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Primitive - eBook

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Primitive by Lizbeth Dusseau

“You can’t go primitive in the jungle without going wild. You can’t dive into darkness without giving the darkness a sign of your savagery.”

In the sensuous climate of a tiny South Seas Isle the pristine virgin, Camille, is betrayed by her ruthless stepsister, handed over to a white man who’s turned savage by the teaming jungle. Though she's initially angered by her sister's scheming, the master of the erotic, Llewellyn, knows she hungers to have her wild nature set free. He refuses to take her without her consent, but she willingly succumbs to the sensuous seduction by his two dark-skinned native servants until she begs to be deflowered. So begins the odyssey of her transformation from virgin maid to sexual slave.

Conquered by Llewellyn’s loving domination, she dives into a primitive lust, becoming a slave to her master, and a queen in this remote jungle world. A confrontation with her stepsister will lead to some surprising results and a fitting end.

A lush feast of psychological D/s, written in Camille’s own words.


After three weeks on the island, Lydia is off with Llewellyn several times. She’s furtive about her visits, leaves me at our bathing pool, which I heartily protest, though she goes anyway. Sneaking along the jungle path she finds his hut somewhere in a remote part of the island and plays with him in bed. I don’t want to hear about her sexual escapades, they disgust me. But I can’t stop her talking late at night, when she plops down on my bed, after I’ve already fallen asleep. She wakes me, my eyes opening, startled to see her staring at me with an infernal gleam I cannot trust. She tells me how they made love.
He’s not a child, Camille,” she purrs like a cat when she speaks softly. “But a man. His body is strong, no flab for an old man, but so firm. He’s tan without a line, like me. He tells me he works in the nude, but I haven’t seen that yet.” She heaves this deep, self-satisfied sigh. “He says he wants a female model. I think he’ll use me. Wouldn’t that be heavenly, to be studied all day by a man of art? To be rendered in color lounging among banana leaves and ferns? Makes me wet between my thighs, thinking of it.”
“Lydia!” I protest. “I don’t want to hear about your sex with the man.”
“That’s only because you’re so envious.”
“I am not. The last thing I want is a loveless affair with a man who is content to use me and then cast me off when he gets tired of me.”
“Oh, you’re incurable. In search of a husband? Here? In this god-forsaken place? It’ll never happen, Camille. All we can hope for while father broods is to have some fun with our loins and a few potent stalks.”
“Don’t talk dirty!” I try to quell her again.
“I love talking dirty to you,” she snickers. While I lie in bed, she leans over me, her two hands on either side of my head, her face bending down to mine. Her lips are much too close to mine. “You’re so easy to upset. You get all in a dither looking stuffy. Your rules are going to make you miserable, little sis. But that’s all right with me, because that means I’ll have the crème de la crème for me. And let’s face it, on this isle, we can’t really be that choosy.”
“The only man I want is a husband,” I tell her.
“How naïve,” she says backing away smirking. The twist to her lips makes me fear her. But I’ve seen it before so I have no reason to be afraid. Yet, in this sultry savage climate I’m not sure that she won’t become more crazed than she already is.
Rising, she stands beside my bed and looks down on me.
“You know, he has the largest cock I’ve even seen, certainly that has ever entered me. His balls are heavy, hanging low. But it’s his forceful way with me that intrigues me the most. When he presses into me, he rides hard and I scream carefree.” The way her body undulates as she speaks I think she’s back in the moment, remembering so well that she’ll re-experience the whole scene before my eyes. I don’t want to see it, but I have no choice but to wait until Lydia finishes her testimony. If I look away she won’t stop, so I allow my eyes to keep their focus, staying one step back from her in consciousness. I try not to think of how her sensuous body is affecting me.
She runs her hands over her flesh, down the sticky sides of her satin gown. Her thighs quiver and she moans quietly, her eyes drooping lazily until they close. I’m too shocked to speak. She has me hypnotized the way she moves before me. The slip of a nightgown drops to the floor and she’s naked masturbating before my eyes; though I don’t think she even remembers I’m here the way she looks lost in her sensuous reverie. I watch as she fondles her breasts while a hand remains at her crotch opening the thatch of silken hair to expose the purple insides of her pussy. Her middle fingers moves directly to the hole deep in that cleft. One finger driving into the place becomes two, becomes three, until I realize that she’s using her fingers like a cock to fuck herself.
I want to scream at her to stop, but I keep silent, curiously honoring the act that is both lewd and lovely. I find my own hand straying to that pulsing spot between my thighs. I’m sticky there and the bud between my labia is like a little rock. But just a few furious strokes, I realize what filthy thing I’ve be lured to and I pluck my hand from underneath the covers. But before I can say a word to my sister, she’s bucking against the fingers she’s poked into her hole and a gasp of pure lust tells me she’s cum.
How soft she is when she reappears in the real world, slightly shocked to see what she’s shown me about herself. With an odd purse of her pinkish lips she darts from the room and I remain awake long after unable to sleep.


I am intensely curious about Lydia and her lover, though I try to shirk from the idea of their loins locked together. Unfortunately, the picture of them keeps returning to my mind. How I hate that.
I’ve taken to spending my days without seeing Lydia at all. I keep to myself reading the books father finds for me and doing some exploration of the jungle in places I know are safe for me to go. I leave Lydia to her lusts, knowing that it’s not time for mine to bloom. They belong to a man I don’t yet know, and that is just as well. I’m only eighteen, I should wait before declaring myself. And Lydia is right, there are precious few decent men that happen by our port to choose from.
One afternoon, I’m taking a new trail that leads to a more isolated part of the island. Father tells me it’s a safe trail that should suggest no special caution. It’s not as if there are dangerous wild animals here. The wildlife is quite tame, and the natives are gentle as lambs. I trek through a thick, dark growth of foliage for nearly a mile and then break out into a clearing. When I hear the sound of voices, I’m afraid, and squat down on the ground just in time to see Lydia standing in the midst of a spray of ferns on the jungle’s edge. She’s naked. Her breasts sway against her chest seducing the man she stares at below her. I’m sure it’s Llewellyn though I can’t see him. I creep closer wanting to see, obsessed with the prospect of seeing these nude people copulating. It would be my first time. When Lydia drops to the ground again, I move closer still, until I can peek through the bushes and catch glimpses of two naked forms writhing like snakes in the grass. I see his ass on top of her, the round globes gleaming in the sun, and his broad back and husky shoulders, even how his mouth with its black arrows descend to her lips. He has claim of her and she looks minuscule underneath his hovering form. Seeing the shaft of his cock glide in and out of Lydia’s cunt, I can’t take my eyes off the pair.
I wonder at his hands, how they comb the surfaces of her skin, how hands like that would feel on me … on my breasts and my ticklish sides and on my hips where such sexual sensations begin. Following his as they move earnestly to caress all of her with an honest passion, I fear I’m jealous of her and the liberties she takes with herself. When he drops down between her thighs and begins to suck at her snatch, I feel mine jolt hard. That tongue laps her like she’s candy, or an ice cream cone on a hot day. The smile behind his efforts makes me realize that sex is a game of pleasure … I have to restrain myself from my own and not let my hand stray to play with myself.
Only when I realize that they are orgasming do I finally scoot away, afraid I’ll be caught. I hear their lusty laughter as I silently slip into a tangled thicket and hope they don’t notice the rustling bushes.
I have to guard against this happening again for fear this jungle and this atmosphere of heat will break down my walls of decency and I’ll descend into the same kind of tawdry animal my stepsister has become.

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