Future of Porn

I was majoring in psychology and taking a course on the psychology of fetishism. For my research project and final paper I decided to do a case study of a sexual exhibitionist. So I placed an ad in the campus newspaper looking for informants and received quite a few replies, mostly from guys. But since I”m a woman myself I was more curious to find a subject who was a woman, figuring she”d think more as I did, that I could relate more easily to her. Also, being somewhat of a curious voyeur myself — which is part of the reason I chose to do research on this topic in the first place — and having a special curiosity about the sexual behavior of other women, I decided to consider only female respondents and ignored the many, many guys who got back to me.

One woman sent me and email which said this: “I”m both a voyeur and an exhibitionist. Some people like to watch, some like to be watched. I love to do both. I get totally, and I mean “totally”, aroused by the visual side of sex, by watching it happen. I love to watch people getting really hardcore. And, even more, I absolutely adore showing it all off, being seen naked or flashing it, and having people watch while I have sex. I”ve been known to put on a pretty hot show. Feel like talking to me? Marcie.”

I sure as hell did! She sounded just perfect.. So I called her and arranged for Marcie to come in for an interview. Like me, she turned out to be a Senior and, at twenty-four, she was older than most since she had decided to take a couple of years off before starting college. She was a tall, very pretty and willowy blonde with these incredibly huge tits, tits which seemed out of proportion to the rest of her since she could hardly have been said to be voluptuous. And she moved with the grace of a cat. I could certainly see how if she loved showing it off, as she said she did, there was probably a big audience for her self-displays. For a naked Marcie, or a Marcie encouraging others to watch her have sex, must have been quite an eyeful.

“I’ve been that way for a long time,” she began. “You know, loving to flaunt it, to show it off. And from the first time I saw someone naked I wasn’t supposed to see naked, and then saw someone having sex I wasn’t supposed see have sex, I couldn’t get enough. And I “love” to be watched myself. I think it began with my older sister Kelly. She was always like that too, walking around the house in panties and bra. We were still living in the house back then and mom and dad used to give her hell for that. I remember once one of our uncles, our dad’s youngest brother came over to the house and in walked Kelly in a little pair of bikini panties and a half-bra. Our uncle couldn’t stop staring at her and our dad, of course, noticed. Later he gave Kelly a real chewing out.

“Soon Kelly had me doing the same thing, walking around the house in just underwear. When we’d go out together we’d put on real short skirts and tight halter tops or sweaters, and we loved the way guys — and chicks too — would stare at us. Then Kelly decided that we shouldn’t wear any panties under our skirts when we went out one day. So off we went like that and every opportunity we had, we’d hitch up our skirts and spread our legs a little, knowing full well guys and girls both would catch themselves a glimpse of our flashing beaver. I guess that’s when my fetish began in earnest, when I started going out not wearing any panties and flashing it all over the place.

“And of course whenever Kelly and I caught a glimpse of something sexy we couldn’t stop staring. Once when we were taking a hike in the woods near our house we ran across a couple having sex. We hid behind a tree and watched the this guy fuck the shit out his girlfriend. It made us so hot too. We rushed home afterwards and beat off. That’s another thing, me and my sister used to beat off together. Masturbating became even more exciting when we did it in front of each other, watching and being watched. We’d discovered our parents’ stack of porn tapes, and we’d watch them when we beat off. That’s when I started getting a serious fetish for viewing porn and began to realize that the visual side of sex — “seeing it “– turned me on almost as much as doing it.

“Sometimes I’d have girlfriends come over to watch porn with me. I’d always make sure to be wearing a skirt when I did this so I could hitch it up and start playing with myself when I began to get excited. Some of my girlfriends really freaked out when they saw me do that, beating off right in front of them. But others were cool. They’d lift up their skirts or pull down their jeans and just join me.

“Kelly was in her twenties already and still living in the house, and I had turned eighteen a few months earlier. Both of us were working and saving money, that’s why we were living at home. I wanted to save up for a trip to Europe and Kelly wanted to get a place of her own. But for now we were still stuck in the old homestead.”

“I think I’m getting the picture,” I said and I was. Marcie was providing as clear a picture of the origins of her fetish. And it wasn’t just what Marcie was telling me, for I had noticed that Marcie had worn a short skirt to the interview and as she sat there on the couch, opposite me, she slowly hitched up that skirt and started pulling her legs apart little by little. Pretty soon I could see that Marcie wasn’t wearing any panties under skirt this time either. Not that I was surprised, given what she had already told me.

And of course she noticed me noticing, dropping my eyes between her legs. The sassy smile on her face told me she knew perfectly well that I had caught a flash of her thicket of blonde pubic hair. But the one who was really in for a surprise was Marcie herself. Because knowing what I already knew about her from her response, and talking to her on the phone, I thought that I, too, would get appropriately attired for this interview. So I also was wearing a short skirt. And just like Marcie, I also had chosen “not” to wear any panties under that skirt. So right after she hitched up her skirt and spread her legs, I did the same. I could see how amazed she was by the sight. She’d probably figured I couldn’t be too surprised by her coming in like that. But she hadn’t expected “me” to show it off for “her” the way I was doing now.

“You did say you liked to be watched “and” to watch, right?” I teased as we laughed, the ice definitely broken by this brazen mutual display. And this is how our interview would continue, with our short skirts hitched up, our legs spread apart, and pussies showing.

“As you were saying?” I said with a knowing smile.

“As I was saying, I learned it all from my sister. Kelly was really something, a role model for me in the ways of sex. She was always a wild thing and had a firecracker libido, something I think I share with her. Maybe it’s in the genes.

“Anyway, one weekend our mom and dad were off on one of their ski weekends. I knew Kelly would probably use the opportunity to bring over a guy to fuck. She got a real charge making it in our house when mom and dad were gone. Kelly figured she was a grown woman now, and this was her house too. So if she wanted to bring someone home and party into the night, that was her business. She’d done that before and I almost got to peek in on her once, but the guy she brought over to screw slammed the door shut right after they got inside her bedroom. All I could do was listen to Kelly howling and groaning and the sound of the bedsprings as he socked it to her. That’s another side of voyeurism, you know, when you listen rather than watch.

“Now a while before this my sister had told me that she was definitely bisexual and liked making it with chicks a lot, not just guys. I was a little surprised, but not too much, since I knew what a total sex fiend Kelly was and how she always got turned on by girl-girl scenes when we watched porn videos together.

“So right after our folks split for the weekend, Kelly tells me that lately she’s been seeing this foxy young stripper who dances in a topless bar not far from where Kelly worked. I couldn’t help smiling to myself. That was just like my sister, having a fling with a stripper! The problem was that this stripper was married, supposedly to a real jealous jerk too. They had to sneak around to do it, but with mom and dad gone, Kelly figured she could have Ginger come over to our place.

“So a couple of hours after mom and dad left, this Ginger shows up at the door. She turns out to be about my age, not yet nineteen, and she’s this really cute, sleek young slut. Kelly introduced us, then took me aside, asking me not to slip up and say anything to mom and dad about Ginger coming over and spending the night. We were tight, me and my sister, especially about things like sex. After all, we’d been beating off together for years.

“Then Kelly told me that after she and Ginger went into her bedroom, she’d make sure to leave the door open so I could peek in and watch her and Ginger make it if I wanted to. You can imagine how that flipped me out. I’d been beating off with my sister and other chicks, watching them and having them watch me. But this was different. Now I’d actually be snooping on my nasty older sister making it with someone, a stripper no less!

“Later, as Kelly and Ginger went upstairs to her room, Kelly looked back and winked at me. I waited a couple of minutes and then walked up the stairs quietly, making my way down the hallway to Kelly’s room, then peeked in. The two of them were on the bed, still dressed, making out, kissing and feeling each other up. Then they took off their clothes and I couldn’t help staring at Ginger’s spectacular body. I always envied the guys Kelly fucked, so I figured the first girl she made it with would turn out to be one fine piece of ass! And she sure was!

“Kelly had always been a little aggressive in sex, I knew, so I wasn’t really surprised to see her take charge. But I wasn’t quite prepared for what she did next. She had Ginger get on her elbows and knees, sticking out her foxy butt, and then spanked the hell out of her, until her buns were crimson. Kelly looked back towards the door at me and winked, smiling and licking her lips. Needless to say, I was pretty shocked. But “very, very” aroused also. Lately me and my sister had been watching these kinky videos where people did things like spank each other. But then you know all about stuff like that, with your interest in fetishes.”

“I know a little,” I said with a sly smile.

“Now that she had spanked the daylights out of the stripper, she turned her over and started to eat her pussy,” Marcie continued. “Kelly positioned Ginger to make sure I’d have a good view of her lapping away at Ginger”s cunt. I couldn’t help bringing a couple of fingers down to my own pussy as I watched my sister go down on Ginger. There was something wonderfully taboo about this, watching my own sister having sex with another woman!

“After Ginger thrashed around wildly on the bed, shrieking and moaning as my sister brought her to an orgasm, Kelly got up and pulled something out of a dresser drawer. I was in for another shock. For now she strapped on this huge dildo! She had Ginger get on her knees again, then got behind her, and shoved that fat dildo all the way up the stripper’s cunt in one savage thrust. Kelly reached around to squeeze Ginger’s big boobs and pinch her nipples as hard as she had spanked her ass, all the while pumping forward and slamming the dildo into her in a furious fuck. My sister made sure to look back at me and smile as she slammed it into the stripper. Naturally she caught me holding my skirt up above my waist and digging my fingers between my legs.

“Kelly’s pretty strong, so she gave the stripper one hell of a vicious fuck until, a second time, Ginger’s whole body shook and quivered and I knew she had just enjoyed orgasm number two. Then, slowly, Kelly pulled out the enormous dildo. I couldn’t help gazing at it, all wet from the stripper’s juicy cunt.

“Suddenly my sister looked over at me again and waved me into the room. I stood there, stunned. Me? Of course now Ginger realized she had been watched by me all along. But as a stripper she was a professional exhibitionist, used to being watched. Though having a babe watch her sister spank Ginger’s bottom, then fuck the shit out of her was a little different from being watched by a horde of lunch hour businessmen crowding around a stage.

“I walked in a little awkwardly, unsure of what was expected of me as Ginger looked me over matter-of-factly, seeming to like what she saw. A faint smell of pussy permeated the room.

“Then, out of nowhere, my sister asked me if I’d like to have Ginger go down on me. I was still straight, but after my sister confessed to me that she was bi, I had been burning up with curiosity, always asking her about girl-girl sex. So she knew I was into it.

“So I said to myself, this was my opportunity. The stripper was a fox, sitting there on the bed, looking like she’d love nothing better than to go down on me. Well, I told you this is when it began, my developing a fetish for watching and showing it off. So it didn’t take anything for me to whip off my clothes and tumble down onto the bed with my sister and Ginger. A second later I had my legs spread wide and Ginger between them. I could see why my sister was into the slut. Ginger ate pussy with the same relish a little kid licks a lollipop. Kelly, who still had her dildo strapped on, laid down next to me to watch, breathing hard, excited by what the stripper was doing to her baby sister.

” ‘Ginger really knows how to eat pussy, huh?’ Kelly whispered in my ear. This was really something for me, my first time having sex with someone watching, my first time having sex with a “woman”. And I loved it, loved every second. And I loved the “look” of it all. Me, showing off to my sister while I was getting eaten. Being able to look down at the sleek, sexy Ginger munching away between my legs, my naked sister next to me, dildo strapped to herself.

“I was so excited that pretty soon I was groaning and moaning and trembling as the stripper brought me to a cum with her wet, slippery tongue.

” ‘Move over, Ginger,’ Kelly said to her suddenly. ‘Now I’m going to fuck my little sister!’

“I looked at Kelly in shock as I nonetheless kept my legs spread wide open, letting Kelly get between them to work her big rubber cock inside me. Here were “two more” firsts. I was getting fucked with a dildo, and I was having “incest”, for godsakes! And Ginger loved it too, saying she thought it was so freaky to watch Kelly fuck her own sister. She stared at us like she could hardly believe this was happening. And the way she was watching me made everything twice as exciting, especially when she spread her legs lewdly and started fingering her own pussy, giving me one hell of a show while me and Kelly provided one for her.

“Soon the stripper was squeezing my big tits and sucking on my nipples while my sister kept fucking me. Then she sat over my face and fed me her pussy to eat while Kelly kept burying it inside me, the first one I’d ever eaten. The stripper had a jealous husband who worried she’d meet some other guy while taking off her clothes at work. Little did he suspect, Kelly had told me, that it was “pussy” Ginger hunted for, not cock!

“By the time we were done that night all three of us had gotten to strap on that rubber cock and use it on the other two. All three pussies had been eaten and all three of us had tasted each of the other two. And what added spice to everything was that there was so much to look at. Pretty wild, huh?”

“I’ll say!” I told her listening raptly to her story of ‘firsts.’

“So after all the innocent stuff, walking around in my undies, beating off with other women, watching lots of porn, I finally got to see someone else doing it, got to have them watch me doing it.”

“And that’s how that part of your fetish began?”

“Exactly.”

“You’ll have to tell me more,” I said.

“Oh don’t worry, there’s plenty more to tell,” Marcie said, “but first how about we take off these skirts?”

We had them hitched up with our knees separated and no panties underneath, flashing fur at each other. So taking them off was a natural next step. A moment later both of us were naked from the waist down. We had been flashing a little shag, now we were flashing pink.

“What a nice pussy, and what a nice bush,” she said, staring between my legs. I do in fact have a vivid little bush of curls down there, and a nice, pink slit in its midst. And looking over at Marcie, between her legs, I saw another nice triangle of downy curls, and a pretty, slick pussy peeking out at me.

“Show it off!” I hissed at her as I showed off mine.

“Uh huh,” she hissed excitedly, reaching in to hold her labia open as I did the same.

“Look at you, “exhibiting “yourself to me like that,” I said, teasing her about her fetish.

“And you’re giving me something so pretty to “watch” too.”

“Well, watch and talk. Tell me more. Tell me more about your “fetish”.”

“Well, Ginger got my sister a job dancing at a topless club. So pretty soon Kelly was a stripper herself and had moved out of the house. Kelly knew I was trying to save up money so I could go to Europe. So she suggested that I, too, might want to dance topless. Well, by know I “knew” I was an exhibitionist and figured this would be perfect work for me. A few weeks later I was stripping at the same circuit of clubs where Ginger and my sister danced. I was still living at home and mom and dad knew nothing about it, since I was stripping during the day for the most part. I was only nineteen at the time.

“Then I decided to move to San Francisco. There are lots of strip clubs there and I found plenty of work. Back home I was working these clubs where I danced topless but had to wear a G-string down below. But in San Francisco they had these raunchier clubs, where you could dance bottomless and really show everything off. Shit, at one club I was encouraged not only to dance and strip but to spread ‘em wide and masturbate in front of the paying customers. Some dancers had trouble with that, but not me. No one had to talk me into flaunting it like that in front of the fellas!

“I was making good money and then I found a way of making even more. I started to work in these peep booth parlors along with the stage shows. There you’d sit in a booth and a guy sits in a booth opposite you. A curtain comes up and there’s a window between you and him. He’s got his dick out, whacking it, while you show it off for him. And what they really like, and tip you big for, is when you fuck yourself with a dildo while they watch. I made sure to keep a couple on hand in the booth. Plus, with my tits being so huge, guys just loved to see me suck my own nipples. I mean, I saw all sorts of guys and all sorts of cocks. Most were nothing to write home about. But once in a while a good looking guy would come in with a big, nice cock and then I’d really get into it. He’d watch me and I’d watch him, and we’d really get off on one another. And I can’t tell you how many guys I saw shoot their loads in there. I saw enough semen for a lifetime splattering against that glass.”

“And you loved it, huh?” I said.

“Oh yeah!” Marcie said with a keen smile. “This wasn’t just work for me, stripping and showing it off in a peep booth . Remember, this was my “fetish” I was playing out. Not only was I grooving on it, but I was making damned good money doing it too! And I was living in this cool building on top of a hill. San Francisco is a pretty loose town, and my neighborhood was really free and easy, full of freaks, which naturally I liked. I was working the peep booths and stripping and that gave me plenty of outlet for my exhibitionist side. I was showing it off plenty! But my voyeur side needed to be fulfilled too. One thing I liked to do was watch the other strippers strip, especially when I worked the bottomless clubs where we were encouraged to spread them and play with ourselves in front of the customers. They used to have live sex at some of these clubs, I’d heard, but they’d stopped that years ago. One night though, after closing hours, the owner decided to take a chance and let me and this other stripper do a lesbian show, going down on each other and getting a little kinky in front of a crowd of hooting men and a couple of dykes too. I sure loved that!

Eventually, Pachacamac returned to his new piece of property, sitting cross-legged on the ground alongside Summer and Otoniel. Summer was not fond of the proximity, crunching herself further into a ball to prevent the chief from seeing more of her body.

Five others joined him, two men, and three women. Otoniel, after talking briefly with Pachacamac in Huaca, introduced Summer to Apotequil, Mancocapac, Chasca, and Yana. Apotequil was the village’s priest, Mancocapac was the chief’s brother, Chasca the chief’s wife, Yana the chief’s daughter, and Kulli a friend of Chasca. Mancocapac certainly let his eyes linger on Summer’s body, but the rest of the Huaca treated Summer’s nudity as a completely mundane thing. They ignored the fact that she was naked, interested in talking to her about America and what she thought of their little village.

Yana handed bowls to both Otoniel and Summer, filled with a strong-smelling mixture of what looked to be rice and beans. The spices on the dish were strong enough to make Summer’s eyes water, even without putting the food into her mouth.

“Tacu tacu,” Otoniel explained. “With llajhua. It’s rice and beans with a spicy tomato and pepper sauce.” The translator saw the skeptical look on the girl’s face. “It’s good.”

Summer wasn’t quite so sure. When it came to foods, and spicy foods in particular, she had never been very adventurous. Even though she’d been in Bolivia for two months now, most of her meals had consisted of bland American food that they’d carted down from Babylon, or Otoniel’s culinary concoctions that took Peruvian and Bolivian dishes and toned them down for the mild palettes of the biochemists. She had to admit, though, that she was hungry, and leaned forward to scoop some of the dish.

It was nearly impossibly eat and keep from being exposed. Choosing the lesser of two evils, Summer let her legs drop from her chest, crossing them to hide her pussy. Mancocapac certainly noticed the now-evident breasts, but everyone else kept eating with little fuss made.

The llajhua was excruciatingly spicy, and Summer immediately reached for the beverage that Chasca had set down in front of her. Though the liquid was not anything that Summer had ever tasted before, she swallowed it down quickly.

“Slow down,” Otoniel cautioned her. “That’s aqha, corn beer. It has alcohol in it.”

The group around the naked American burst into laughter, finding the sight of Summer desperately trying to get the spices out of her mouth outrageously funny. Yana, however, fetched another dish for her guest, setting down another bowl in front of her.

“No llajhua,” she explained to the blonde. None of the hot spices.

Dinner rolled on, Summer becoming less and less inhibited about her nudity as she drank more and more aqha. They talked about Hanan Pacha, Babylon, and every in between. Summer finally worked up the courage to ask the question she’d been thinking about since the afternoon.

“Where are all the children?”

Otoniel translated the question, and the entire group got quiet. Apotequil, in a serious tone, explained everything to Otoniel, meeting Summer’s eyes every now and then. Apparently, the women of Hanan Pacha, as well other surrounding Huaca villages, had not been able to get pregnant for some time. There were exceptions, of course, but the Huaca lived their lives afraid that they were being punished by the fertility goddess Sipusiki.

Summer, as a biologist, doubted that a native god had anything to do with infertility among the Huaca. Could it have been the water? Was the Clemente polluted with something? Was it their diet? She had a dozen different possible explanations, but there was little she good do but speculate.

By the end of dinner, Summer had a pleasant buzz, though she was far from drunk. Every now and then, she would forget about her nudity, but her inhibitions always came back. Her breasts were out there for anyone to see, her pussy on view every time she shifted her legs. Mancocapac, in particular, seemed to follow every shift, every movement made by the girl. Pachacamac and Apotequil weren’t immune from the lure of naked white flesh, but they were less obvious in their glances, pretending as if nothing was out of the ordinary at this little dinner party.

Otoniel seemed to be having more difficulty, however. The translator made every effort to maintain eye contact with Summer, forcing himself to ignore the rest of her body. If Mancocapac was making her uncomfortable with his lascivious peeping, Otoniel was making her uncomfortable with his lack of such looks. Every time that he turned to talk to her, Summer was reminded that she was naked by his discomposure. Of all the men around the circle that night, Summer had to say that she felt the least awkward with the chief and the priest, both of whom were calm and casual.

Eventually, dinner ended, and the small gathering around naked, captive biologist dispersed. Chasca and Yana took the dirty dishes down to the Clemente, and Mancocapac said goodnight and disappeared down the street. Otoniel, giving a few last minute words of encouragement to Summer, excused himself with Kulli. He and Summer, together, had decided over dinner that he didn’t need to stay with her all night. Kulli had extended an invitation into her home, offering to let the mestizo a place to stay in exchange for a small price. What that price was, Summer didn’t know. But Kulli’s hut was only about seventy-five feet away, meaning that Otoniel would be within earshot the entire night.

Apotequil and Pachacamac migrated a short distance away, settling down in a dark shadow not far from where Chasca and Yana were washing out bowls. Though Summer couldn’t make out much more of them than their silhouettes, she could hear the low tones of the two men, murmuring back and forth to each other in their native tongue.

Summer herself wasn’t looking forward to sleeping outside that night. She moved closer to the waterfall pool, sat down and began to clutch her knees to her knees to her chest. Her more private areas were on display in the direction of the pool, but as there was no one currently out there, that thought didn’t concern her all that much. No, what bothered her more than anything was the dark. The sun had long since set, but up to that point she’d been surrounded by her translator and the Huaca. Even being naked around them, awkward though it may have been, seemed preferable to the spooky shadows, the sounds of the surrounding jungle, and the over-imaginative mind of the biologist herself.

A soft padding of footsteps began to approach Summer, and she readied herself to scream for Otoniel. But instead of Mancocapac coming back for a more physical examination of the blonde, Summer found herself staring up at Apotequil. For some reason, the priest’s face seemed kind and trustworthy, and her racing heart began to calm. He showed her a big smile, and held out his hand. In it was a piece of twine, similar the one Pachacamac had given her earlier as a necklace. The piece of twine was significantly longer, however, and instead of jaguar teeth, there was a teardrop-shaped piece of metal attached as a pendant.

“Do I have to wear this, too?” Summer asked, annoyance plainly evident in the tone of her voice.

Apotequil didn’t understand what she was saying, and she didn’t understand the next few words that he spoke to her. But Summer managed to ascertain that he wanted her to stand so that he could put on the new piece of jewelry. Rather than fight him, Summer complied. Apotequil seemed honest enough; she didn’t feel that she had much to worry about from him.

The twine was longer, Summer soon found out, because it was meant as a belly-chain, and not a necklace. The Indian man fastened it at the base of the blonde’s naked back, the string hanging loosely over her naked hips. The pendant hung a little too low for Summer’s liking, finding itself mixed up in her wild patch of pubic hair. Apotequil came around her, gave her a once over, and then turned back to where he had come from.

Summer was puzzled by what the belly-chain was for. The jaguar teeth necklace was to mark her as Pachacamac’s property. She understood that. But the belly-chain and pendant were a mystery. She stood, staring down at the pendant for a few seconds, and puzzled over the possible meaning.

Apotequil had rejoined his chief a few dozen yards from Summer’s position. Unlike before, though, she could now make out their faces in the light being cast from Pachacamac’s pipe. Summer sat herself back down in front of the pool, trying to act as normal as possible. But every casual glance down the shore of the pool towards the river was met by two sets of eyes staring back up at her. Apotequil and Pachacamac suddenly seemed more interested in their day’s prize.

Summer, oddly enough, experienced a dichotomy of emotions at the thought of the eyes on her body. She was at once disgusted by their perversion and embarrassed for herself, but also a little of some other emotion. Slightly shocked at herself, Summer had to admit that there was some part of her that felt a little turned on. She had never been the center of attention in high school, nor in college. She had always been the brain, the smart girl, and the good girl. It wasn’t that Summer wasn’t good looking - she was gorgeous - but she had always lacked that spark, that flirtiness and confidence in her body that attracted men to women not quite as attractive.

Now, thousands of miles from home, she was the focus of most of this little village. Even now, the eyes of the two most important men in Hanan Pacha were concentrated on her body. On her smooth, naked skin. On her round tits, and perky little nipples. On her tanned legs. On the pendant, hanging so close to a place so forbidden.

It was balmy in Hanan Pacha, warm enough that Summer wouldn’t have to worry about being too cold to sleep. But her own body suddenly felt like it was radiating a significant amount of heat. She felt hot, even, as if the temperature along the pool had suddenly risen five or six degrees. She sat down in the dirt, her arms supporting her upper body behind her, and crossed her legs.

Down the shore of the pool, four eyes focused on her body through the dark.

Summer tried not to think about the chief and the priest. It had been a long, hard day. And it was going to be a few more long, hard days.

Was Pachacamac hard? What about the priest? What was going through their minds at that moment? Were they thinking about being wrapped with Summer’s body? Were they wondering what it was like to be with a white girl? These questions rang through Summer’s mind, as she herself formed mental pictures to accompany them.

She shook her head, wondering where all these thoughts were coming from. She leaned back, uncrossed her legs, and laid flat on her back, her knees still raised. Staring up at the stars, Summer began thinking about Walter and Russ, speeding along dirt roads and overgrown streets all the way to Guayaramerin. They would have been hard-pressed for time, even if the roads had been paved and clear, but things were hardly ever that easy in the far corner of Bolivia. But even as she thought of her friends, her mind drifted back upon everything that happened that day. She had undressed in a field. She had paraded naked through the center of this small, Indian town.

Back down the shore, the two men’s faces, lit from the pipe, were still staring in her direction. They exchanged a few words between them, and then Apotequil stood. He strolled casually back along the shoreline to where Summer was laying in the dirt.

Summer’s mind was still adrift, and she found herself absentmindedly fingering her necklace, running her hands beneath the twine and along the bare skin of her neck. She hadn’t even realized that she was doing it, until she straightened up at the prospect of the priest reapproaching her. Apotequil grinned at the girl, crouched down along side her, and motioned for her to roll over. He wanted the belly-chain back.

Summer complied, rolling onto her right hip and allowing the Huaca man to unfasten the piece of jewelry. After he had done so, she rolled back into her original position, staring up at Apotequil and the night sky beyond him. He smiled again, stood, and walked back to his chief with the pendant in his hand. Summer stared after him, the mental picture of his body wrapped with hers still fresh in her mind.

***

Summer awoke the next morning with a shock, feeling a hand on her naked shoulder.

She was lying on her right side, her legs curled up towards her body, with her back facing the village behind her. Despite not having a pillow, or a sleeping mat, or even clothes, Summer had slept relatively well. Throughout most her time in Bolivia, Summer had struggled to fall asleep each night, finding it difficult to rest in the heat and mugginess of Valle de los Reyes. But last night, whether it was because of the alcohol or the lack of covering, Summer had slipped easily into unconsciousness, and hadn’t awoken until she felt the hand on her shoulder.

Jerking away instinctively, Summer rolled to face whoever it was that was touching her. Her left leg was tangled in the chain, but the biologist put enough distance between herself and the unknown person to allow her to turn around and see who it was.

Otoniel.

“Relax, Doctor Monroe,” the translator tried to calm her. “It is only me.”

Summer’s heart was beating fast, her bare chest heaving in a panic. For a few seconds, all she had been able to concentrate on was that someone strange was touching her. Now, the realities of her nudity set in.

Covering her tits with her forearm, Summer asked, “What time is it?” She was sitting on her ass in the dirt, her pale flesh covered with sand and dust. Her hair was a tangled mess, filled with more of the same. She brushed dirt from her right cheek as she looked to the mestizo, awaiting his answer.

“It is five o’clock,” Otoniel replied. “I am leaving for the camp, unless you want me to stay.”

It was dark out, the sun still beyond the horizon. Despite that, Summer could see a few people milling about in the street of the village, carrying pots full of water or various farming tools.

Summer shook the cobwebs from her head, still more asleep than awake. “No, no. Check on Walter. I’ll feel a lot better if I know that he’s okay.”

Footsteps began to patter closer to the American and the translator, and Summer looked beyond Otoniel to a familiar face - Kulli. But Kulli was wearing something that was familiar as well - Summer’s white polo shirt. There was an exchange between Otoniel and Kulli, the Huaca woman giving a small package of food to Otoniel for his hike back to the Ambrosia camp. She smiled politely at Summer, but left the two outsiders alone after she had finished her business with the man.

Summer’s eyes asked Otoniel what she wanted to know.

“Your shirt,” Otoniel answered without ever hearing the question. “Nothing with the Huaca is free. I traded your shirt for a sleeping mat in Kulli’s home.”

The blonde stared after the Indian woman, dressed in an Ambrosia Pharmaceuticals polo shirt and a thin, native skirt.

“I’ll pick you up more clothes from camp,” Otoniel assured her. “And a couple of other things that I can trade with, so I’m not relying on your clothes again.”

Summer nodded. Her mind drifted from the polo shirt back to her colleagues, who were racing toward Guayaramerin at that point. They’d probably been driving all night, afraid to go too fast in fear of slamming into a downed tree across the road, but afraid to go too slow in fear of losing Walter. Anqas, Punchau, and Russ were doing everything in their power to keep Walter alive, and Summer was back in Hanan Pacha, worried about a native woman wearing her shirt.

“Don’t tell Russ about this,” Summer said slowly.

“Que?” Otoniel asked, confused.

“Don’t tell him,” Summer repeated. Her eyes locked with Otoniel’s, and she repeated herself one more time, “don’t tell him. He’s got enough to worry about with Walter, and the last thing he needs right now is one more burden. He can’t turn around. He can’t send someone back. There’s nothing he can do, and it’s just one more thing to worry about.”

“But Doctor Monroe-”

“I’m serious, Otoniel.” Summer looked down at her naked body, and then back up at the translator. “My self-consciousness really doesn’t seem that important, given Walter’s situation.”

Otoniel nodded silently.

“Besides,” the blonde offered weakly, “everyone in town has already seen me naked, right? What difference does it make if they get a second or third look?”

The translator was obviously conflicted, but Summer knew that deep down, he realized that she was right. They exchanged a few more words, Otoniel making sure that she would be okay with him gone, and then parted ways. As the first hints of sunshine began to appear beyond the eastern end of Hanan Pacha, the translator was already making his way into the jungle and back towards their camp.

The sun eventually broke the horizon, and the village came alive. While early risers had already gotten water and set out into the fields, the rest of the Huaca were only now joining them. Women, some of them as naked as Summer from the waist up, trudged towards the pool with buckets and jugs. Many of them waded right in, some of them dipping their hair and washing parts of their body. As they passed Summer, many of the women shot her nervous smiles, as well as the word, “Raphi!”

After a short while, Summer realized that “raphi” must have meant “hello,” and began to respond in kind. This elicited a few giggles from the young women, and a few more complicated responses that Summer hadn’t been expecting.

Still sitting in the dirt next to Pachacamac’s hut, the naked blonde watched the town come alive. Men, dressed in native robes or more Western clothes departed from their homes out in the direction of the fields. A few others went about work around their houses, casting occasional glances down the road towards the American girl by the pool. By that point, Summer had dropped her arm from her chest, knowing that modesty was simply impossible, and that confidence was really the only way to get through however long she was going to be stuck in Hanan Pacha.

The odd blend of excitement and embarrassment from the previous night hadn’t completely subsided. Though it seemed perverse, Summer had to come to grips with the fact that a part of her was somewhat excited about the nonchalant glimpses that the men took of her body. She, Summer Monroe, was not just a brain. She wasn’t a biologist. She wasn’t a college graduate, or PhD. She was a set of tits and pussy, to be looked upon with nothing but lust.

These men didn’t know her. They’d never talked to her. All they had to judge her on were her physical features. And the attraction that they showed gave Summer some bit of pride, made her feel sexier than usual.

All this, of course, in addition to being mortified about sitting naked in a public place, moored to the ground with an old metal chain and a combination lock. No, this was not some sort of erotic dream; it was a shame-filled, uncomfortable situation that Summer wanted over.

Going to the bathroom, for instance, left Summer divided on what to do. The simple - and least embarrassing - solution was to wade out into the pool, and to relieve herself under the cover of the water. But even though the women of Hanan Pacha were rinsing themselves off in the waterfall’s pool, Summer didn’t think that she could piss in the town’s drinking water. Instead, she waited for the least amount of eyes upon her, walked as far away as she could from both the town and the pool, and squatted. A small group of giggling twenty-something year old girls caught her, but Summer escaped this time mostly unseen.

The morning passed by slowly, and Summer spent most of it on the shore of the pool, dangling her feet in the water and sharing smiles with the women who came down to gather water. She became more confident in calling out hello (”Raphi!”), but most of the women kept their distance from the chief’s new pet.

Chasca, dressed in nothing more than a blanket wrapped around her body, finally joined Summer an hour or so after sun-up. Neither woman could understand what the other said, so they kept quiet, for the most part. Chasca made an effort to teach Summer a few words - qacha was dried fruit and t’anta the bread that Summer had for breakfast. She didn’t drink the water (yaku) directly from the pool, as she saw the Huaca do, but instead dipped Otoniel’s water bottle in, and then followed the water with iodine tablets.

The two women, one dressed in a blanket, the other completely nude, sat on the shore of the waterfall’s pool for some time. They were mostly silent, but every now and then Chasca would point at something and say its name. Summer kept up with the game as best she could, picking up the Huaca vocabulary about seventy percent of the time. “Alqo” was “dog.” “Chaka” was “leg.” “Wasi” was “house.” For a short while, Summer’s concern about her nudity faded away. Until the word “raka.”

“Raka,” Chasca repeated, pointing in the direction of Summer’s naked crotch.

Summer, a bit concerned by the offhand way that the Indian woman was pointing at her vagina, crossed her legs.

“Raka,” the chief’s wife repeated, obviously waiting for Summer to repeat the word.

“Raka,” Summer conceded, to Chasca’s delight. The word for “vagina.”

Chasca stood suddenly, as if the word had triggered something in her memory. Leaving the naked blonde by the shore of the pool, Chasca hurried inside her home. She returned a few seconds later with a pair of old scissors and her daughter. Yana was dressed in a similar fashion to her mother, wearing nothing but a blanket wrapped around her body. While Yana went around the back of the hut, Chasca grabbed the blonde girl by the arm, and pulled her up off her ass.

Behind the hut, Yana disrobed. Naked as Summer, the girl tossed her blanket over a long pole that stuck out of the corner of the back wall at a right angle, creating a screen to hide her nudity from the women further down the shore of the pool. There was a similar pole on near side of the hut, and as Chasca and Summer joined the chief’s bare daughter behind he hut, Chasca similarly shed her blanket, hanging it as her daughter did over the other pole. The three women, all dressed in nothing more than a few odd pieces of jewelry, were completely hidden from three sides. Their makeshift booth was open only towards the pool, and no one along the shore of the pool, either towards the Clemente or away from it, could see inside.

Summer was a bit nervous about what was to happen, cut off from the rest of the village with the naked mother and daughter. Both women were easily the most attractive Huaca women in the village, with or without their clothing. Yana couldn’t have been any older than eighteen - her small, firm breasts gave away her youth. Her body was pocked with a few birthmarks here or there, in contrast to the plain white skin of the American girl not far from her.

Chasca herself was probably only thirty-four or thirty-five, Summer guessed. She’d likely given birth to Anqas when she was just a teenager herself, younger than Yana was now. Her body was still in its prime, and the chief’s wife could have passed for Yana’s older sister, instead of her mother.

Both women had surprisingly smooth legs and well-groomed pubic areas, Summer noted without meaning to. Though Summer had shaved her legs only the morning before, such grooming habits had mostly fallen by the wayside in the months that she’d been in Bolivia. She hadn’t been trying to impress any of her companions. There were days at a time when Summer hadn’t even bothered shower back at the Ambrosia camp, getting more and more ripe as the week went on. Her legs had been shaved before coming up to Hanan Pacha, but if her pubic hair was a bit unkempt, she hadn’t planned on it being on display for anyone.

Behind the hut and inside the provisional privacy screens was a wide array of pots, buckets, and jugs, some filled with water, some not. Yana took a seat on an overturned bucket, found herself a piece of cloth hanging on a hook overhead, and began washing her body with water from a large barrel. There was a single bar of Western-looking soap in a dish next to her, and it wasn’t long before the girl had lathered up.

Meanwhile, Chasca had guided Summer to a small, metal drum towards the outer edges of the temporary shower stall. Summer sat, as she seemed to be expected to do, and was handed a cloth similar to Yana’s, as well as a small cup.

To be fair, this particular “shower” wasn’t much different to those that she’d been taking back at the camp. There was, of course, no running water anywhere in the Valle de los Reyes, and bucket showers were the norm. Still, Summer wasn’t quite at easy with the nonchalant nudity demonstrated by the mother and daughter here with her, who were both calmly and casually cleaning themselves.

But the point of the shower, of course, was Summer’s “raka.” Obviously, the American’s ungroomed pussy had caught the eyes of the chief’s wife, and she intended to make Summer do away with it. When the blonde girl was handed the scissors halfway through the showering session, she knew what Chasca wanted her to do.

Had it been Pachacamac or Apotequil who had made the request, had it been the day earlier, Summer would have refused. She was here in Hanan Pacha, after all, being held as livestock against her will. What did she care about how her snatch looked? But Chasca was harder to refuse. The chief’s wife had brought her breakfast, and then spent close to an hour that morning with her, teaching her a few dozen words in Huaca. Chasca had spent time with Summer when the girl had felt isolated and embarrassed. And even now, as Chasca handed the scissors to Summer, she was only doing so with the intent of being nice. It wasn’t an order. It wasn’t even a request. From the look in Chasca’s eyes, she could tell that Chasca was only handing her the scissors because she thought it might be what Summer wanted.

And so, perched precariously on the edge of the overturned drum, Summer began snipping at that hair above her pussy, her “raka.” She didn’t go right to the skin, but she did go far enough that the outline of her labia could be seen through the light blonde hair.

The shower and grooming session complete, Chasca was the first to take her side of the screens down. Still soaking wet, she dried herself with the blanket, wrapping it around her body, and headed back around the hut with a smile towards Summer. Yana did the same, and Summer suddenly was on display again, being peered at from down the shore of the pool, as a group of old women did their laundry in the Clemente.

For twenty minutes, Summer hadn’t felt as awkward about being as naked as she was. For twenty minutes, she’d only been as naked as the two other women, and only seen by the two other women. But now, clean and trimmed, she was again out in the open, livestock chained to the ground, owned by the chief of Hanan Pacha.

***

Most of the day was relatively uneventful, and less stomach turning than Summer expected. Most of the village’s men were in the fields, or out hunting, or off and out of Hanan Pacha for one reason or another. Sure, there were women everywhere, women who stared at Summer’s naked body more openly than many of the men had. But while her nudity was embarrassing, Summer wasn’t as afraid of being approached in Otoniel’s absence. Pachacamac and Apotequil both floated around town, but neither man gave Summer the same perverted looks as Mancocapac had done the night before.

There was young boy, probably only six or seven, that bothered her for part of the day. He’d run up to Pachacamac’s house, pull on Summer’s chain, and then scamper away before Summer could do anything. She was livestock, all right. After the boy, whose name was Oqe, had done this seven or eight times, Apotequil finally caught him, gave him a spanking and a stern warning, and sent him on his way. Oqe left Summer alone for the rest of the day.

But Oqe was an exception in Hanan Pacha, and as Summer sat with Yana at lunchtime, she remembered her questions the night before. Where were all the children? Oqe was one of the very few children in the village, and he had amused himself alone for the better part of an hour, running up and teasing the naked American girl.

Summer looked over at Yana, wondering why Yana didn’t have children, didn’t have a husband. Chasca, Summer guessed, had at this point in her life given birth to two children, Anqas and Yana, but Yana was still childless. Yes, Yana was still young by American standards, but a lot of women her age already had three or four-year-old children in San Eduardo and Guayaramerin.

Sipusiki, the goddess of fertility, had apparently laid a curse upon the Huaca, preventing them from having many children. Summer wondered if it was just that way in Hanan Pacha, or if other Huaca villages in the Oriente were suffering from the same “curse.” From what Otoniel had told her, it sounded as if the Huaca from all over Valle de los Resyes had been afflicted with Sipusiki’s anger. Summer chewed her lunch, speaking up every now and then to say the names of her food in Huaca, but let her mind wander over the possibilities.

Was it the water? If so, then she or Russ would have found something weeks ago, when they were looking for oddities in Valle de los Reyes that could explain the tree frogs’ extraordinary growth rates.

Was it their diet? Summer wasn’t sure how different the Huaca diet was from other tribes in Bolivia, but she doubted it could have been too different. And as she had noted earlier, there didn’t seem to be a problem with reproduction rates in the Quechua towns nearby.

It puzzled her, because she couldn’t think of or see anything that might cause a drop-off in birth rates. The vegetation was the same as in San Eduardo, the diets were similar to those in San Eduardo.

As the sun began to set to the west, the men of Hanan Pacha began to drift back into town. They carried fruits, vegetables, and tools with them, out of the fields and down the main street to their houses. Their eyes found Summer’s naked body down the street, still chained to where she had been that morning. The same mix of embarrassment and excitation that had hit her the previous night hit Summer again, and though she felt a bit perverted, Summer again had to admit that there was a part of her that was getting turned on.

She shifted her mind from all that, however. Instead of focusing on the eyes that were roaming her naked body, Summer walked out into the pool behind Pachacamac’s hut, letting the cool water wash away the sweat and grit that she had accumulated that day from sitting in the dirt under the hot Bolivian sun. The chain dragged behind her, but was long enough to allow Summer to walk right up to the cliff wall. The pool was shallow, never getting so deep that the surface of the water reached past the bottom of Summer’s rib cage. The bottom of the pool was surprisingly soft, as well, covered in a cushiony layer of silt.

Summer stuck her head under the waterfall, allowing the water to run down her back into the pool. Despite the forty-foot drop from the cliff above, the water didn’t hurt as it contacted the blonde’s body. It was slightly cold, but in comparison to the humidity that had dogged Summer all day, it was a refreshing break. She ran her hands through her long, blonde hair, letting the water rinse it out, as she turned to face the village from beneath the waterfall.

At that point, she heard a whistle. Not a catcall, but rather the whistle of someone trying to get her attention. Standing on the shore of the pool was the priest, Apotequil, with the belly-chain from the night before in his hands. Summer wasn’t eager to leave the waterfall behind, but she followed her summons, wading her way back towards the priest.

Seated on the shore of the Clemente, a few dozen yards away, was a group of five or six young men, probably the same age as Yana. They all pretended to be rinsing their tools and talking casually among themselves, but their gazes kept returning to the naked blonde in the pool. Summer gave them all a sheepish grin when she caught them looking, bashful once again about her state of undress.

Apotequil met her three-quarters of the way back from the falls, her recently trimmed pussy just barely breaking the surface of the water. He smiled at her congenially, gently taking her by the left elbow and turning her away from him, away from the young men, and away from Hanan Pacha. His arms carefully wrapped around her abdomen as he handed the twine to himself, letting the silver pendant dangle down in front of Summer’s cunt. As Apotequil tied the belly-chain behind the blonde’s back, the twine again hung below her waistline, resting on her hips.

Task completed, Apotequil patted the girl on the outside of her right buttock, signaling to her that she was all set. Summer was a little taken aback by the unexpected contact, but not as bothered by it as she should have been. He was an old man, Summer told herself. He’s not a real threat.

As if to drive the point home, Summer turned to face the priest and kissed him on the cheek. Shooting a teasing glance towards the young men on the shore of Clemente, Summer slowly fell back into the pool behind her, submerging her body in its entirety below the water.

“Why didn’t I think of this earlier,” Summer muttered to herself as she swam backwards towards the waterfall. Instead of parading around on the shore, exposing herself to the entire Huaca village, she could hide here in the pool, letting the water cover her naked body.

As she kicked her legs, the silver pendant repeatedly bounced against her vagina, rubbing up against the lips each time. Summer toyed with the idea of shifting it, but as it happened for the fifth or sixth time, she decided against it. The belly-chain, with the pendant hanging off of it, was almost like clothing - like a loincloth that didn’t really cover all that much. And, though she had battled against the occasional perverted thought all day, Summer had to admit that it felt nice to have something make contact with her pussy. It was wrong. It was deviant. And it was naughty.

The young men by the Clemente still hadn’t left, making Summer guess that this must be the longest they’d ever spent cleaning their farming tools after a day’s work. The thought made her laugh a little bit, though she was far from comfortable with the staring. Six young men were all looking in her direction, waiting for her to break the plane of the water again, waiting to get another glimpse of her tits.

She wondered how many of their dicks were erect.

Her long, blonde hair floated in a puddle around her as she swam into the waterfall. Cool water came down forcefully on her head, clouding her vision but allowing her an escape from the eyes across the way.

Shocking even herself, Summer rose out of the water suddenly, her nipples completely erect as she stood under the cascading water. This’ll give the little perverts a treat, she thought to herself as she guided her hands down her naked skin, from her the base of her neck, across her breasts, and down the front of her body. They disappeared below the water, and Summer let the men imagine where her hands went from there.

She turned away from them, allowing them to only see two-thirds of her naked back, and pulled her long hair in front of her.

“What am I doing?” Summer asked herself, suddenly aware that she had been putting on a pornographic show for the young Huaca. The last thing that she needed to do right now, alone and chained up in a Bolivian village, was to tease a bunch of horny young men. She glided backwards into the water, preventing them from having another look at her breasts.

The pendant again brushed against her pussy, and Summer was almost overcome with the need to follow it with her fingers. Masturbation had always calmed her down, always let her relax. Summer smiled as she remembered Organic Chemistry 35 in college, and how stressed she’d been throughout the semester. At that point in her life, she was single, dedicated to her courses and her grades, and the only way she knew to relax herself was through masturbation. She had been a fiend that term.

Summer wondered if that was what she needed now, to calm herself from the fact that she’d been naked for over twenty-four hours now, on exhibit for the Huaca. She had to admit that the idea sounded appealing, if more than a little infeasible. Nudity was one thing, but Summer certainly wasn’t going to go through the humiliation of getting herself off in front of an audience. Even out here, in the pool, it would be plainly evident what she was doing.

She spun around as she paddled around the pool. The men were gone, but they had been replaced by others, a little older, but no less curious about the naked American. The sun had set, but there were still lingering red and orange hues overhead, casting long shadows across the Huaca that Summer could see.

The jostling silver pendant wouldn’t let Summer forget its presence, though. It had probably been at least three weeks since the last time Summer had brought herself to orgasm. She’d only done it three or four times during their stay in Valle de los Reyes, usually preferring to wait until after dark, when she was in her own tent, before silently touching her clit.

But three weeks ago, Walter, Russ, and Otoniel had all taken a daylong expedition off into the jungle, leaving Summer alone at the camp. That morning, taking advantage of her solitude, Summer slipped back to her tent, slipped out of her skirt, and slipped her fingers into her pussy. For Summer, the best release had always been the loudest release, and for the first time in months, she’d been allowed to make as much noise as she wanted. She held back some, however, afraid that her colleagues might be near by and afraid for her safety. Even still, Summer had the best orgasm she’d had in Bolivia.

That had been three weeks ago, though. And while the fact that her arousal now embarrassed her, Summer had to admit that she wanted an orgasm. Bad.

She moved to adjust the pendant, but used the motion to dig the silver piece of jewelry into the top of slit, giving it one long, hard shove against her clitoris. Summer would have killed for more, and had even begun convincing herself that, under the cover of night, she could have gotten away with it.

But she needed to control herself. She needed to calm down. She needed to behave.

“Doctor Monroe!”

Summer’s dreamy thoughts of self-pleasure melted away, as she flipped around and saw that Otoniel had returned. Apotequil, looking displeased with the return of the translator, was standing a few feet behind him, and gazing off towards the blonde girl.

The arousal didn’t disappear completely as Summer swam towards the edge of the pool, but it gave way to stronger feelings of awkwardness. She could have stood and just walked towards Otoniel, but that would mean exposing herself once again, and she wasn’t entirely looking forward to doing so just yet. So, despite the fact that her knees grazed against the soft dirt at the bottom of the pool with each kick, Summer kept swimming.

By the time that she had come a few feet from the shore, however, swimming had become a little ridiculous. She pulled herself up in the water, though she didn’t get out. Instead, she sat on her knees about three feet out, the water just deep enough to cover up to the twine of her belly-chain. Her pussy, and the pendant that was set in front of it, were both below water, but her breasts were plainly visible to Otoniel, Apotequil, and anyone else that bothered to look in her direction. Soaking wet, water dribbled down her skin in the space between them, but also dripped from her still-erect nipples.