As the Festival of Fertility grew closer, the atmosphere in the village was electric. The air was thick with anticipation and the scent of cooking meats filled every corner of Tlacloban. Bonnie lay in the communal hut with the other sacrificial girls, her body a canvas of sweat and cum from the marathon of lovemaking she had endured that day. Her eyes were closed, but she wasn’t sleeping. Instead, she was lost in thought, contemplating the morrow.
It was astonishingly easy for her to come to terms with the fact that in just two short days, she would be dead. Bonnie had always been a bit of a thrill-seeker, and the idea of dying in such a spectacularly erotic fashion was more than enough to make up for any fear or regret she might have felt. Her heart raced with excitement, her pussy was wetter than it had ever been before as she imagined the feeling of the rope tightening around her neck, her breath growing shorter and shorter until she was gasping for air. The orgasms she had experienced so far were a mere taste of what was to come.
She listened to the muffled sounds of the jungle outside, the distant cries of howler monkeys, and the occasional rustle of leaves as an animal passed by. Inside the hut, the other girls were asleep, their breathing deep and rhythmic. Bonnie felt a strange kinship with them, all of them bound by this shared fate. In less than 24 hours all of them would be dead, buried in the crop fields, their flesh and blood nourishing the earth to ensure the tribe’s prosperity. It was a huge turn-on, knowing her body would be used in such a primal, sacred way. She couldn’t help but feel a thrill at the thought of it, her nipples hardening despite the humid night air.
There was no hope of sleep for her. She was too wound up for that. So instead, Bonnie reminisced about some of her past sexual conquests. She thought about the first time she’d ever had sex, back at the water park her parents had brought her to. She didn’t even remember the guy’s name, but she remembered his face well enough. He’d been only a year older than her at the time and as soon as she’d seen him, she’d thought he was cute. Bonnie was already curious about sex even then, so she’d simply walked up to him, tapped him on the shoulder, and asked, “Wanna do it?”
The guy had been flustered, but he’d managed to nod his head. They’d snuck away to a quiet spot behind the water slide and she’d let him fuck her doggy style, the sound of rushing water and the screams of other kids muffling their gasps and moans. It had been fast and furtive, and she had come away feeling like a naughty little slut. That feeling had never really gone away, and she had spent the rest of her life chasing it, seeking out new and more daring sexual experiences. She and the guy–what his name, dammit?–had tried to do the whole boyfriend-girlfriend thing over a long distance, it quickly fizzled and all communication between them had ceased. But she had never forgotten that first taste of freedom, of doing something that she wanted to do, regardless of what anyone else thought of it. And now she was about to experience the ultimate freedom.
She smiled at the memory. It was a bit of a cliché to say that she’d die happy, but in this case, it was true. Bonnie’s mind drifted to her parents, who had no idea what she was doing here. She hadn’t even spoken to them since before she came on this trip with Harwood and the others. Her mother and father would have had a stroke if they knew their daughter was about to be sacrificed to a bunch of people who, from their ignorant perspective, were little more than naked savages. But Bonnie knew better. The Aiwaha were a beautiful people, living in harmony with nature and their gods. Their way of life was pure and untainted by the corruptions of modern society, and she felt more alive and freer here than she ever had back in the stifling environment of her parents’ mansion.
The thought of her family’s reaction to her decision made her snicker. Her mother would probably have a meltdown and her father would start screaming about the family’s reputation and his precious connections. They would probably hold some stuffy funeral for her and go on and on about how much they loved her, but Bonnie had never seen much evidence of that. After she learned to walk she’d been handed to over a series of faceless nannies while Mom and Dad traveled around the world for business. She could count on one hand the number of times they’d actually done anything together “as a family” and still have a few fingers to spare. Bonnie had always felt like a possession to them rather than a daughter–something to show off to their rich friends so they could brag about her achievements.
They would claim to be devastated by her fate, but that was their problem, not hers. The thought of dying tomorrow didn’t scare her; it thrilled her. It was like the ultimate climax, the grand finale to the great sexual odyssey, the glorious cavalcade of hedonism that was her life. And she could hardly wait.
It hadn’t been all fun and games, though. Kura had shown up early the previous morning in the hours before dawn and woken them all up. Bonnie still had no idea how the old woman had the energy to be up and about so early, but if Kura felt tired she didn’t show it. Instead, she gestured to the two young men who followed in her wake, lugging a large basket between them filled with vines.
“What’s that?” Bonnie had asked with a yawn.
<“It is customary,“> Kura had said, <“That each girl uses these vines to weave the rope from which she will perform the Dance of the Gods at the sacred tree. You must use these vines to tie your own noose. It is a symbol of your willingness to offer your lives for our people.”>
Bonnie had watched as the young men set the basket down and pulled out the vines, which looked surprisingly soft and pliable but also strong enough to keep from snapping or fraying. They had shown the girls how to weave the ropes, and even though it was a simple task, it felt incredibly significant. Each loop, each twist of the vines, was a step closer to her destiny. Bonnie took one of the vines and began to weave, her eyes half-closed as she focused on the rhythmic movement of her hands. The vines were a rich green, almost black in the dim light of the hut, and smelled faintly of earth and rainwater. It was surprisingly peaceful, sitting there with the other girls, all of them working together to create their own instruments of sacrifice.
They had worked quietly, each of them absorbed in their own thoughts, and Bonnie made sure that her own noose was particularly tight. She didn’t want any slip-ups when the time came. It was a strange sort of serenity that had settled over her, a peace she hadn’t felt in years. It was like all the bullshit of the outside world had just melted away, leaving only the purity of this moment, the anticipation of the experience that lay ahead.
Now, as she whiled away the hours of the last night of her life, Bonnie smiled at the memory. The noose was still there, carefully coiled up next to where she was lying. It was a constant reminder of what was to come, and it made her stomach flutter with excitement. She picked it up and began to run it through her fingers, feeling the roughness of the vines against her skin. It was surprisingly comforting, like a warm embrace from a fuck-buddy she hadn’t seen in a long time.
The door to the hut creaked open, and the sound of footsteps alerted her to the presence of someone approaching. She assumed it was one of the other girls needing to use the communal area, but when she looked up she saw a young Aiwaha warrior standing there, his muscular body silhouetted against the flickering light of the cooking fires outside. He was naked except for a loincloth, and his cock was already erect, pointing at her like an arrow.
Bonnie was in no mood to turn him away. It’d be a great way to pass the time and get herself even more worked up for tomorrow. “You want some of this?” she asked, her voice thick with desire as she spread her legs. The warrior nodded eagerly and approached her, his eyes gleaming in the dim light. He was young, probably not much older than she was, and that was all for the better because it meant he’d have some stamina. He knelt down between her thighs and began to kiss her, his lips gentle and warm against hers. Bonnie moaned. Usually, she wasn’t one for all the touchy-feely shit, but this time she’d let it slide. She wrapped her arms around him and eagerly returned the kiss, sliding her tongue into his mouth.
He pushed his loincloth aside and shoved his dick into her. There was no need for foreplay and neither of them had the patience for it. Bonnie took him in eagerly and began moving in time with him as he began to fuck her hard and fast, his hips pumping until each thrust made her spine arch off the floor. Bonnie didn’t bother to hide her pleasure or muffle her moans of delight. She didn’t care if she woke the others; she was going to get the most out of this last night of her life.
The guy clutched her throat gently, not too hard, but just enough to remind her of the fate that awaited her. His kisses grew more urgent as he fucked her, his teeth grazing her lower lip in a way that made her shiver as he fucked her like a stallion in heat. She gloried in the sensations. She felt so alive, so full of life and passion. All that mattered was the feeling of this man inside her, his cock driving into her like a piston, his body heat mixing with hers.
Bonnie’s vision blurred as she felt him tense up and come inside her. She watched his face contort with pleasure, his eyes rolling back in his head as he gave a final, guttural grunt. She felt his warm cum filling her, that indescribable and oh-so-familiar heat gushing into her nubile body as her pussy walls clenched and squeezed. She had never felt more alive than she did right now, so close to the hour of her death. It was like every nerve ending was on fire, every sensation magnified a thousand-fold.
She screeched like a harpy as she came. Bonnie’s orgasm hit her like a truck, making her body spasm uncontrollably. The young warrior didn’t stop moving until she had come down from her high, panting and smiling. He withdrew his cock with a wet sound and leaned back, watching her with a satisfied expression on his face. She could feel his semen trickling down her inner thighs.
“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice hoarse from screaming. He nodded and kissed her again before standing up and disappearing into the night. Bonnie lay there, her chest heaving, as the other girls–woken up by her cries–watched her with grinning faces.
Cholchi giggled. <“He certainly liked you,“> she said, her voice thick with sleep. <“You will be a good offering to the gods, I think.”>
<“An excellent one,“> Palenque concurred. <“Your spirit is strong, and your body will be a fine gift.“>
Jaziri agreed. <“Your lust is more than a match for even the most hot-blooded man. I am impressed.“>
Bonnie gave them all a thumbs-up. She couldn’t understand the words but the tone made their meaning clear. “Right back at ya, bitches,” she quipped, making them laugh again.
She wasn’t the only one to have a visitor that night, nor was that the last of the males who came to fuck her. Bonnie and the girls cavorted with one partner after another until just before dawn. In fact, she was still riding a guy in reverse cowgirl and giving handjobs to two more when Kura came into the hut, flanked by at least a dozen armed warriors. The expression on the old woman’s face was grave.
<“It is time,”> she intoned. <“The Festival of Fertility begins at dawn tomorrow. Come, girls, and follow me. You must be purified and made ready in body and spirit, and attend the great feast, before going to meet your fate at the sacred tree.”>
The four of them looked at each other. Then, as one, they rose to their feet. Bonnie gave her fuckbuddies an apologetic smile as she hurried out the back of the hut. Together, she and the other fourteen girls followed Kura to the edge of Tlacloban and into the jungle. The old woman seemed to know the route to wherever they were going by heart, and Bonnie took great care not to trip over any roots or branches in the dark. She had no idea where she was going, but she knew it had to be somewhere important. The males who’d accompanied Kura kept a careful watch for any dangerous predators that might try to hurt the girls as they walked in single file down the jungle path.
After more than an hour of walking, Kura led them to a small clearing dominated by a deep pool of clear water fed by a waterfall that tumbled over rocky cliffs high above their heads. She gestured at it and said, <“In accordance with our ancient rites, you must clean yourselves with care. The water from the sacred falls will ensure that you are pure before you offer yourselves to the gods. You will all bathe and when you emerge, you will be taken back to the hut for the next step. And as the water cleanses you, let your minds also be cleansed of all fear and doubt. Embrace the joy that awaits you.”>
Bonnie took a deep breath, feeling the warm damp air of the jungle caress her skin. The light of the rising sun shimmered off the water, turning both it and the falls to the color of molten gold. It was eerily beautiful, and she couldn’t help but feel a sense of reverence. She’d always enjoyed a good soak, especially in the outdoors, so she had no problem following Kura’s instructions. She and the other girls all walked over to the pool and began to wade into it. It was deep and cool but not ice-cold. It felt really good after their exertions of the night before.
“Oh, fuck,” she groaned as her muscles relaxed. “Yeah, that’s the stuff. That’s what I’m talking about.”
The other girls wholeheartedly agreed. Ohtli splashed her twin sister, making Atlatl squeal and splash her back. She missed, however, and wound up hitting Ancaona and Amoxtli instead, who took it in good stride, laughing and retaliating with splashes of their own.
That did it. In the space of a second, the bathing had turned into a water fight, with Bonnie and all the others laughing and squealing as they competed to see who could soak the others the most. They played like this for what felt like hours, the water flying in every direction, mixing with the light of the dawn to create a kaleidoscope of droplets that sparkled in the air like diamonds.
Kura made no attempt to tell them to hurry. Given what lay in store for them, she was happy to allow the girls their moment of innocent play. They giggled and shrieked and frolicked like water nymphs in a Renaissance painting, and all the while the men stood careful guard to ensure nothing harmed them. Bonnie floated on her back with her legs and arms spread out, watching the light dance on the leaves of the canopy far above. It was so peaceful here. For a moment she felt almost sad that she would never see this place again. But she pushed the feeling aside. This was no time for regrets and she wouldn’t let herself get bogged down by them.
Finally, though, Kura had to call a halt to the merriment when the sun was high enough in the sky. She cleared her throat and clapped her hands sharply. <“Come, girls. Your purification is complete. You must now return to the hut where I will guide you through the next step in the ritual preparations.”>
The girls groaned a little but obeyed. Bonnie climbed out of the pool, her body glistening with water droplets that caught the sun’s light and made her skin sparkle. They walked in single file back to the hut in a comfortable silence. Each of them was lost in their own thoughts but all were in high spirits. Bonnie was practically skipping the whole way there.
When they got back to the hut and were securely ensconced within, Kura said, <“Your bodies must now be adorned with the colors most pleasing to the gods: gold, for the sun the gods have sent us; blue, for the sky that embraces us; red, for the blood of life that flows through our veins, and black, both for the soil your bodies will nourish and in recognition of the honorable death which you will soon embrace.”>
Bonnie arched an eyebrow. Harwood had said her body would be painted only two colors, gold and black. She giggled. I guess the prof doesn’t know everything after all.
Kura clapped again, just once, and a score of young girls entered the hut bearing hollow gourds filled with ritual paint. <“These girls will apply the sacred colors to your bodies. Stand now, with your arms and legs spread apart, and allow them to complete this vital task. They have been chosen to do this for their purity of heart and their piety for the gods. It is an honor for them to do this and contribute to the Festival in this way. Do not flinch or resist, for to do so would bring dishonor not just to yourself but to your ancestors and the gods themselves.”>
“Wouldn’t dream of it!” Bonnie chirped. She knew the drill. This wasn’t her first rodeo with body painting. She’d done it back on her college campus for a couple of art majors who needed a live model and had even once painted herself for a Halloween party as a slutty butterfly. This, though, was different. It was serious. This wasn’t just for fun or to get a good grade; this was for something much more significant.
The young Aiwaha girls approached her reverently as if she were a goddess and they were her supplicants. She spread her arms and legs as instructed and watched as they dipped their hands in the paint and began slathering it on with meticulous care. They stared with her feet and ankles first, working their way up her calves and thighs. It was surprisingly ticklish, and she had to bite her lip to keep from laughing.
She wasn’t sure what, exactly, the paint was made of, but it had a very thick consistency, almost like peanut butter. It took a lot of effort to apply it evenly in a way that wouldn’t smear and even more effort was put into applying all the colors equally in swirls and spiral patterns that seamlessly blended into each other. The girls painted her body like they were crafting a masterpiece. They took time to ensure every inch of her skin was coated in the vibrant hues, biting their lips with effort, their brows furrowed with concentration. Sweat beaded on their foreheads and they murmured softly to each other. They worked like a well-drilled team. Bonnie wondered just how long they’d been preparing for this. Quite a while, most likely.
Their touch was feather-light and surprisingly gentle, despite the gravity of the occasion. Bonnie felt a strange sense of peace wash over her as they worked, their soft whispers and the rhythmic strokes of their hands lulling her into a trancelike state. By the time they had finished painting her, she looked like a living tapestry of the jungle’s rich colors. The sensation was oddly liberating as if she was shedding her old self with every stroke of paint.
It took hours for the painter-girls to finish their important task. By the time they finally stepped away from Bonnie and the other volunteers, it was mid-morning and her stomach was growling. She wasn’t the only one, either.
But not right away. Kura gestured for them to approach and inspected all fifteen of them, each and every one. She looked every inch of their bodies over with a critical eye, searching for even the slightest hint of imperfection in the way the paint was applied. Bonnie had to resist the urge to squirm under the old woman’s scrutiny.
Finally, the storyteller’s face broke into an approving smile. <“Very good,”> she said, her voice low and solemn as she gave the painter-girls an approving nod. <“You have performed your duty well.”>
The painter-girls visibly relaxed and smiled, murmuring their thanks. Kura turned to Bonnie and the others. <“Now you are ready for the Feast of the Flesh. This, too, is an important and vital phase of our Festival of Fertility. The gods want you to depart this world with joy in your hearts, so now is the time to eat, to drink, to fill your belly with good things. Come now. The rest of the tribe awaits us.”>
“Fuck yeah,” said Bonnie.
Outside, Professor Harwood sat with Lin Ming, Isaiah, their respective lovers, and the rest of her students as all of Tlacloban waited with bated breath for Bonnie and the other sacrificial girls to emerge from the hut. They had all, in accordance with Aiwaha custom, refrained from eating or drinking since dawn, but the time had come to end the fast. The villagers had been cooking since early morning to prepare the ceremonial feast, and what a feast it would be! All the food that had been gathered since Naka- Mur announced the names of the sacrificial girls was made ready in a frenzy of activity. Stews and soups bubbled and spat over open flames. Meat of every imaginable kind hissed and spat as it was cooked to perfection, hissing and sizzling as it roasted to perfection. There were platters of steaming tubers and fruits of every color of the rainbow. And there was enough caium and other fermented beverages to sink the entire village.
The anticipation, the eagerness, was so great that it almost felt like a living thing. Silence reigned, no one speaking, most hardly daring to breathe as they watched the hut from which the girls would soon emerge. Even the usually stoic Professor Harwood looked tense, her eyes flicking to the hut every few seconds. Zolin held Lin’s hand tightly and Metztli put an arm around Isaiah in a gesture of silent support.
“Am happy,” she murmured. “Happy share Festival with you, Rabbit.” Her eyes shone with adoration. “Never thought I be happy like this. Ever.”
Isaiah nodded solemnly, his heart swelling with affection for the fierce and beautiful young woman beside him. “I’m happy too,” he said.
Then Kura began to lead the girls out of the hut and Tlacloban erupted in a long, rolling, roar of approval. They were each a vision of nubile beauty, painted from head to toe and adorned with jewelry made from animal bones. Brilliantly colored feathers from a dozen different exotic birds were braided into their hair and adorned the elaborate headdresses they wore on their heads, and they wore necklaces, armlets, anklets, and bracelets of white and brown beads. The white beads were made from the seeds of the Jarinha palm and the brown beads were made from tree resin. Adornments made of precious or semi-precious stones like amethyst, labradorite, rose quartz and moonstone were also much in evidence, as were ivory hooped earrings made of animal bone.
Flowers too were used as lavish decor. Tropical blooms of bright, riotous colors had been carefully set in the girls’ hair or strung into delicate loops that were placed around their necks, hands, and ankles. More soberingly, each girl also wore the noose from which she would be hung around her slender neck. All fifteen of them were smiling happily, and none had a bigger smile than Bonnie herself. She seemed to radiate excitement and joy, as though she were about to go on the last and most thrilling rollercoaster of her life.
Lin Ming felt her heart race as the girls paraded out of the hut like models walking onto the runway at a fashion show while the villagers threw flowers and seeds at them. She knew that each step brought them closer to a fate she could not fully comprehend, yet she couldn’t tear her eyes away. Bonnie’s smile was infectious, and she looked more alive than she ever had before. She turned to Zolin, her hand in his, and whispered, “They’re so beautiful.”
“Yes,” he said. “But not more than you. No woman prettier than you, Tiny One.” He pulled her closer and she made no attempt to resist. “You come from faraway place, but you have heart of Aiwaha. You be mother to our children.”
Lin reddened and her hand went to her stomach. “Y-yes,” she whispered. “I…I would like that. I hope it, um, happens soon.”
Zolin leaned in and kissed her deeply, his hand sliding down to caress her belly. “It will,” he assured her. “I feel it. Soon our hut fill with sons and daughters. We have many children.”
He looked like he was going to say more, but Naka-Mur and Kura held their hands up for quiet. The riotous applause of the villagers died down and the High Chieftain said, <“My people! Today we honor the gods with the Festival of Fertility, and give thanks for all they have given us! Let us enjoy the bounty of our land, let us eat and drink and make our hearts and souls merry! Then, at sunset, we will journey to the sacred tree.“> He took a huge piece of cooked meat and ripped a great chunk out of it. <“Well, go on! There is plenty for all!“>
The Aiwaha cheered and the feast began in earnest. Zolin handed Lin a plate–or rather, a very large, very firm leaf from some exotic plant that functioned as a plate–stacked high with roasted meats, vegetables, and fruits. She took it gratefully, as did Isaiah when Metztli handed him one too. She gave his cock a playful stroke with the palm of her hand. “Hope you hungry for more than food,” she said. “For when fuck later, during sacrifice.”
Isaiah knew she was referring to the orgy that would take place around the tree as Bonnie and the others were hung. He felt his cock stir at the thought. “Er…yeah. I’m looking forward to it,” he said.
She cocked her head. “You promise?”
“Yes,” he assured her. He looked into her dark eyes. “I promise. You’re…you’re the most beautiful girl ever, Metz. I can’t get enough of you.”
Now it was her turn to redden. “Stop make me feel all weird,” she mumbled, averting her eyes. “Stupid Rabbit.”
Isaiah laughed and took a bite of his food. “It’s true, though. You’re gorgeous. Don’t feel embarrassed.” The fact that he could make a woman like her feel shy about anything was only further evidence of how deep their connection went. No one else could make the fierce, beautiful huntress blush like an awkward teenager with her first crush.
Aisha looked around at the feast, her eyes wide with amazement. She had never seen so much food in one place. Her stomach growled, and Jeremy chuckled, slapping her ass playfully. “Eat up,” he said. “You’re going to need your strength tonight. I’m gonna fuck you until your brain turns to mush.”
“I expect nothing less,” Aisha purred.
Gabby took a bite of roast caiman, prepared with herbs and chili peppers. Her eyes widened. “Holy shit, this is delicious!”
“Isn’t it?” Harwood agreed with a knowing smile. “It’s a delicacy.”
“It better be,” Richard snarked. “Since I was almost bitten by one when we were hunting them. Damn thing nearly took my fucking leg off.”
“Me too,” said Brian.
“And me,” said Jeremy.
“And me,” Isaiah added. “Twice.”
Metztli gave him a mock scowl. “When you stop whining about that? So what? It missed.”
Isaiah elbowed her playfully. “When you stop calling me Rabbit.”
“Never,” the huntress declared. “You always Rabbit to me. Forever and ever.”
The group laughed, the tension easing. They dug into the food with gusto, the smells and flavors of the exotic dishes making their mouths water. The caium flowed freely, and soon everyone’s cheeks were flushed and their laughter grew louder. Zolin felt his heart swell with pride as he watched his tribe share their bounty with these curious outsiders. No one outside the Aiwaha had ever been allowed to witness the Festival of Fertility and he knew his woman and her outlander friends all understood what an honor it was.
The knowledge of her imminent death didn’t seem to impact Bonnie’s appetite at all. She ate and drank with gusto, as did all the other girls who’d been chosen for the sacrifice. They laughed and joked with each other and she gave Harwood and her friends a cheerful wave. The blonde slut looked absolutely radiant in her feathers and body paint. The Aiwaha’s acceptance of the cycle of life and death was palpable in their demeanor, in the way they laughed and joked with each other as they joined the feast.
Cualli took a large gourd of caium and chugged it down, her slender neck bobbing as she swallowed the potent concoction. When she was finished, she slammed the gourd down and her cheeks flushed with the effects of it. <“That’s the stuff!“> she exclaimed. <“Cholchi, have some. You haven’t even sipped yours yet!“>
Cholchi looked a little embarrassed but took a hearty swig. Her alcohol tolerance must have been less than Cualli’s because she began to sway a little where she sat, blinking owlishly. Amoxtli giggled and Ancaona took her hand, steadying her. <“Be easy on her, Cualli. Not everyone is filled with as much fire as you.“>
Cualli poked her tongue out at her. <“I just want everyone to have a good time!“> she protested. <“And if that means getting a little tipsy, then so be it! It’s not as if we will have another opportunity.“>
Palenque agreed. <“I for one intend to make the most of today,” she said, her voice a bit slurred from the drink. <“Cualli is right, we should all celebrate life while we still can!“>
Bonnie drained her gourd and eagerly accepted a refill, then tore into her food. This was her last meal and she was damned well going to savor every bite. That was not a difficult task–every dish she tasted was more delicious than the last.
A growing chorus of delighted gasps and cries of astonishment made her look up. Bonnie saw half a dozen young Aiwaha men carrying a whole roast boar of massive size and placing it in the center of the feasting area. The villagers clapped and cheered wildly and she joined in with gusto. She didn’t even know boars could get that big. It must have taken a lot of hunters working together to take down something that size, she thought. Really fucking dangerous work, especially when you don’t have guns.
The men carved the beast with practiced ease and began handing out thick, juicy portions that still dripped and sizzled from the cooking fires. Every portion was the size of a full-sized steak. Most of the villagers took only one or two pieces. Naka-Mur, she noticed with amusement, took five. The big guy has a big appetite.
She raised her voice to be heard over the revelry and winked at the professor and the others. “See you all at the tree!” she called out, raising her gourd in a toast.
Harwood raised her own gourd in return. Metztli, meanwhile, had eaten her fill and was sating her other appetites by kissing Isaiah passionately, squirming in his lap to tease and tantalize him. She was so in love with this shy, cute foreigner who was now the father of her fifth and youngest child. Even in her wildest dreams, Metztli had never imagined she would feel for anyone the way she felt for him. She put his hand over her heart and bared her teeth in a ferocious grin. “Yours,” she said, as he felt the beat of her life against his palm. “Forever. For all time. Heart of Metztli is only for you. No other.”
Isaiah felt his own heart lurch at the sincerity in her voice. “And mine is yours,” he said. “Always.”
Tears fell from her cheeks and for once she wasn’t ashamed for him to see them. Metztli gripped his shoulders hard enough to make him wince. “You not leave,” she said raggedly. “Please. Not ever. You promise?”
“I promise,” Isaiah assured her, stroking her hair. “I’ll stay with you for life. I’m not going anywhere.”
That seemed to mollify her. Metztli wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “Good,” she rasped. “Is good. Needed hear that. Just one more time.”
Isaiah didn’t blame her for needing such reassurance. He supposed, that if he were in her position, he’d want the same thing. He took a deep breath and kissed her, his cock stirring with anticipation for the night to come. “I love you, Metz.”
“Metz?” She wrinkled her nose. “Why you get my name wrong?”
Isaiah chuckled. “Sorry, it was just a nickname.” At her confused look, he explained. “A nickname is a shortened, usually affectionate form of someone’s name. It’s a way of showing love or friendship.”
“Oh. Is fine then. You call me Metz.” She narrowed her eyes. “Anyone else calls me Metz, I make them sorry.”
“I believe you,” he chuckled.
Metztli fed him a piece of fresh pineapple. She popped it into his mouth as though he were a puppy. “You eat,” she said firmly. “You need strength. For me. I eat too. Baby needs much food.” Her hand strayed to her belly. “You watch. I give healthy baby, strong son. He grow big and strong.”
Isaiah took a bite and nodded, his eyes never leaving hers. “I know you will,” he said. “I’m not worried about that at all.”
Richard chuckled. “You’re going to need your energy, she’s right about that,” he said to Isaiah. “Bet you didn’t sign up for this when you picked this elective. Or Brian, for that matter.”
Brian, who was sitting with Haxti’s head in his lap, nodded. “Definitely not. I’m gonna hate leaving, honestly.”
“Then why not stay?” Krupa asked. “Isaiah and Lin are.”
Brian hesitated. “I just…I don’t think it’s for me, and Haxti hasn’t said much about it so I don’t think it’s something she’s thought about much either. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had a blast, but…I don’t think I can give up everything back home for this.”
“Same,” Aisha admitted. She smiled at Jeremy. “Though when our kid’s big enough I totally wanna come back.”
Her husband smirked. “Abso-fucking-lutely, babe. What about you, Gabby? You planning on coming back here someday?”
Gabby looked thoughtful as she chewed on a piece of roast boar. “Sure, if I’m able to afford it.”
Professor Harwood took a bite of pineapple. “I’m already planning to come back,” she said. “My son, when he is a little older, should get in touch with his heritage. After all, he’s half-Aiwaha. I want him to know where he came from.”
“I wonder if you’ll ever figure out who his father is,” Aisha teased.
“Ah, but the mystery, I think, is half of the fun,” chortled Harwood. “Besides, at the end of the day, it really doesn’t matter. The important thing is that he’s loved and cared for.”
Krupa’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “What about you, Lin?” she asked, watching the petite Asian girl blush. “Do you think you’ll be back here? Maybe with a little one of your own?”
Lin hesitated. She hadn’t planned on telling everyone until after the Festival, but she supposed this was a good way to broach the subject. She took a deep breath, mustered her courage, and said. “I…am not leaving.”
That got stunned expressions from just about everyone. Even Harwood seemed surprised.
“I am not leaving,” Lin repeated. “I…I love Zolin. He makes me feel loved. He treats me better than my own family back home. I can’t leave him. I won’t leave him. No one has ever made me feel the way he does.”
Professor Harwood looked at her with a gentle smile. “That’s a very big decision, Lin. Are you sure about this?”
“Yes,” said Lin, softly but firmly. “More sure than I’ve ever been about…about anything. I want to be with him forever.”
The group sat in stunned silence for a moment before the congratulations began to flow in. Aisha was the first to speak, a broad smile lighting up her face. “That’s wonderful, Lin!” she exclaimed, reaching over to give her friend a warm embrace. “You go, girl. Honestly, I’m not surprised. You and Zolin go so well together I can’t picture you apart!”
“I concur,” agreed Richard. “If you have found happiness, do not let it go. It would be foolish.”
Harwood took another sip of her caium and gave Lin a warm smile. “It’s certainly a bold choice, but if you’re truly happy, then that’s all that matters. Love can lead us to amazing places, even if they’re unexpected. Lin Ming, I want you to know that I am proud of you. You have come a long, long way since you entered my classroom for the first time.”
“R-really?” Lin asked.
The professor nodded. “Really. You’ve faced your fears, opened your mind, and grown so much. If this is the path that makes you happy, then you have my full support.”
Lin squirmed a little, embarrassed and yet warmed by her praise. “Thank you, professor,” she said. “And…I’ll never forget you. You’ve been like a second mother to me.”
The words came out before she could stop them, and she blushed harder, but she meant every syllable. Professor Harwood had been nothing but kind and understanding, and Lin knew the woman had changed her life in more ways than she could count.
The professor reached over and took Lin’s hand. “That means more to me than you will ever know,” she said. “Thank you.”
The group’s chatter grew louder as the drinks flowed, but Lin’s mind was elsewhere. She watched the villagers dance and laugh, feeling a strange kinship with them. Despite their primitive lifestyle, they were happy and content. And she was about to become a part of that, forever. It was a sobering thought, but strangely, it didn’t frighten her.
Isaiah, who’d been preoccupied with Metztli who was kissing him hard, broke the embrace and said, “Well, as long as we’re dropping bombshells, I guess I’ll drop mine too. I’m also going to stay, guys.” He cupped one of Metztli’s breasts, a casual, sensual gesture that made her grin. “I mean, with Metztli pregnant and everything, I can’t just up and leave. And even if she wasn’t pregnant, I still wouldn’t want to.” He rolled one of her dark tits between his thumb and forefinger. “She…makes me want to be better. To get stronger. She challenges me and drives me crazy in the best way.”
“But what about your scholarship?” Aisha asked, her voice filled with genuine concern. “And your parents? Surely they’re not like Lin’s.”
“Of course not,” Isaiah said. “And…I don’t want them to be sad or worry. But I can’t go anywhere without Metz, Aisha. I’ll…write a letter to them or something, explaining everything. Hopefully they’ll accept it.”
“And if they don’t?” pressed Gabby.
“Then that’s their problem,” said Isaiah. “I love Metztli. I’m not leaving her. Period.”
“Wow,” said Jeremy, looking at him with something approaching respect. “That’s pretty bold. Never knew you had it in you. Thought you were just a nerd, like Richard.”
“Fuck you,” Richard replied.
Metztli kissed Isaiah, making a show of letting everyone see their tongues dance together. “I not leave Rabbit either,” she declared. “Not ever. We together in mind and body and spirit. Our hearts now one.”
Her words were met with a mix of amazement and amusement. Harwood leaned in, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Well, if you two are going to be setting up house with the Aiwaha, I expect plenty of juicy details when I come back to visit.”
Isaiah smirked. “Deal.”
The feast grew rowdier as the afternoon turned into evening. The caium flowed like a river, the fires burned high and hot, and the Aiwaha danced and laughed and sang with a wild, unbridled passion that seemed to infect everyone. The sounds of laughter and music filled the air, melding with the cries of distant animals and the whispers of the leaves in the trees. The tribe and their guests feasted to their heart’s content, and no one was more in the spirit than Bonnie. She partied like it was going out of style, and as her excitement and level of intoxication grew, she began letting the Aiwaha men fuck her. So did many of the other sacrificial girls, as they knew it was their last opportunity to indulge in the pleasures of the flesh before they were led to the sacred tree to die.
Bonnie rode one cock after another in reverse cowgirl, her pussy stuffed with dick as she stuffed her stomach with food. Soon, she’d taken so many loads of jizz inside her that it seeped out onto the ground around her in thick trickles, but she didn’t give a fuck. She was going to be dead tomorrow anyway. What was a little mess? The men took turns with her, and she took turns with the food and drink, downing mouthfuls of roast boar and chugging caium as though it were water, laughing wildly and howling her pleasure to the waxing moon.
The party continued well after nightfall, and it was at some point after sunset that Metztli made a suggestion. “You no have tattoos, Rabbit,” she pointed out. “All Aiwaha, need markings. They tell our stories. They show who we are. Want Metztli give you some?”
Isaiah looked at her, a little tipsy from the caium. “W-will it hurt?”
Metztli nodded, her expression serious. “Yes. Very much. But worth it. Like birth pains when I bring you son into the tribe. Please?”
Isaiah knew he couldn’t refuse. If he was going to be living with the Aiwaha, that meant doing as the Romans did. And tattoos played an important role in Metztli’s culture. He nodded, a little hesitantly, and she beamed.
Zolin nodded at Lin Ming. “You need markings too, Tiny One. I give them to you. You wait here. I go get tools. Okay?”
He didn’t wait for her to reply before getting to his feet. When he returned a few minutes later, he was carrying the tools the Aiwaha used for such things: two needles made of the long thorns of the tucum palm and two small gourds of Jagua fruit juice for ink. The needles were made of two long thorns each, wound together with homespun thread. Isaiah swallowed when he saw how sharp they were and Lin paled visibly.
Zolin sat cross-legged beside her and took her hand in his, pressing it gently against his bare chest. “Look, Tiny One,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “You become Aiwaha. You carry my seed. You need marks of our love.”
“Yes,” Metztli concurred. “Rabbit needs them too. Turn round, Rabbit.” She took a needle and dipped it into the gourd. “Turn round, we start with you back, go from there. I give you good markings, ones that fit you.”
Isaiah took a deep breath and turned, his heart racing. He felt a gentle hand touch his back, and then a sharp, stinging pain as the needle pierced his skin. It was like getting a shot but worse, and he stiffened involuntarily and sucked in a breath through his teeth.
Metztli kissed the back of his head. “Shhh,” she murmured. “It okay. It okay, Rabbit. Trust me. You trust me, yes?”
Isaiah nodded. “I trust you,” he managed, his voice tight with pain. He felt the needle begin to move, tracing a pattern of fire along his upper back and spine. Blood welled with each prick of the needle and began to dribble down his back in tiny rivulets.
Zolin, meanwhile, took Lin’s slender arm and grasped it with his large hand. “I start here,” he said, pointing at her forearm.
Lin began shaking like a leaf. She could see from Isaiah’s expression that he was in considerable pain and she had no idea if she could handle it. “Z-Zolin,” she whispered. “I’m scared…”
The warrior looked at her, his eyes filled with love and concern. “I know, Tiny One,” he said, stroking her cheek. “But you strong. Stronger than you know. You endure. I know this. Believe in you, Tiny One. You be strong for me now? You be brave? You can do it.”
Lin took a deep breath and nodded. “Yes, Zolin,” she managed at last. “For you, I will be strong.”
He nodded and took her arm, holding it out and dipping his needle in ink. Zolin chose her forearm as the starting point, and the needle pierced her with ease.
Lin bit down on a scream, but only just. The needle danced over her skin, and soon dots and tiny trickles of blood stood out starkly against her pale complexion. She watched as Zolin’s strong, sure hands worked the needle in intricate patterns, creating something she knew would be beautiful. She clung to that and did her best to focus on him rather than the needle–on him, her love for him, the wonderful things he made her feel. Lin and Isaiah both bore the ministrations of their Aiwaha mates as stoically as they could, though Isaiah had it worse. The tattoos Metztli was giving him were larger and far more complicated, and that meant they took longer and thus, hurt more. Zolin finished Lin’s tattoos before Metztli was even halfway done, and he gave Lin caium and an herbal salve to help the new markings heal.
Lin looked down at herself. The tattoos were mostly on her chest and arms. The ones on her left arm were a sleeve tattoo that ran down to her elbow, the other started at her shoulder and went across her chest, between her breasts, and down to her navel. They were intricate patterns of vines and animals, mostly small, cute creatures like hedgehogs and sloths. The pain was intense, but it was already beginning to fade.
Not so with Isaiah. Almost two hours after Zolin finished giving Lin her tattoos, he was still doing his best to keep it together while Metztli worked. “F-fuck,” he managed weakly. “Metz…I don’t know how much longer I can take this…”
“Almost done, Rabbit,” she said, her own voice tight with the effort of focusing on such delicate work. “Almost done. You doing so good. Just need hold on little longer. Not much longer now. Okay?” She took his face in one hand and turned it to one side. “I do your cheek now. Hold still.”
Isaiah nodded and took a deep breath, his eyes squeezed shut as Metztli leaned in. He felt the needle pierce the skin of his cheek, and he jolted a little. The pain was the worst so far and tears beaded in his eyes.
Metztli didn’t rush the work, though she hated how much discomfort it caused him. She was diligent and thorough. The designs she chose for him were a mix of Aiwaha symbols for protection and wisdom, interwoven with images of the jungle that had become their shared home. Each prick of the needle was a declaration of her love and commitment. But the most important piece of the tapestry she made of his skin was the last one, the one she saved for the very end: tribalized design on his chest that was unmistakably the head and ears of a stylized rabbit.
Isaiah nearly collapsed with relief when she finally put the needle aside, but his moan of pain was muffled by the kiss she gave him. “You do so well,” she said. “I proud of you. You were strong. Not weak. Strong.”
“Thanks,” he said weakly, and accepted a drink from her, which he drank to the dregs. The alcoholic beverage helped make the pain fade faster. He was about to say something else, but then he looked down and saw the rabbit on his chest.
He gave her a mock glare as everyone else in the group erupted into gales of laughter. “Aw, come on, Metz. Seriously?”
Metztli giggled and kissed him again, her hand resting on her still-flat stomach. “Yes. Is not insult, Rabbit. Is symbol of like how rabbit hops through jungle, fast and clever. That is what you are to me. Not weak rabbit. Not no more.”
“…Oh.” He blushed at her praise. “Well, in that case, I guess that’s okay.”
“You like?” Metztli pressed. “You like all markings I give you?”
He smiled. “No, Metz. I love them.”
“I…I like mine, too,” Lin admitted. “Thank you, Zolin. They…they look great.”
Zolin beamed and pulled her close for a kiss.
The party continued for hours after Lin and Isaiah got their official markings that marked them as full-fledged members of the tribe. Lin was sure it was late, very late, when Naka-Mur and Kura finally rose from their seats. The revelry was so loud that the storyteller had to use a hollowed-out horn taken from some animal as a loudspeaker in order to be heard.
<“Brothers! Sisters! My people! The time has at last come! Now that our bellies are filled with good things and our hearts are swollen to bursting with joyful happiness, the moment has at last arrived. Let us go now, as one people, into the jungle where the sacred tree awaits! Let us show the gods our fealty and make the offerings they have asked of us! Let us do so with gladness and gratitude, and in so doing, let us sate every desire, indulge every sensation, and deny ourselves no craving! Come! Come with me!“> He turned to Bonnie and the other volunteers. <“Are you ready to fulfill your oaths?“>
The response from the girls was a cheer that was almost drowned out by the deafening clamor of approval from the rest of the tribe. Kura signaled to two nearby tribesmen, who brought forth a huge drinking vessel made of carved, ancient wood–wood from the sacred tree itself, taken from one of its aged branches. Within was the special elixir the Aiwaha used to try and minimize the pain the girls felt as they slowly strangled, and at Kura’s direction, the girls began to drink from it. They passed it down, one by one, until it reached Bonnie. She took a hearty gulp and immediately felt a pleasant warm sensation spreading throughout her body. She gave the vessel back to Kura, who handed it back to her assistants to take away. Then Bonnie and the others were linked together by the neck with a long, strong rope made of course hemp, and their hands were bound behind their back so they could be led to the place of their sacrifice. None of them seemed bothered by it at all. Their smiles never wavered. Bonnie actually thought it was kinky.
The Aiwaha tossed food and drink aside and rose–many unsteadily–to their feet. Torches were lit and passed around to light the way, and Kura, who alone of the tribe had not touched any caium that night, began to lead the grand procession into the jungle. Ceremonial drums, used only for the Festival, began to beat in the gathering twilight until the air thrummed and vibrated with the frenzied reverberations. Other Aiwaha played on wooden flutes, shook rattles made of seeds, or blew on ocarinas carved of stone or on horns taken from dead animals until their cheeks ballooned like a frog’s. Many more danced and sang and chanted as they walked, and Harwood joined in too. So did her students, when they got the hang of the words. Metztli and Zolin coached their respective partners on them so they could join in.
It was a long, arduous hike, the jungle thick and difficult to penetrate. Even with Harwood lending her machete to the men walking in front, it was slow going. The ground was wet and slippery with mud and animal dung, and more than once someone stumbled. Yet for all that, spirits remained high. The path was well-trod, almost carved into the ground by generations of Aiwaha who’d made this same journey. Lin knew they were all walking in the footsteps of all those who’d come before them and shivered a little at the thought.
Metztli was fully in thrall to the atmosphere of the ceremony. She danced with each step she took with all the erotic, sensuous grace of an experienced stripper, her body moving sinuously and suggestively, her breasts jiggling hypnotically. She arched her back in a way that drew attention to her hips and bust, ran her hands over her newly-pregnant belly, swiveled and swirled in a way that displayed her toned, athletic ass. Isaiah watched her in awe, and when she caught his eye, she smirked. She knew exactly what she was doing and she knew more than one of the males in Tlacloban was watching her hungrily, but no one but Rabbit was allowed to touch her from now on. Her body was reserved only for him, which was new for her. Monogamy was not something that came easily to Metztli’s people, but she was willing to do it for him.
She took his hand and began to dance with him, encouraging him to let go of his inhibitions. To the surprise of them both, he did. He began to move his body to the rhythm of the drums and the flutes, his feet stomping and sliding through the mud as he got swept up in the excitement.
“Am I pretty, Rabbit?” Metztli asked with a breathless laugh, for she already knew the answer.
“You’re the most beautiful woman in the world,” Isaiah said, his voice thick with lust and awe. “And I’m the luckiest man in the world to be with you.”
Metztli felt her heart turn over and pulled him close, wrapping her arms around him as they danced together, still keeping pace with the rest of the tribe around them as they headed for the sacred tree. Her eyes glittered in the light of the torches like polished obsidian.
Neither Isaiah nor anyone else in Harwood’s little group knew exactly how long took to reach the spot where the ancient sacrificial tree stood, but it was not a brief walk through the jungle. It took time, and in that time, the excitement grew. The drumming grew louder, the music more frenzied, the dancing more passionate until many of the Aiwaha seemed like whirling dervishes–
–And then, with jarring, total suddenness, they stopped. Everything stopped. The music stopped. The dancing stopped. Everything and everyone ground to a silent, complete, unnerving stop.
They stopped because, all of a sudden, they’d left the jungle and entered a large clearing deep in the heart of the rainforest, a clearing open to the sky where the stars could be seen glittering overhead. Whether the clearing was naturally occurring or whether it had been carved from the jungle by human hands was hard to tell, but in its center, surrounded by more torches, stood the sacred tree.
It was a tree like none Lin had ever seen. It was a true forest giant, a colossus that stretched upwards like a natural skyscraper, with a trunk so wide it looked bigger than Lin’s childhood home back in her home country. It was also clearly ancient beyond measure, with gnarled, twisted branches that drooped low like a weeping willow’s, while its canopy was a sprawling labyrinth of huge green leaves. The bark was a deep, rich brown that looked almost black in the flickering torchlight, scarred with countless years of storms and growth which spoke of all the lives lived and lost in its shadow. Vines and mosses and orchids and flowers of every description and color covered the tree’s lower trunk, turning it into a veritable living sculpture, and the air around it was alive with the scents of nectar and damp earth and something else, something spicy and exotic that she couldn’t quite place.
All stood and regarded the ancient tree with reverence. It was as if the very air was charged with the weight of centuries of tradition. Lin could feel her heart racing.
Then Kura said, <“Welcome, brothers and sisters and honored guests, to the heart of our world, the cradle of our existence. Here is where we honor the gods, where our ancestors’ spirits dwell, and where we come to seek their blessings.”> He looked over the group, his gaze lingering on Bonnie and the other girls. <“You have chosen to be part of this sacred rite, to offer yourselves to the gods for our people’s fertility. Are you ready?”>
The girls cheered, but none did so louder than Bonnie.
“FUCK YEAH!” she shouted.
The old woman’s face crinkled in amusement. <“Then in the name of the gods, let us begin!”>