LISA vs LUANNE - CHAPTER 12
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.
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