Prologue
From the field journal of Dr. Layla Harwood:
I took this photograph (see above) during my first stay with Naka-Mur and his tribe, the Aiwaha. The young woman in it–whose name I never learned–was one of those who willingly volunteered to be a human sacrifice, to be hanged from a sacred tree along with several others as part of the annual Festival of Fertility ceremony. The photograph was taken mere hours before the ceremony was due to begin, but despite her imminent death the woman was in high spirits. She explained to me what an honor it was to be chosen, and that she was happy to give up her life to ensure her people’s survival. I was not able to witness the ceremony itself at the time, but I have no doubt this young woman, barely more than a girl, met the fate Naka-Mur has repeatedly described to me: along with all the other girls who were chosen, she was sacrificed by slow hanging from a sacred tree deep in the jungle while the tribe celebrated both life and death with a massive orgy. Her body was left hanging through the night, then cut down at the first light of dawn and taken to the the fields where the Aiwaha grow their crops. There, it was laid facedown in an unmarked grave and buried. In so doing she and the other girls nourished the crops that nourished the tribe.
It is hard for me to describe the emotions I felt as I snapped a picture of that young woman, smiling and happy in the final hours of her short life. I felt pity for her, but also a growing sense of fascination. I will even admit to feeling respect as well, as what she did was very selfless in its own way. To give up one’s life is never an easy thing.
Did she have any regrets, at the end? Any second thoughts? I do not know, but given her positive attitude I sincerely doubt it. Perhaps I will see the Festival of Fertility myself one day. I hope so–it would be an anthropologist’s dream to study such a ceremony up close and personal!
Another interesting fact I have learned since first coming into contact with the Aiwaha tribe is that gender roles are more malleable than one might have otherwise expected. It is true that most of those who venture out into the jungle to hunt for food are men, however, there are exceptions. Women who display the necessary skills and talent may also take up the spear and bow to keep the village supplied with a steady stream of fresh meat. During my first stay with the Aiwaha, I was fortunate to encounter one of these exceptional young women as she was heading out with a hunting party. Her expression was one of focus and determination, and though she was clearly eager to be about her duties, she agreed to speak with me for a few minutes and pose for a photograph as part of my ongoing study of the Aiwaha culture and people. I learned that the woman’s name was Metztli, and at twenty years old she was already a huntress of particular renown. Each of the tattoos on her left arm commemorates a particularly notable kill or feat of courage.
Metztli is also known for being particularly fertile, having borne four children and, at the time this picture was taken, was hoping for a fifth. When I spoke with her briefly and told her I planned to bring some of my students along for my next visit with the tribe, she expressed interest in being impregnated by one of them. The offer, made in good faith, was certainly…generous, in its own way. However, I am not certain if that would be the best idea, as Metztli is a very intense person, and that intensity can be intimidating to those who are not already accustomed to it. When I next visit Tlacloban, I will have to make sure Metztli does not pursue any of my male students as doggedly as she pursues the animals she hunts.
Such a task, I suspect, will be easier said than done.
Part Seven
From his vantage point, concealed from view behind dense layers of thick foliage, Tenoch of the Aiwaha watched the foreigners with a mixture of condescending bemusement and mild curiosity. The one in the lead, the older woman–Harwood, he reminded himself, her name is Harwood— seemed to at least know a little of what she was doing, but the rest of them looked comically out-of-place. They grunted and sweated with those ludicrous bulky things on their backs, lurching and tramping and even half-slipping in the wet loam underfoot.
Why encumber themselves so? he wondered. He himself carried little save for a small pouch on the belt of his loincloth and the quiver of arrows and bow on his back. It was impossible for him to fathom why anyone would require anything else. Moving through the dense jungle came as naturally to him breathing. He needed no oversized knife to hack through it, or any other such foreign nonsense.
And yet, he reflected, were I to visit their homeland, I do not think I would fit in well there either. He’d listened to Dr. Harwood, the foreign woman who’d become such a steadfast friend of his people, tell stories about it during her last visit. Much of it was utterly, terrifyingly alien. Towers of glass and metal, roads of flat stone stretching beyond the horizon…he found it hard to even imagine such a place. I would not like to visit there, even if I could. It is too big, too loud, too…much.
He shifted his weight a little. Like most young men of the tribe, he was tall, broad-shouldered and fit, his muscles well-defined and clearly visible against his dark bronze complexion. Brightly colored tattoos of a tribal sort marked his pectorals, forearms and cheeks, as well as the skin just beneath his eyes.
<“These must be the ones we were told to watch for,“> he said aloud in his native tongue.
Metztli, standing beside him, curled her lip. Her grip on her long-hafted, flint-tipped spear tightened visibly. <“It is a good thing we were not sent out to gather meat, because they have surely frightened off all the game with the racket they are making. A rampaging boar makes less noise and leaves less of a trail. Foreigners.“> Disgust colored the words. <“I had hoped that perhaps one of their men might be worthy of siring another child on me. I was foolish. Truly, I do not understand why Naka-Mur has allowed them to come here. They will only be a burden to us.“>
<“I am sure he has his reasons,”> he replied. <“Naka-Mur is a wise and strong High Chief, fair and just. I have never seen him err in judgment.“>
Metztli folded her arms over her bare breasts. Like all Aiwaha women, she didn’t bother with clothes. Her body was sleek and well-shaped, with an athlete’s toned, curvaceous form. There was very little about her physical shape which hinted at the four children she’d borne, a fact that many of the other women in Tlacloban viewed with envy. She also sported tattoos in shades of crimson, yellow and verdant green, but they were different from Tenoch’s own. Every member of the tribe was marked differently, for each tattoo told part of a person’s life and every person’s path was different. Metztli’s markings were harsh, angular and sharp. Tenoch’s swirled and coiled like tendrils of smoke.
<“There’s always a first time,“> she said. <“No man is all-knowing.“>
<“No, but actions speak louder than words,“> he countered. <“Was it not the leader of these foreigners, the knowledge-woman, who spoke on our behalf? Were it not for her, others might have come to take our lands away from us. Now, we are protected by the foreigners’ own law. And as for being useless, I think that remains to be seen. They have journeyed far, very far, in order to meet us. The journey alone must have been very hard. Surely that alone counts for something?”>
<“We will see,”> Metztli said, her tone terse. <“I still do not trust them fully. Who is to say the knowledge woman is not merely trying to gain our trust in service of some hidden cause? I do not trust the foreigners, Tenoch, and will not until they give me reason to. And I will believe in their usefulness when they demonstrate it with their deeds. Perhaps, if they are blessed by the gods, I will judge one of their men worthy of giving me his seed. But I doubt it. The weakness of foreigners is well-known, and these are no different. I think–and hope–they will leave soon.”>
<“I almost feel sorry for the male in question, should one of them catch your eye,”> teased Tenoch. He and Metztli had coupled together casually since their arrival on the Aiwaha border, as there was little else to do but wait for the foreigners to arrive. His back still had a collection of half-healed scratches from their latest encounter.
Metztli drove an elbow into his ribs, making him gasp. Tenoch doubled over, clutching his side, but Metztli was already moving. <“Let us go and collect them before they wander off a cliff or something. The sooner we bring them to Tlacloban, the sooner I can go hunting and actually do something worthwhile.”>
Tenoch muttered something unflattering under his breath and followed, still holding his abdomen. Metztli did not slow or look back.
From Lin Ming’s point of view, the Aiwaha just seemed to come out of nowhere.
One moment, she was looking down at her hiking boots, making sure she didn’t slip on a wet rock or tree root. The next, she was looking up—and they were just there, as sudden and unexpected as if they’d been conjured from the humid jungle itself.
The entire group ground to a sudden halt, staring in wonder. They’d heard so much of the Aiwaha from the professor, but this was their first time seeing them with their own eyes. There were two of them, a young man and a young woman, the former around five feet ten inches, the latter a few inches shorter. Both were easily taller than Lin Ming, and the male looked strong enough to break her in two. His arms and legs rippled with muscle, and his bare chest was impressively defined. He noticed her scrutiny, cocked his head, and stared right back.
Lin Ming hurriedly looked back down at her shoes and prayed she hadn’t offended him. But if she had, he hid it very well and kept right on staring.
Harwood approached them and held her hand up, palm open. <“Greetings,”> she said in fluent Aiwaha. <“I am—”>
“We know who you are,” Metztli cut her off in heavily accented English. “I saw you the last time we were here. You captured my image on your picture box. You are late. We have been expecting you for days. Come with us now and follow closely.”
<“Nice to see you too, Metztli,”> Harwood commented drily.
Metztli looked over her students, one by one. She dismissed almost all of them instantly, with three exceptions. Her eyes flicked to Brian. If he is as strong as he looks, perhaps he will not be completely useless. Then she scrutinized Jeremy. He has a dangerous glint in his eye. Perhaps there is something of a warrior’s spirit in him.
Then her gaze settled on Isaiah, who squirmed under her penetrating stare like a beetle pinned by a flint knife. Metztli’s pulse quickened a little, seeing his youthful features and the most unusual shade of his hair. It was even more strange than the golden-haired young woman’s, but not necessarily in a negative way. After a second, she pointed at him. <“The young male there, near the back. Who is he?”>
<“Him? That’s Isaiah,”> Harwood said. She turned to her, suddenly wary. <“Please do not try what I think you are contemplating. He is still very young.”>
<“He is weak,”> Metztli declared. <“And soft. And probably stupid. He is helpless like a little rabbit. I will look after him and make sure he does not get himself killed and eaten. Someone must.”>
<“I thought you said foreigners were useless and clumsy,”> Tenoch drawled.
<“They are. I stand by my words. But at least some are pleasing to look upon.”>
He chortled. <“How quickly your tune changes.”>
<“Shut up, Tenoch,”> Metztli snapped. She turned to Harwood. <“Leave him to my care. I will make him strong.”>
Harwood couldn’t suppress a snort of laughter. <“You just want him to get you pregnant.”>
Metztli didn’t even try to deny it. <“Yes. I wish for my next son or daughter to have hair like his. Red like the sunset. But I will also teach him many useful things.”>
Harwood considered. <“If he agrees, you can. But only if he agrees. And Metztli…try to gentle with him and be considerate of his feelings.”>
<“I do not think that will be necessary,”> Metztli assured her. <“Even now he stares at my body like a hungry panther. The only feelings he will need assuaged are those in his groin.”>
As they spoke, the rest of the group spoke quietly among themselves.
“So that’s what they look like,” Bonnie said, her breath hitching. “Did you see that guy? God, he’s hot. I hope he’ll fuck me when we get to Tlacloban.”
“The girl is very pretty too,” Richard remarked. “Harwood was not exaggerating—the women really don’t wear anything.”
“I’m not complaining,” said Brian. “But the look in her eye kinda sets me on edge. She looks really, uh…intense.”
“I think she looks badass,” said Krupa. “I’d love to talk to her.”
“I hope we can visit the tribe’s storyteller,” Gabby said hopefully. “I can’t wait to start writing their oral history down!”
“I just wanna get fucked,” Bonnie said shortly.
Aisha rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I think we’ve established by that now, Bonnie.”
Metztli turned to face them and all conversation instantly ceased. Her intense, penetrating gaze raked over the group, lingering for a moment on each of them. Her eyes widened slightly when she reached Isaiah, and she gave him a small predatory smile that made him feel almost like the animals she hunted.
“This way,” she said curtly. “If you do not slow us down, we will reach Tlacloban before nightfall.”
She turned and begin walking deeper into the jungle without another word. Harwood translated for her and the rest of the group hurried to follow, with Tenoch bringing up the rear. Metztli’s nudity didn’t seem to bother her in the slightest as she moved through the jungle with a panther’s grace.
<“Well, she hasn’t changed,”> Harwood commented drily.
Tenoch nodded. <“Metztli is ever as she has always been. I hope she has not given offense.”>
<“Not at all.”> The professor brushed it aside. <“She’s a driven young woman. I can respect that. Her English is also improving.”>
<“Naka-Mur in his wisdom has decreed all must learn at least a few words of it,”> Tenoch confirmed. “If we are to engage with the world outside, we must be prepared.”>
<“That sounds like him. How is he since I was last here?”>
<“He is well. He has five more grandchildren to dote upon since last you stayed with us. The gods smile on him. He is very anxious to see you and hear all you have to say.”>
<“It will be very good to see him again,” Harwood said, smiling broadly. <“It has been too long. Far too long.”>
Tenoch considered his next words carefully. <“These others with you. I thought there would be more than just a mere handful.”>
<“There might have been, but many of my students did not wish to undertake such a perilous journey. It is their misfortune, but it was their choice to make. Those with me are my best and brightest.”>
<“The female with gold hair. Is she claimed?”>
<“Bonnie?”> Harwood laughed. <“No. Not even close. She loves sex so much she’s almost Aiwaha already. I’m sure she’d be happy to…spend some time with you, if you asked.”>
<“I shall,”> Tenoch said. <“It would be very interesting to couple with such a woman, one who does not hide her body in shame as most outsiders do. I do not understand why you do this. Our bodies are beautiful, shaped by the gods so we can enjoy them. That you hide them under clumsy garments is very strange.”>
Harwood snickered. <“Just don’t try to approach Aisha—the one with very dark skin over there—in the same way. She is claimed, and her husband—standing there to her left, that’s him—might react rashly.”>
<“I understand. I shall make sure the men of the village know she is not available.”>
The jungle began to grow denser around them, the air thicker, the humidity more stifling as Metztli led them on. The underbrush scratched at their legs as they hurried through, trying to keep up with Metztli’s long strides. It was hard on all of them, but Lin Ming and Isaiah had it worst of all.
Lin Ming wiped sweat from her eyes and tightened her grip around the stick she was using as a makeshift hiking staff. Her shirt was damp with perspiration. Certain provinces in her home country could and did get humid, but nothing like this. It reminded her of how hot and steamy the bathroom was whenever she stepped out of the shower, only this time it was everywhere–as were the bugs that thrived in it. Lin Ming had taken care to spray herself down with repellent, but even that was not enough to deter them all. Strangely, the two Aiwaha seemed not to notice, nor did any of the insects appear to pay them any mind. Lin Ming made a mental note to ask Dr. Harwood about it. If we are here to learn, I would like to start with that, she thought ruefully.
The rest of her group seemed to be faring a little better. Jeremy, in particular, was holding up quite well from what Lin Ming could see. The only exception was Isaiah. If anything, he looked even worse. Lin Ming winced in sympathy, but Isaiah didn’t notice. He was struggling to breathe, his chest heaving from the effort of trying to suck in oxygen from the hot, humid air. The heat of the jungle pressed down on him like a physical weight, making his clothes cling to his body and his limbs feel leaden.
“I thought you’d handle this better,” Jeremy said. “Don’t you have a lot of humidity over there in redneck-ville?”
“Fuck off,” Isaiah panted. “I’m from West Texas, idiot. East Texas is the half with all the humidity.”
He stopped, bent over and placed his hands on his knees, panting hard–and nearly jumped out of his skin when he looked up and saw Metztli standing next to him. She had moved so quietly and so quickly, it was like she appeared out of thin air.
“Rabbit,” she said curtly in heavily accented and broken English. “Weak. I will make you strong.”
Isaiah felt his face flush with embarrassment. He knew he shouldn’t have let himself get so out of shape. “I’m sorry,” he wheezed. “I’ll…I’ll try to keep up.”
“Words.” She sneered. “Too many words. Deeds speak more.”
She grabbed him roughly by the arm, her fingers digging painfully into his flesh. He winced, but there was no escaping her iron grip. Metztli held him tight as she cut a vine with a stone knife she carried and tied one end around his captive wrist. Then she tied the other end around her own.
“Now you will keep up,” she declared. “Not slow everyone down.”
As if to underscore her words, she yanked on the makeshift leash, forcing Isaiah to stumble forward. His lungs burned and his legs ached, but he found that he could go faster when he focused on keeping Metztli from pulling him off his feet. She did not even look back at him.
“Should…should we do something?” Aisha asked Harwood.
“I hope not.” Jeremy was clearly enjoying Isaiah’s predicament. “This is the funniest thing I’ve seen on the trip so far. If I had popcorn, I’d make some and watch.”
Harwood glanced at him, then back at Aisha. “Isaiah will be fine. Metztli won’t hurt him.”
“Can’t you ask her to stop?” Brian asked worriedly.
“I could. Whether she’d listen is another matter entirely. Don’t worry, everyone. Metztli is…a handful, but at the end of the day she means well. Isaiah will be fine.”
“She scares the hell out of me,” Brian admitted.
Tenoch looked rather embarrassed by Metztli’s behavior. <“She does not trust outsiders,“> he explained, his voice low so that only Harwood could hear. <“She thinks that they are soft and will not survive in the jungle.”>
As if to illustrate his point, Metztli turned as Isaiah lost his footing and fell to the ground. “Get up, Rabbit,” she ordered. “Get up and be strong or stay down and be weak. Choose!”
Isaiah struggled to his feet, wincing as he put weight on his leg. Metztli either didn’t notice his discomfort or didn’t care. She resumed her remorseless pace, dragging him all the while. As she walked, he couldn’t help but notice her rear was very pleasantly shaped.
Metztli caught him looking and rolled her eyes. “Stupid Rabbit. Distracted too easily.” She tanked on the vine. “Keep up!”
Isaiah yelped and nearly lost his footing again, but caught himself at the last minute.
They continued to push through the jungle for hours, until the afternoon shadows began to lengthen and the sun began to dip in the sky. Harwood and Tenoch occasionally pointed out plants or animals to the others, but mostly they just followed Metztli’s lead. It took the better part of the day to finally near Tlacloban, and when they did, Lin Ming’s eyes widened with wonder.
The first thing she noticed was just how big it was. There were hundreds of people there, all Aiwaha of every age and sex. The men wore loincloths like Tenoch, but the women wore nothing at all. They were completely at ease with their bodies, and more than a few of them were copulating casually and openly in the humid jungle air. A young woman rode the cock of a strong warrior without a hint of shyness as they passed, while two more, several huts down, took turns having sex with a young man barely out of his teens.
Bonnie in particular seemed moved by it all. Lin Ming even saw tears in the blonde slut’s eyes, for as Bonnie saw how casual and open the Aiwaha were about sex, she knew she’d finally found paradise. Lin Ming, for her part, could only stare. Her mouth gaped like a fish. She wasn’t the only one.
“Wow,” Aisha murmured, as she observed the girls copulating. “You weren’t kidding, professor. I mean, I knew what to expect, but…seeing it is something else entirely.”
“You’ll get used to it,” Harwood assured her. “Just as I did, the first time I was here.”
“I’m already used to it,” Bonnie said, a growing, eager, hungry smile spreading over her face. “This place is fucking awesome! There’s so many hot guys here I don’t even know where to start!”
Tenoch cleared his throat. “Please,” he said, switching to rough English. “Follow me. I show you where you stay.”
“Good. You go.” Metztli said tersely. Then, in Aiwaha, she added, <“I have better things to do than babysit foreigners all day.”>
Isaiah whimpered helplessly as he watched her go. The group resumed its winding way through the village. Its buildings, Lin Ming noted, were a mixture of thatched huts and wooden longhouses, simple but sturdily constructed. The smell of smoke and cooking meat was everywhere, wafting from a dozen different fires. Boar, caiman, fish…anything that could be hunted and held over an open flame was on the menu. Lin Ming felt her stomach growling as the delicious scents tickled her nose. Children ran and played, though many of them paused in mid-merriment to regard the new arrivals with the sort of curiosity only children are able to muster.
They weren’t the only ones. All the villagers watched them interest as the odd foreigners made their way through the village. The men gazed at Aisha, Krupa, Gabby, Lin Ming and Bonnie with a mixture of curiosity and growing carnal interest, while the women giggled and whispered among themselves, pointing at Jeremy, Brian, Isaiah, and Richard as they passed.
The huts assigned to them were clean and well-maintained, with palm fronds and thatch on the roofs to keep out wind and rain. There were hand-woven hammocks hanging from the walls and piles of colorful knit blankets on the earthen floors. It was homey, in its own sort of way.
Tenoch gestured for them to enter. “On behalf of my people and at the bidding of my chieftain Naka-Mur, I grant you guest right,” he said formally. “You are welcome in Tlacloban for as long as you wish to stay. Please, rest and refresh yourselves after your long journey.”
A young woman of maybe sixteen appeared at his elbow, with a small cloth bundle in her arms. Two more followed behind her, bearing large bowls of water that they placed on the floor.
Tenoch took it from her and presented it to Harwood. “While you are here, we ask that you respect our customs and dress as we do. Your men will wear these.”
Harwood unfolded one of the items in the bundle, revealing a plain brown loincloth attached to a belt made of some sort of tanned hide. <”My thanks,”> she said, inclining her head respectfully.
Tenoch smiled and nodded back, then left them to get settled.
Harwood’s hands went to her shirt hem. “Well, let’s not waste any time. Ladies, time for those clothes to come off. When in Rome and all that!”
Bonnie couldn’t disrobe fast enough. The other girls also seemed to take it in stride for the most part. Lin Ming was the only one who hesitate, undressing with halting jerky movements. Part of her screamed to stop, that this was wrong, that it was disgraceful, but she bit her lip and ignored it as best she could. I knew, when I first signed up to come here, that it would come to this. I cannot disgrace myself by trying to back out now. Her cargo pants slid to the dirt floor, followed by her shirt, bra, and panties.
Lin Ming shivered a little despite the humidity. A stray gust of wind caressed her, making her nipples harden and making goosebumps break out on her arms and legs. Her small breasts rose and fell with each breath she took, and her shiny black hair fell all the way to her ass.
She felt vulnerable, totally exposed, and resisted with all her might the urge to cover herself. In that moment, Lin envied the Aiwaha their lack of shame. They were completely at ease with their bodies, completely relaxed about their sexuality. Was it possible she might learn to be even a fraction as comfortable in her own skin as they were in theirs?
At least the heat isn’t quite so bad now, she thought. Without layers of clothes to make it worse, the humidity was more easily borne. She was reminded that the Aiwaha practice of wearing very little, or nothing at all, had a practical as well as cultural aspect to it.
“Atta girl!” Bonnie slapped her on the back. “I knew you had it in you!” She turned to Richard. “That’ll be twenty bucks.”
Lin was confused. “W-what?”
“Richard here bet me twenty bucks that you wouldn’t undress when we got to Tlacloban,” Bonnie explained. “He thought you’d chicken out, but I knew better.”
Brian struggled not to stare at his naked classmates as he and the boys undressed as well. Lin watched, her mouth going dry, as they stripped down before tying the loincloths around their waists. It was Lin’s first time ever seeing a cock up close, and now she was seeing four. Even after the four boys stood in their new garments, the swaying fabric between their legs left little to the imagination.
“You’re really beautiful,” Brian told her, as she took a turn washing herself with water from one of the bowls.
Startled, Lin looked up at him. “…Thank you,” she said demurely. “That is…kind of you to say, Brian.”
“Let’s eat,” Bonnie declared, wiping water from her face as she too finished cleaning herself. “I’m starving, and not just for food.”
Harwood rolled her eyes but let the comment slide. “I’m sure we could all use to a bite to eat. But before we head over there, a word of caution. Do not ever forget that we are guests here. Naka-Mur is our host, and we must be on our best behavior at all times. Do not do anything that may give offense, to him or to anyone else in Tlacloban. When you meet him, you are to be polite, courteous, and considerate.” Her eyes narrowed, a fearsome scowl coming over her pretty face. “Or you’ll answer to me. Understand?”
Everyone hurriedly nodded.
“Then let’s go.”
Harwood didn’t need a guide to show her to the Great House. She knew exactly where it was, having visited Tlacloban before. The Great House was much larger than the other huts around it, and taller again by half, with a thatched roof punctured by a large hole in the middle to allow smoke to escape. A goodly amount of it was already coming through. As they got closer, Lin Ming could hear sounds within: laughter, cheerful shouting, the loud buzz of many voices all talking at once. She could smell food too, lots of it. It made her belly gurgle.
“Should…should we wait to be announced or something?” Richard asked.
Hardwood snorted. “Not at all. The Aiwaha do not stand on ceremony for such things. We can just head on in.”
They did, filing into the Great House. It was much more crowded inside than it had looked from the outside. Aiwaha of every age and sex were gathered there. Lin Ming recognized Tenoch eating and laughing with several young men his age, while Metztli leaned against one of the walls, her posture aloof and distant as she took bites out of some brightly-colored fruit. Not everyone was preoccupied with food, though. Quite a few of the Aiwaha were also engaging in sexual intercourse. Lin Ming saw a girl bent over, leaning against one of the wooden beams that held up the roof as a man fucked her from behind. Another was being taken on the floor, missionary style. No one seemed to notice to care. A general atmosphere of merriment pervaded throughout.
Bonnie barely got five paces before she was no longer able to restrain herself. She picked a young man at random, walked over to him, and pushed his loincloth aside to stroke his cock. The man didn’t need to know any English to get the message. Placing his hands on her hips, he turned her gently around and bent her over, exposing her pussy briefly before he thrust himself inside her and began pounding merrily away.
In the center of the room, a large, very tall man with black hair just starting to go gray at the temples sat cross-legged on an elevated dais. His loincloth was elaborately woven and brightly colored, and his chest, arms, face and legs were so covered in tattoos that very little of his actual skin could be seen. His dark eyes snapped with intelligence but his face was open and friendly looking, split into a broad smile. His body was very strong looking, hard and lean like the trunk of an oak. Crow’s feet around his eyes gave him a grandfatherly air.
He also wore, as a symbol of office, a splendidly ornate headdress plumed with bird-of-paradise feathers. Yellowed fangs and teeth from different animals hung from a necklace around his neck. His hands, large enough to hold a grapefruit in each palm with room to spare, raised for quiet.
Almost instant silence descended, broken only by whispers as the Aiwaha watched the newcomers walk among them.
With a grunt, Naka-Mur of the Aiwaha, High Chieftain of Tlacloban, rose to his feet.
“Welcome,” he boomed, his voice resounding through the Great House. He spoke in English, and seemed much more fluent in it than Tenoch or Metztli. “Welcome, all of you, to our village, to our home, to our family. You are honored guests, and we are honored to have you among us. You come from afar, and you have traveled great distances to be here. We thank you for your courage, your strength, and your trust in us. We shall do everything in our power to make your stay here a pleasant and memorable one.”
His voice grew quiet, taking on a more intimate tone. “But I must also remind you, dear guests, that you are among our people now. Our ways may be strange to you, our customs different. We ask that you respect these things, and show the same respect to our people that we show to you. Do not judge us by your own standards, but try to understand us for what we are. We are a simple people, content with our lives and our ways. We ask only that you keep your minds open, and share with us your own wisdom, your own knowledge, your own culture, as we share ours with you.”
With a nod, he gestured to a pair of Aiwaha standing nearby, who hurried forward with a low wooden table balanced on their shoulders. They set it down before Naka-Mur, who took his seat again, and signaled for the others to do likewise. As they all sat cross-legged on the floor around the table, Naka-Mur clapped his hands once, loudly. Immediately, more Aiwaha appeared, bearing wooden trays laden with food and drink. Harwood’s students sat too–save Bonnie who was already moving on to her second fuck-buddy of the evening–and the servers filled their hands and laps immediately with a wide array of fresh fruit and cooked meat.
“Layla!” Naka-Mur shouted, giving the space next to him a hearty slap. “Friend of my heart! Friend of my people! Come, sit with me here at a place of honor! For too long, you have been away, and I have missed you sorely. Tell me of the goings-on of the wider world!”
Harwood smiled and accepted the invitation. “It is very good to see you too,” she added, squatting down on Naka-Mur’s right. “I wish I could have returned sooner.”
She began to eat, savoring the delicious food, and soon found herself caught up in conversation with the High Chieftain. Unsurprisingly, he seemed particularly interested in the state of the environment and the efforts being made by different nations to address the growing threat of climate change and deforestation. At length, he changed the subject. “Tell me of those you’ve brought with you,” he said. “I would know of them, their names and stories. The woman with hair of gold seems to be fitting in quite well.” He pointed at Bonnie, who was laughing as her latest partner fucked her.
“Bonnie is…a handful,” Harwood laughed. “She’s a good person, very sure of herself. The other women with me are Aisha, Krupa, Gabby, and Lin Ming.” She pointed out each of them to him in turn. When she got to Lin Ming, Naka-Mur nearly did a double-take.
“That,” he said, “is the tiniest woman I have ever seen.”
“She’s got a large heart, though,” said the professor. “Of all my pupils, she is the one who overcame the most to be here. She grew up in an environment almost the opposite of yours–her father taught her to be ashamed of her body rather than rejoice in it.”
Naka-Mur shook his head. “I can think of no worse way to raise a daughter. You are right: the fact that she still chose to come here demonstrates great courage and spirit. The young men in your group seem healthy and strong, too. That is good, for they have much to learn and we have much to teach them.”
He took a big handful of dried grasshoppers preserved in honey, a delicacy among his folk. Harwood took that moment to show Naka-Mur a picture of her son, which caused him no end of delight. “If he does not have a godfather already, I will gladly volunteer,” he boomed. “When can I meet him?”
“It will be a few more years,” Harwood admitted. “He’s only a small child right now, but when he gets a bit older, the first thing I will do is bring him here.”
“It will be a joy to welcome him into our tribe! I shall look forward to the day!” Naka-Mur waved to a young man standing nearby. “You remember my dear nephew, Zolin?”
Zolin was tall, almost as tall as Brian, though he was a few years older, perhaps 21 or 22. He also shared his uncle’s large, solid build without sharing Naka-Mur’s protruding stomach. He nodded politely. “You are welcome among us once more,” he said. He looked about to say more, but then he saw something else, something past where Harwood was sitting, and sucked in a breath. “Please excuse me.”
“Of course, nephew! Go have fun!” Naka-Mur waved him off. “He is a good sort, my nephew, though as I’m sure you remember, he never uses two words when one will do. A good quality, I think. My own mouth has gotten me into trouble more than I care to admit. Just ask my wife!”
Lin Ming, meanwhile, did her best to focus on filling her stomach. It helped take her mind off her current state of nudity, and she was starving. Someone pushed a generous portion of sizzling cooked meat on a pointed stick into the fire, and she tore into it. Her father would have been purple with rage at such terrible manners. But then, she reminded herself once more, Father is not here.
She giggled a little, tearing another strip of meat away with her teeth. She had no idea what sort of animal it came from, but it was delicious. Lin Ming devoured it with a gusto totally at odds with her small, delicate features and petite body.
Someone–she didn’t see who–handed her a cup made from a hollowed-out gourd. Lin Ming sniffed its contents and then took a sip. It was delicious! It was sweet and fruity-tasting, and best of all, it was cool. She gulped it eagerly, and found a second cup shoved into her hands before the first one was even empty.
Metztli watched the foreigners gorge themselves with hooded eyes. At least they weren’t insulting her people by refusing the food.
Her eyes flicked to Isaiah, who was busy chowing down on his third helping of cooked boar. I wonder if his other appetites are as hearty, she thought. When he finishes eating, I intend to find out.
Her hand strayed to her stomach. I hope the child he plants in me is a son. I want to have another son. She’d borne only one so far, along with three daughters. All four of them were in another part of the Great Hall, eating and laughing with other children their age while several elders watched over them. I will ensure the child does not grow up weak and soft like his father.
She hoped Isaiah had at least a little spirit. He’d need it, for what she had planned.
Metztli waited with a hunter’s patience for Isaiah to stand up. She knew he’d have to step outside eventually, perhaps to relieve himself in the bushes at the edge of the camp, and she quietly followed, unnoticed, in his wake.
Night was falling outside. The sky was aglow with the last rays of the sun, staining the heavens in brilliant shades of orange and pink and purple. Isaiah stopped and craned his neck upward to look at it. That was when Metztli made her move.
She walked up to him, grabbed his shoulder, and spun him around roughly before bringing him for a hard, tongue-filled kiss. Isaiah’s gasp of shock was muffled almost to nothing as she invaded his mouth, her tongue twining with his. She pulled him close and used her free hand to slip beneath his loincloth and start stroking his cock.
“Rabbit,” she said harshly, when she finally pulled away.
He gasped for air, his chest heaving. “Why do you keep calling me rabbit?”
She grinned, her teeth white in the gathering gloom. “Yes. Rabbit. Weak and soft and cute.”
She slapped his chest, hard, and then grabbed his cock again. After a few strokes, she shoved him roughly so that he lost his balance, landing on his back on the hard-packed dirt road running through the village. “Prove me wrong. I dare you.”
Isaiah lay there, shocked, as she straddled his hips. She gripped his cock and positioned it at her entrance, then sank down slowly, impaling herself on him. Her dark eyes locked with his, challenging him as she began to ride him, fast and hard, like an animal in heat. Her body moved with a primal grace, her perky breasts bouncing freely as she rode him. She leaned forward, her hands on his chest, and looked down at Isaiah with her piercing, dark eyes.
“Show me,” she hissed. “Show me you’re not weak.”
Isaiah gritted his teeth as she rode him. He reached up, grabbed her hips, and began to thrust upward, trying to meet her movements with equal force, but it was almost impossible for him to match her frenzied pace. Metztli was so strong, so unyielding, and yet so incredibly feminine. Her dark hair cascaded down around them like a waterfall, her skin glistening with sweat in the fading light.
She leaned forward further, her breasts brushing against his chest, and her eyes never left his face. “Faster,” she growled. “Come on! Are you even a man?”
Isaiah redoubled his efforts thrusting up into her with more force, his hips slapping against her ass. The ground beneath them thudded with each powerful impact and the air was filled with the sound of their bodies slapping together, drowning out the sounds coming from the Great Hall. Metztli’s eyes flashed with a mixture of pleasure and triumph.
“More!” she demanded. “Want more, Rabbit! Harder!”
Isaiah’s breath came ragged as he obeyed, slamming into her with renewed vigor. His hands gripped her hips, his fingers digging into her flesh. His face was a mask of strained concentration and sweat was beading on his forehead, but Metztli was utterly relentless. She cupped her breasts in both hands, teasing her nipples for added stimulation.
“Don’t dare stop,” she ground out through tightly clenched teeth. “Give me everything!”
Her words were like a whip, driving him to even greater heights of passion. He reached up, gripped her hair in his hands, and roughly pulled her down, taking control of their rhythm. He thrust up into her, harder and faster, feeling her body stretch and yield to his movements. She let out a surprised gasp–and then, to his shock, a look of mild approval flickered over her face.
“Good,” she snarled ferociously. “Act like man for once instead of rabbit. Take me!”
Her words were like a challenge, and he met it head-on, thrusting deeper and harder into her. The sensation of being inside her, of feeling her body move with his, was unlike anything he’d experienced when he’d lost his virginity to Bonnie. There was a wildness to Metztli, a feral quality that made sex with her exhilarating and terrifying all at once.
She moaned, her head thrown back, her dark hair falling across her bare breasts. Her eyes closed tightly, her expression a mixture of ecstasy and pain, as she fought to maintain control. No way would she let herself enter the realm of the gods before this soft, weak foreign boy.
Isaiah felt her body tense on top of him, and with a final powerful thrust, he plunged deeper than ever before and came so hard he nearly blacked out. His cock erupted, spasming and twitching as he poured his seed into her gorgeous, fertile body. Metztli felt every bit of it, every jerk and twitch of his manhood, every drop of his warm cum as it gushed into her womb.
She let herself go then, surrendering to the hurricane of ecstasy that been building inside her. Metztli threw back her head and shrieked to the sunset sky, her lean, athletic frame shaking from head to toe with the force of her release. Her pussy clamped down on him with almost crushing force, milking him of every last precious drop until his balls were completely drained.
Isaiah collapsed onto his back, utterly spent. Colored spots danced in front of his eyes, and his whole body ached. He was more thoroughly spent, more bone-tired than he’d ever been before in his young life. Even trying to catch his breath felt almost impossible. He could do nothing more than lie there, Metztli straddling him, his rapidly-softening cock still embedded inside her. His whole body was drenched with sweat.
Metzli was panting too, but other than that, she appeared unfazed. With languid, satisfied grace she got off of him, though she was quick to use a fallen green leaf lying on the ground nearby to prevent his cum from spilling out of her. “Not bad,” she finally said, in her harsh, thickly-accented English. “But much to learn. I see you tomorrow, Rabbit.”
She leaned down, brushing his cheek with her finger. “Be ready. I have much to teach you.”
Then she turned and walked off into the night, leaving him lying there. It took almost fifteen minutes for Isaiah to regain enough of his strength to struggle to his feet, but even then his legs nearly gave out from under him as he re-tied his loincloth around his waist. He felt like he’d been hit by a truck. He winced as he half-staggered back to the Great Hall, still struggling to wrap his mind around what had just happened.
No one even seemed to notice he’d gone. The feast was still in full swung, and Isaiah’s return was almost wholly unnoticed. Even Harwood, normally so observant, didn’t seem to realize he’d ever left. Isaiah grumbled something to himself and sat down heavily, wincing as he strained muscles that were already starting to ache. Several young women crept up to him, curious to get a good look at the foreigner with the unusual hair, but he waved them off wearily and they began to crowd around Richard and Brian instead.
Lin Ming, still sipping her drink, was actually starting to smile a little. The festive atmosphere was infectious, and after so many weeks of traveling, it was so nice to finally relax.
She would have been considerably less relaxed had she known that she, like Isaiah, had caught someone’s eye.
Zolin, standing close enough to observe her but not close enough for the tiny, petite foreign woman to notice his scrutiny, turned to his friends Coyotl, Tlaxoc and Xipec. They were his brothers in all but name, and he trusted them not to share what he was about to say next.
<“Do you see that one there?“> he said, nodding at Lin. <“The small one?”>
<“Yes. She is very pretty,“> Xipec said. <“What of her?“>
Zolin lifted his chin proudly, and when he spoke, his tone rang with iron determination and resolve. <“She is mine, though she does not yet know it. I have never seen her like before, and I want her. I am going to make her my woman.”>
Coyotl, the eldest of the group, clapped Zolin on the back. <“That is very good news, my brother. What are your plans, then? How do you intend to win her heart?”>
<“I will begin by presenting her with a suitable gift,”> Zolin declared. “I will hunt a jaguar and deliver its pelt to her. When she sees it, she will know of my strength and skill, and she will be most impressed. She will eagerly let me claim her.”>
Xipec looked uncertain. <“That is no easy thing,”> he said. To hunt and kill one of the great cats was considered an extremely difficult challenge, and very few who set out to acquire such a trophy returned to the village with one. Even Metztli, for all her skill, had not been able to accomplish it.
<“Nothing worth doing or having should come easy,”> replied Zolin. <“Struggle creates value. I set out at first light tomorrow morning, and I will not return without a fresh jaguar pelt to lay at the door of the hut she is staying in. This I swear, before the gods and on the names of my ancestors.”>
Tlaxoc sucked in a breath at the brash, sudden oath. <“I fear you are speaking in haste,”> he said. <“Such a vow should not be so lightly uttered.”>
Zolin turned to his friend, his eyes flashing with steely resolve. <“Nor has it been. She is the one, and by completing the quest I have set myself to, I will prove myself worthy of taking her. She will see that I am strong and brave and come to me willingly. Now, let us enjoy the rest of the feast, for tomorrow I will return either with a jaguar pelt or lie on the ground with my lifeblood spilled upon the earth. There is no other outcome, for I could not live with the shame if I fail. Come, my brothers, and drink with me. If tonight is my last, I shall make it count with good food in my belly and a warm woman around my cock.”>
Xipec nodded, a bit reluctantly. <“Then my heart is with you. May the gods look upon your quest favorably.”>
Tlaxoc and Coyotl murmured their support as well. They knew Zolin well enough to know that once he set his mind on something, it was best not to try and talk him out of it. They reached for the nearest platter of food and grabbed as much as they could fit in their hands, though Zolin reached instead for a pretty young tribeswoman who was standing nearby. The girl instantly realized what he wanted and smiled up at him.
<“It is an honor to couple with you,” she purred, reaching out to stroke his rapidly-stiffening cock. “Please, let us enjoy each other.”>
Zolin grunted in agreement and she hooked one of her legs around his waist, giving him access to her warm, wet pussy. Zolin put a hand around her back to hold her steady while she looped both arms around his neck. Then he slid inside her with a practiced, fluid ease.
He could feel her body trembling against his own, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she clung to him. He was careful not to rush, not yet, even though every nerve in his body was screaming for release. Instead, he let himself move slowly at first, feeling her body respond to his rhythm. She was tighter than most women he’d been with, but that only served to heighten the pleasure he felt as he thrust into her.
<“I am very fertile today,”> she panted, as he thrust slowly in and out of her. <“I…I hope the gods bless me with a child come morning.”>
Zolin groaned, feeling her words send a surge of desire through him. He picked up the pace slightly, his hips slapping against hers as he took her harder and faster. The sound of their flesh slapping together echoed in the night air, punctuated by their ragged breathing. Her nails dug into his shoulders, drawing tiny drops of blood. There was no romantic attachment between them, not like he felt for his intended, the foreigner girl. Only lust and mutual desire. If a healthy offspring came from that, so much the better. The tribe would be all the stronger for it.
He increased the pace of her coupling, holding her tightly. The girl’s face was a mask of carnal need, her lips twisted in something like a snarl. Zolin kissed her and let their tongues dance, pounding into her all the while.
Her breath came faster and faster, her eyes misting over. Zolin knew she was close to going over the edge. He’d seen it many times before and knew all the signs. She hit her orgasm exactly when he expected her to, clawing at his back and crying out as her pussy clamped down hard around his dick. Her triumphant screech was all but drowned out by the sounds of merriment around them, and those who did hear it didn’t look twice.
They kept at it, their bodies moving together in a frenzy of desire. Zolin could feel himself getting closer to his own release, and he knew he had to hold on just a little longer. He wanted this to last, to feel her warmth and her strength around him as long as possible. Her grip on him tightened as her orgasm faded, and she began to move in time with his thrusts, meeting him stroke for stroke.
Zolin snarled like a beast as he came. His cock sprayed his virile cum deep into the woman’s waiting body, filling her womb to overflowing in a matter of seconds. It felt absolutely glorious, just as it always did, and he held her fast, making sure she took every last drop.
He grinned savagely as she collapsed against him. He held her close, feeling the warmth of her body against his own. Around them, the celebration continued unabated. The drums still beat, the music still played, and the fire still crackled.
<“Thank you,”> the girl said, with a giggle that might have sounded innocent in any other circumstance. <“That was every bit as good as I thought it would be.”>
Zolin didn’t respond, other than to nod in agreement. He was still caught up in the afterglow of their coupling, his body warm and sated. <“May the gods give you a strong child,”> he finally said. <“Thank you for sharing yourself with me, and for letting us ascend to the realm of the gods for a few moments.”>
She smiled, and her eyes sparkled in the firelight. <“I hope I can come see you again soon, Zolin. I may bring some of my sisters with me next time!”>
She winked and got to her feet, moving with languid, satisfied grace like a contented cat. She gave his cock a final parting stroke with her slender hand before vanishing back into the crowd.
Zolin turned his attention back to his friends. Xipec held a cup made from a hollowed-out gourd out to him. Gratefully, he accepted and drank deep of its contents.
“That was some impressive coupling,” Xipec said, nodding in approval. <“Though you may want to try and be more restrained with the foreigner girl you’ve set your heart upon.”>
<“She looks like she’d break if I poked her too hard,”> Tlaxoc added.
Zolin rolled his eyes. <“Shut up.”> He took another drink from the gourd. <“I think I will go to sleep early tonight. I will need all my strength for the hunt. The great cats are no base prey.”> With that blunt declaration, he excused himself and made to leave the Great House.
The celebration went on long into the night, as it always did. The drums beat and the music played, and the fire crackled and danced. The revelers drank and sang and danced and regaled the foreigners with tales of the tribe’s history and mythic heroes, tales from their pantheon of myriad gods and goddesses. Zolin normally enjoyed a good storytelling, but not tonight.
He laid himself down on his sleeping mat–made of furs and animal skins he’d taken himself–and willed himself to sleep. It worked, and he slept until the earliest hours of the morning. When his eyes snapped open, he was instantly alert. Naka-Mur, his uncle, was snoring somewhere off to one side, and Zolin took care not to wake the older man as he gathered up his spear, bow and quiver of arrows.
He paused on his way out the door, uttering a silent prayer to the gods for success. Then he vanished into the jungle.