Captured by the Amazon Tribe (ScarlettFever & GeorgeoftheJungle

[GeorgeoftheJungle]

Gantu led the hunting party toward the small river that ran through the bottom of the valley. He knew that panthers frequented this spot; small game abounded here, drinking the dark water and taking refuge in the tree limbs. The air felt heavy with the afternoon heat. The canopy above obscured the sky, holding in the thick air. All around, birds cried out, sending out frantic warnings and lamentations to fellow members of their flock. Gantu blocked out the din; he focused like a sunbeam on the hope of nabbing big cat, a prize whose coat he was determined to possess.

Gantu's dark brown eyes scanned the undergrowth. The muscles of his broad shoulders tensed as he crept, his two legs like springs ready to explode off the ground. His instinct told him he was close, on the verge of capturing the prize. He raised his hand, signaling quiet. The other members of the party complied with his request. Gantu's handsome face, easy manner and quiet confidence made him a natural leader.

But not everyone shared an affinity for Gantu.

"Gantu, why do you lead us on this silly chase?" whined Baka, a skinny warrior who scowled as he stared into the forest. "You know it is folly, don't you?"

"I dreamt of capturing a panther," said Gantu with a hiss. "Magala said I must hunt what stalks my dreams. I won't give up until I capture one."

Baka shook his head. "That witch doctor is feeble with age. When I'm chief, we'll talk about your dreams. For now, I humor you."

Gantu held his tongue and gritted his teeth. As son of the chief, Baka had the annoying habit of bossing around the other members of the tribe, arrogant with the promise of stepping into the role of his father. But few liked the tribal heir; Gantu and his friends secretly complained about Baka for his cowardice in battle, his shortcomings as a hunter. But they couldn't fight tradition. Unless challenged, Baka would one day become the chief, rising to power. Gantu's friends had suggested he usurp power from the skinny, fake chief, but the notion of a naked grab for chief was considered forbidden.

Then Gantu saw it--the black-as-night flash of fur in the tree; a shadowy form that leapt from limb to limb with deadly silence. "There!" called Gantu, pointing up, readying his blow gun.

Then a roar filled the forest. It sounded like the sky was ripping. Gantu ran to a clearing in the canopy and looked up. He couldn't believe what he saw. A huge, bird-like object was hurtling downward, emitting a noise that sounded like the roar of 10,000 waterfalls. The giant object stood out against the sky, its wings stiff and glinting in the sunlight, its body billowing the blackest smoke he'd ever seen. It disappeared into the trees, and seconds later he heard a crumpling, breaking sound accompanied by a dull, searing hiss. An acrid smell filled the air.

Gantu led the party toward the sound, their almost-naked bodies moving with practiced graced through the undergrowth and between towering tree trunks. Soon he came upon an astonishing sight. The huge bird thing lay crumpled amid the trees, it's long, thin body ripped in half. Through the smoke, he glimpsed something even stranger.

It was a young woman, sitting within the bird in a strange-looking chair, wreathed in smoke. Bodies lay all about; many had been thrown out of the bird and into the trees. He ran toward the girl, producing his knife and cutting her out of the strange, flat ties that held her to the seat. Fire spread quickly, and he freed her a moment before flames engulfed the entire structure. He ran far from the craft, feeling the heat on his back. He looked down at the human that he cradled in his arms.

Her strange beauty astonished him. Her skin bore an unearthly, fair hue; her hair flaming in a red color he'd never seen. Her rough, thick robes covered almost her entire body; how could such a creature survive in the world?

"Why do you hold that one? This is clearly a demon!" shouted Baka. "We must kill her. Now!" He brandished his knife, eager as always to kill a vulnerable creature.

"No," said Gantu. "There can be consequences for killing demons. We must take her to Magala. He will know what to do. But first, let us give her some water." He lay her down on a patch of grass. "See if others survived the fire!" he called to the other members of the party.

He looked down at the creature's beautiful face. Could this have something to do with his dream? He would soon find out.

 

[ScarlettFever]

Acrid smoke filled her nostrils and she gasped, coughing, choking. She moaned, pain shooting through her entire body, and she heard strange voices around her. She struggled to get up, but whether her body moved or it was a figment of her imagination, she could not tell. She felt trapped, suspended within her body but chained and unable to control her limbs or communicate. A hacking cough ravaged her slender form again, and this time, she moved, her body bending as she breathed in great gulps of fresh air. She smelled the pungent aromas of vegetation, moisture, soil, and decaying plants and wood. She heard the tell-tale snap of feet scurrying over branches, and in the distance, the cry of a Macaw.

Gentle hands lifted her shoulders, and she felt the supple touch of a leaf against her lips. A foreign tongue spoke, and although she did not know the words, she opened her mouth, instinctively knowing she should drink. Pure heaven poured into her mouth and down her throat, the sweet water cool and refreshing on her balmy skin as it dribbled down her chin. She felt sticky and uncomfortable, her limbs leaden and sore, but she forced her eyes open to look up at her benefactor. She saw brown skin and dark, kind eyes, and she offered a small smile of thanks. He spoke in his strange tongue, but the light was too bright, and she closed her eyes, listening to his voice, soothed by it, and she drifted into warm blackness.

-------------------------------

"Are your parents really not coming to graduation?" Felicité asked, her eyes wide as she brushed a light coat of mascara on her eyelashes.

"No, they're too busy," she replied matter of factly, slipping on a pair of white pumps that buckled on the sides. The redhead maneuvered the straps and buckles on her shoes until they were snug, and she stood, running her hands over her hips and smoothing out invisible wrinkles from her vintage Dior gown.

"But you haven't even seen them since last summer, right?" the brunette asked, turning to face her roommate. "You stayed with my family during Fall break. You spent Christmas with Cassandra and her family near the Thames River, and for spring break you were interviewing for admissions at Oxford. Surely they could find time to come to your graduation."

The other girl scoffed, shaking her head and suppressing the old, tired feelings of disappointment and abandonment she'd known her entire life. Her parents were wealthy. No, make that uber wealthy. They were so wealthy that when they were tired of having nannies and tutors underfoot on the grounds of their six homes, when she turned 10, they packed her bags and forked out $77,000 a year for her to attend one of the world's most prestigious and oldest private boarding schools in Porrentruy, Switzerland. Not that she didn't love her school. Kathleen McGowen adored College et Lycee Saint-Charles and the home it offered her for the very first time. However, she knew that she was the unwanted child, and it still stung.

"Felicité, remember when we received our pins during freshman year, and everyone's mother or father came to pin it on their blouses?" Her friend nodded, and Kat continued, "Remember how even Francisco Benitez's godfather came when his parents were stuck in Paraguay because war broke out?" The other girl nodded again. "Sister Marie Therese stood in for my parents. Do you want to know why one of the nuns had to pin me?

"Why?"

"My mother couldn't miss her last round of Botox injections, and my father had to play golf with the head of a company he was taking over," she said simply. She looked at herself in the mirror, satisfied that her red locks were tidy, and then she swiped clear lip gloss on her coral lips. "My brothers had 'an event' to attend, and my sister had vacation plans in the Caribbean. Believe me. This is not surprising to me."

-------------------------------

She felt hands reach beneath her shoulders and legs, and she knew she was moving. She felt air stirring past her cheeks, and she knew she was pressed tightly against a solid chest because she could hear the faint thump of his heart against her ear. Each step that jostled her sent a jolt of pain through her, and she whimpered, once again letting the darkness overtake her.

-------------------------------

The Titian-haired beauty's skin glowed creamy and white in the candlelight, the flames crafting shadows that danced around her fiery hair. She smiled at her companion, her boyfriend of six months, and her heart began to pick up its pace when he knelt beside her, taking her soft hand between his two rough ones.

"Kathleen McGowen," he began, his voice raspy with nerves. He cleared his throat and pushed a nervous hand through his blonde hair before he grasped her hand again. "I know we've only been dating a few months and that I'm six years older than you, but I've never known anyone like you," he admitted, his voice sincere and in awe. "You're compassionate to the rudest of people, and you find joy in every situation, even when everything is going wrong! You make me want to be a better man, for you. Will you help me be that better man? Will you marry me?"

He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a little black box, flicking it open, but the girl's eyes were on his face and not the ring. With tears glistening in her beautiful sea green eyes, she reached out and held his face in her hands, whispering, "Yes, Nelson Cawthorne, I will marry you. I love you."

"And I adore you," he replied, his voice filled with a rich timbre of happiness before their lips crashed together in a passionate caress.

Cheers erupted around them, and they pulled back a little, the girl's cheeks pink with embarrassment and Nelson's grin wide and jovial. "Next round is on me! This is the first night of the rest of my life with the woman I love by my side."

Laughter and the popping corks of champagne echoed...

-------------------------------

A scream tore from the woman's lips, and she sat up, crying out, "Nelson!" She heard nothing, and she opened her eyes to find herself surrounded by strangers.

Character Notes

MC: Kathleen McGowen

Age: 20
Hair: red
Height: 5'6"
Eyes: sea green rimmed with blue
Weight: 135 lbs
Breasts: DD cup
Complexion: Pale, slightly freckled
Background: The youngest child of America billionaire Connor McGowen and his socialite wife, Audrey Kennedy-McGowen, Kathleen grew up amid luxury and ease. She attended a prestigious boarding school in Switzerland during her teen years, and she is studying sociology at Cambridge University in England. Despite her wealth and relative easy life, Kathleen (or Kat, as she sometimes is called) is kindhearted and friendly to everyone she meets. Perhaps a result of being the "forgotten child" by her parents who were too busy grooming her two older brothers to take over the family business and pushing her super model older sister into marrying a man of "proper pedigree and fortune" to pay much attention to Kat, the child they had by accident five years after their younger son left home. Left to her own devices, she befriended the servants and their children, preferring them to her own wealthy peers.

At Cambridge, Kat met polo player Nelson Cawthorne, and an immediate romance blossomed, despite their age difference. Cawthorne, six years Kat's senior, wooed the girl and invited her on a trek through the Amazon during her spring break. Happily, she agreed, and he proposed to her at the resort hotel they had booked upon their arrival. That night, they slept side-by-side, fully clothed because of Kat's desire to remain a virgin until she married. The next day, they boarded a small plane to take them into the jungle.

 

[GeorgeoftheJungle]

The rest of the party returned from searching the wreckage. Bantu’s friend, Kuma, shook his head grimly. The message was clear; there were no other survivors from the wreckage. Then the young woman in his arms called out a strange name, a “Nelson.” Gantu looked into her eyes with concern. Although he didn’t know her language, he tried to communicate the sad reality. She was the only survivor.

He knew that she would have wanted to stay and possibly give proper mourning rites for the body of this “Nson.” But that would have to wait for another time; there were singe marks on her clothes--her burns would need treatment, and only the villages had the necessary ointments. “Kuma, Manta, stay and guard this site,” said Gantu. “The rest of us should head back. We’ll return in the morning for burial.”

Baka shook his head. “I say we leave her here and let her burn along with the fire bird,” said the chief’s son. “We don’t want to bring her demon curse to the village. Look at her skin! Her hair! What kind of creature is this? She could bring fire to the village.”

Gantu took another long look at the girl. Her face was stricken by anguish, her voice quivering in despair. If this was a demon, she certainly suffered as much heartache as any human.

“Magala is best suited to make that decision,” said Gantu. “If she is from another world, Magala will know how to send her back. But for now, remember the ways of our tribe. We help those who are not enemies. Perhaps she can bring a blessing to our tribe.”

Baka looked at the faces of the other hunters. They all seemed to agree with Gantu’s assessment of the situation. Baka huffed and went silent. He knew the power of popular opinion and chose to let the matter rest. Still, Gantu could sense that he would hear again from Baka on the matter.

***

Gantu continued to carry the young female in his arms as they wound down the trail. Despite the strangeness of her clothes and exotic nature of her hair and skin, her body felt no different than the bodies of other women he had held. Even though he hadn’t chosen a wife, he’d had enough experience with other girls to know the feel of a female in his arms. He occasionally looked down and smiled to try to reassure her. Unfortunately, he knew he couldn’t guarantee her safety. Baka would certainly try to hatch a scheme that would harm her; Baka hated losing arguments, even if a life was at stake.

After a while on the trail, the group came to a clear-running stream. He lay her down on the grass and gestured to his chest. “Gantu,” he said. Then he pointed to her, hoping she’d offer up her name in return.

He then gestured toward the stream, where the other members of the party were splashing and enjoying the cooling waters. He offered his hand, “You can wash off the dust,” he said. She clearly didn’t understand their language. What kind of demon was this?

In the late afternoon light, he suddenly realized the full beauty of this creature. He let his eyes linger on her face and body; even though much of her was clad in the strange, otherworldly garments.

Baka noticed the look and chuckled. “Already, the great Gantu falls under her spell,” he said. “Shouldn’t your loyalty be to the tribe and not some demon?”

“What do you know about loyalty?” quipped Gantu. He splashed himself with cold water, relishing the sensation of the flying drops.

 

[ScarlettFever]

A scream tore from the woman's lips, and she sat up, crying out, "Nelson!" She heard nothing, and she opened her eyes to find herself surrounded by strangers.

A vision of the cockpit filling with smoke as flames licked the exterior of the plane filled her mind. She recalled Nelson gripping her hand tightly, murmuring his love for her, of Felicité's screams and John's soothing words to his lover.

She looked up at the strange man gazing down at her, his expression gentle and kind, and she saw him shake his head, gesturing, explaining that everyone she loved was dead. But she'd already known. She'd known the moment her eyes had opened that her world had ended. She bowed her head, letting tears flow down her pale cheeks, heedless of the strangers around her. They spoke in a strange tongue, and despite her sorrow, she heard words from the Mayan tongue sprinkled into their conversation. An angry, sharp voice interrupted her thoughts, and she looked up, watching as another man pointed to her and motioned emphatically, spitting out angry words. She curled inward a little, just as the man with kind eyes glanced at her before turning back toward the angry man and spoke in a calm, authoritative voice. He then looked at the other strangers, and they all seemed to back up his words, and she relaxed slightly. Whatever had just been discussed, everyone else seemed to agree with the kind man.

--------------------------

The young woman winced as the man carried her, trying to hide her pain so that he wouldn't worry about her discomfort. She understood that he was trying to be gentle. Finally, she heard water in the distance, and they broke from the trail to find a sparkling stream. The man carefully laid her on the blanket of grass and pointed to his chest, speaking clearly, "Gantu."

She repeated the word, "Gantu," softly in her musical voice. He pointed to her, and she mimicked his action, pointing to herself and saying, "Kathl...," she paused, shaking her head and starting over, "Kat." She pointed to herself again, "Kat."

The man motioned toward the stream and held out his hand, and she nervously placed her pale hand in his darker one. His grip was firm but gentle as he escorted her to the water's edge. She sat on the flat earth beside the stream and removed her boots and socks, and she glanced at the men, noting their limited clothing and assumed there was nothing wrong with removing the outer layer of her shirt. She unbuttoned the khaki-colored shirt that matched her shorts, something she and Felicité had purchased because they thought it would be fun to dress like explorers, removing it to reveal creamy white shoulders with a light dusting of freckles on them. She still wore a camisole and bra, but her arms and upper chest were bare as she waded to her knees in the water.

She cupped her hands into the stream and washed her face, letting the refreshing water fall down her neck and chest. She scrubbed all of the skin she could reach, taking precaution around the burn marks that were visible. She wished she had a her pack of supplies because there had been a first aid kit with ointments and would cleanser. And then Kat shook her head, scolding herself for caring about such luxuries when her fiancé and best friends were dead. A sob launched itself from her throat, and she paused in her cleansing to cover her face with her hands, sobbing into them, her slender shoulders shaking as grief washed over her.

 

[GeorgeoftheJungle]

As the woman stripped off her top layer, the men in the hunting party glanced at her beautiful breasts, as well as the fine garment that held them in place. It was just another facet of the woman’s strangeness, and the men couldn’t hide their curiosity--as well as excitement. Even Baka took note, squinting as he covertly glanced at them. Her breasts were ample and creamy, bouncing gently with her every movement.

A short while later, the party got back on the trail and Gantu stood close to the girl, worried that she might stumble out of fatigue. Baka walked behind, his blowgun at the ready in case she tried to exert her magic on them.

“You will regret this, Gantu,” said Baka. “Do you think my father will approve of such an interloper in our tribe? She will curse us. And you shall be punished for it.”

At this point, Gantu ignored the chief’s son, focusing instead on their strange visitors. He wished he could learn her language, ask her about the nature of the strange bird she rode in. What was the purpose of her journey? Who were the others who perished in the fight? What realm did she come from? The spirit realm? Or another strange part of the forest.

In time, he would teach her, but for now, they would have to attend to the poor creature’s wounds. Eventually they came upon the village, a tight cluster of about 20 huts that occupied a large clearing in the forest. The villagers gathered around the hunters to see what they’d caught.

They were shocked when they laid eyes on the hunters’ companion. The women of the village -- who wore no more than small, animal-skin garments covering their private parts -- scowled and hissed, backing away at the sight of the creature. “Demon!” they intoned. Some turned away, fearful of a curse. The older men who weren’t part of the hunting party gazed in curiosity, shaking their heads at the foolishness of the group. How could Gantu be so stupid, bringing such a strange creature into their midst. Children fled, afraid of what the demon could do to them.

Malaga stepped forward his hand outstretched in a “stop” gesture. “Gantu, where did you find this being? Who is she?”

“She crashed in the belly of a strange, silver bird that bled flames. Many of her companions perished,” explained Gantu. "Some members of our party are guarding the bird."

“That was foolish, wasn’t it Malaga?” said Baka, confident in his assertion.

“She is no danger,” implored Gantu. “She is scared and injured. My heart tells me she is no demon. She is hurt--I think she has burns. Do you not have ointments to help her.”

Malaga nodded solemnly. “I have heard tales of such demons,” he said. “As well as the birds they ride in. Regardless, I must blow the truth smoke upon her, to determine her nature. Such creatures can be blessings, if we treat them correctly. Take her to my hut. Only Gantu. Baka, you tell your father so that he knows about our guest.”

Gantu gestured for her to follow him to Malaga’s hut. The old witch doctor led them into the darkness of his ample, cylinder-shaped, thatched dwelling. Beads and bones hung from strings from the ceiling. A patchwork of animal skins lay upon the floor in a makeshift carpet. In the center, a fire burned, with white smoke rising and spilling out of the hole in the center of the ceiling.

“She must strip first, so that we can treat her wounds,” said Magala.

Gantu gestured for her to remove her clothes. He sensed modesty in this creature. Surely, she was harmless--but would Magala find evil in her?

 

[ScarlettFever]

Kathleen remained quiet as the villagers stared at her, and she tried not to cower when many of them hissed and spat at her, turning their back. When the children ran away in fright, her shoulders drooped, but then everyone's attention was captured by an elderly man who walked toward them. She watched as he studied her carefully, and when he spoke to Gantu and the other men who'd found her, his voice held authority and a quiet strength. They listened to him, whatever he said, for when he moved his hand to indicate the angry warrior should go, the man obeyed.

Gantu gestured for her to follow him, and she did so, making up the caboose in their train of three, with the old man leading the way. He took them to one of the huts and led them inside, near darkness wrapping around them. The sifting sounds of beads and bones tinkled as they shifted the air around them, and Gantu motioned for her to enter further. She did so, but a sudden unease settled over her, and her heart began to pound. Although the warrior had been kind to her, she didn't know him or his customs. Her trepidation seemed founded when he motioned for her to remove her clothing.

The girl's sea green eyes widened, and she knelt, untying her boots and removing them and her socks from her feet. She stood again, wiggling her toes on the skins that lay on the floor like carpet, surprised at their softness. Next, she unbuttoned her khaki shirt again, removing it and folding it neatly, despite its dirty and tattered state. She unfastened her khaki shorts, slowly rolling them over her hips and down her legs, stepping out of them. She blushed, wearing only silky panties, a camisole, and a bra before the two men. She lowered her eyes, hesitant.

She glanced around the room again, and then she noticed herbs hanging out to dry, and various ointments and salves in vessels, and relief washed over her. This old man appeared to be the medicine man. Kat glanced down at her body, wincing at the burns and scrapes she saw marring her pale skin. Crefully, she tugged the camisole from her body and placed it with her outer garments and then she turned her back to the two men, reaching back and unfastening her bra, letting the garment fall, and her full DD breasts jiggled in relief. Steeling her nerves, she slid her gentle fingers beneath the waistband of her panties, pushing them down to reveal a firm, full bottom, and she stepped out of the panties, dropping them onto the pile of clothing. She placed one arm across her body, in front of her breasts, and the other in front of her womanhood, trying to shield her modesty as much as possible. No man except her doctor had ever seen this much of her, not even Nelson...

Her heart stuttered as she thought about the man she'd hoped to spend the rest of her life with, to grow old with, to have children and grandchildren with. A single tear slid down her cheek, and she sniffled, swallowing a lump of emotion in her throat.

 

[GeorgeoftheJungle]

Gantu and the witch doctor watched keenly as the woman shed her fragile garments. Gantu could sense her hesitancy; unlike the women in her village, she guarded her body like a precious treasure. But despite her efforts to cover up with her hands, she couldn’t hide her beauty. Her bountiful breasts, now free, bobbed in their natural state. Her milky bottom and legs were shapely but firm. He caught a brief glimpse of her womanhood before her hand covered it. The red hair between her legs --the same hue as the hair on her head -- caught the light like amber.

The strange sight excited Gantu, and he clenched his jaw to mask his excitement. He felt his cock harden in his loincloth, his breath quicken.

Malaga gently touched her arm in a reassuring manner. He took a little clay jar from one of the baskets in the hut and dipped his finger into the gooey substance. He gently spread it on her burns, the translucent elixir glinting in the dim light.

“Much better, no?” He knew that the young woman wouldn’t understand his tongue, but he hoped his reassuring tone would calm her anxiety. Gantu echoed Malaga’s tone; the warrior gave her a reassuring smile, although he couldn’t suppress his concern for her fate.

Gantu turned and peeked out of the hut, lifting the blanket that covered the door enough to see that a crowd of villagers had gathered outside. Some were curious; others angry that this interloper had been let into the village.

“What do you think we should do with her?” asked Gantu. “Surely, she has upset many people. Especially Baka--and he will try to convince the chief to order her death.”

Malaga nodded solemnly. “There are tests to determine whether or not she is a demon. That will give us some idea of what to do next.”

The old medicine man put down the jar and reached into a different basket. He procured a long, dried branch with red leaves and held it over the fire. The smouldering leaves produced a thick, white smoke and he held it under the girl’s breasts, under her buttocks, her womanhood. The smoke drifted upward, over the curves of her body.

Malaga smiled. “The smoke does not turn black. That means she is not a demon. Yes, she is indeed a strange creature, but her kind can bring us luck. She is fertile and will produce strong offspring--super warriors!

“We therefore must allow her to receive the attention of the other warriors.”

Gantu knew the meaning behind the medicine man’s artful words. She would be available for sex for all the other men. It was a trial that each fertile woman underwent until a warrior claimed her with a cut.

“Magala, she lost someone special in the crash. Surely we must give her time to mourn.”

The medicine man nodded again. “Yes. I shall propose three days to the chief. Then let us reap our blessing. Let us meet with the chief.”

Gantu nodded. The three of them departed the hut for a meeting with the chief. Only he had the power to approve Malaga’s proposal.

Gantu looked out at the crowd and saw the pretty face of Lali. She had been recommended by the village elders for a potential wife to Gantu. But the presence of this beautiful stranger seemed to change all that.

 

[ScarlettFever]

The redhead remained still when the medicine man spread a cold, goopy salve on her burns and cuts, and she shivered, unaccustomed to such touches on her fair skin. She kept her eyes averted, and when he was finished, he lit a long branch with dried, red leaves on fire and proceeded to hold it under her breasts. She gasped, fearful that he intended to burn her with it, but he merely moved it around her bottom and then around her womanhood, almost as though he warded off evil spirits.

When the medicine man spoke to the warrior, an old woman entered through a flap in the back of the hut. She picked up Kathleen's neatly folded clothing, and the young woman attempted to object, but the woman shook her head and threw it into the fire. The girl's eyes widened in horror, but then the woman handed a clean length of cloth to her and smiled, her wizened face splitting into a friendly grin. The girl nodded and shook out the garment, but she struggled to understand how to wear it. Finally, the woman took pity on her and took the cloth, wrapping it around her waist and tucking and tying it so that it fell in a long, loose skirt to her ankles. She then gave the girl sandals to wear, and Kathleen slipped them on her feet. She waited, staring at the woman, assuming something to cover her breast would be given next, but the woman pointed to the men who were walking out the front flap, intimating she should follow. The girl swallowed, heat covering her cheeks as she scurried after the men, and she tugged her long hair to cover her breasts as best she could, placing her arms in front of her torso as a shield and stepped out of the hut.

A crowd had gathered outside the hut, and shame covered the girl as she walked, nearly naked, though them. She noted that other females wore similar garments to hers, but they seemed unperturbed that their breasts bounced freely. She heard angry words hurled, and she noticed curious glances thrown about, but she also noticed several of the men eyeing her hungrily. She moved faster to catch up with the kind warrior and prayed that he would continue to protect her.

------------------------------

Lali waited with the rest of the village outside of the shaman's hut. She'd seen the hunting party escort the Red Demon into the village and had watched as the medicine man met them and escorted her to his hut. The young woman bit her lip, nervous about the creature and the danger it could rain down on their village.

The most beautiful young woman in the village, Lali had long, black hair that felt to her waist, a broad forehead, flat nose, and wide, dark brown eyes. She wore a simple skirt today, and Macaw feathers dangled from her ears. She had a trim waist and breasts that Gantu once told her were the perfect size--just right to palm or a perfect mouthful. She smiled at the memory of their last mating. She'd stopped welcoming other men into her hut since Gantu had begun visiting her. She knew that the elders were encouraging him to give her his mating mark, sealing their relationship and making it permanent, and she couldn't wait for that day to come.

When the flap of the hut opened, the crowd surged, everyone eyeing the medicine man and Gantu as they exited. The Red Demon followed after, and this time she wore the native skirt of Lali's people, and her long, red hair covered her breasts. The beast had her hands raised, and Lali gasped, taking a step back lest the creature curse her.

Angry shouts and spittle from tribe members flew at the Red Demon, and but Lali saw several warriors cast lecherous glances at the creature. A sudden dread filled her, but she squashed it down when her eyes met Gantu's, and she smiled at him.

 

[GeorgeoftheJungle]

Gantu caught Lali’s eye and offered a faint smile. He could tell that the girl was stunned by the events that had recently unfolded; she would need an explanation for this to make sense.

He approached her and looked deep into her eyes, his hand on her shoulder. “Lali, this girl is no demon. She needs our protection -- don’t join the others who spit on her. The redheaded one will be good for the tribe, you’ll see. We will discuss this later.”

He turned to walk away, wondering if his words assuaged her concern. He then turned his attention to the one called “Kathleen,” who walked through the village in such a downcast manner. Gantu felt sympathy. How could she endure such scorn? He would try to help her adapt to the ways of his people, learning their language and customs.

The shaman, Kathleen and Gantu entered the central clearing of the village, the place where the community met to share news and hear from their leadership. Manaka, the great chief, stood solemnly in the center, his wrinkled face a mask of menace directed toward the white girl. His gnarled hand tightly gripped his tall ruling staff, adorned in colorful feathers and wrapped in animal skin. At his side, stood his son, Baka, who looked scornfully at the “demon” as well as at Gantu.

By now, the entire village gathered a circle around the chief, eager to hear his ruling on the fate of the redheaded one. A hush fell over the crowd as he spoke.

“Explain what this creature is doing in our midst!” Manaka thundered, his dark eyes shooting daggers at Gantu.

Gantu stood tall, holding his powerful frame in a straight posture. “During our hunt, we came across a great bird that had fallen from the sky. It bled fire and all of the humans in its belly perished in the flames. Except for this one. We brought her back here to help with injuries. She doesn’t speak our tongue.”

“She’s a demon!” yelled Baka. “Gantu endangers us all by befriending such a treacherous creature. Burn her alive!”

Many in the crowd cheered at Baka’s denunciation.

“No!” said Malaga. “She is human, just like us. I gave her the smoke test, and she passed. She comes from a distant land--a land where, I believe, people hold great wisdom and power. She can only help our tribe. I propose we allow her three days to mourn her companions who perished. Then we put this around her neck.”

He held up the necklace of red pebbles. Cries of protest erupted from the crowd. The smooth red river stones tied tightly around the neck of a girl meant one thing: She would be available to all of the eligible men of the village.

The chief looked at the white-skinned girl with squinted eyes, studying her for signs of magic and mischief. Malaga had proven to be a trusty witch doctor, and he rarely contradicted him. Still, Manaka had some reservations.

“This is my ruling,” Manaka said in a booming voice. “The white girl stays. But let her mourning period be only one day -- she must learn that our people do not indulge in grief. We are a people who value life above else.”

Many in the crowd protested, while several of the young men cast hungry stares at the shy stranger. Malaga reached into his bag and pulled out a jar; he dipped his fingers in it and painted her with the mourning mark--a black line that ran horizontally across her cheeks and nose.

Gantu gave her a reassuring look; the next days would be challenging for her, but she could be part of the tribe. The thought excited Gantu in a strange way, and he couldn’t stop looking at her face.

***

Baka felt stunned. How could the tribe’s leader publicly contradict his own son? He seethed with anger, thoughts of revenge clamoring in his brain. It didn’t take long for him to formulate a plan to get back at Gantu for turning the tribe’s world upside down. He noticed that Gantu was distracted by the young demon’s beauty; this gave Baka an opportunity to strike.

He sought out Lali from the crowd and firmly clasped her with his hand. Even though the girl had rejected him in the past, he saw a way to win her favor--and torment Gantu in the process.

“Lali, we must talk,” he said, mustering his most earnest and persuasive tone. “I fear that Gantu is under the spell of the demon. Wouldn’t you agree.? You saw the way he looked at her. Sadly, my father clearly is fooled by the whole thing.

“So we must work together to prevent the destruction of the village. We must meet in private. Please, come to my hut. This must be distressing to you. Let me offer my friendship.” He motioned toward her hut at the edge of the village, secretly glancing at her pert tits.

 

[ScarlettFever]

Lali's smile widened when her handsome warrior returned her smile. He approached her and gazed into her eyes, his hand on her shoulder, and she trembled. Instead of offering words of affection or inviting her to his hut tonight, he spoke about the Red Demon.

"Lali, this girl is no demon," he said, his voice concerned. "She needs our protection--don't join the others who spit on her. The redheaded one will be good for the tribe; you'll see. We will discuss this later."

The timbre in his voice at the use of the word later warmed her, and she nodded in agreement before he returned to walk with the shaman and the Red Demon.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Kathleen paused when the warrior left their trio, and she watched him with curiosity and nervousness. Surely he was not abandoning her! He moved toward a beautiful village girl with dark brown hair and eyes and a perfect complexion. The woman looked up at him with longing, and the warrior--Gantu--smiled down at her with affection. A lump formed in Kat's throat as memories of Nelson resurfaced, and tears threatened to overflow. Within moments, Gantu returned, and they continued walking, her shoulders slumped, head bowed, and sorrow mingled with fear in her visage.

Eventually, they reached a clearing in the village, and an imposing man stood before them. He wore elaborate clothing and ornaments, and as everyone looked at him reverently, she assumed he was the chief. The man was old, but he obviously ruled with an iron fist, and he gripped his staff and tapped it into the earth. Beside him stood the angry warrior who didn't like her, and Kathleen swallowed, unconsciously swaying a bit toward Gantu.

The chief yelled, anger radiating from him, and the girl's eyes widened, fearful of the man's fierce expression directed toward Gantu The warrior, however, did not cower, holding his muscular body firm and straight. He spoke clearly and surely, motioning with his hands, and she knew he described the plane and the crash, and then he pointed toward her, motioning to his mouth, and she realized his motions were meant to help her her understand. Grateful, she again leaned toward the man again.

However, young warrior beside the chief obviously disagreed and began yelling, gesturing and gearing until many in the crowd were glaring at her and spurring the man on. Fear clutched her heart, and then the medicine man spoke, and all became silent. As he spoke, Kat looked at the people around them from below lowered lashes. They listened intently, and some relaxed at the man's words, but then she heard an audible gasp from everyone in the crowd, and she turned to see the shaman holding up a necklace made up of small, red stones.

Angry cries erupted, and she shrunk into herself, fearful that the angry mob would seize her and kill her. She didn't understand why they hated her so much, but their anger over her was obvious. The chief spoke again, looking at her for a moment, and people began to argue with him, yelling. However, it was no longer those people whom she feared. No, it was a new group--a group made up of men--who cast hungry stares at her. Her heart began to pound, and she felt suddenly dizzy.

Suddenly, she felt the medicine man's fingers on her face, and she knew that he had anointed or painted her with a horizontal line across her cheeks and nose. She wondered at its meaning, but she had no way of knowing. However, Gantu smiled kindly at her, and somehow, she knew all would be well.

 

[GeorgeoftheJungle]

With the black stripe across the girls face, Ganthu knew she was safe for the time being. She would be escorted to a hut and comforted by the tribe's women folk. Water and food would be offered to her, and other members of the tribe would sit with her and join her in lamentations about her loss.

At the same time Ganthu heard the excited murmuring of the men. For many, the prospect of having sex with a strange outlander was exciting. Still, others clung to the belief that she was indeed a demon, and she had somehow cast a spell on the once-wise medicine man.

Still, Ganthu had one priority now. He would have to seek out Lali and assure her that this newcomer posed no danger to the tribe. He would also have to organize funeral parties to make sure that the spirits of the dead in the jungle did not wander aimlessly in eternal limbo.

Ganthu walked toward the cluster of huts, seeking Lali. He called her name. Then Moloa, a woman who was one of the tribe's most notorious gossips, tapped his shoulder.

"I think you will find Lali in the hut of Baka," she said with a smirk.

***

Baka decided that the time was right. With all the turmoil in the tribe, no one would be in their huts, and no one would hear anything. So he lunged at the pretty girl, pressing his lips against hers with force. How could she refuse him? He was the son of the chief. After all, he had forced himself on others before. He could get away with it with no consequences. He shoved his tongue into her mouth, his roaming hand cupping one of her breasts.

At that moment, Ganthu pulled back the animal skin that covered the door. He saw Baka pressing his lips against her and his eyes burned with rage. He glared at Lali. "How could you betray me?" He seethed. "And with this weakling!"

He pointed a finger at Baka, whose eyes lit up in fear. "I will deal with you later. But I have something I must do now." He strode off, anger coursing through his veins.

***

By now, the mating preparation was well under way. This was the test that determined the pecking order in which the men could lay with the now-eligible girl.

The test was simple. An x was painted on the side of a broad tree. The warriors stood a fair distance away and, one by one, hurled spears at the target. The one whose spear landed closest to the x would get the first opportunity with the virgin.

By the time Ganthu arrived, and all warriors had thrown spears, and all had missed the x--somehad even missed the tree altogether. Ganthu, still intoxicated with rage at Lali's betrayal, grabbed a spear from the hands of a younger warrior and threw it at the target. The stone tip of the projectile landed with a thud right at the center of the x. The warriors looked on at astonishment, amazed at his skill with a spear as well as his apparent betrayal of Lali.

The chief, who oversaw the competition, made the pronouncement: "Ganthu shall bed the virgin first when she comes out of mourning."

Ganthu's mind reeled at the realization of what he had just done. He knew now his life had taken a different course, and he was about to embark on strange new terrain.

 

[ScarlettFever]

The redhead entered the hut, but Gantu and the shaman did not. Inside were the shaman's wife and other village women who descended upon her as soon as she stepped inside. They spoke in their foreign tongue, but the sounds were gentle and soothing as they led her to a pillow. She sat when they motioned her to, and soon, they brought a wooden bowl filled with steaming broth. She inhaled deeply, enjoying the aroma, and accepted it. They did not offer a spoon, so she glanced around in confusion. The women motioned that she should lift the bowl to her lips and drink. Nodding, she did so, and she sighed when the nourishing broth slid down her throat. It was delicious. She smiled at the women and nodded, and then she took another sip. An old woman cackled in glee and clapped her hands, and then two others brought out an assortment of meats, fruits, and beans with flat bread rather like a tortilla.

After she'd eaten her fill, the women guided her to a pile of soft furs, and she leaned back. Another covered her with a fur, and she began to relax while the women sang softly as one strummed a stringed instrument. Somewhere in the back of the hut, the shaman's wife burned incense, and memories of her fiancé and friend began to dance about her. Soft tears traveled down her cheeks, and she buried her face in the furs, letting her grief overtake her. She wept for Felicité. She wept for Nelson and the life they had so badly wanted together. She wept for her future in a friendless and loveless world. She wept for the family that she had but who didn't want her. And when her tears dried up, she slept.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Lali was lost in happy thoughts as she watched Gantu escort the Red Demon and the shaman to the mourning hut. Excitement coursed through her; tonight might be the night that the warrior gave her his mark. Just as she was about to return to her own hut to begin making preparations, she felt a strong hand grip her arm.

"Lali, we must talk," she heard a familiar voice murmur in her ear. She turned her head upward and saw Baka, the chief's son one of the many men who had pursued her since she became of bedding age. He'd been the one to take her virginity three years ago, in a painful, brutal experience beside the washing river. She'd been bathing in its warm waters when she heard a splash behind her. She'd turned to look, the water kissing the bottoms of her breasts, and there Baka was, his eyes filled with lust. He was a handsome man, quite sought after among the village girls, so when he asked to bed her, she'd agreed. Baka was a selfish lover, taking every pleasure but not giving any. She hadn't enjoyed the experience,

After her first sexual experience, Lali had become a favorite among the village men. Her hut had a visitor every night, but the night that changed the course for her was when Gantu had shown up. The warrior was generous during sex, and she'd orgasmed for the first time. The next day, he returned, and she knew that she wanted him to mark her, to make her his wife. So, the young woman turned the others away from her hut when they arrived, although their tribal customs did not require that she do so unless she were marked, but she wanted Gantu to know that she had already decided on him.

“I fear that Gantu is under the spell of the demon. Wouldn’t you agree.?" Lali gasped, sudden fear gripping her heart as she turned her head back to the man she desired and watched as he gently escorted the Red Demon to the mourning hut. "You saw the way he looked at her. Sadly, my father clearly is fooled by the whole thing."

Could Baka be right? Had the Red Demon ensnared Gantu in a spell that would take him away from her?

“So we must work together to prevent the destruction of the village," Baka continued. "We must meet in private. Please, come to my hut. This must be distressing to you. Let me offer my friendship.”

Without consciously agreeing, Lali allowed Baka to lead her toward his hut at the edge of the village. She'd never been inside, for he had always bedded her in the jungle or in her hut, so she curiously peered around the small space before turning to face the man.

"Baka, do you really think the Red Demon has bewitched Gantu?" she asked, her visage clouded with worry. "He is an honorable warrior and would never betray our...understanding...willingly."

Instead of answering her, Baka lunged toward her, gripping her tightly around the waist and pulling her body against his. She captured her lips with his, ravaging them, his tongue thrusting into her mouth as ruthlessly as he'd once plunged his cock into her folds. His free hand grabbed at breasts, groping and tugging the fleshy globes. Disgust roiled through her body, and she struggled to pull away, but he only gripped her tighter, pressed his body more firmly against hers, and then she heard a voice that brought both joy and crashing horror down upon her.

"How could you betray me?" seethed Gantu, and finally Baka released his grip on her. She gasped, falling back, her body twisting to go to Gantu, to explain, but he glared at her and spat out, "And with this weakling!"

"No...Gantu, no!" she gasped out, trying to catch her breath, but he was focused on the man who had accosted her, his finger pointed at the man.

Eyes flashing anger, Gantu growled at Baka, "I will deal with you later. But I have something I must do now."

"No, Gantu, don't go!" Lali cried, going to follow him out of the hut, but Baka moved and blocked her way. True fury welled within her small frame, and she reached out and slapped the man's face as hard as she could, his head jerking back at the impact. "You...you...how dare you!" she cried, pushing past him and running after the warrior she wanted, her eyes filled with tears.

She pursued Gantu through the village and the edge of the jungle until they arrived at the ceremonial place, and she saw the muscular man throw a spear with perfect strength and precision directly into the center of an X painted on a tree.

"Ghantu shall bed the virgin first when she comes out of mourning," rang the chief's voice, its booming words loud and painful as they sunk into Lali's heart.

"Nooooo!" she cried out, running to Gantu, her tear-streaked face filled with hurt and sorrow. She grabbed the warrior's arm, her voice cracking as she said, "I did not betray you, Gantu. I swear I did not. Baka tricked me. I have bedded no other since you first came to my hut. I...I...," she swallowed, a sudden chill wrapping around her. "I wanted you to mark me, Gantu, and I thought you wanted that, too, but now...," she paused looking at his spear still pointing perfectly out of the center of the X on the tree. Her dark brown eyes filled with tears again, and she looked up into the warrior's face, "Please don't bed the Red Demon, Gantu."