LISA vs LUANNE - CHAPTER 12
By HGHunt
A woman’s body
perceived from a micro-scale is like a beautiful landscape. Luanne’s body if
scanned from north to south presented gorgeous terrain; tall round mountains
with firm peaks pointing heavenward, smooth rolling hills and plains descending
southward, large fields of amber grain descending even further towards rich
swampland which in turn bordered a very beautiful cave.
The rich golden forest of pubic hairs that adorned Luanne’s crotch, while
dormant most of the time, came to life when the hormones of their owner crossed
an erotic threshold. Today had been one of those days for Anika. Anika was one
very long, lean, and beautiful wand of hair. The hibernation of her life was
unknown to her, her only sentience revolved around the sexual encounters of her
owner. Anika was so much like all of her surrounding forest brethren,
flaxen-hued, long, firmly planted in the fertile surroundings. Anika relished
the camaraderie of her fellow golden hairs, enjoying the way they enhanced
Luanne’s encounters, the way Luanne tended them like a master gardener,
occasionally trimming a few that got “out of hand”, but more often just cooing
over, fingering, toying with, brushing, and combing them to make them feel so
beautiful. Her sister-hairs were equally riled up today. Anika had felt upon her
arousal from her deep slumber that today was special. The soft but insistent
murmurings of her fellow hairs informed her that today’s encounter likely
represented a watershed moment for their clan.
Anika was one of the “guard-hairs”. She grew low along the border of the swamp,
just outside of the deep crevasse. Along with her neighbor-hairs, she felt a
great degree of pride in her role as a sexual soldier for her general. She could
be counted on to enhance the pleasure of a visiting missile, always reliable in
the way she would bend towards the plump missile that came cave-visiting every
so often, stroking the pulsing smoothness of and causing great delight.
Ninety-nine percent; that was her winning percentage. She, along with her flaxen
soldier cohorts, was proud of that ratio. Instinctively she knew her role and
whenever one of those long missiles came to visit she did everything she could
to ensure that a full deposit was left behind, providing a rich fertilizer for
the deep cave, that would in turn, nourish the swamp and the entire rest of the
landscape. “Job Well Done!” she felt, whenever the soothing touch she provided,
along with her mates, promoted that exciting deposit. Occasionally such a
deposit would set off an earthquake in the terrain around her. Large jolts of
energy would flow outward from a deep fault line buried beneath the cave or
sometimes from the little crest of a hill that projected up from the fields of
yellow, just before the swamp sunk low towards the cave. Well, truth be told,
the earthquakes whose epicenter was the little hill above the swamp were far
more prevalent than the deep quakes, but Anika, unafraid, actually relished
both. They were an affirmation of that “Job Well Done” glow she felt just before
she retired back into hibernation after Luanne’s encounters.
Anika was adept at her job, both in the massaging expertise she managed when her
owner called on her for enhancing the role of pleasure, but also in the role of
foot soldier. While not prevalent, Anika knew that part of her job, along with
her contemporaries, was to protect her owner’s terrain from invaders. Property
rights were strong where she came from, and while many visitors were friendly to
her neighborhood, there had been a few times that unwanted guests probed nearby,
sometimes even looking to enter the private cave that was reserved for friends
of the owner. In such instances, if the unwanted guest or invader came within
reach of Anika she did her noble best to prevent attack and to ward off the
invader, whether it is digits, missiles, firm lips, or even another forested
swamp.
Today was a day of conflicting emotions for Anika. She had been aroused now for
hours, much longer than usual, and while the duality of motivations that seeped
into her consciousness through her roots was occasionally confusing, she managed
to perform her role with great aplomb. Since her roots were firmly planted deep
in the plump ridge that bordered the lower swamp, she didn’t know all the
individual hairs that grew further up the swamp, or especially any of the masses
of golden soldiers that flourished further north in the plains, she nonetheless
felt a total oneness with them when it came to enhancing and protecting her
owner. They shared in the arousal that had started earlier in the afternoon.
They had shared in the low excitement of the trip to the store, changing
clothes, sipping wine, and other preliminaries of their owner.
Another level of engagement soon followed. Awareness of the owner’s nemesis
grew. This wasn’t going to be a day of solo pleasure. This was definitely going
to be a day of total commitment. No half-hearted involvement would suffice.
Anika felt as if she had been preparing her whole life for this day. She knew it
would be a watershed moment. She ached for the thrill of victory that would
come. She dreamt of the glory she would share with her soldier-mates when Luanne
achieved her goal.
When the events began to unfold, Anika grew aware of another landscape nearby.
She recognized a field across the way, a field that grew large masses of dark
hairs, south of large mountains, like her own terrain. She sensed a swamp, full
of rich liquid fertilizer, similar to what her own swamp so often oozed out
around her roots. She sensed a deep cave that harbored a sense of doom, silently
yelling across the void between them that her cave was deeper, more fertile,
more enticing, and surrounded by more lush forest than her own. It sparked
Anika’s ire to know that anther cave was challenging her own. She recognized the
forest of surrounding bristles were alert, looking in her direction, harboring
an ill-wind towards her and her fellow soldiers.
As creepy as this realization was for Anika, she felt subtly re-charged by
another feeling, less foreboding, that crept into her long lush length from her
roots. It was a feeling of desire, not repulsion. She knew her owner was not
going to shy away from this encounter, no matter the devilish intent she so
fervently felt. No, this encounter was going to be for a duality of success. It
was going to be a war between feminine terrains, in all its heinous violence,
but it was going to be a search for pleasure too. Since Anika had so adeptly
performed both roles over the years, she was confident she could do the same
today, even if there was conflicting motivation.
So it was that when she and her army friends found the battle underway, that she
gloriously engaged. She had been given her orders for the battle and she was
ready, even though she felt that this war might need more than one battle to
settle the outcome.
Anika’s first entanglement occurred on the couch and the flaxen army assumed an
immediate dominant role, Anika and her sisterhood challenging the dark army;
weaving together, darting into the invading swamp for short forays of
encroachment, pulling back to protect her own swamp when called on, the sounds
of the battle roaring in her ears. She was so used to the taste of her owner’s
lubrication that it was a real shock, for a few moments, to become immersed in a
sea of foreign lubrication. Surprised by its smooth deliciousness, it was only
upon recalling that it came from an enemy, that she became repulsed by the stew
that bubbled out of the enemy cave. Often she would be pinched hard between
opposing layers of swampy prominence, thick labia with their sprouting armies of
resilient hairs, gliding smoothly between them from all the lubrication. But
whenever the situation would allow, Anika would seek out an enemy, engage it in
a duel, trying to ensnare the other and yank it out by its roots. It was clear
from the enemies’ actions that the feelings of ire and hatred were mutual. She
recoiled as one after another of the invading dark hordes tried to snare her and
yank her out of her home. Usually the rolling terrains would not leave much time
for this and she would find herself sliding away, replacing her motivation for
war with motivation for pleasuring. It was here that she, for the first time,
found the very plump pink knob growing above the enemy swamp. Its firm
protuberance seemed at least as daunting as her owner’s hill. She could tell the
two hills had met, from all the commotion around her, the whole landscape of
battle was transmitted and absorbed through her roots. She knew the two had met
without quarter and that nothing yet had been established. She relished her
opportunity to massage Lisa’s clit with all her golden beauty.
Back and forth the battle waged, forests of brown and yellow grain, plump knobs
butting together, those same knobs often finding ways to slide into the enemy
cave, lush low mounds of plump ridges peeling apart so that the succulent swamps
and deep caves could try to swallow each other, and roiling hormones surging
into the arena to urge on the combatants. Anika absorbed all of this as she
threw in her best effort at every opportunity. One of those forays against her
dark hairy counterparts, during the twisting and pulling, found her face to face
with a beautiful dark figure, as feminine as a long silky brunette hair could
be. Her name was Antonetta. Antonetta was everything in dark that Anika was in
gold; lithe, graceful, long and tight and clearly bent on mayhem against the
yellow horde.
Anika singled out Antonetta as the epitome of evil; deserving of only one fate,
annihilation. In the instant it took her to recognize Antonetta as an adversary
to be despised and tortured, she felt the reciprocity emanate from Antonetta
just as powerfully. Their mutual hatred became singular. The focus narrowed from
the larger battle to the personal one. The flow of time stood still, with the
events playing out in only seconds, but the battle between Antonetta and Anika
filled their mind as though it lasted an entire lifetime.
Anika would do her part to win the battle. She would defeat Antonetta.
The two lanky figures snaked together; Anika grating at the awful feel of
Antonetta’s winding touch. The gooey liquid that permeated the battlefield
covered them both from top to bottom, but it didn’t prevent either from snaring
the other firmly in her grasp. Anika knew what she wanted. She would twist
Antonetta this way and that so vigorously and so violently that she would be
unhinged from her owner and then Anika could slide her into the adjacent maw of
Luanne’s cave, feeding her to her owner, the enemy’s remains to become just one
more deposit that would guarantee a long, fertile, and fruitful life.
She felt Antonetta’s power as they intertwined but the little screams from
Antonetta gave away the majestic impact that Anika was having on her. Back and
forth the yanking went. A few times the slippery environment made them slip
apart and they had to find each other amidst the milieu of battle. Like magnets
though, they always came back together and resumed their tortured fight. Anika
was breathing hard, but she knew that Antonetta was reeling on her last legs.
Rounds one through five had been dead even, rounds six through eight seemed to
Anika to swing her way. Each yank brought forth a groan from Antonetta. Every
snarling twist was reciprocated but with seemingly less energy than the
previous. Anika began to sense her little victory was imminent. The surrounding
battles raged on, but Anika was consumed by Antonetta. But in round nine,
Antonetta startled Anika with a vicious entanglement down low. Antonetta had
managed to twirl herself several loops around Anika’s feet, nearly down to the
root. Anika hated herself for allowing a cry of pain. She grimaced at the surge
of energy that then swarmed through Antonetta. With one more giant cry of
desperation, Antonetta wrapped one more curl around Anika and screamed in total
effort as she pulled against Anika with all her might.
Snap!
Anika’s root was pulled from its birthplace. Her consciousness reeled and faded
as she found herself at the complete mercy of Antonetta; her source of energy
gone, her connection to Luanne severed forever. The vision blurred but not
before she learned her fate. Antonetta has taken her snared victim across the
liquid boundary and slid her towards the mouth of Lisa’s cave. Antonetta’s
lovely writhing power deposited Anika just inside the orifice. Anika’s last
flickering sentience was the hope that the gallant sacrifice would make her
owner proud. The brunette-bordered cave swallowed up Anika like a Venus Fly Trap
gobbles its victims. The nourishment from their battle wouldn’t go to Luanne.
Lisa was the one nourished this time.
To be continued