"Going Native," part 17

The next morning, Maggie awoke from a tangle of limbs and resolved to wash the semen and vaginal fluid cakes all over her body.  She had had her first orgy the night before, and while she was eager to continue to explore her her status as a full-fledged Tineri woman, she had to clean up first.  Alone, she embarked for the brook.

As she walked, Maggie took a moment to adjust to her new body.  Her head swayed differently now that hair no longer flowed down her back.  She actually had to duck a few times to avoid branches snagging her afro.  An even bigger change was the mammoth tits now protruding from her chest.  Each step caused them to flop up and bang against her midriff.  This was definitely a new sensation for Maggie, a longtime runner whose slender, Caucasian frame didn’t allow for much in the rack department.  “It would be a real bitch to find a sports bra for me now,” she chuckled to herself.  As if she’d ever wear a bra again...

She also took the opportunity to enjoy the sight of her ebony skin in sunlight.  The leather loincloth she wore just looked better with black legs coming out of it.  Her bare feet also somehow looked more natural (and spectacular) set against the footpath, now that they were brown.

At last, she arrived at the brook and waded in.  Catching her new visage reflected in the water, Maggie was startled at the African woman staring back at her.  The blonde, blue-eyed suburban American girl tourist no longer existed.  In her stead was a black Tineri woman, with brown eyes and a mop of dark, kinky hair.  Her carefully sculptured fine nose was now large, flat, and wide, with a prodigious rod traversing it from nostril to nostril and multiple septum and nose rings dangling, each attached to her left ear by chains fashioned out of a bracelet and necklace her parents had given her.  The thin lips genetics had cursed her with were now luscious.  Perfect for wrapping around N’krzi’s gargantuan cock, and the staggering chocolate mounds that exploded from her chest ensured that he'd regularly give her the chance to service him.  

Ah, that cock…  Her ass and pussy were still a little sore from his use the night before, but the regular practice she expected would soon render her orifices cavernous.  Penetration by anything less than 10 inches would be futile.  “That rules out any of my old boyfriends,” Maggie thought to herself.  

She heard some splashing upstream and went to investigate.  Maggie had always been slightly adventurous, but the new Maggie revelled in new experiences.  The white Maggie had been scared even to get a tattoo; the new Maggie loved the ritualistic scars N’krzi had left covering her arm and face.  Whereas Maggie once wore designer clothes, she now she wore a simple loincloth.  And the enormous shoe collection she amassed over the years when she was an American was for naught.  She was a dedicated barefooter now, determined never to wear shoes again and proudly displaying her ebony feet, her lengthy toenails, and her myriads of toe rings.  Besides being uncomfortable, shoes would deprive her of the sensations of the ground beneath her toes.  Perhaps most importantly, shoes might get in the way of her indulging in the foot fetish she now accepted as part of her sexuality.

Joining the Tineri didn’t just change Maggie’s appearance - her modesty was completely gone.  One of the naughtiest things she shad ever done back when she was an American was sunbath topless.  The Tineri woman she had become lived topless. A top would only get in the way of M’li or any of her other lovers tugging on her beautiful nipple rings.  Not that that was the only way to get Maggie in the sack.  Constantly horny, Maggie planned on making it a point to eat as much pussy as possible, every day.  She loved riding N’krzi’s cock, but the new Maggie was openly, proudly, and promiscuously bisexual.

Perhaps that would come in handy at that very moment.  Before Maggie, bathing in the brook, was a woman.  Maggie could see a blonde ponytail flipping in the water.  Seconds later, the woman surfaced, rubbing her eyes.  She had on a white tank top Maggie recognized as Eight Sixty brand, just like the one she had bought from Revolve last summer.  Tiny pink nipples were visible through the wet fabric.  The woman’s skin was sunkissed, with cute tan lines indicating she had worn a lot of bikinis lately.  She finished rubbing her eyes.

“Holy shit,” Maggie said, the first English words she had used in months, “Juliana???”