White Feather and Dawn Rain faced each other across the small glade.  They knelt on the soft moss covered ground waiting.  It was very late and very dark.  Neither woman could see her rival, yet still they locked eyes.  Neither woman could see Charging Bear, but if they listened closely they could hear him breathing.  He waited near the edge of the clearing as dictated by custom.  He would not enter the clearing until one of the women had clearly defeated her rival.

For as long as anybody in the tribe could remember the Ghost people had a problem.  They had always had many more squaws than braves.  Some of it was due to wars with other tribes.  Some was due to occasional hunting accidents.  But the bulk of numbers had always been due to births.  They simply had 2 squaws born for every brave.  By the time they reached adulthood, the imbalance envitably got worse approaching 4 squaws for every brave that was worth having.  The tribe solved this delima with polygamy.  Every brave was expected to have as many wives as his hunting skills could support.

But this created a new problem.  Jealousy.  Squaws just were not content to share their braves.  Fights erupted.  The social structure of the tribe broke down.  So the elders created the rite of the moon.  Squaws were given an order.  The lowest squaw would have to take orders from a higher squaw.  The first or top squaw decided when the lower squaws would have access to their brave.  If a squaw didn’t like her position in a braves tent, she could challenge the next higher squaw for her position in the rite of the moon. At the birth of the full moon, their brave took them to a secluded location.  As the moon rose into the sky the Brave would give the command and the squaws would fight.  If the moon set before one surrendered, it was considered a tie and their positions remained unchanged.  If there was a victor, she took the higher position and the looser took the lower.  In addition the winner would get the brave for the night.  For some of the lower squaws in the tribe it was the only chance they would get to be alone with their brave.

Charging Bear was an especially good hunter.  And a handsome brave.  He had selected 6 squaws so far.  And many others in the tribe wished to join them.  Charging Bear only picked the most beautiful Squaws.  White Feather had been his first squaw.  He had picked her 7 summers ago.  She was strong and beautiful.  She stood eight and one half hands tall.  She was slender with large full breasts, perfect for feeding their 3 sons.  All his squaws had full breasts.  Between all his squaws, Charging Bear had a total of 5 sons and 3 daughters, part of the reason he was so desired by the village squaws.  Having a son was a position of honor among the Ghost people.  It showed that the squaw was favored by the spirits.  And Charging Bear’s squaws were apparently more blessed than any others in the tribe.  Particularly White Feather.  White Feather had been his first squaw the majority of the time since she was first selected by Charging Bear.  She was kind hearted and wise.  She often shared Charging Bear with the other squaws without the ritual.  She shared in the work too.  In some ways it was kindness and in others it was intelligence.  If the other squaws were happy with their place in the order, they wouldn’t challenge White Feather for leadership.  In 7 summers, she had only been challenged 9 times.  And she had only lost once, regaining her position the very next moon.  Some lead squaws were challenged every month.  But not White Feather.

In many ways, Charging Bear was disappointed.  He liked to see his squaws fight.  It was the reason he selected White Feather.  Before they were joined, she had many fights and was well known in the tribe for her fierceness toward other squaws.  She was fearless.  She had never backed down from another squaw.  He had thought that selecting her would result in endless battles.  Instead, under her strong leadership he had fewer fights than most braves.  All his squaws were content with their place.  There was an ongoing battle for the third position, but even that had occured only a dozen times in four winters.  And even those fights had not been necessary.  Leaping Fawn and Singing Stream just happened to hate each other and took advantage of the ritual to vent their frustration.

It was for that reason he had selected Dawn Rain as his latest Squaw.  In many ways, she was like a younger White Feather.  She was only slightly shorter and just as busty.  She was equally beautiful.  She had often fought other Squaws and was known for her ferocity.  And she hated White Feather.  The two had come to blows several times before Dawn Rains coupling with Charging Bear.  Fights were forbidden between coupled squaws outside the moon ritual within the family.   But they were still common in the tribe between all squaws.  Especially those who had not yet been selected for coupling and those that had.  There simply was a lot of jealousy between the chosen and unchosen.  Before Dawn Rain was even of coupling age she had fought White Feather twice.  Of course White Feather had easily beaten her each time.  It was a fight between a Woman and a Girl.  Charging Bear had hoped now that Dawn Rain was a woman, the outcome might be more even between the two.

Unfortunately for Charging Bear, on the night of their coupling, Dawn Rain had become pregnant again denying Charging Bear the pleasure of seeing his squaws fight as fighting while pregnant was strictly forbidden.  But since the birth of his fourth son to her, Dawn Rain had more than made up for it, fighting a different squaw for her position each moon moving up the ranks.  The battles had been epic.  None of his squaws had liked Dawn Rain and each had been determined to defeat her.  Charging Bear smiled in the darkness remembering each of Dawn Rain’s fights.  None of the battles had ended quickly.  A couple had almost gone the entire path of the moon in the valley.  But each had ended with Dawn Rain atop of a sobbing surrendering squaw.  One after another they had fallen until this moon she was ready to face White Feather.  Now they knealt in the darkness facing each other ready to begin their battle to be first among Charging Bear’s Squaws.  Even with his excellant night vision, it was too dark to see them, but he could hear them breathing, softly, calmly, quietly.  Both squaw’s were looking forward to this fight.  They were both calm, confident that she would be victorious over her hated rival.  They had been both been waiting for this moment since Charging Bear had chosen Dawn Rain.  Waiting for it and looking forward to it.

As the moon began to rise to even a dim glow cries went up throughout the valley as squaw attacked squaw.  “Papooses,” thought Charging Bear of the other warriors who had so prematurely given their squaws the command to fight.  They could not even see the women yet to properly enjoy the battle.  At this moment even Charging Bear could barely see his squaws kneeling facing each other barely 3 paces between them.  The wore only loin cloth’s, the traditional dress of the moon ceremony.  The ceremonial garb was brightly decorated, but you couldn’t tell in the darkness.  Charging bear never understood why the Squaws so carefully decorated their fight cloths.  Even on the brightest night you couldn’t really see the colors.  And so often even the cloths were destroyed in the fights.  So why decorate them… Squaws… as many as he had, Charging Bear was certain he would never fully understand them.

The moon continued to rise brightening the dark glade.  The distant sounds of battle continued all around them.  Already to their west, Charging Bear could hear the sobbing surrender of one of the squaws.  He wasn’t certain, but he thought it was Strong Bow’s squaws.  Strong Bow liked his squaws big and fat.  He had three.  And they hated each other.  Hardly a cycle of the moon passed in his tent without a fight.  But their fights never lasted very long.  The large women were very strong but didn’t have much endurance.  They did enormous damage to each other very quickly.  Once the scales tipped in the fights, they tipped very quickly. 

Thinking of the women fighting in the distance aroused Charging Bear.  As was tradition, he was naked in the darkness awaiting the victor of the ritual.  He wondered if they could see his erect warrior’s spear in the darkness?  He doubted it.  They were so focused on each other at the moment, he doubted they could see anything except their rival through the fog of hatred.  The moonlight rested gently upon their smooth skin.  It was still too dark to truely see them, but he could barely make out each woman’s erect nipples stretching toward her rival.  It was obvious both women were excited by the prospect of fighting.  But he doubted either of them wanted to fight as much as he wanted to see them fight.

The sounds in the valley had begun to change.  The more patient braves had begun to allow their squaws to fight and their eager screams joined in with the sobs and grunts from battles futher along in their course.  In addition the sounds of love making could now be clearly heard.  Victorious squaws were always more vocal on this night.  It was a strange announcement to the world of her victory as well as a way to rub salt in the wounds of her defeated rival a few feet away.  With all the din around them, Charging Bear, could hear his Squaws breathing pick up a bit, see the eagerness as their perfect moonlit breasts rose and fell more quickly.  They could hardly wait.  And finally, Charging Bear could wait no longer either.  So softly it was almost a whisper he said “You may begin.”  With a war cry both Squaws were instantly on their feet charging at their rival.

The enraged women came together with a resounding slap as their bodies collided.  One hand went instantly into their rivals hair yanking their hated opponent backward while pressing her body into her foe leveraging her weight against her foe.  The other hand furiously slapped, punched, and scratched at her rival.  This was a very typical combat technique for squaws.  It was a furious fast paced method intended to completely overwhelm your opponent finishing her off quickly before she could do any damage.  It worked well when the women were mismatched either giving advantage to a weak woman to surprise her rival or to a very strong one who could could completely overwhelm her foe.  Dawn Rain and White Feather were far too evenly matched for the method to work for either of them.  They screamed and scratched, punched and clawed, all the while yanking their foes head with the one hand trying to pull her off balance, finally the squaws tired a bit, and buried both hands into their rivals hair trying desperately to overpower her foe and throw her to the ground.  Instead this just pressed their bodies further into each other as they pushed and surged trying to gain advantage.

Charging Bear was delighted to see the women breasts clash into each other.  He often wondered which squaw had the bigger fuller breasts.  Now almost forgotten in their battle the women’s breast clashed into each other almost accidentally fighting a separate battle of their own.  It would take much more that coincidental contact between the two of them to determine which had the superior breasts.  It was simply too close to call.

The two beautiful squaws stumbled around the clearing straining against each other determined to force the other to the ground while remaining upright herself.  The moonlight glistened of their now sweat covered bodies.  They steadily hissed insults at each other punctuated with grunts of exertion and squeals of pain.  Their legs danced in and out from each other trying to trip each other up.  Finally White Feather got a leg behind Dawn Rain tripping her, but with as tight as their grip was on each other she was pulled over on top of her rival.  Dawn Rain quickly bucked herself upward knocking White Feather off her to the side.  Instantly they interlocked their legs and both women released their hair grip to focus all their energy on getting on top of her rival punching wildly, scratching, and clawing with one hand while pushing off the ground with the other struggling to mount her hated foe.  Their struggle pulled them closer and closer together.  They each scissored one of her opponents legs with her own, leg muscles squeezing and strained, trying to achieve some type of control.  Suddenly Dawn rain lunged forward sinking her teeth into White feathers left breast. 

“AAAAIIIIIIEEEEEEEEGGGH!” White Feather howled with a mixture rage and pain. White feather returned her hand to Dawn Rains hair straining to remove her foes teeth from her breast.  At first Dawn Rain’s teeth would not budge.  White Feather buried both hands in Dawn Rain’s silky black mane and pulled with all her might.  Finally she was successful at removing Dawn Rain, but Dawn Rain took advantage of the moment to climb on top of White Feather Straddling her at the chest and pinning her arms to the side of her head with her legs.  She was careful, however to keep her massive breasts away from White Feathers face to make sure she didn’t return the painful bite.

Dawn Rain couldn’t be happier.  The smile on her face was was wicked, almost evil.  “Give up you old Crow.  Give me what is mine.”  She looked up to Charging Bear’s rigid spear in the darkness and licked her lips eagerly.  White Feather said nothing wriggling under foe trying to escape.  “Give up!!!”  She emphasized her words balling up her fist and punching White Feather in the face with a hard smack.  White Feather was stunned by the blow and said nothing.  “I am meant to be his Top Squaw.  We all know it.  Now GIVE UP!!!”  This time Dawn Rain punched behind her into her rivals firm belly.  She was rewarded with a low moan, but still White Feather would not give up. Three more times she drove her fist into White Feathers belly, but still no surrender.  Frustrated, Dawn Rain aimed a blow at her foes crotch.  As she swung her fist, White Feather heaved with all her might knocking Dawn Rain off balance, at the same time she swung up her legs wrapping them around Dawn Rain yanking her foe backward.  Suddenly White Feathers arms burst free of her off balance foes knees.  She wrenched her arms upward then drove her right elbow directly into her foes unprotected crotch.  “AIIIIIIGGGGHHHHEEEE!!!” Dawn Rain Screamed.  Immediately she tucked into a protective ball and rolled away from White Feather.

White Feather slowly got to her feet.  Blood trickled down her lip and from her wounded breast.  She stood in the moonlight over her wounded enemy looking beautiful and dangerous.  Dawn Rain could do nothing but sob and clutch her wounded doon in the moonlight.  “I am his Top Squaw.  I was his first.  I will always be his first.  Even when another took my place, I was still his first.  And the very next moon I took him back.  I have been kind to the others.  I have been kind to you.  I shared what was mine.  And we all got along.  But not you.  You have been nothing but a rat in our tent.  You bully those beneath you, and defy those above you. You like no one and nobody likes you!!!”  White Feather emphasized her point with a brutal kick to Dawn Rains belly.  Dawn Rain wailed in pain and rolled with the force of the blow away from her tormentor.  White Feather allowing no retreat.  She followed Dawn Rain kicking the poor woman again and again as hard as she could in the belly, the doon, the breasts.  With each kick the force was so great White Feather’s breasts jiggled violently as well.  But she did nothing to control their heaving devoting all of her attention and energy into her devastating kicks into her hated rival.  Charging Bear watched his First Squaw hungrily in the darkness his spear aching to claim her, urging him to declare the fight over and White Feather top squaw.  He knew Dawn Rain was finished.  And allowing White Feather’s continued brutalizing of her vanquished foe only delayed their inevitable rematch.  But he also knew this fight had been brewing almost two full summers now.  From the day he coupled with Dawn Rain both women had been aching for this fight.  Even he was tired of the constant sniping in his tent.  This fight would end that.  Would the women fight again?  Of course, but only under the full moon as was right. 

White Feather’s foot connected solidly with Dawn Rain’s face sending the defeated squaw sprawling across the clearing.  At last Dawn Rain was concussions and offered no defense at all.  But White Feather still was not done.  The blood raged in her veins.  She could not stop herself.  White Feather knealt hard on Dawn Rain driving her knee into her unconscious foe’s belly.  She then straddled Dawn Rains listless body and wrapped her fingers around her rivals undefended throat.  She began to squeeze when Charging Bear’s low voice shattered the fog of White Feather’s blood lust.  “Enough.”  Startled White Feather’s head spun around toward Charging Bear in the darkness her hands still squeezing the life from Dawn Rain.  She returned her focus again to murdering her rival.  Again, Charging Bear’s voice shatter her bloodlust.  “ENOUGH!!” he said sternly, seriously.  He debated in his mind physically removing White Feather from his Second Squaw.  She was the mother of one of his sons.  To allow her death would be intolerable.

Again, White Feather’s beautiful moonlit face spun around toward Charging Bear.  He could see her unspent rage in her face.  In the distance he could hear the sounds of lovemaking.  White Feather was apparently the only squaw left in the sacred valley still fighting.  Charging Bear whispered quietly to his Top Squaw “Enough… you have won.  You are my first Squaw.  You are again my Top Squaw.  Dawn Rain has been taught her lesson.  She will not defy you in our tent again until she has earned that right.”  He paused a moment.  His sensitive ears could hear White Feathers labored panting.  He could see her breasts taut with the exertion of murdering Dawn Rain in the Moonlight rising and falling with each breath.  For a moment, he thought White Feather would not let go.  Charging Bear breathed a sigh of relief as he saw White Feather’s arms begin to relax and heard Dawn Rain’s unconscious gasp as air again moved into her lungs then her quiet breathing in the darkness returning to normal.

White Feathers face slowly transformed from a Mask of Rage back to it’s beautiful normal form.  She could see Charging Bear’s spear in the darkness.  She felt a twinge of shame as she felt her fingers loosening on Dawn Rain’s throat.  She had gone too far in her beating of her rival.  But in her mind she justified it to herself.  Dawn Rain had been asking for this beating two summers now.  She had been defiant.  She had been cruel.  She needed to be taught her place in the tent.  And had Dawn Rain been the victor, would she be any more forgiving than White Feather?  She doubted it. 

White Feather pushed the regrets aside in her mind.  There would be time for regrets later on.  Dawn Rain’s battered body would be a warning to Charging Bear’s other squaws.  It would ensure her place as first and bring relative peace to his tent.  Dawn Rain’s bruises would heal.  White Feather would attend to her defeated foe’s wounds herself.  Now was not the time for regrets.  It was a time for celebrating and mating.

White Feather rose from her defeated foe’s shattered body and walked across the moonlit clearing to her warrior.  She stood before him a moment allowing him to drink in her full beauty and power.  She then stepped carefully over his knees and slowly lowered herself down on him in one smooth movement pulling his warriors spear within her.  She wrapped her legs around her warriors strong body and began riding him as he thrust into her again and again.  The last of her rage washed away from her replaced fully with a wave of lust.  In her mind White Feather prayed to the Moon Goddess.  She thanked the goddess for her victory of Dawn Rain.  She thanked the Goddess she was again Charging Bear’s Squaw, that she was his First Squaw, that she was his top squaw.  She prayed for the gift of another papoose.  A son.  A daughter.  It did not matter.  She would be grateful for any gift of the Moon Mother.

Bathed in the moonlight the couple continued their ritual mating.  White feather moaned loudly to the Moon Goddess declaring her victory over her rival and announcing to all challengers that tonight Charging Bear was hers and no other could have him.  Charging Bear grunted louder and louder as well his exertion thanking the Moon Goddess for the gift of squaws as strong and perfect as White Feather and Dawn Rain.  Their combined efforts were a gift to the Moon Goddess.  The first of several gifts the amorous couple would make this night. 

Oblivious to all, Dawn Rain’s fitful battered dreams drifted from her Viscous battle, to her loss, to the land of the dead, and back again.  In her dreams the Moon Goddess appeared to her in the form of a Snowy White Owl.  She watched over her battle with White Feather and as it appeared she would win the owl pulled her off White Feather giving to her hated rival.  Moon Mother looking on approvingly as White Feather brutally punished Dawn Rain and sent her to the land of the dead.  Moon Mother took pity on Dawn Rain brought her back from the land of the dead, and then spoke to her.  Moon Mother whispered to Dawn Rain of her disappointment with her.  She had failed to follow her law:  Top Squaw Rules the tent.  Moon Mother had given Dawn Rain everything.  She had brought her to the tent of the most desirable brave in the tribe.  She had given her a son on her first coupling.  She had given her victory over Squaws above her.  And never had Dawn Rain given her thanks.  Never had she shown mercy she defeated.  This was not the end for her.  Moon Mother would give her another chance if she could learn to obey Moon Mother’s first law.  Until then she would never been top squaw.  She would never be first in her tent.  Dawn Rain prayed in her dreams for forgiveness and promised to obey.  “We shall see” Moon Mother Hooted in the darkness.  “We shall see….”

The End

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