o

The Horsewomen - 8 (FF, f-beast)
by Jeanne de Stein


8. FINALE AND CODA
(first part)

    They brought Hikati back to the camp unconscious, lashed to the back of her
horse with her own lasso. The older women came to her tent, and Ariti and Silini
joined them; the rest of the Sisterhood gathered outside, whispering between
them.  Ariti came out briefly and told them that the chiefess had cried out
suddenly during the hunt, clutched her chest and fallen off her steed. Clearly,
the thread on her loom had run out, for only rarely could an evil spirit touch a
great sorceress such as Hikati. The horsewomen nodded agreement, and some of
them began drifting away, but a few remained sitting outside the tent until
nightfall. Nobody had any time for the males.
     Both Atossa and Sarissa were very muted this evening, and Fallou deemed it
wise to keep completely silent. Late in the night, Ariti entered, her face rigid
with emotion, took Atossa aside and spoke to her in such a low voice that he
could not hear what she was saying, but Atossa seemed to put a question to
Ariti, she received an affirmative nod and fell silent for a while. Then she
spoke to Ariti again, they embraced and Hikati's elder daughter left.
     Fallou woke up in the hour before first light, when the spirit of man and
woman is at low ebb, and the Nameless Ones walk the earth. He imagined at first
that he had heard the scream of a
distant bush-cat, then fear struck him and he thought, banshi ... until it was
clear that the wailing was human. The death-song had begun, and the old gynarki
was dead. Fallou did regret her passing, for she had once made the decision that
he would live, and not go to the killing-pole, and she had always treated him as
gently as could be expected of a horsewoman when she was using him; but there
was also a vague foreboding in his heart. Death walked among them.
Would she be satisfied with Hikati's old hide and leave them alone?
     His two owners rose and went out; he followed them discreetly at a
distance. Women were already gathering around the tent of the chiefess, carrying
torches, and Atossa and Sarissa bent down, smeared their faces with dirt and
joined in the chorus. But when the sisters saw them, they fell silent and looked
at each other; and a voice was heard: Atossa! Atossa gynarki! The other women
raised their torches high and took up the cry: Atossa gynarki! Atossa shall be
our woman-ruler! And Atossa gestured acceptance and embraced all the women as
they thronged around her, old and young, and more of them arriving every moment.
The grey streak at the
horizon that no one had noticed grew red and was seen by all. A new day was
coming, and Atossa was chiefess of the Sisterhood, Sarissa was the gynarki's
companion and Fallou too had probably risen in rank---if any such thing could be
said to exist among beings as lowly as man-slaves. Ariti and Silini emerged from
the tent and joined them, very solemn, and were also embraced and kissed by
Atossa. She entered the tent and was gone; Fallou suddenly felt the
cold of the morning air and shivered, and Sarissa took him by his arm and led
him home.

     Hikati was decked out in her best finery and carried to the top of a small
hill, just a long arrow-shot away from the camp. She was laid out on a platform
built out of sods and covered with furs and fine patterned drapes, and the
sisters gathered again in the cool of the evening to see her off to the
Ever-flowing Springs. Fires were lit, torches were raised on poles to light the
ceremony. The death-song was chanted again, rising and falling under a sky
bright with stars.
     Fallou sat with the other males outside the circle of women. Old Kakou,
Hikati's own male, waited apart from the others, and close by him sat two of the
women, Timesse and Ipparki. Fallou wondered what would become of Kakou now. A
dead woman's companion usually
inherited her slave or slaves, while the rest of her belongings went to her
daughters, but Hikati had no widow. Kakou looked queer; his eyes gazed blindly
into space and he was rocking slowly to and fro. But now the singing ceased, and
Silini approached the platform, leading the gelding that had carried Hikati.
The animal was uneasy, flicking his ears back and forth, and his eyes were red
with the light of the torches. Ariti stood in front of the bier, a large
sledgehammer in her hands; she sang an incantation while the sisters rose
expectantly. The hammer swung and struck, and the horse dropped like a
grotesque, articulated toy and the women screamed approval in unison. Blood was
gathered in a bowl and brought to Atossa; she stood up, removed boots,
breech-clout and all and smeared herself with it, head to foot. Again, the crowd
roared. Two or three women started butchering the carcass of the horse; it would
follow its mistress and serve her, as it had in life, but it would not need its
body, only its spirit; anyway, horse-meat was a delicacy which could be had only
after great sacrifices to the gods, and should not be left to rot. When the
choice cuts had been sent to the communal pot, lower down on the hillside, the
rest of the carcass was arranged below the platform.  But the head was cut off
and raised above it, on Hikati's own lance.
     A hush fell. The waiting women glanced around expectantly. Then, Ipparki
and Timesse appeared in the firelight, leading Kakou between them.
     Not until now did it dawn upon Fallou that the man was drugged.  He did not
seem to see where he was going; his will, what little of it that remained after
long years of slavery, had been taken away from him and his eyes were wide open
but unseeing. The two women steered him to the foot end of the platform; there
they threw him to the ground. Eager hands grasped him, turned him on his back
and held him, arms above his head. Suddenly, a completely naked woman
stood by his feet, looking down on him. It was Sarissa, looking like a painted
demon in the firelight. A murmur was heard. She knelt and sat down on Kakou's
hips.
     She seemed to do something to him. By raising himself a little, Fallou
managed to see what it was. She was caressing him, stroking him, and Fallou
heard faintly above the sounds of the waiting crowd that she was soothing him
with words.  Kakou moved his head a little from side to side, but made no sound.
     She was holding his member, working it, making it grow between her palms.
Now, Fallou saw more than heard Kakou groan. Sarissa was in no hurry, but worked
up a good erection; the onlookers commented favourably on it. Hikati would be
pleased. Then Sarissa raised herself a little over the helpless body below and,
guiding the member with her hands, she took it into herself and sat down on it,
using him.
     She rode him slowly at first, leaning over him, supporting her hands on his
shoulders. She praised him loudly: he gave pleasure, he was good. He had served
his mistress well and she would be well served by him again. All the while, she
observed him closely. Kakou threw his head right and left and his body began to
heave.  Suddenly, Sarissa shifted her hands to his throat. Her fingers closed
around it, she pressed and moved her hips violently, and not until then did
Fallou understand what he saw. It was a human sacrifice: Sarissa was strangling
Kakou while she raped him. 
     Kakou's eyes bulged, his face contorted, his tongue hung out of his gaping
mouth and his body rose in a great arch under his rider, and in the moment of
his death, he came inside her.
     Fallou fell to the ground while the women screamed insanely. It had
happened again. One of the women he belonged to had killed ritually. The night
rocked and rotated around him and as from a great distance, he heard the sisters
raise the death chant again.  A hand touched him, and he recoiled in terror. But
a voice spoke kindly to him, and it was Ginesse; and she raised him to his feet
and held him and reassured him. Hikati and old woman Death had got their due and
were satisfied. She led him slowly down the hillside, both of them stumbling in
the dark, following the singing women down to the cooking-fire and the pot.
There she sat him down and waited, her arm around his neck. He could not keep
himself from shaking, and was ashamed. His own people had after all done this
sort of thing not too many generations ago. The custom had fallen into disuse,
but he suspected that peace and rising prices of slaves, not better manners, had
brought this about.
     Ginesse was still holding him when Sarissa appeared in front of them. He
froze. Sarissa knelt down in front of him, took his hands and spoke to him. Now
Kakou had followed Hikati to the Springs, just as the horse had done, to serve
her until they both faded away and were carried along by the night-wind. Hikati
would be pleased to have him; he would be much better off with her than in the
world above, worked by all and comforted by none, living out his miserable years
until his thread reached its end or until somebody took pity on him and clubbed
him---would he not? He would be young again, and Hikati would be young, and they
would never know hunger
or thirst in the dry season, for surely the Springs flowed without end. She
insisted until he calmed down and felt the tension and the fear gradually leave
him.
     She leaned closer: what had been done was done only when a great sorceress
died. He would not be required to follow Atossa on her last ride, unless he
asked for it; Sarissa would be his sole owner then, if she lived, or else she
would have committed him to some other woman who would care for him. Ariti would
be pleased to take him on, that she knew for certain. She knew that he liked
Ariti---no, she was not displeased, she loved Ariti herself, but not as much as
Atossa, of course. Ariti was very popular among the sisters.
     Sarissa's presence would be required during the ceremonial feasting, and
Atossa's, too. And Ariti and Silini would have to be there, as next of kin. But
would Ginesse take Fallou down to
Atossa's tent and comfort him? They would save some nice pieces of boiled meat
for her return, the feasting would continue until daybreak anyway.
     And Ginesse undertook this mission of mercy and led Fallou away to the
camp, with a torch to light them. Inside the tent, she put the torch carefully
away in the fire basket and put Fallou on the bed. She held him. She spoke to
him; she insisted that he must agree that what Sarissa had said was true, and
that the right thing had been done; and he was too exhausted and emotionally
spent to gainsay her.  Yes, the customs of the Sisterhood and of the Grasslands
had been honoured. Ginesse kissed him and rolled him over on his back. For a
fleeting moment, the image of Kakou flitted through his mind, but he banished
it. She came down on top of him,  held his wrists and pushed his legs apart with
her knees, so that he would lie under her the way the unfree women, the
horse-less and weapon-less women did when men used them; she raised her hips a
little and moved his member with one hand so that she would not hurt it. It came
to lie between her thighs. Then she rested, silently, while he savoured the
warmth and the heaviness of her
body. She was not fully grown, of course, and he found himself wishing that she
would have been heavier, robbing him of more of his will and stilling his
disquiet better by pinning him down more decisively. But Ginesse was good; and
soon he caught himself thinking of the grassy little hollow near where the
horses grazed. 
    Ginesse let go of his wrists and suffered him to put his arms around her
neck. She rubbed her face against his. The memory of what he and Ginesse and
Silini had done worked its magic on him, and he was calm. But Ginesse felt his
member stiffen and rise before he did, and she must have recalled their game
too; for she parted her thighs a little, permitting his penis to come up and be
held in her crotch, caught in the little space between it and the smooth insides
of her thighs. She made a reassuring sound and squirmed on top of him; she too
was pleased with the memory. 
     After a while, she broke her silence. He had been a good and obedient slave
that time, when Silini had helped her.  The thought of it made her horny. Would
he be capable of serving her tonight?
     Yes, he thought so; and stammering, he tried to convey to her his feelings
toward her and Silini, and what a pleasant memory they had given him. Aha, said
Ginesse, which had he liked best, the fucking or the whipping? Boldly he said,
both. She laughed at him. All right, he would have both again. She wanted him to
lie on top of her and use her (these were her actual words) the way he had done
with Silini. No one was looking, so she would not lose standing among women, and
he would keep silent about it. He assured her of his loyalty. But first the
whipping. It was a pity that he could not be whipped while he was using her, the
way she herself had done
that time, but never mind. She would do it before the copulation. 
     So she rose and rolled him over on his face and uncoiled the whip she wore
around her waist. The remains of the torch were still giving off a little light.
She stood above him, with one foot on
the small of his back, and then she gave him six lashes, but they were not as
hard as she could have made them. And then she threw herself at him and he
mounted her and was a man again, and he entered her and possessed her, working
steadily in and out while she writhed under him and made curious little sounds
that he had never heard a horsewoman make before. Briefly, he wondered if she
was a pervert, and then he asked himself what that word meant, here among these
women. He held himself back until he heard and felt her let go. After the
orgasm, he remained as he was for quite some time, and Ginesse did not seem to
object. The memory of the
pleasure and the aching of his rump filled him. Then he rolled away, and Ginesse
remained with him until he went to sleep. Later that night, he woke up and she
was gone, but now he was calm. He listened for a while to the distant sounds of
the carousing women, and then he slept again. When morning came, it was Sarissa
who was sleeping by him, her arm across him. He did not move for fear of
disturbing her. Only briefly did he feel queasy when, close to his face, he saw
her right hand. Finally, a full bladder and an aching member forced him to
disengage himself and rise, but Sarissa did not move. He found Atossa on
Sarissa's other side. Both of them slept the whole morning away. 
     But on the crest of the hill, Hikati and Kakou and the horse waited for the
carrion birds to pick their bones clean and release their spirits for the ride
to the Springs, and he could already see the first of the black dots circling
high above when he returned to the tent.
     Being a chiefess made no great difference to Atossa. She had always been a
very respected member of the Sisterhood, not least after her ordeal in the
Passage-place, and of course a chiefess had no power to command and coerce other
women. Her new role meant simply that her advice was asked more often, and that
common decisions were referred to her when there was no general agreement.
     She led the communal hunts, of course, but hunting was done in small groups
of two or three at this time of the year. Everybody knew when it was time to
move camp, and where it would be moved.
     Fallou did his chores as usual, and had not expected otherwise.  Ginesse
came by now and then, smiled and patted him, but did never comment on that night
in Atossa's tent. But Silini and Ariti went about smeared all over with ashes,
looking like ghosts, and no sexual intercourse with them was permitted. This
taboo would be in force for three cycles of the moon.  Gradually, his relations
with Sarissa returned to what they had been: he honoured, feared and obeyed her,
but no horror surrounded her anymore. She was a normal horsewoman, just like any
other, except that she owned him. The women were savage, but fully human,
dangerous, but not completely
unpredictable. He understood them.
     Having no witch was a problem, of course. Silini had been apprenticed to
her mother, but was not fully qualified yet. There were still things to learn
and ceremonies to observe. It was agreed
that this autumn, Silini would ride to the camp of a great sorceress further
east and ask to be accepted as her pupil for the winter; that would probably be
enough, and next summer, she would
be able to preside, with Atossa, over Niki's rites of passage.  Ginesse was
devastated: could she not accompany her lover? But this idea was not received
favourably by the women, and Atossa vetoed it. They would be three women short
that way, and that was too much. Aryana spoke up. Ginesse could move in with
her, share her tent until they went into winter quarters, and share her furs and
Ippou then. Silini would not mind, would she? Silini looked long at Ginesse,
sighed and accepted the arrangement. She must do her duty to the sisters, as the
mores of the horsewomen demanded, and it would be very exciting to meet the
famous old witch, of course.
     So the life of the Sisterhood resumed its normal course.
    The daily work was done, the territory was scoured for game, the
time-honoured trails were followed. What else could a horsewoman do, or the
horsewoman's slave? Fallou did his chores, served his two owners and their
friends and trudged across the plains, towed by his balls by Atossa or Sarissa.
One day, when they wanted to hunt together on the march, they handed him over to
Ariti for safekeeping. And Ariti accepted the job merrily, and while she was
putting him on his leash, she told him that she had rescued and saved the
arse-bracket and the neck-band, and she had plenty of nails, too! When they were
in winter camp, she would bring out the hardware and hook and nail him to a log
and ride and use him, and then leave him as he was, impaled and helpless,
perhaps for a day and a night and another day, and use him again, and again.
Would
not that be terrible? Yes it would, said he, and he feared her and he longed to
be used by her, and it showed. She kissed him and then she paid out the rope and
mounted her pony.

continued in part 9