The Tribes

Story by Josephine

The Tribes

By Iris Cal

This is a work of erotic fiction, which includes graphic sexual situations between women and hermaphrodites. If this offends you, read no further. If it is illegal for you to read this, I don't give half a shit, since I abide by the First Amendment of the US Constitution and you may do as you wish.

A golden-orange sun rose ponderously into the deep green sky, reflecting brilliantly upon the broken metal and glass of the deserted metropolis before her. April had been told by the village elders that once, the sky had been a vibrant blue, but that was before the War. Once, the City had had a life of its own, lighting the night like millions of jewels, but that was before the war. Now the world was healing from the terrible destruction. Villages like hers had appeared in the forests; refugees which had cobbled together old knowledge of agriculture and sanitation.

It had been the elders' decision not to venture into the City for supplies; the radiation, it was said, was still too dangerous, and would be for decades more, though most had dissipated in the century since the war. April had known better. She thought about it now, as she began walking down the broken concrete highway, staring up at the structures towering over her. Certainly, nothing could crawl out of the buildings and harm her; she was the best daggerswielder in her village. That's why she'd come out here on her own, seeking the supplies her village needed, despite the elders' stubborn denials.

Slowly, she looked around the intersection. Stores lined the bases of the towers, advertising so many different things: clothing, a lawyer's services, telephones, pornography, food... But where might she find what her village needed? One of the last lightsticks had burned out last week, and a hammer had broken only yesterday. They needed tools from the old world still, to run the village.

In the distance, she spotted it. A sign that bore the same design as the logo on one of the lightsticks. Ducking inside the store, she gave her eyes a moment to adjust to the shade, the only light from the sun outside. She made her way through the aisles until she found what she'd been looking for, and a smile crept across her face. Surely, this would absolve her from having snuck out of the village.

Looking around one last time, she took seven of the inch-thick, foot-long black lightsticks. Picking up the last one, she tested it, pressing the rubber button along its length, and a bright beam of light illuminated the store. The light reflected in bright blue unseen eyes, which watched April as she switched it off and pocketed various more tools out of both necessity and curiosity.

As April walked down the broken sidewalk towards the edge of the city, beyond which her village lay, something caught her eye through the window of one of the shops. Suddenly both her daggers were in her hands as she spun around. A woman was in the window, dressed gallantly in one of the most beautiful dresses she'd ever seen... only, there was no head. No arms. The dress fitted the curve of the body perfectly and cascaded in red down around her ankles... which were perfectly white, and perfectly plastic.

April sighed in relief as she sheathed her daggers and studied the mannequin. If she were to be any judge, she'd say that dress would fit perfectly on herself. Given to impulse, she took out a lightstick and opened the door. Across the street, blue eyes watched her enter into the darkness, fixed on her hindquarters, which shimmied inside a pair of tight utility pants.

Minutes later, April had discarded her clothes and was staring at the light, silken red fabric in her hands. She'd never, ever seen such luxurious clothes. Most other girls in her village wore baggy shirts and utility pants, and bound their breasts with strips of cloth to keep them shapely. As she awkwardly slipped into the dress, she noticed that instead of restraining her bosom, the garment accentuated it, wrapping around her slim, athletic body, broadening to fit her hips.

Along the lines of the thought of "Why not? There's still time," she began to try out other clothes. There were some merely to cover her crotch, others draped around her legs with pretty patterns. One type of garment she puzzled over until she figured out they were made to cover the breasts; after trying several on, she decided that a pair marked "30-C" fit her best. Sitting there in the golden light of the lightstick, she reflected on how the elders would never allow her to bring these clothes back into the village... if they let her back in at all, but she really had nothing to lose. If she could not forage for them, there was no place for her there, she'd decided.

That was when she heard a clink. Something had stirred within the department store. Frantically, she swung the light around, edging back towards the end of the aisle where she had discarded her clothes... and her daggers. If she could get to them...

Panic overt

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