Let me know what you think. Has a very male perspective. Any women out there with suggestions on how to make it better from their perspective, do let me know! 
...
and the tumbling white shoreline is pulling the glorious reflected blue sky up onto the sand… pulling it and letting it go hush by hush. The word is fantasy.
My heart is beating fast. We’d just finished a successful hunt and our guards were down when the sleek bodies of the amazons revealed themselves from the jungle. There were six males in our party and all of us knew that we were now at the mercy of these beautiful lithe huntresses. They knew how to treat their prey, slyly threatening us under our loincloths with wickedly sharp knives. The girls bound our wrists behind our backs, exposing our well muscled chests to the tropical sun, and led us to their campsite. They were virtually naked, clad in flimsy white cloth underwear that contrasted with their moist bronze skin. The amazons wore nothing else save for their hunting bows, the quivers of arrows bouncing lightly off their hips with each confident, graceful step, nets, and with hunting knives firmly strapped to their long smooth thighs. They had an excruciating effect on the men. Six lengths of masculine flesh were thickening, reacting under our loincloths. I bit my lip when I saw one of the huntresses coyly reach under one man’s loincloth, and pull him relentlessly forward with a smirk on her face.
They led us to six open wooden stocks that had been purpose built to hold us captive. The stocks consisted of two upright timber posts and two cross beam planks that were hinged at the level of our waists. A circular hole, perhaps two inches in diameter had been cut through the edges of the planks to form a cuff or sorts.
“Move them forward,” said Kala, their leader. Her beautiful smooth and voluptuous breasts rose and fell as she surveyed us, her mouth watering slightly at the scent of masculine arousal reaching her delicate nostrils. She swallowed hard. “lock them in”.
One of the girls stepped toward me. She reached down, briefly holding the weight of my stiffened manhood in her palm. She was a petite raven haired beauty, her sun bronzed skin just slightly moistened by perspiration in this high noon. She closed her hand firmly around the thick root of my organ and slid her fingers along its length, smiling as it twitched in excitement. Sweat ran from my hairline down my left temple as she tightly closed the the delicate pads of her forefinger and thumb into the plump purple flesh of my glans. I saw the muscles in her toned arms harden as she forced my strong erection down against the semicircular depression that had been cut into the lower plank. The huntress frowned slightly before releasing my aching knob. Licking her thumb and finger, she stepped lightly toward Kala, the beautiful tribal princess and leader of this manhunt. They spoke quietly, occasionally looking in my direction.
Kala came forward, walking gracefully, her hips swaying. Her eyes held mine for a moment before travelling over my powerfully muscled chest and arms, the ridge of my pelvis, my abdominal muscles tense with the strain put on them by the weight of my pulsing dick. I could do nothing about that… standing so close to these goddesses it was a combination of sexual reflex and instinct. “Yes Sam, he certainly is. But what have you done to him? He looks like he’s about the burst at the seams…” Her gaze crept was fixed on my outstretched, glistening sex. Kala was playing with me like a cat playing with a mouse “…so big…”
She glanced briefly at Samantha, at the knife whose blade was nestled in the leather sheath tied to her beautifully defined thigh. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to cut it until it fits.”
Sam looked at Kala in dismay, her eyes wide.
Kala giggled lightly, “oh, it won’t hurt him… too much…
"as long as you rub it with sandpaper to remove any splinters…”
Sam smiled, “aah…not his man meat - the plank!” She drew the short, sharp bladed knife on her thigh and spent some time carving curls of wood from the semicircular indentations that had been cut into each side of the man trap. She worked with some skill, and considerable expertise with the knife.
“I don’t think you’ll be needing this,” she said and cut my loincloth off with the knife. She used it to smooth the edges of the holes she had enlarged. My manhood was erect, pointing up at her. She grasped it firmly and pulled me forward.
“My, that’s a strong pulse,” she purred, enjoying the uncontrolled pulsations she had caused along the length of my heated sex. “oh big boy… have I done this to you?” With a slow gentle squeeze, pressed my erection down into the notch in the wood.“
With that, she closed the man trap, holding me captive by my fully veined but helpless erection. She bolted the two planks of the luntette closed. As she turned, I saw very fine tattoo, two delicate lines of poetry in the old tongue snaking down her luscious right flank from the back of her rib cage to her hip,
"…it’s the fire in my eyes, the flash of my teeth,
the swing of my waist, the joy in my feet…”.
But as I looked, it was her soft tanned skin, the curving interplay between her hips and thighs, her flanks and flat stomach, that was her real poetry. It resonated with the pulse of my desire, rhymed with my straining muscles.
I looked around and I saw that all of us men were held this way… trapped by the thickness of our bulging erections. We had been paired for this first part of the huntresses’ trial. Some of the girls had posed themselves on the sand of the beach before their men, provoking them with athletic and gymnastic displays that had caused several of the captive penii to point to the mid-day sun, juices flowing onto the sand.
One of the girls had been mercilessly touching the captive flesh of one of the men. With a groan, I could see his penis suddenly leap, knocking against the wood as his balls convulsed and sprayed the huntresses hand and arm with hot creamy cum. I bit my lip hard, trying to distract myself from the arousing sight and stop myself from reacting in the same way.
Now Kala stepped forward, and my heart leapt in fear when I saw a hunting falcon perched on her arm. The leader of the hunt spoke with good humour, a vivacious corsair. There was sympathy in her voice too. It was the sympathy that made me most afraid.
“Sorry boys… my hawk, Angela, loves to hunt snake. She’s been on a starvation diet, so I know she’s be happy to see so much meat on display.”
Kala thrust her hand skyward, and the falcon launched herself into the air.
For some reason… perhaps the constriction caused by the man trap, try as I might, I couldn’t free myself from it. I was locked in by my lust for Sam, my meat on full display for the hunting falcon. She smiled as I struggled to free myself. I wasn’t the only one, either. Several of the other captives were sweating but their passion for these sleek amazons was so strong that they too were helplessly trapped. Living in a neighbouring village, we had all heard of this ritual. The princess of the tribe, Kala, would choose one of us as her mate. But first we would be tested. Any man who made a sound, even an involuntary reaction, would be released and not allowed to mate.
While the hawk circled in the clear blue sky above, Sam stepped toward me. She spoke quietly, almost apologetically. “I have to measure you.” She reached behind her head and untied a length of black silk ribbon from her hair. I marvelled at the rise of her breasts under the immodest band of flimsy cloth that she wore, the smoothness of her armpits. She touched her fingertips to the moist purple head of my erection and I heard her sigh softly as she pulled it down so that it was no longer pointing up under her chin but was now angled in the direction of her loin cloth and the luscious sex that lay beneath it.
Another girl, this one with auburn hair that had picked up golden highlights from a life spent in the outdoors training her tribe’s riding stallions, turned from her own charge. “It’s a hot day… aren’t you going to protect his…” she dropped her gaze to the part of me that was pushing fiercely up against Sam’s fingertips, she whispered “magnificent specimen…
"the skin’s really delicate you know…
"and I’d hate to think how his will be feeling after this long exposed to the sun like that.”
Sam nodded. “Oh, but i don’t have any of the lotion!”
“Here, take this.” The auburn-haired beauty handed Sam a small clay pot. She lifted her hand to take it. Seemingly spring loaded, my manhood thumped audibly against the wood of the stocks. The huntress unsealed the wax lid and poured the white lotion into her hands. The stallion trainer spoke again, “here, I’ll hold him down for you. He looks strong, but I’m used to handling them.” They giggled at that.
The cool sun lotion was soothing on the sizzling hot skin of my penis. She poured it slowly onto my bursting glans and down my ridged length. As it ran down my length, the horse handler lifted her fingers one at a time to let it run and form a dripping collar of liquid around my straining root. The liquid collected in the contours of my manhood, on its ridges and veins. The girls looked straight into my eyes as they rubbed the lotion into my throbbing dick, enjoying the tension they could feel twitching in their hands that was reflected in the tightening of the muscles of my throat and my face. Their gentle fingers moved so slowly. The stallion trainer’s were sliding down toward the root of my erection, making a constricting noose that kept my foreskin peeled back from my sensitive knob, exposing it to Sam’s ministrations.
...
and the tumbling white shoreline is pulling the glorious reflected blue sky up onto the sand… pulling it and letting it go hush by hush. The word is fantasy.
My heart is beating fast. We’d just finished a successful hunt and our guards were down when the sleek bodies of the amazons revealed themselves from the jungle. There were six males in our party and all of us knew that we were now at the mercy of these beautiful lithe huntresses. They knew how to treat their prey, slyly threatening us under our loincloths with wickedly sharp knives. The girls bound our wrists behind our backs, exposing our well muscled chests to the tropical sun, and led us to their campsite. They were virtually naked, clad in flimsy white cloth underwear that contrasted with their moist bronze skin. The amazons wore nothing else save for their hunting bows, the quivers of arrows bouncing lightly off their hips with each confident, graceful step, nets, and with hunting knives firmly strapped to their long smooth thighs. They had an excruciating effect on the men. Six lengths of masculine flesh were thickening, reacting under our loincloths. I bit my lip when I saw one of the huntresses coyly reach under one man’s loincloth, and pull him relentlessly forward with a smirk on her face.
They led us to six open wooden stocks that had been purpose built to hold us captive. The stocks consisted of two upright timber posts and two cross beam planks that were hinged at the level of our waists. A circular hole, perhaps two inches in diameter had been cut through the edges of the planks to form a cuff or sorts.
“Move them forward,” said Kala, their leader. Her beautiful smooth and voluptuous breasts rose and fell as she surveyed us, her mouth watering slightly at the scent of masculine arousal reaching her delicate nostrils. She swallowed hard. “lock them in”.
One of the girls stepped toward me. She reached down, briefly holding the weight of my stiffened manhood in her palm. She was a petite raven haired beauty, her sun bronzed skin just slightly moistened by perspiration in this high noon. She closed her hand firmly around the thick root of my organ and slid her fingers along its length, smiling as it twitched in excitement. Sweat ran from my hairline down my left temple as she tightly closed the the delicate pads of her forefinger and thumb into the plump purple flesh of my glans. I saw the muscles in her toned arms harden as she forced my strong erection down against the semicircular depression that had been cut into the lower plank. The huntress frowned slightly before releasing my aching knob. Licking her thumb and finger, she stepped lightly toward Kala, the beautiful tribal princess and leader of this manhunt. They spoke quietly, occasionally looking in my direction.
Kala came forward, walking gracefully, her hips swaying. Her eyes held mine for a moment before travelling over my powerfully muscled chest and arms, the ridge of my pelvis, my abdominal muscles tense with the strain put on them by the weight of my pulsing dick. I could do nothing about that… standing so close to these goddesses it was a combination of sexual reflex and instinct. “Yes Sam, he certainly is. But what have you done to him? He looks like he’s about the burst at the seams…” Her gaze crept was fixed on my outstretched, glistening sex. Kala was playing with me like a cat playing with a mouse “…so big…”
She glanced briefly at Samantha, at the knife whose blade was nestled in the leather sheath tied to her beautifully defined thigh. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to cut it until it fits.”
Sam looked at Kala in dismay, her eyes wide.
Kala giggled lightly, “oh, it won’t hurt him… too much…
"as long as you rub it with sandpaper to remove any splinters…”
Sam smiled, “aah…not his man meat - the plank!” She drew the short, sharp bladed knife on her thigh and spent some time carving curls of wood from the semicircular indentations that had been cut into each side of the man trap. She worked with some skill, and considerable expertise with the knife.
“I don’t think you’ll be needing this,” she said and cut my loincloth off with the knife. She used it to smooth the edges of the holes she had enlarged. My manhood was erect, pointing up at her. She grasped it firmly and pulled me forward.
“My, that’s a strong pulse,” she purred, enjoying the uncontrolled pulsations she had caused along the length of my heated sex. “oh big boy… have I done this to you?” With a slow gentle squeeze, pressed my erection down into the notch in the wood.“
With that, she closed the man trap, holding me captive by my fully veined but helpless erection. She bolted the two planks of the luntette closed. As she turned, I saw very fine tattoo, two delicate lines of poetry in the old tongue snaking down her luscious right flank from the back of her rib cage to her hip,
"…it’s the fire in my eyes, the flash of my teeth,
the swing of my waist, the joy in my feet…”.
But as I looked, it was her soft tanned skin, the curving interplay between her hips and thighs, her flanks and flat stomach, that was her real poetry. It resonated with the pulse of my desire, rhymed with my straining muscles.
I looked around and I saw that all of us men were held this way… trapped by the thickness of our bulging erections. We had been paired for this first part of the huntresses’ trial. Some of the girls had posed themselves on the sand of the beach before their men, provoking them with athletic and gymnastic displays that had caused several of the captive penii to point to the mid-day sun, juices flowing onto the sand.
One of the girls had been mercilessly touching the captive flesh of one of the men. With a groan, I could see his penis suddenly leap, knocking against the wood as his balls convulsed and sprayed the huntresses hand and arm with hot creamy cum. I bit my lip hard, trying to distract myself from the arousing sight and stop myself from reacting in the same way.
Now Kala stepped forward, and my heart leapt in fear when I saw a hunting falcon perched on her arm. The leader of the hunt spoke with good humour, a vivacious corsair. There was sympathy in her voice too. It was the sympathy that made me most afraid.
“Sorry boys… my hawk, Angela, loves to hunt snake. She’s been on a starvation diet, so I know she’s be happy to see so much meat on display.”
Kala thrust her hand skyward, and the falcon launched herself into the air.
For some reason… perhaps the constriction caused by the man trap, try as I might, I couldn’t free myself from it. I was locked in by my lust for Sam, my meat on full display for the hunting falcon. She smiled as I struggled to free myself. I wasn’t the only one, either. Several of the other captives were sweating but their passion for these sleek amazons was so strong that they too were helplessly trapped. Living in a neighbouring village, we had all heard of this ritual. The princess of the tribe, Kala, would choose one of us as her mate. But first we would be tested. Any man who made a sound, even an involuntary reaction, would be released and not allowed to mate.
While the hawk circled in the clear blue sky above, Sam stepped toward me. She spoke quietly, almost apologetically. “I have to measure you.” She reached behind her head and untied a length of black silk ribbon from her hair. I marvelled at the rise of her breasts under the immodest band of flimsy cloth that she wore, the smoothness of her armpits. She touched her fingertips to the moist purple head of my erection and I heard her sigh softly as she pulled it down so that it was no longer pointing up under her chin but was now angled in the direction of her loin cloth and the luscious sex that lay beneath it.
Another girl, this one with auburn hair that had picked up golden highlights from a life spent in the outdoors training her tribe’s riding stallions, turned from her own charge. “It’s a hot day… aren’t you going to protect his…” she dropped her gaze to the part of me that was pushing fiercely up against Sam’s fingertips, she whispered “magnificent specimen…
"the skin’s really delicate you know…
"and I’d hate to think how his will be feeling after this long exposed to the sun like that.”
Sam nodded. “Oh, but i don’t have any of the lotion!”
“Here, take this.” The auburn-haired beauty handed Sam a small clay pot. She lifted her hand to take it. Seemingly spring loaded, my manhood thumped audibly against the wood of the stocks. The huntress unsealed the wax lid and poured the white lotion into her hands. The stallion trainer spoke again, “here, I’ll hold him down for you. He looks strong, but I’m used to handling them.” They giggled at that.
The cool sun lotion was soothing on the sizzling hot skin of my penis. She poured it slowly onto my bursting glans and down my ridged length. As it ran down my length, the horse handler lifted her fingers one at a time to let it run and form a dripping collar of liquid around my straining root. The liquid collected in the contours of my manhood, on its ridges and veins. The girls looked straight into my eyes as they rubbed the lotion into my throbbing dick, enjoying the tension they could feel twitching in their hands that was reflected in the tightening of the muscles of my throat and my face. Their gentle fingers moved so slowly. The stallion trainer’s were sliding down toward the root of my erection, making a constricting noose that kept my foreskin peeled back from my sensitive knob, exposing it to Sam’s ministrations.