Chapter 2

Senior Constable Cassandra McNamara opened her eyes.

An eerie morning mist had moved in – the early morning sun casting an opaque white glow over the dusty Holden HZ ‘Kingswood’ sedan as Cassandra Louise McNamara lay on the front bonnet. She had no idea what time it was...?

And, nor did the twenty-five-year-old former ‘Miss Territory Police’ have any real memory of what had occurred either...? It all seemed like a vague dream, nothing more, as she stared at the sky in silence.

She still wore her short-sleeved khaki ‘Summer’ uniform dress. Little else.

Several gum trees offered some shade, but it was still almost forty degrees Celsius.

Shrouded in the mist, however, the dazed policewoman felt nothing but euphoria. She had yet to notice the warmth of the morning. And, she was only vaguely aware of the other policewomen as she struggled to account for what she had been subject to earlier in the morning...?

Constable Veronica Kensington was sprawled across the back seat of the police car.

Not that Cassandra could see her. The thirty-two-year-old-year-old was still naked.

Veronica’s discarded uniform dress lay on the grass not far away – the empty bottle of Johnny Walker ‘Red Label’ beside it. A policewoman’s shoe and handbag added an incongruous backdrop to the crumpled policewoman’s dress.

Constable Dominique Robertson still lay on the lush grassy verge.

Still knotted ‘halter style’ about her waist, the brunette’s uniform shirt was wet through – the once crisp khaki fabric accentuating the twenty-eight-year-old’s firm breasts and still-hard nipples as she too stared at the sky in silent contemplation.

Dominique Elaine Robertson was oblivious to everything but the sky above.

With her right hand resting on Dominique’s bare midriff, ‘Trainee’ Constable Savannah Cartwright was lying beside her – her crumpled khaki ‘Summer’ uniform dress draped over the open rear passenger’s side door with Dominique’s uniform pants. She was asleep.

And, it was quite obvious to Cassandra, that they’d spent most of the night ‘pleasuring’ each other on the grass...

Miss Jedda Namajira smiled.

She still wore the short-sleeved white nurse’s uniform dress as she stepped from the mist – her dark skin glistened in the early morning sunlight. Unzipped, the tight-fitting uniform dress was sopping wet.

And, the translucent white fabric clung to her moist skin, revealing that she wore nothing else as she walked slowly toward the unsuspecting policewomen and their car.

She made no noise.

And an almost ethereal aura had attached itself to the beautiful ‘Ngangkari Woman’...

“What do we have here...?” she thought - the beautiful Aboriginal knew only too well, for what had happened that night had been her doing,

“Didn’t I promise you something ‘special’ today?” she whispered.

‘Mistress’ Jedda’ was not alone.

It was almost a hundred kilometres from the Warramunga Aboriginal Settlement, yet Jedda had come all the way from ‘Cunt Canyon’ without any apparent means of transport – behind her, emerging from the mist, Sister Sonya Gallagher of the Northern Territory District Nursing Service followed the ‘Ngangkari Woman’ as did several ‘twenty something’ Aboriginal women.

The blonde District Nurse was naked.

But, one of the Warramunga women following wore another of the hapless nurse’s short-sleeved white uniform dresses - the rest were naked just like Sonya.

And, like the posse of dark-skinned women with her, the District Nurse was adorned with a variety of tribal body paint. It was the same artwork that ‘Mistress Jedda’ had been wearing when she’d confronted the policewomen some twelve hours earlier.

All were as wet as their mystical mistress ‘Ngangkari Woman’ as they emerged from the mist.

Sonya Michelle Gallagher was no longer ‘missing’ – not that the policewomen had yet realized it.

But, the once troublesome daughter of a former Carmelite Nun and half-caste young Aboriginal ‘Stockman’ was no longer a Nurse. She was just another of ‘Mistress Jedda’ Namajira’s white concubines, for the ancient ‘Dreamtime’ prophecy had come true.

Though born of the Warramunga people of the Northern Territory, Jedda had become a mystical ‘Ngangkari Woman’ – the daughter of the Goddess of Fertility, ‘Wollunqua’ and her destiny preordained in ‘Dreamtime’ legend.

It was whispered that ‘Mistress Jedda’ was to wreak a terrible vengeance on all white women...

“And, they thought they could do what they wanted...?” scoffed ‘Mistress Jedda’ - she too had changed in the last twelve hours, for between her firm thighs, the beautiful ‘Ngangkari Woman’ now had a large penis. And, her once dark brown eyes had the threatening appearance of those of an Australian Water Python.

She was now what the Japanese in their own peculiar way, would call a Futanari.

Neither quite a woman nor a man. And her growing ‘cock’ seemed more like a shimmering Australian Black Snake than a penis as she approached Senior Constable Cassandra McNamara,

“Senior Constable McNamara...?”

The policewoman at first, heard nothing.

Nor did she see the approaching Aboriginal - enchanted by the feelings of euphoria that continued to pass from her aching vagina to the very tip of her tongue, she continued to gaze at the teal-colored morning sky.