One of the reasons jaguars were so hard to hunt, Zolin reflected as he padded through the jungle, was that they left nothing in the way of a visible trail. They were like phantoms, appearing to human eyes as if by accident, and lingering for only scant seconds before vanishing into the green depths of the forest once more. Even finding their scat was difficult. Just finding one was a challenge in and of itself, let alone slaying it. That would come with a whole host of other dangers, namely the animal’s razor-sharp teeth and claws. Jaguars were not normally aggressive, but they were as lethal as any other predator when they felt cornered or threatened.
But the cats did have one weakness: they needed water as much as any other animal. If Zolin found a decent watering hole, one might show up eventually. It was simply a matter of patience, timing, and more than a little luck.
The watering hole was small, no more than a depression in the earth filled with stagnant water. A few dead trees grew around it, their skeletal fingers reaching up to the sky like supplicants. The air was heavy with the scent of rot and decay. It was the perfect place for a jaguar to come and quench its thirst.
Zolin knelt at its edge and began slathering himself with handfuls of thick black mud. This would serve to both hide his scent from a jaguar’s keen nose and conceal him from sight. That done, he hid himself in a thick cluster of reeds and crouched, his ears straining to catch the slightest sound that might betray the presence of his quarry. All he had to do now was wait and hope the gods smiled on him.
He waited for a long time. Morning turned to late morning and then afternoon. He was about to call it quits and seek out another potential hunting ground when he saw it.
It appeared like a wraith. Zolin looked away to brush an insect away from his face, and when he turned back, it was just there. A fully-grown jaguar, a strong young male by the look of him, craned its head to lap at the water’s edge, its tail twitching lazily as if it had a mind of its own.
Zolin couldn’t help but stare at it. Everything about the creature spoke of grace and speed and power, from the way it moved to the muscles bunched beneath its fur to the feral yellow shade of its eyes. It was magnificent, a true lord of the jungle. It was the embodiment of everything Zolin aspired to be.
He was almost sorry he had to kill it.
Take heart, he thought, reaching slowly and silently for an arrow. Your pelt will be put to worthy use. Your claws will adorn a necklace draped about the neck of my woman.
He nocked the shaft on his bowstring, taking care not to take his eyes off his quarry. The flint arrowhead would not kill the jaguar, but it would wound it, slow it down, and make slaying it a more even contest. That was important. How he made this kill mattered just as much as the kill itself. He had to face his quarry in a fair fight, match his strength against the jaguars, and win. Anything else would offend the gods and demonstrate unforgivable weakness.
The jaguar sensed his presence, or perhaps it was merely instinct. It lifted its head and turned slowly, its ears flattening against its skull. Zolin felt his heart pounding in his chest as their eyes met. The cat’s yellow gaze was unblinking, unyielding, and for a moment he thought it would turn and slink back into the shadows from which it had come. Instead, it growled low in its throat, baring its fearsome teeth in a snarl that would have made other men tremble with fear.
Zolin was not other men. He saw his chance and took it. Even as the jaguar tensed to leap back into the foliage from whence it came, he let his arrow fly.
The shaft struck true, thudding into the creature’s left shoulder. It yowled in pain and shock, then turned and fled, seeking sanctuary in its green domain.
Zolin followed at an unhurried pace. The jaguar left a blood trail that even a child could follow, and he had all the time in the world to catch up with it.
He found it a short while later, lying on its side in a small pool of red. The arrow stuck out of its body at an angle, and its wooden shaft was marred by teeth marks, evidence of its frantic attempt to pull it free. But when it saw Zolin, all such efforts ceased. Perhaps it knew on some level, that its time had come, because it slowly and painfully rose to its full height, like a wounded king struggling from his throne.
Hate blazed in its yellow eyes and it bared its fearsome teeth and roared. The sound sent birds squawking into panicked flight from the trees. Zolin felt it in his very bones. The jaguar’s wickedly curved claws unsheathed like blades of black steel.
Zolin nodded grimly and leveled his spear at it, though not before jabbing its wicked point toward the sky in a warrior’s salute.
They stood there for a moment, man and beast, predator and prey, staring down at each other as if locked in place. Then, with eye-blurring speed, the jaguar struck!
It leaped at him, jumping high despite the pain of its wounded limb, its claws outstretched and fanged maw open wide to rip Zolin’s throat and tear open his belly. But Zolin was of the Aiwaha and did not flinch or try to dodge the strike. Instead, he stepped toward it and jabbed his spear blade upward at a sharp angle.
Rather than bowling him over beneath its furry bulk, the jaguar impaled itself through its midsection. Zolin drove his weapon through it with such force that its wicked tip punched clean through its back and out the other side. Crimson blood sprayed and misted the humid jungle air.
It slid almost halfway down the tall wooden haft, and Zolin let the weapon fall from his fingers, taking a careful step back as the dying beast lashed out blindly and writhed in its death throes. But soon its movements grew sluggish and weak as blood loss and shock took their toll. Some last, savage impulse drove it to bite the ground, and then it collapsed and lay still.
Zolin waited for another two minutes, just to make sure it was dead. Then he hurried over to the warm carcass and pulled a small obsidian blade from the belt of his loincloth. The knife was small but lethally sharp–perfect for skinning a fresh kill.
He looked up at the thick canopy of trees high overhead and murmured a prayer of thanks to the gods. Then he set about the bloody work of claiming his hard-won prize.
Back in Tlacloban, Lin Ming and the others were roused from sleep shortly after dawn. Harwood, already wide awake and wearing a wide smile, nudged each of them awake with her bare foot.
“Get up, sleepyheads,” she trilled. “We’ve got a busy day ahead of us!”
Lin Ming yawned, stretched, and remembered she was naked. Her first instinct was to cover herself and curl into a ball, but she stopped herself at the very last moment. I must remember it is normal here.
“What have we got planned?” Brian asked, his words interrupted briefly by a cavernous yawn.
“Tenoch and a few of the other hunters are going to teach you boys the basics of hunting like the Aiwaha do,” Harwood said. “The girls and I will learn how to cook some traditional Aiwaha dishes and learn some of their oral history. In the afternoon, we’ll all get together and start learning how to speak their language.”
“Can I do the history stuff too?” Richard inquired.
Jeremy rolled his eyes. “Nerd.”
Richard held up a middle finger to him without even turning his head. Harwood suppressed an eye roll. “Perhaps when you get back,” she said.
“W-will Metztli be there?” Isaiah didn’t look very well-rested at all, Lin Ming noted. He must not have slept at all.
The professor arched an eyebrow. “Why do you ask?”
“She scares the shit out of me.”
“Really? I think she’s actually quite fond of you.”
Isaiah looked away. “She’s got a funny way of showing it,” he mumbled.
Harwood looked as if she wanted to ask what he meant, but seemed to decide against it. Instead, she said, “Metztli will be there, yes. At least for some of it.”
To Lin Ming’s confusion, the boy turned a shade paler.
“Oh, come on,” Harwood said, putting a reassuring arm around his shoulders. “You’ll be fine.”
Before Isaiah could respond, several Aiwaha girls who looked around 12 or 13 padded into the hut, carrying fresh food in their arms. There was, of course, plenty of fruit, but the main breakfast staple was a brown plant that looked a little like a carrot, though it was fatter and wider.
Richard eyed one suspiciously. “What’s that?”
“Manioc,” Harwood explained. “It grows naturally in tropical climates. It’s really quite good, and you can do all sorts of things with it. It’s as versatile as the potato.”
Brian grimaced. “I hate potatoes.”
“Then it’s a good thing it tastes nothing like them. It actually has a mildly nutty, subtly sweet flavor.” A warning tone crept into Harwood’s voice. “But even if that weren’t the case I would still expect you to eat it. To refuse food when offered would be a great insult to our hosts. Do you understand?”
Brian nodded hurriedly.
“Good. Then eat up, kids. You’ll need the energy.”
The native girls who’d brought the food watched with amusement as the foreigners ate it.
<“They are really quite strange,”> one of them remarked.
<“My sister has been eyeing the big one,”> another said, pointing to Brian.
The first girl giggled. <“I cannot blame her, Ewan. Look at the size of him. Were he to sire children on her, they would be as big as mountains. As a good sister, you should inquire on her behalf.”>
<“I shall.”> Ewan cleared her throat, walked over to Harwood, and tapped her on the arm.
<“You speak our tongue, yes?”> she asked.
<“I do,”> said the professor in Aiwaha. Her tone was kind as she addressed the child. <“How may I help?”>
<“My sister, Haxti, is drawn to the big one there.”> She pointed at Brian. <“If she came to see him, would he be agreeable?”>
It was a polite way of asking if Brian would be receptive to Haxti’s advances if the older girl tried to have sex with him. Harwood smothered a laugh.
<“I think she’s welcome to try.”>
Ewan smiled. <“Wonderful! I will tell her straightaway, and if she is still set on him, she will come find him later. Thank you!”>
She returned to her friends and they left the hut, chattering excitedly.
“What was that about?” Aisha asked.
“Oh, nothing,” Harwood said breezily. “Just kids being kids.”
Lin Ming found the manioc delicious. It was just like Harwood described, nutty and vaguely sweet, and she ate every bite with relish before washing it down with freshly squeezed juice.
“The juice is made from acai berries,” Harwood commented. “The Aiwaha cultivate them. They grow on palms that can get as tall as 80 feet and produce 40 to 50 pounds of berries each year.”
“It’s delicious,” Lin said softly, taking another sip.
Once they were finished eating, Tenoch and Metztli came to collect the boys for their first hunting lesson. Isaiah almost flinched as Metztli speared him with her fierce dark eyes. She folded her arms over her breasts and smirked.
“Rabbit,” she said, by way of greeting. “You sleep well?”
Isaiah, unable to hold her intense gaze, looked away. She snorted derisively. “Thought so. Still weak. But do not worry, Rabbit. I make you strong. You come with us now, you and Rabbit-friends. We teach. You listen.” Her lip curled into a menacing snarl. “Or else. Got it?”
She turned to the other boys. “You come. You follow. We go hunt. You learn.” She gestured toward the entrance of the hut. “Come on, then.”
<“Ever the diplomat,”> Tenoch sighed. <“Would it trouble you, Metztli, to act just a little friendlier toward our guests? I have met hedgehogs less prickly than you.”>
Metztli didn’t even look over her shoulder at him. <“Shut up.”>
Her voice was cold and flat. Then, with a toss of her head, she turned back to the boys. “What you waiting for?” she demanded, her voice like the crack of a whip. “Move it!”
“Do we get bows and arrows?” Richard asked hopefully.
Metztli sneered at him. “You get hunter’s tools when you show you ready for them. Now quiet! You follow now. And no talking!”
With that, she led the way out of the hut and into the jungle. Harwood watched them go. “They’ll be fine. The boys are in good hands, Tenoch and Metztli will make sure they stay safe out there. Now, who’s ready to learn? Kura, Tlacloban’s storyteller and keeper of history, has graciously agreed to meet with us.”
Gabby was almost bubbling with excitement. “I can hardly wait! This is the whole reason I came on this trip!”
“Yes, I know this is something of a homecoming for you, Gabby, as your own Mayan ancestors probably lived in a village not too different from this one.”
“Before they got their empire on, you mean,” Bonnie joked.
“Indeed.” Harwood’s smile faded and her tone turned serious. “I want to impress on all of you what a privilege it is for Kura to share the history and stories of her people with us. Rarely are such things ever shared with outsiders. The Aiwaha are giving us a great honor, and Kura’s position is one of enormous cultural importance. I expect all of you to treat her with nothing but the greatest possible respect. Are we clear?”
Lin Ming nodded, and the other girls all indicated assent.
“Great!” Harwood’s normal, cheery attitude returned in an instant. “Then let’s get this party started!
They emerged from the hut into the hot, humid day. Tlacloban bustled all about them, its people going about their daily tasks as they’d done for time immemorial. Harwood led them through one of the winding streets before stopping at a hut, larger than the others around it, that stood apart from the rest.
Kura was waiting for them, and she looked as tiny and as old and as gnarled as an ancient tree. Her long hair was wizened and snowy white, and she hunched over on a twisted wooden cane held in one withered hand. Her face was a mask of wrinkles, but the dark, rheumy eyes that stared out from within the folds of flesh were snapping with intelligence. It was impossible to tell if she was wearing clothes; most of her body was hidden beneath the folds of her long hair.
<“Welcome,”> she said, in a voice that creaked like trees bending in a strong wind. <“I am Kura, the storyteller and keeper of history for the Aiwaha people. It is my honor to share with you some of the stories that have been passed down through the generations, as every storyteller before me has done. Please, come in.”> She gestured for them to enter.
The inside of the hut was cooler than they expected and dimly lit by the light filtering through the thatch roof. Lin made to sit, but Harwood gestured for her to stop.
“We don’t sit until she does,” she explained. “It is a way of showing respect.”
Kura seemed amused by their deference. <“No need for that,”> she said. “<I’m too old for such ceremony. Sit, please, and listen. You have come from far away to be here, very far. Perhaps, when I have shared my stories with you, you will share some with me in turn.”> The old woman sat with a groan of relief. <“That’s better. Now. Where to begin? What story would you like to hear first?”>
Harwood translated, and Bonnie instantly had a suggestion. “Ask her if she can share the story of the war with that other tribe, the one you told us about before we left, Professor.”
When the professor relayed this to Kura, the ancient historian smiled. <“Ah, yes. The Dalunga. A thousand curses on their dusty bones. Yes, I will tell that story.”>
Krupa nodded eagerly. “Can you also ask her if it’s okay if I record it? I’d love to post it on my streaming channel when we get back to the States!”
Harwood frowned. It seemed a reasonable enough request, though when she translated it for Kura, she was careful to be as respectful and deferential as possible.
<“One of my students wishes to preserve your story so that she can share it with many others when we return to our homeland. She will do this by recording the sound of your voice, and my voice, on a small device she carries. She will capture the tale word for word, exactly as it has always been told. Honored Kura, will you consent to this?”>
Kura frowned, considering the request carefully.
<“It is not forbidden,”> she finally said. <“I will allow it.”>
Krupa pumped a fist into the air and switched her phone on. “Yes!”
Harwood silenced her with a sharp look and inclined her head toward the storyteller. <“We are honored. Please share your story with us.”>
Kura closed her eyes as she began. <“Many generations ago, the Dalunga and the Aiwaha were bitter enemies. Our people wished only to be left alone, to eat good food, and enjoy the gift of life the gods have given us. We wished to till our fields, to hunt, to make grateful offerings each year at the Festival of Fertility. But the Dalunga were a greedy and warlike people. They saw how bountiful our beautiful home was, and they coveted our territory, territory bequeathed to us by the gods, for themselves. One terrible day, they attacked Tlacloban when most of the men were out hunting and massacred those who remained. Innocent women were raped and butchered, and infants were impaled on Dalunga spears. Then they stole all they could carry and burned the rest.”>
Kura paused, opening her eyes and regarding them all solemnly. <“The men returned from the hunt to find their wives and children slaughtered. They howled like wounded beasts and rallied around their chief, who swore an oath of blood vengeance to the gods even as the blood of Tlacloban’s dead still lay wet upon the earth. He vowed that even if it took a thousand generations, he would see the Dalunga people wiped from the face of the world, their memory expunged, their stories and histories thrown down into darkness. Word of what happened soon spread to other Aiwaha villages, and many chieftains flocked to lend their support to this worthy cause.”>
Harwood translated her words to her students, who listened, enraptured. Lin Ming shivered at the thought of such wanton brutality.
<“The vengeance of our people came swiftly. United, we took the fight to the heart of the foe, destroying one Dalunga village after another. In each village that fell, all Dalunga who stood taller than the knee of a grown man were executed, but the infants and small children were adopted into our own tribe. The great chief’s heart was not made wholly of stone, and he would not suffer the deaths of such innocents to lay heavy on his heart. More, it was a form of just vengeance–recompense for the slaughtered young ones of Tlacloban, and by raising these children as our own, we ensured the traditions of the Dalunga died with those who fell.”>
That came as a relief to Lin Ming, who nodded at Harwood’s translation.
<“Eventually, the chieftain of the Dalunga and all his surviving followers made a final stand in the shadow of a great cliff. The battle was terrible and many brave warriors of our people fell. In the midst of that storm, our great high chief met the Dalunga leader in single combat. It was a terrible sight to see, for both men were fell fighters, crafty and war-wise after years of bitter struggle. But the gods lent their strength to our chieftain’s arm, and their will guided the blade of his spear, and at long last he struck down his enemy. When he fell, the spirit went out of the Dalunga and they tried to flee, but none escaped the spears and arrows of our warriors. In the aftermath, the head of the Dalunga chief was taken back to Tlacloban. It was placed in a pot to boil the flesh away, and his bleached skull has been passed from one High Chief to another to this very day.”>
Kura reached into a small basket nearby and took something out of it. Lin Ming gasped when she saw what it was.
It was an aged human skull, the white bone turned deep yellow with age.
The skull of the Dalunga.
“Holy shit,” Krupa whispered. “My subscribers are gonna love this.“
Kura smiled sadly. <“You must understand, children, that our warriors did not fight for the sake of glory or conquest. They fought to protect our homes, our people, and our way of life. They fought to ensure that what happened in Tlacloban would never happen again. It is a solemn reminder to all who hold the position of High Chief that the burden of leadership is a heavy one and that it must be borne with wisdom and compassion. The skull of the Dalunga chief is not a trophy to be displayed with pride; it is a reminder of the terrible cost of war, and of the responsibility that comes with being a leader of men.”>
She took a sip of water from a nearby gourd. <“In time, Tlacloban was rebuilt and its people prospered once again. The gods looked upon us with pity and love in their hearts, and we grew strong from one generation to the next. As time passed, the Dalunga conflict became a myth instead of history, and many Aiwaha were born, lived, and died without ever knowing the grimness of war. Until the pale men came, with their great beasts and weapons of metal.”>
“The Spanish,” Aisha guessed.
Kura shrugged when Harwood translated the younger girl’s swords. <“We call them by a different name, but yes. They came in great waves, seeking some mythical city of yellow stone or some other such nonsense, and many other tribes felt the flail of their wrath. But we Aiwaha, ever blessed by our gods, were spared such devastation. We hid ourselves away from the world and ensured none of the pale-men who discovered us lived to tell of it. We became forgotten by the world at large.”> She gave Harwood a wry smile. <“Until this one stumbled into Tlacloban for the first time. I would not have chosen to have the wider world know of our existence, but perhaps it was inevitable. And she has proven a steadfast and loyal friend of our people.”
Harwood bowed her head. <“You honor me.”>
“Ask her if the Aiwaha had any contact with Mayans,” Gabby said eagerly.
Kura looked puzzled when the professor related the question. <“Who?”>
Harwood gave Gabby a rueful smile. “Guess that’s a no.”
Gabby visibly deflated, but Aisha did her best to cheer her up. “Hey, it’s okay. Don’t let it ruin the trip for you.”
“But I was really hoping…” Gabby sighed. “Ah, never mind. I’ll get over it. Eventually.”
<“Now, I’m sure you have other things to do today, other things to learn,”> said Kura. <“My lids grow heavy and I wish to have a nice nap. Be well, young ones, and let your stay with us open your eyes as much as it opens ours.”>
<“We thank you for your time,”> Harwood assured her, and at her gesture, Lin Ming and the others nodded. They voiced their thanks in unison, then left Kura to rest.
“That was incredible,” Krupa gushed. “Honestly, you could make a movie out of a story like that!”
“Remind not to piss these people off,” Bonnie agreed. “I mean…fuck, that was metal. Did you enjoy it, Lin?”
Lin tried to smile. “I…enjoyed it, yes. But it was a very grim tale, and so many died. I am glad that the Aiwaha spared the children.”
“Yeah, that would’ve sucked otherwise,” agreed the blonde slut. “Good to know they kept the moral high ground, relatively speaking.” She turned to Harwood hopefully. “Mind if we take a break so I can go get some dick?”
Harwood shook her head at Bonnie’s irrepressibility. “Fine. Just be back in an hour.”
“You know it.” Bonnie headed off eagerly, her loins visibly wet with anticipation.
Aisha watched her go before turning her attention back to the group. “I hope we can go see Kura again soon. I’d love to hear more about the Aiwaha’s mythology and the gods they worship.”
“We will,” the professor promised.
Gabby looked thoughtful. “I wonder if the boys are having as much fun as we are.”
The answer to Gabby’s question, as it turned out, was a resounding no. The boys were not, in fact, having very much fun at all. Their first outing into the jungle as honorary members of the tribe was slow going, made slower by the fact that none of them even knew how to even walk through the forest without making too much noise. Metztli wondered how any of the foreigners had managed to survive long enough to reach Tlacloban and chalked it up to the humorous whims of the gods. Perhaps they were amused by the foreigners’ ignorance and stupidity. She, however, was not. Nor did she make any attempt to hide it.
“No!” she snarled in English. “You too loud when walking! Walk like this, see?” She put a foot down, then another, moving it slowly from side to side to distribute her weight evenly with each step. “Heel should not hit ground first! You do it wrong! Try again!”
Jeremy, Isaiah, Richard, and Brian all hastened to follow her instructions. Under her menacing stare, they all took a single step and did their best to imitate what Metztli had just done. Richard and Jeremy actually didn’t do too badly, but Brian, being bigger and heavier, was having a rough go of it. No matter how careful he tried to be, leaves and sticks kept crunching beneath him.
Isaiah, by contrast, was actually picking up the skill of stealth-walk faster than all the others. This pleased her, though she was careful not to show it. Perhaps, because he was so weak, stealth came more naturally to her Rabbit than most, in the same way that hiding in holes or beneath thick leaves came naturally to small animals.
She pushed such thoughts aside and berated Brian angrily. “No! You do it wrong!” The haft of her spear thwacked against the back of one of his legs. “Again! And again and again, until you get it right!”
“Ow!” Brian yelped, rubbing his leg. “Hey, easy there, Metal Maiden.”
Metztli gave her a withering glare and he promptly stopped talking.
Tenoch shook his head with disapproval. <“You are being too hard on them. They have only just arrived here. There is plenty of time for them to learn–they do not have to master everything in a day.>”
Metztli snorted. <“I am not being too harsh. You are being too soft. You indulge them.”> She turned her back on Tenoch and focused on her charges. “You two.” She jabbed a finger at Isaiah and Richard. “You come with me. We practice.” She turned to Brian and Jeremy. “You two stay here, let Tenoch babysit you.”
She led the two boys deeper into the forest, away from the rest of the group. When she was certain Tenoch and the others were out of earshot, she turned to Isaiah and Richard. “Walk. Like I showed you. Make no noise. Practice.”
“How long will we walk for?” Isaiah asked.
She curled her lip. “Till I say stop, Rabbit. Now shut up.”
With that, she began to lead them down a well-worn game track, setting a remorseless pace that both Isaiah and Richard were hard-pressed to follow. It was extremely difficult for them to both match Metztli’s speed while also following her instructions on the proper way to walk silently, but as she led them deeper and deeper into the green depths, it started to become less forced and more natural. There was a strange rhythm to it, Isaiah discovered, almost like music, and once he realized that, he found he was able to start predicting each beat of the silent song and match his movements accordingly. His body was sheened with sweat and he was breathing hard, but he wasn’t falling too far behind either. He couldn’t match Metztli, far from it…but he was definitely improving, and improving quickly.
After more than an hour, Metztli came to a sudden halt. Isaiah mirrored her, studying the way she dug her heels into the thick wet earth and rotated her hips to keep her balance as her momentum slowed. He managed to come to a somewhat smooth stop–not as silent or flawless as hers, but not as bad as Richard’s either. Richard nearly tripped over his own legs, stumbling and waving his arms wildly before Isaiah caught him and helped him balance.
“Idiot,” Metztli sneered, making Richard flush with humiliation. “You learn nothing. Stupid.” She turned to Isaiah. “You do better. Much better. You surprise, Rabbit. Perhaps you not hopeless waste of time after all.”
“Gosh, thanks,” Isaiah replied caustically.
She ignored his tone. “We go back now, same way, same thing. I lead. You follow. Be silent. I watch you closely.” She moved a little closer, her eyes growing heavy with lust as she looked Isaiah up and down. Her naked body was glistening with sweat, which meant Isaiah didn’t notice how her pussy grew damp with anticipation when she added, “If you do good, I reward you.”
A shiver of both fear and desire crawled down Isaiah’s spine. Desire, because Metztli was beautiful by any objective standard. Fear, because when they’d fucked the previous night, she’d damn near left him comatose.
He nodded once, swallowing hard. “I-I’ll try.”
“No!” Metztli said harshly. “You do, or do not. You succeed, or you fail. No such thing as ‘try,’ Rabbit.” She grabbed his shoulder and yanked him close enough that their noses were almost touching. “Got it?”
Isaiah’s head bobbed so fast he almost made himself dizzy. Metztli released him with a snarl, then turned and began leading them back the way they’d come. Her movements were sure and her eyes were fixed squarely ahead. More, Isaiah couldn’t tear his eyes away from how her breasts bounced with each step and her hips swayed from side to side.
Meanwhile, back in Tlacloban, Harwood and her female students were taking a break for lunch. The fare was as delicious as it’d been the night before, with smoked meat aplenty, juices of several kinds to drink, and maize corn cooked over an open fire and seasoned with spices made from local plants. Lin Ming, Aisha, Krupa and Gabby all ate heartily, but there was one who wasn’t present, and that was Bonnie. The blonde super-slut (and she would be the first to proudly describe herself as such) was currently preoccupied. She was on all fours, as naked as the rest of her classmates, and her eyes were rolled up in her head with ecstasy as three young Aiwaha men pounded all three of her holes at the same time in broad daylight. Two of them mercilessly fucked her pussy and ass, while a third rammed his cock down her throat with savage thrusts.
“So,” Harwood said, doing her best to ignore Bonnie’s choked, gurgling moans of pleasure and the smack-smack-smack of flesh on flesh. “How are you all liking your stay so far?”
Lin Ming did her best not to stare at Bonnie’s debasement, her face a fiery shade of red. “It is…very interesting,” she said finally. “But…I am enjoying it so far.”
“I just hope Bonnie doesn’t push herself too hard,” Krupa said. “She’s like, gone off the rails, and even someone like her has their limit.”
As if in answer, Bonnie gave a choking, gurgling squeal as the man throat-fucking her came with a hoarse shout, filling her mouth with so much cum it made her gag and choke. A heartbeat later the guys fucking her pussy and ass also reached their crescendo, and spewed their hot sticky loads inside her.
“Ahhhhh…” she moaned, her head falling forward as she finally managed to swallow some of the cum. She took a few shuddering breaths before pushing herself up on all fours, her body covered in sweat and semen. More of it dripped and gushed out of her nubile body. Her tongue snaked out to lick some of it from the corner of her mouth. “Oh, yeah. That’s what I needed.”
“You need a bath, is what you need,” Gabby informed her.
Bonnie smiled at the curvy, dark-haired girl, her eyes half-lidded and still glazed over with pleasure. “Maybe later. Right now, I just need some rest and something to eat. Is there any food left?” She stretched languidly, arching her back and thrusting out her breasts. “Thanks for the show, guys,” she said to the Aiwaha men who’d just taken their turn with her. Her voice was a satisfied purr. “See you later. Come find me if you wanna do it again.”
“She’s really gone off the deep end this time,” Krupa muttered under her breath, shaking her head.
“You’re just jealous,” Bonnie retorted, wiping cum from her cheeks and face. “When was the last time you got to fuck so many hot guys? I bet you couldn’t take so many awesome dicks at once.”
“Maybe I go for quality rather than quantity.”
“Why settle for one or the other when I can have both?” Bonnie accepted handful of food from Harwood with a grateful nod and began devouring it. “Whatcha think, Lin Ming? You wanna try getting railed in all three of your holes at the same time?”
Lin Ming whimpered at the thought. Just one of the Aiwaha looked big enough to break her in two. Three of them would probably tear her apart.
“That…is not for me,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Your loss.”
“Bonnie, stop giving Lin a hard time,” Harwood chided.
“Oh, come on, teach,” Bonnie protested. “She’s just a fucking stick in the mud. I’m just trying to help her loosen up a little. Leading by example, and all that.” She winked at Lin Ming, who quickly averted her gaze. She was about to reply when another young man approached, one she didn’t recognize. It wasn’t one of the males Bonnie had just finished fucking, and it wasn’t Tenoch, either.
The Aiwaha bowed his head in greeting as he approached and turned to Harwood. <“Honored guest, there is a gift waiting for the small one with dark hair. My brother in spirit, Zolin, has returned from a dangerous hunt and has left it at the door to the hut you are staying in, as is our tradition when a man wishes to begin courtship. Please, follow me so she may see it, and gauge his worthiness with her own eyes.”>
Harwood arched an eyebrow. Gabby leaned in close. “What’d he say?”
The professor grinned. “Apparently our friend Lin Ming has a suitor. He’s left a gift for her at the door to our hut, and this young man wishes to show it to all of us.”
Lin Ming’s jaw fell open in a comical gesture of surprise. “Wh-what? I…that is…there must be some mistake. I have not even spoken to any of them by myself!” How can this be possible? Her mind reeled as she struggled to make sense of what she’d just heard. This cannot be true! How could any man of the tribe notice her, when the other girls in her group were so much more buxom, so much more…womanly in their appearance?
The young man, who introduced himself as Xipec, vigorously shook his head when Harwood relayed the question to him. <“There is no mistake. The small one has stirred my brother’s heart and his loins like no other. He is set on her, and has sworn to claim her as his woman.”> He motioned for them to follow. <“Please. This way.”>
“No need to tell me twice.” Krupa got to her feet. “This is something I’ve gotta see. C’mon, Lin Ming–let’s see what your secret admirer’s got for you!”
What else could she do? If she said no, it might be taken as a grave insult, and the last thing Lin Ming wanted to do was cause some sort of diplomatic fiasco. Biting her lip hard, she nodded, a little twitchily, and the entire group of women followed Xipec back to their hut.
There was indeed something lying just outside the entrance. At first, Lin Ming couldn’t tell what it was. But as they walked closer, the nature of the gift was made abundantly clear: the tawny-colored fur with black rosette spots was unmistakably a pelt. A jaguar pelt, freshly cleaned and tanned.
Gabby whistled. “Holy shit. Is that…is that real?”
“Of course it’s real, dumbass,” Bonnie replied. She looked at Xipec. “And the guy who dropped it here, he killed it himself?”
Xipec nodded. <“With a spear, in honorable combat,”> he confirmed. He turned to Lin Ming. <“By this token, he wishes you to see his strength and courage. Few are those who can claim to have killed one of these mighty beasts.”>
“Awww!” Aisha cooed. “It’s like he’s giving you flowers, Lin!”
Lin Ming looked down at the magnificent pelt, feeling an odd mix of embarrassment and pride. “I…I didn’t know…” she stammered. “I mean, I didn’t expect…this is…” She looked around helplessly at her classmates. “I do not even know what this man looks like!”
<“He will make himself known to you at the right moment,”> Xipec assured her. <“For now, I will return to him, and inform him you are most pleased with his gift. Are you not?”>
She struggled to find her voice. “I…I…”
She was about to say no, that this was too much, but something stopped her. Lin Ming remembered looking in the mirror the day before departing on this expedition. She remembered gazing at her naked body, ruefully certain no Aiwaha man would ever give her more than a passing glance.
But now, one had. The hunter who’d procured the pelt–Zolin? Was that how Xipec said his name?–must be very serious indeed if he went to that much effort just to get her attention. In fact, the more she thought about it, it was actually flattering as well as embarrassing. Dana would never let me hear the end of it if I did not at least see what he looks like, she thought. She would never run from an opportunity like this. Therefore, neither shall I.
I have to be brave. I have to be brave.
Father would be positively apoplectic with rage, but then, everything she’d done up until this point would have driven him mad with fury. And Father is not here.
“Yes,” she finally whispered. “I…it is a very nice gift.”
Xipec beamed. <“Wonderful! I will tell my brother that his gift is well-received, and that he may continue his courtship of you. You should be of cheer, small one, and your heart filled with gladness. Zolin is a great hunter and a skilled warrior. Many women of our tribe will be jealous that you, not they, have ensnared him so.”> The young man bowed deeply to Lin Ming and then turned away.
“Well,” Bonnie said, a slow, evil grin spreading across her face. “Looks like things just got very interesting. Pity there’s no popcorn around here. I can’t wait to see how this all turns out!”
Lin Ming knelt and scooped up the thick bundle of fur. It was softer than she’d expected, very soft, and it had been removed from its former owner’s body with exquisite skill. There were no rips or tears in it at all–the skin was wholly complete.
“Remarkable,” Harwood murmured, kneeling to get a better look. “It must have taken hours to remove it with such care.”
“Well, I guess you’ve got to make a good impression, right?” Aisha shrugged.
“Forget the Aiwaha girls, I’m jealous,” Krupa added, folding her arms over her bare breasts. “No one’s going out to kill apex predators with a spear to impress me.“
Lin Ming smiled weakly. “Be careful what you wish for.”
Isaiah, had he been present, would have agreed wholeheartedly. Metztli, true to her word, decided to reward him as soon as she, Isaiah and Richard rejoined Brian and Jeremy, who were still training with Tenoch. Both Brian and Jeremy looked like they’d been put through their paces; they, like the other two boys, were breathing hard and dripping with sweat.
“We done for today,” Metztli announced. “You go now. We try again tomorrow.” When they hesitated, she bared her teeth. “Go on!”
Brian and Jeremy looked at each other, then nodded. “Yes, ma’am,” they said in unison. “We’ll see you tomorrow.” The two boys slumped out of the clearing, still breathing hard. Richard followed, and Isaiah was about to do the same, but Metztli stopped him. “Not you,” she said curtly. “You come with me.”
She snatched his hand in a tight grip and began half-dragging him back to Tlacloban, heedless of his sputtered protests and attempts to reason with her. Metztli brought her right back to the hut she shared with her children and shoved him inside. It was empty–her three daughters and her son were all off being taught valuable things by some of the elders, such as how to weave baskets and how to shoot their first bow, so they had the place to themselves.
Metztli sank to her knees and grabbed Isaiah’s dick with her left hand. “I say I reward you if you do well. You did well. Not very well, but well enough. This your reward.”
Isaiah tried to pull away, but she held him fast. “Metztli, please, not like this.”
“Shut up. You enjoy it last night, yes? Stop acting stupid.”
She began to stroke him, slowly at first, and then more quickly, her grip tightening as he began to respond to her touch. He closed his eyes, trying to focus on something else, anything else, but it was no use. Her hands were too skilled, too knowledgeable. He could feel himself growing harder and harder in her grasp, and he knew that he was going to cum soon, whether he wanted to or not.
That’s exactly what happened. Isaiah gasped as cum sprayed from his erect shaft, splattering Metztli’s hair and face. She looked utterly unaffected by it and kept her ministrations going.
“You see?” she said, her voice a low growl. “You get better. You learn.” Stroking him more, she got to her feet and turned around, bracing her hands against the wall of the hut and baring her pussy to him. “Do it. Now. Or are you weak, Rabbit? Show Metztli. Are you weak, or can you be strong?”
Isaiah looked at her, his breathing still ragged from their run, and hesitated. He wanted to be strong, to be the person she thought he could be, but he was still unsure.
“Take me!” Metztli said harshly. “What, you afraid?”
Isaiah swallowed hard. He didn’t want to disappoint her. He didn’t want her to think he was weak. He moved forward, his heart racing, and positioned himself between her legs. He hesitated for a moment, then leaned in and kissed her softly, gently. She let out a growl of frustration and pushed him away. “Stop with that, Rabbit. No patience for such things, not me.”
Metztli turned back around, deliberately refusing to look at him. “No mushy stuff, got it? Take me. Now! I not fragile. I not break. Do what you want. Make it hurt, even leave bruises if you can. Go on! Act like man, like last night!”
Her words stung, but they also permitted him to let loose. He grabbed her hips and roughly thrust his hips forward, burying himself to the hilt in her body. She cried out, more from surprise than pain, and her hands clenched as she fought to keep her balance against the wall. He began to move faster, harder, taking her roughly, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he lost himself in the heat of the moment.
Her hair whipped against his face with each thrust, but he didn’t care. He felt powerful, in control, and it was a heady sensation indeed.
Metztli’s body arched back, pressing against him, her hips moving in time with his own. Her dark eyes glittered in the dimness of the hut as she coaxed him onward, shouting in her native tongue for him to keep going. Isaiah grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked it backward, making her wince, but then her expression changed to a smirk of wry approval.
He slammed into her over and over, feeling the heat of their bodies mingling as sweat beaded on his brow. Metztli was right; she wasn’t fragile. She wasn’t breakable. She was strong and resilient and beautiful–the epitome of a confident, self-assured and sexy young woman. His thrusts grew more frenzied, more desperate, as he tried to find some release from the intensity of their coupling.
Metztli arched her back further, meeting his thrusts with a ferocity that took his breath away. He could feel the pressure building inside of him, feel the familiar tingle in his groin as his climax neared. He pulled her hair harder, wanting to feel her submission, wanting her to know who was in control.
“Yes!” Metztli said, her eyes wide as dinner plates. “Show me! Do it! Hit me, choke me, take me rough!”
Isaiah gritted his teeth, his hips slamming harder against her, feeling the pressure build within him. He let go of her hair and wrapped a hand around her throat instead, squeezing gently and then with growing pressure. His other hand slapped her cheek once, twice, thrice, then gripped her hip hard enough to make his knuckles turn white.
Metztli’s breath came in rasps as she stared up at him, her dark eyes shining with desire and submission. She met his gaze unflinchingly, her lips parting to reveal her small, perfect teeth. “Like that,” she said in a strained voice. “Good, Rabbit. Very good. Give me your seed. Give me strong child, strong son with fire hair like yours.”
The words should have made him feel alarmed or panicked, but they didn’t. They barely even registered with him. All he could concentrate on was getting off inside Metztli’s amazing, nubile body. He tightened his grip on her throat, making her wince.
It was all too much. Metztli came with a raw, throaty cry. Her body quivered and shook, her pussy squeezing him so hard it was almost painful, and he felt the hot rush of her feminine juices pouring over his shaft as she came.
Isaiah gritted his teeth and thrust hard one last time, feeling his release explode through him as his seed spilled deep inside of her. He growled low in his throat, feeling her flesh pulse and quiver beneath his touch. His whole body trembled from head to toe with the force of his release.
He finally let go of her throat, reluctantly, and she slumped against him. Her body was still joined with his as she sagged against his chest. Isaiah, fearing she might slip and fall to the floor, hurriedly put a hand around her waist to steady her. Her hair was damp with sweat, but her eyes simmered with ferocious heat and a growing…was that fondness he saw?
Whatever it was, it was gone as soon as it appeared, vanishing so quickly he wasn’t sure he’d really seen it at all. “Good,” she finally rasped. “Good, Rabbit. Do well tomorrow, we do this again.”
Isaiah nodded, still trying to catch his breath. The hut was filled with the smell of sex and sweat. He watched, awed, as his cum slopped of her with every step she took away from him. “You go now,” she said, waving him away with a slender hand. “Tomorrow, more lessons. I tired. Not need you anymore today.”
He hesitated for a moment, then turned to leave. He paused in the doorway, looking back at her over his shoulder. Metztli narrowed her eyes.
“Go,” she repeated, her irritation clear. “What you expect? Cuddles? Stupid Rabbit.”
Isaiah flushed but didn’t say anything. He turned and hurried out of the hut, closing the door behind him, and hurried to rejoin Harwood and the others.
“There you are,” the professor said. “Where’ve you been? Richard said you got back almost an hour ago.”
“I was…uh…” Isaiah’s face reddened.
“Well, never mind,” Harwood said with a knowing smile. “I’m sure you were…busy. How was your first hunting lesson with Metztli and Tenoch?
“Tenoch’s pretty chill,” Brian said. “But Metztli scares me to death.”
“It was really interesting, though.” Richard pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “We haven’t even touched a bow or a spear yet. Right now, they want us to learn how to walk silently without scaring the game away. It was all just learning how to walk, but the way they did it…it’s quite effective, actually. I must remember to practice later.”
Isaiah winced, feeling fresh soreness already beginning to set into his tired muscles. I’m not sure how much more practice I can take.
Zolin was waiting for Xipec behind the Great House. His foot tapped the dirt impatiently, and he seemed almost brooding as his brother walked up to him.
<“Well?“> he asked curtly. <“How did it go? What did she say? How did she react?“>
Xipec’s face split in a grin. <“You may relax, Zolin. It went very well! The small one was very impressed by your gift and asked me to convey her reply. She says that the token of your interest in her is well-received, and she has given her consent for you to continue pursuing her.“>
Zolin’s expression brightened visibly. “Thank the gods. I was starting to worry.“>
<“What will you do now, brother? How will you keep her interest?“> Xipec asked.
Zolin paused, considering the question. <“I will approach her, openly, and see how she reacts. She should see what her man looks like. Perhaps she will even let me touch her. I hope so. She seems very…shy.“> The word was unfamiliar in his mouth. <“The way foreigners take shame in their bodies is incomprehensible to me, and she seems worse than the rest in that regard. It is up to me to show her a better way.“>
Xipec nodded agreement. <“The ways of the outside world are always a source of great confusion,“> he said. <“Still, do not lose heart. I have no doubt you will win her in the end.“>
He clapped Zolin on the back. <“Now, let us go get something to eat. You will need your strength, I imagine. Wooing a foreigner is never easy.“>
They entered the Great House, where food was cooking. But then, food was always cooking. No sooner had they walked inside than a willowy young woman placed some cooked meat and bananas in their hands, and no sooner had they sat down than two others, both around 18 or 19, walked over and began sucking off Xipec and Zolin as they ate.
Zolin tried to focus on his food, but the sensations from the girl kneeling between his legs were impossible to ignore. Her lips were soft and her tongue was expert, drawing him deeper into the heat of her mouth. He could feel her hair tickling his thighs as she sucked him off, and the sensation was almost overwhelming.
Xipec too was really enjoying himself. The young woman giving him a blowjob looked up at him with big, dark eyes and her mouth curved into a lascivious smile. Removing her lips from his shaft for a moment, she whispered, <“You planted a child in my cousin a few weeks ago. Would you please give me one as well? I have kept careful track of my cycle, and today is my peak.”
Xipec chortled. <“I think I remember your cousin,“> he said. <“Of course, I would be happy to do that for you. Let us ascend to the realm of the gods together, here and now.“>
He took her by the shoulders, pulling her to her feet. She looked up at him with a smile of pure desire.
Their lovemaking was furious and passionate. Xipec pinned her against the wall, his strength easily overwhelming her. She cried out with pleasure as he took her roughly from behind, her nails digging into his back. Zolin fucked the other girl in standing doggy, her breasts swaying with each thrust of his hips.
The Great House filled with the sounds of their coupling. The two young women moaned and cried out, their bodies writhing beneath the men’s. Zolin felt his climax building, his hips snapping faster and harder as he drove into the girl. With a shout, he released himself deep inside her, his seed spilling out to mix with her own juices. Xipec hit his orgasm not long after and held the woman tight, plunging into her with one last thrust and spewing his cum deep into her womb.
The two men were breathing heavily as they pulled out of the girls, who stared up at them with contented expressions. The two men were breathing heavily as they pulled out of the girls, who stared up at them with contented expressions. Xipec’s partner giggled. <“Well, that was fun! You more than lived up to everything my cousin told me about you.“> She straightened with a contented laziness and gave him a peck on the cheek. <“I thank you.“>
Xipec smiled back. <“It was my pleasure. I hope you will find yourself with child soon. Please come to me whenever you wish.“>
Zolin took a swig of water as the two girls left. <“A fine diversion. I look forward to teaching the small woman how best to please me, and showing her how high she can climb when I take her. She seems very ignorant in such matters. Perhaps that is why I am drawn to her.“>
<“I thought you simply found her exotic,“> Xipec said.
<“That too,“> admitted Zolin.