CyranoJ
Ustuzou
- Joined
- Mar 5, 2015
- Posts
- 2,782
It was early in the morning when I responded to a thumper from the direction of your sietch. As I dismounted from the maker and released him back into the desert, you appeared from the shadows of the rock face wearing a stillsuit of Fremen manufacture that hugged your tight curves. I asked if there was a Harkonnen raid, and you said: "No, perhaps one of our young boys in high spirits planted the thumper." But I saw a telltale glint in the blue-within-blue of your eyes, so deep they were almost black.
I said: "There are Sardaukar extermination parties working in these latitudes, your young boy took a terrible risk."
You replied: "Perhaps you have something in your stillsuit that could distract me from such dangers, young warrior."
"I do," I replied. "But my chieftain would be most displeased with my water discipline if I were to open my suit and give up moisture frivolously."
"Water belongs to the tribe," you agreed. "But if you like, I can promise to make good the integrity of any part of your suit you chose to open to me."
And so, selflessly and for the good of the tribe, I unzipped the crotch of my stillsuit and showed you the Little Maker of my loins, He Who Takes a Maiden's Mind Off Approaching Danger, rearing up like a nine-inch Shai-Hulud -- and true to your word, just as the desert was about to claim the moisture from his tip, you enveloped him in your warm, wet mouth and swallowed him all the way down, in this way making good the integrity of my stillsuit as a proper Fremen woman of the sands and sietch and erg should do. And my Little Maker drowned himself in that warm, moist cavern, while down below in my fundament there churned the Water of Life, ready to burst forth and be swallowed for the satiation of my dear love's desires...
I said: "There are Sardaukar extermination parties working in these latitudes, your young boy took a terrible risk."
You replied: "Perhaps you have something in your stillsuit that could distract me from such dangers, young warrior."
"I do," I replied. "But my chieftain would be most displeased with my water discipline if I were to open my suit and give up moisture frivolously."
"Water belongs to the tribe," you agreed. "But if you like, I can promise to make good the integrity of any part of your suit you chose to open to me."
And so, selflessly and for the good of the tribe, I unzipped the crotch of my stillsuit and showed you the Little Maker of my loins, He Who Takes a Maiden's Mind Off Approaching Danger, rearing up like a nine-inch Shai-Hulud -- and true to your word, just as the desert was about to claim the moisture from his tip, you enveloped him in your warm, wet mouth and swallowed him all the way down, in this way making good the integrity of my stillsuit as a proper Fremen woman of the sands and sietch and erg should do. And my Little Maker drowned himself in that warm, moist cavern, while down below in my fundament there churned the Water of Life, ready to burst forth and be swallowed for the satiation of my dear love's desires...
