Village Head's Debauchery-Novel



After my words reached her ears, Ayla's head nodded in swift affirmation. "Follow me," she commanded, her tone firm yet laced with urgency, as she pivoted gracefully to take the lead. "We cannot afford to keep the chieftess waiting any longer." I acknowledged her directive with a nod and trailed silently behind, guided by her gestured invitation. As we ventured forth, she guided me into the third hut, but what awaited me beyond the threshold left me utterly astounded.

As I stepped inside, the room sprawled out before me, revealing what I presumed to be the village's living space. Yet, it held far more surprises than I had anticipated. At the room's centre stood a small table, devoid of chairs, indicating that its inhabitants knelt on the floor to partake in its use. While encountering a table in this primitive world was unexpected, it was not what truly astonished me. No, what truly seized my attention were the myriad wooden frames adorning the reddish clay walls, each cradling a captivating abstract painting. The presence of a table hinted at the village chief's wealth and resources, something I could easily surmise. However, the meticulously crafted wooden frames housing these remarkable artworks surpassed my expectations for a village of this nature.

They couldn't possibly have made this themselves!

"Isn't it beautiful?" Ayla's voice broke the silence, carrying a serene tone that contrasted with her usual indifference. "The village chief and chieftess always make it a point to purchase these paintings from the travelling caravan along with other intriguing trinkets," she explained, her finger pointing towards the centre of the room where the table stood proudly. "That object there is called a table," she added, her lips breaking into a smile.

"But I didn't bring you here to showcase these treasures. Let's not keep the chieftess waiting any longer," she said, motioning for me to follow her. We proceeded through one of the two doors in the room, entering a corridor that appeared more spacious than any I had previously encountered. It didn't take long for me to realize that we were entering the home of the village chief, as the corridor boasted various adornments and decorations.

As we continued down the corridor, our footsteps echoing softly, Ayla halted abruptly at a door nestled against the side wall. With a quick flick of her wrist, she knocked on the door, causing a hushed thud to resonate through the hallway.

"Is that you, Ayla?" a voice resonated from beyond the door. Ayla promptly replied, her voice infused with added vigour to ensure her words reached the person inside, "Yes, Chieftess, it's me. And I've brought the young man." Following a momentary pause, the familiar voice responded, "Very well, you may enter."

Ayla extended her arm, gracefully pulling the door open, and with a subtle gesture, she invited me inside. As I stepped into the room, Ayla closed the door behind us.

"Fortunately, you've decided to join us; otherwise, I might have sent Ayla to your hut to fetch you sooner or later," the village chieftess remarked, a brief chuckle escaping her lips. My gaze drifted toward her as I noticed her reclining on a vibrant, intricately woven mat, with her head resting on the lap of what appeared to be one of her female servants. The chieftess nibbled on a succulent Kalna fruit, offered by the servant, while another servant delicately massaged her legs. Two additional female attendants stood beside them, exuding an air of reverence. "Why are you still standing? Come and take a seat," she beckoned, observing my hesitation. With a nod, I walked forward and settled onto the ground, with my erected penis protruding from my torn tulga, its full length now exposed, concealing only my sack of balls beneath it.

And honestly, if I hadn't adjusted my tulga before sitting down, I would have met the cold, hard ground beneath me, chilling my bare buttocks. Nevertheless, the Village Chieftess immediately noticed my erection and reached out her hand towards it. In a matter of seconds, a shiver coursed through my legs and up my spine, causing my hardened penis to engorge further as a rush of blood surged towards it. Sporting a perplexed expression, she uttered, "When I heard that you had no trouble getting an erection for the kushi demonstration in such a short time, I thought they were merely exaggerating your previous achievements." She paused momentarily, then forcefully pulled down my tulga, freeing my pulsating, veiny penis from its fabric confines, before firmly grasping it and rhythmically pumping it up and down, as if examining its hardness, strength, and veins.

Meanwhile, I struggled to maintain composure, desperately attempting to hold back the impending eruption. The village chieftess, her legs now freed from her servants' laps, focused intently on my growing firm penis, applying firm pressure and skillfully massaging it. Every touch elicited a more powerful throb, a clear indication that release was imminent. But despite my best efforts, I couldn't suppress it entirely. The mounting pressure became unbearable, and against my will, a surge of warm semen stained the tip of my foreskin, as my release unfolded with a slow, yet intense, intensity.

Then, with a gaze filled with intensity, I observed the village chieftess confidently wipe away my semen with her thumb and index finger, showing no hesitation. Without skipping a beat, she boldly inserted the two fingers into her mouth, her tongue and lips skillfully licking off the sweet residue.

"Interesting," the village chieftess mused, her expression turning thoughtful instead of serious this time. She met my gaze squarely and extended her hand once more to my throbbing member, this time rubbing it softly before releasing her grip. "Do you still feel like there's more to release?" she inquired, her voice laced with curiosity. I nodded in affirmation, providing a confident response. "Yes," I replied, attempting to maintain a nonchalant expression despite the overwhelming sensations coursing through me.

The village Chieftess nodded knowingly, her eyes filled with understanding. "Alright, I understand that it would be difficult to talk or have a conversation with you in this state," she acknowledged. "So, I'll patiently wait for you to finish releasing and soften up your penis so that we can continue with the meeting."