The heat of the African sun beat down on my naked body like an open furnace. The krit-trrrrrrrr of the woodland kingfisher cut through the hot morning air, declaring its territory, close to water. My body absorbed the sensations of the African bush as a soft breeze blew in my direction, cooling my hot pussy. I became one with nature as the naked soles of my feet sought the next safe spot to touch down.
It was midmorning when I saw the unmistakable tracks of Clarisse, a two-and-a-half-year-old lioness, in the soft sand of a dry riverbed. Dropping on one knee, squashing my naked breast against my thigh, I studied the tracks. The limp of her right front leg and the blood on the ground were clearly visible. She might have been injured by a male lion that took over her mother’s pride. The tracks were fresh and the wind carried her scent to me.
Before I could walk around a large river bushwillow tree, I heard the soft growl of my quarry and the crackling laughter of hyenas. I froze at the sight before me. Clarisse, with her behind quarters secured in a buffalo thorn bush, faced two hyenas, her mortal enemies. Although injured and young, this lioness would not give up without a fight.
It was only then that I became aware of my own vulnerability. As usual, I was on my morning foot patrol through the most isolated part of a private game reserve. Every morning, my job as a game ranger was to look for fresh movements of various animals. I usually got rid of all my clothes about ten minutes from the lodge. If Gerald knew I walked around naked and without a weapon, he would’ve fired my naked ass long ago.
Now, I had to get to safety before the hyenas turned on me. But my concern for Clarisse, whom I saved when she was just a cub, brought my maternal instincts to the surface. Grabbing two thick dry sticks beneath a dead Mopane tree, I stormed the hyenas and banged the sticks against each other, shouting at the top of my voice.
The hyenas saw this five-foo-eleven-inch, naked woman with short flaming red hair charging at them. At first, it looked like they wanted to laugh at this strange apparition, but the ruckus I made was enough to raise the dead. They turned and fled into the bush, leaving the wounded lioness staring at her new adversary.
I stood before her in a half crouching position, a stick in each hand, ready for the inevitable. Clarisse licked her paw and bowed her head. A porcupine quill got stuck between the toes of her paw and one in her neck. Her leg was also bleeding, but not too seriously. She could die if those quills were not removed. I wondered if she would still remember me and without any thought of danger to myself, I dropped the sticks and moved towards the lioness.
Careful not to make any sudden moves, I took her massive right paw and squeezed the skin at the point of entry and removed the quill. She made no sound, except her heavy breathing.
The quill in her neck proved to be more difficult to remove. She had to lift her head for me to reach the quill. Her yellow eyes betrayed a recognition, or so I hoped. I could smell the pus in her neck from the infected wound. Moving with speed, I yanked the quill from her neck before she could react and saw the pus draining from the wound. As I slowly retreated towards safety, Clarisse just licked the blood from her leg, shook her head, got up and walked away. She never looked back.
Steadying myself against a tree, my legs apart and my knees wobbly, my bladder suddenly released its load. I had to laugh at myself. There I was, scared shitless, but still had to mark my territory with my urine. It took the best part of an hour for my body to recover from the aftermath of my insane act. Just one swipe of her paw and I would have been turned into lunch.
I was lucky. I was given another chance. After three years of running away, trying to hide from my past, I was still as vulnerable as Clarisse was. Being naked and defenseless turned every moment into an act of oneness. The two-legged “hyenas” could still find me and destroy the peace I found in the African bush. But was this peace enough for me? Wasn’t there something more I could do to secure a future for lions and hyenas?
Retreating from my close encounter with death, I felt a long-forgotten pulse beating within my pussy and breasts. For three years I have been celibate and the possibility of my own death awakened the longing within me. I wanted to feel that desire, the passion of being alive again. I wanted to make love, to feel a throbbing cock inside me, my tongue on a wet pussy and my mouth sucking on a dick. What I would’ve given to feel the naked breasts of another squashed against mine again, or a tongue fucking my pussy.
I didn’t want to die alone with lots of regrets. Picking up my pace, I hurried to the spot where I left my clothes. I was only vaguely aware of the two adult giraffes and their young lunching on an acacia tree as I passed a herd of zebra and impala. The first thing I did when I reached my clothes was to use a little water from my canteen to wash off the urine from my pussy and legs.
Fishing out my clothes from a dead leadwood tree, I pulled on my tight-fitting shorts and shirt, and stuffed my panties and bra into my pockets. In my haste, I broke all the buttons of the shirt and had to tie the shirt across my stomach, leaving my full breasts half exposed. At that stage, I didn’t care. I knew what I had to do. I had to confront my own “hyenas.” Only then did I pull on my boots.
It was late afternoon when I sneaked unseen into the lodge. It was easy because I have mastered the art of doing it for more than two years. The first item on my new agenda was to see Gerald. The luxury silver SUV parked outside Gerald’s office barely registered in my consciousness. I knocked once and opened the door:
“Gerald, I want to hand in my…”
“Sam,” Gerald interrupted, slouching behind his mahogany desk. “Or should I call you Christine Marais, a South African billionaire’s long lost daughter?”
Sitting in the easy chairs in Gerald’s office were two “hyenas,” getting ready to pounce on me for my jugular.
“How did they find me?”
“I just happened to read that Mr. Piet Marais, the billionaire, died in a motor accident and left everything to his only child, Christine Marais. They had a picture of you with long red hair. I recognized you and called his office. Monique answered and I told them that I know a Samantha Brown who looks like Christine Marais.”
“My father died? When?”
“Three days ago,” said Gerald. I didn’t expect Father to die so soon. I still had to make amends for my stupidity. My heart was torn apart with grief, but only for a moment. I decided that mourning would come later.
Monique stood up, a tall beautiful woman, sensual in every way. Her short grey hair, alabaster skin, designer safari clothes and painted nails oozed confidence and to me, humiliation. She glided over to me with open arms.
“I’ve been looking forward to meeting you for so long.” She hugged me and then pushed me at arm’s length, sizing me up from head to toe. Her gaze hovered an extra moment on my cleavage. “It was worth the wait. You look fantastic.”
"Do you want to humiliate me further?” This was the first touch of another human being in a while for me. My body reacted in a strange way, not how I expected. I didn’t know if it was lust or just the gratefulness of being touched.
“Oh, au contraire,” Monique assured me. “I want to help you take control of Tau Enterprises.”
“Control? How do you expect me to step into Father’s shoes after the scandal I caused?”
“The company thrived because of it and we doubled our profit and helped millions of people,” the other woman interrupted as she stood up and approached me. Her blue eyes sparkling with laughter and delight. “My name is Lisa and we want to give you the opportunity to prove that the faith your father had in you was not misguided.”
“How? By showing that I am a slut?”
“Of course not,” Lisa said. She undid the knot in my shirt, opened it and slid it over my shoulders. When my shirt dropped to the floor, Lisa took my full breasts in her hands and squeezed them. I wanted to stop her, to stop this humiliation and flee back into the bush. My body didn’t want to cooperate. My feet were glued to the floor.
“Oh, fuck,” Gerald said. “What a great fucking pair of tits.”
“Yes, they are beautiful and perfect for what we want to show women across the world,” Monique said as she undid my shorts, leaving me naked.
“Look at that pussy.” Gerald was beside himself. “I never knew you were so fucking fuckable.”
“I love your tan,” Lisa said as she walked around me, sizing me up. “Women, and men,” pointing to Gerald, “will go nuts over your body. You will be our new image.”
“I thought they saw it all three years ago,” I said, not making a move to cover myself up. Humiliation or not, I have been hiding myself from the eyes of others for far too long.
“That was the old Tau Enterprises. They haven’t seen you for who you really are,” Monique assured me.
“Do you know the real me?” I was pissed off. Did they know that I faced a lioness this morning? Did they care about the harsh beauty of the bush? Picking up my discarded clothes, I walked to the door. Before opening it, I turned to the two hyenas and said: “How do you plan to shame me more?”
“Hey, Sam, eh, Christine, you can’t walk around naked in the camp,” Gerald said.
“I quit,” I said and opened the door, wiggling my naked ass in Gerald’s direction as my resignation letter.
“You can’t quit. I own your ass.”
Slowly I turned around, dropped my clothes on the chair next to the door, walked up to Gerald, put my hands on the desk and said: “You know what? I’ll buy this lodge and then I’ll own your ass.”
Gerald’s eyes were fixed on my swaying tits. “Ladies,” I said to the two hyenas without taking my eyes off the handsome Gerald. “Take note: I want this place before I leave for Johannesburg tomorrow.”
Licking his lips, Gerald was so engrossed with my tits that he didn’t hear what I said. He slowly moved his right hand to my breasts. I let his hand get close before I grabbed it and pushed it away.
The realization that I was naked in the office and in the presence of three clothed people warmed my pussy and hardened my nipples. Or was it the sudden surge of the power money gave me that made me so bold? On the other hand, I longed to be touched, even by Gerald, just to feel desired again.
My free hand involuntary found its way to my wet pussy. Touching my clit sent shivers through my body. As I inserted two fingers inside my slippery sex, my breath shortened and my bosom heaved. On impulse, I tasted myself and offered a taste to Gerald. He greedily accepted my offer and sucked on my fingers.
