Posted by Sawney Beane on May 10, 2006 at 01:42:17:
The Collected Works of Sawney Beane: Volume #17
A JUNGLE SAFARI
by Sawney Beane
21 November 1994
3,352 words
DISTRIBUTION NOTICE and DISCLAIMER: Sawney Beane requests that any distribution of this work of fiction remain within the realm of social responsibility. This story is suitable neither for minors nor for the seeming majority of adults who have difficulty distinguishing fantasy from reality. It is pure fantasy, which means that, for whatever reason, someone has found it interesting to think about the events depicted herein. It does not in any way mean that the author would like to see this fantasy become reality, so if you are the type of person who might be swayed into doing something irrational by reading a work of fiction, the author respectfully requests that you decline to read further.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Sawney Beane, originally a native of Edinburgh, lived for twenty-five years in a cave on the coast of County Galloway, subsisting on the flesh of unfortunate travellers, roughly a thousand of them all told. He and his wife raised a large family of eight sons, six daughters, eighteen grandsons, and fourteen granddaughters. Eventually, the family was captured, and the whole lot was brutally and unjustifiably tortured and executed without trial. Since his death in the early 17th century, Beane has reformed his ways and now confines his atrocities to his literary endeavours.
WARNING: This story contains scenes of non-consensual snuff and gynophagia. If you find such things offensive, please steer clear; you have been warned.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: This is my second attempt at explaining the events leading up to the situation depicted in a Dolcett drawing (The first is SB010). In this case it was a picture called DOLCET03. I wrote this story in a fairly humorous vein, and I hope that it is successful in conveying that mood, dark as the end result may be.
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Sir Reginald, Jane's fiancée, and his guide Jasper did not seem to hear her shocked screams as, unwisely leaning out of the safari boat to examine an unusual fruit on an overhanging branch, she plummeted into the river's fast-moving current. The boat, moving upriver, rapidly receded out of sight as Jane struggled to keep her head above the waves. After failing to catch several passing logs, Jane noticed a object that looked disturbingly like a crocodile. Trying to escape the approaching reptile and simultaneously reaching for the fleeting shore, Jane hit her head on something and drifted out of consciousness for what she assumed would be the last time.
But she awoke with a start. She was staring up at the sun's faint penetration of the jungle canopy. Lying on her back on what felt like wet sand or coarse mud, Jane became aware of a hand caressing her shoulder-length blonde hair. Then, as if her ears had suddenly been activated, she began to hear the speech of the aborigines. There were three of them. The tallest sat beside her and rubbed her head, which throbbed painfully. The other two were much shorter and stood a considerable distance away. All three wore grass skirts, face paint, and an impressive array of metal and leather necklaces and armbands. All three were quite bald.
The excited speech of the natives stopped abruptly as they noticed that she was awake. Jane dragged herself painfully to her feet and surveyed the tattered remains of her khaki clothing. The two shorter natives looked upon her with a bit of wonder and a touch of pride that begged for praise of their having saved her. The taller one, still several inches shorter than Jane, stood beside her with a proprietary grin on his face.
"Who are you?" Jane asked them in the slow loud tone that Americans seem to believe makes their language comprehensible to those who do not speak English.
The two short natives grunted appreciatively at her question and babbled in their native tongue until the tall one raised a hand to demand their silence. Jane shifted her weight from one sore leg to the other uneasily.
"My name is Zuni Moore. The fatter gentleman is Hoota and the ugly one is Lungle," said the tall native in perfect English with a distinct upper class British accent.
Jane was astonished at his speech and confused about which of the two identical little men had been deemed ugly and which had been deemed fatter. "You speak English?"
"I'm an Oxford man," Zuni replied proudly, "and what might your name be, blue-eyed one?"
"Uh, Jane Lafferty from Atlanta."
"Well, Jane Lafferty, I am pleased to take you as my wife!" replied Zuni with the broadest smile she had ever seen.
"Wife?" Jane replied feebly.
"Yes, my brothers Hoota and Lungle and I saved you from certain death, so, as the eldest unwed brother, I am entitled to claim you as my own. The wedding will be tonight, OK?"
"Uh, sorry, I'm already engaged."
"I didn't see your fiancée pulling you out of the water. According to our traditions, his claim on you died as you surely would have had we not come along."
"That's not the way we do it where I'm from."
"We're not where you're from. We're here, and that's the way it's done here. You'll just have to break your engagement."
Zuni's brother had noticed Jane's sudden lack of joy at the good news and fired excited questions at their elder sibling. Zuni threw them a cross word, and their eyes widened.
"What did they say?"
"They're thinking about what we have to do if you refuse my proposal."
"What's that?" asked Jane with noticeable worry.
"I'm not allowed to tell you until you are sure you refuse. Suffice it to say, you won't like it much. I advise you to marry me. I'll be chief of the tribe in a few years, and you could be very happy as my queen. You'd learn the language in a few weeks; it's really a snap." Zuni seemed to be pleading with her.
"I really can't betray my fiancée," she replied apologetically.
Zuni sighed. "OK, this is your last chance: will you accept my marriage proposal?"
"No, I'm sorry," she almost whispered, "I really appreciate you saving me and everything, but I really can't."
Zuni sighed a long sigh and spoke a single mournful word to his brother. The others' eyes widened further, and they walked up to Jane and began touching the skin of her abdomen and legs through the gaping holes in her clothing. One of them, Hoota perhaps, said something that seemed to be intended to reassure Zuni. The other nodded in hearty agreement, but Zuni merely sighed.
Jane tried to escape the small prodding hands that were approaching her genitals and buttocks too closely for her comfort, but moving away from one of them only brought her closer to the other. "What did he say?" Jane asked with obvious anxiety.
Zuni noticed her vain attempts to escape the exploring hands and spoke a sharp word that caused them to desist and back away from her. Then he answered her question. "He said that at least you had good meat on you," Zuni said softly.
"Meat?" Jane swallowed with a suddenly dry throat. Perhaps she should have guessed, but they had seemed much too nice for that sort of thing.
"Yeah, I told you that you wouldn't like the alternative."
"Meat?" she asked again with a glance at the broad grins on the faces of the two shorter natives.
"Yes," Zuni replied patiently, "There will be a banquet tonight to celebrate us saving you from certain death. If you choose not to be married at that banquet, you must be the main course."
"I changed my mind."
"Sorry, you already chose."
"That's not fair."
Zuni shrugged sadly, "I didn't make the rules."
"Can't we bend them?" Jane replied in nearly a frantic scream.
"Wouldn't look good," Zuni sighed. "They already tease me about my foreign education. I can't be selling out the interests of the tribe for the sake of an American girl or I'll be thrown out! I tried to help you choose properly."
"But..." tears streamed down Jane's face.
"It's not so bad," Zuni offered although his face said otherwise, "you were effectively dead an hour ago. This is borrowed time for you anyway, and it won't hurt at all, I promise."
Jane could say nothing. Nor could she resist more than feebly as the two short aborigines gently ripped the remains of her clothing from her body at a weak signal from Zuni.
Naked and dirty, Jane stood disconsolately and did not try to conceal her body from the three natives. Matters of greater importance pushed modesty out of her mind. The two short natives jumped up and down and smacked their lips. Zuni sighed and muttered quietly in English, "such a waste."
Hoota and Lungle set to work dragging her into the nearby river and scrubbing her entire body with soft sponge-like leaves. She emerged considerably cleaner and would have been quite refreshed in less oppressive circumstances. The two short natives led Jane a considerable distance into the Jungle with Zuni trailing behind in a sort of brooding depression.
The party arrived shortly at a small clearing. The ashes from a fire occupied the area near two small trees. Small grass huts were visible nearby. Jane surmised that they were just outside of the natives' home village. Hoota and Lungle pushed her to the ground next to a tree and produced from somewhere several sturdy vines. Jane's waist and neck were tied securely to the tree, and her ankles were bound together with a foot-long length of vine between them. Surprisingly, her arms were left free, but she had little chance of untying the strangely knotted ropes. Zuni sent his brothers off with a lengthy set of directions and sat down beside Jane.
Jane tried to convince herself that Sir Reginald would rescue her eventually, but she was beginning to get a bit nervous about her prospects. Even in her state of complete undress, the humid heat of the jungle made her uncomfortable. The grass between her toes should have been pleasant, but the coarse blades of the jungle grass cut her like tiny knives, and she felt something she dared not glance at crawling over her genitals. Zuni absently caressed her breasts and thighs while moaning mournfully to himself.
"You would have made a wonderful queen," he moaned. "I wish you'd taken my advice."
Jane did not know what to say but was saved from the necessity of a reply by the return of Zuni's jubilant brothers. The excited pair carried bags full of carrots, potatoes, and onions as well as cutting boards and nasty-looking knives. They dropped their loads a few feet in front of Jane and scurried off as Zuni barked directions.
The Oxford-educated aborigine placed one of the cutting boards on Jane's lap and asked her politely to help him slice the vegetables. Then he placed a pile of potatoes next to her and handed her a knife. Jane was so shocked at the request and the trust placed in her that she almost unthinkingly began to slice the potatoes. Zuni leaned against the other tree and began to rapidly cut the large carrots into thick discs.
Jane suddenly realized what she was doing after finishing with the fifth potato and blinked in dismay. In anger she launched the knife in Zuni's direction. The blade pinned his ear to the trunk of the tree. Zuni cried out in pain and genuine surprise. He stood up after pulling the knife from the tree and his bleeding ear.
"Ms. Lafferty!" he yelped indignantly. "I thought our relationship was stronger than that!"
"Excuse me?" she replied. "You ask me to slice vegetables for my own stew and expect me not to be bothered?"
Zuni frowned in guilty defiance. "After I've done so much for you! I didn't have to ask you to marry me, you know. Most of the time we just cook intruders without giving them any choice, but I liked you so I exercised my option to marry instead."
"Maybe you should have explained the options before you forced me to choose."
"Sorry, but that's not allowed. The elders don't want you agreeing to marriage just to avoid being eaten. You can see how that would cause problems. Besides, I begged you to choose marriage and told you you'd like the alternative less. It shouldn't have been that difficult to guess!"
"My mistake," Jane spat derisively.
Zuni rubbed his damaged ear. "After all, I did save your life, so your life belongs to me. If you won't be my wife, it's fully within my rights to present you to the tribe at banquet."
"I wish you had let me drown!"
"Anyway, if you were really clever, you would have used the knife to cut yourself free rather than trying to hurt me. Even if I'd been killed, my brothers would have taken care of your preparation."
Jane winced at the realization that he was entirely right, despite the fact that her chances of getting away would have been quite slim. Zuni's brothers returned dragging an enormous black kettle of the type Jane had previously seen only in Bugs Bunny cartoons. Other villagers appeared and stacked firewood onto the ashes from a previous fire. Hoota and Lungle slid the kettle onto the pile.
Zuni took one of the logs and slid it behind Jane's back, just above the vine that secured her waist to the tree. "I'm really sorry you force me to do this," he said as he tied her wrists together behind her. With her arms looped around the tree, and the piece of firewood digging into her arms, Jane's back was arched uncomfortably and her breasts stuck out vulnerably. She began to regret throwing that knife.
Zuni assigned the vegetable cutting to a trio of natives and set about lighting a fire beneath the kettle. Meanwhile, a large group of natives led by Hoota and Lungle endeavoured to fill the kettle with water, one small bucket at a time.
Jane heard the fire crackle to life behind her. Things were looking desperate now. The vegetable cutters chattered between themselves and periodically gazed hungrily in her direction. She stared back with a defiance that soon melted into self-pity.
When the kettle was nearly full, Hoota and Lungle approached Zuni with serious expressions and began a quiet discussion. Zuni nodded solemnly, and the smaller brothers looked at Jane and licked their lips as they scurried away.
"What did they want?" asked Jane.
Zuni seemed distracted, "They just asked me if they could have your breasts for their dinner."
"Oh." Jane was sorry she'd asked.
Some time later, the kettle was approaching a boil, and large piles of vegetables waited nearby. A small woman, the first female Jane had seen since the jungle safari had begun, approached. She was dressed exactly as were the male aborigines. Her dark breasts dangled free, and long dark hair concealed her back. The native woman carried a bucket filled with a foul-smelling fluid in one hand and a brush in the other. She smiled mirthfully at Jane and said something unintelligible to her.
Jane asked Zuni for a translation.
"She says that you chose wisely because I snore," the tall native sighed. "Jane, please meet my future wife, Mannapathi."
"I thought you wanted to marry me."
"Yes, of course, but I still would have had to marry her. You would have been queen, and she would have been my concubine. Now she gets to be queen, so you can imagine how happy she is that you chose to be eaten."
"I didn't choose to be eaten!"
"It's the same thing."
The future queen took her tools and brushed the foul smelling liquid over all the accessible parts of Jane's body. It caused Jane's skin to tingle slightly, and the smell almost overpowered her.
"What is that?"
Zuni replied eagerly. "It's a special tree sap that deadens the nerve endings. It should keep you from feeling pain in any area covered with it. I did promise that your death wouldn't be painful."
"Yes, you did," Jane gasped, "but I guess you didn't say it wouldn't smell awful."
Zuni smiled faintly and untied her from the tree. He helped her to stand on her stiff legs and brushed the insects from her buttocks and genitals. Mannapathi immediately coated the rest of Jane's skin with the sap, which evaporated quickly and left only the tingle to tell where it had been.
Jane began to feel a bit dreamy and sluggish. Her wrists were no longer bound, but her ankles were still connected by a foot-long vine. Running away was not an option since she could take only small steps and because the anaesthetic inhibited her mind and muscles. She employed the only other option she could think of.
"Zuni, please don't do this!" she pleaded. "I'll be your queen, and I'll love you forever. I know you want that. Please, please, please." She fell to her knees and hugged his waist. Mannapathi looked on with disdain.
Zuni pulled Jane to her feet and hugged her. She couldn't feel his warm chest pressing against her bare breasts. As he kissed her passionately, Jane began to think she might have convinced him. Even Mannapathi looked worried.
As he disengaged his lips, Zuni spoke softly and slowly. "Jane, you are a beautiful woman, and I want you to be my queen. I would do anything to save you from this awful fate, but I am powerless. My tribe depends upon me for its very survival. If I break the rules for you, my love, I will be unable to rule, and far more than we two will suffer. It must be done. I only wish I could keep you from hating me for this."
Jane was touched by his sincere speech, but this could not overpower her terror and disappointment. Mannapathi smiled again as she saw Jane's frightened face pull away from the future chieftain.
Jane thought her knees would give out, but Zuni lifted her into his arms. He noted that her feet were quite dirty but decided that it would not be worthwhile to clean them.
Zuni spoke mournfully and softly, "It's time now, love."
Jane was only aware of Zuni now. The many male onlookers and Mannapathi ceased to exist for her. She looked deep into his eyes and emitted one last desperate, "please, no!"
Zuni smiled in sad reassurance but did not answer her plea. Jane felt nothing as Zuni slid her into the boiling water. As she came to rest on the bottom of the kettle, the water covered her to her neck. The anaesthetic was working well. The only pain she felt was a burning in her throat and lungs as she breathed the hot air. Her awareness was foggy, but she became aware of Mannapathi tossing the vegetables into the water with her. The vengeful future queen was making sure to pelt Jane's face with many of the potatoes, carrots, and onions, but the victim of her abuse barely noticed.
Meanwhile, Sir Reginald and his guide Jasper were anchoring their boat on the shore after a long search had led to the discovery of a pile of tattered khaki clothing. Leaping from the boat, Sir Reginald shouted, "I say! Jane's been here. She's probably been captured by cannibals!"
Jasper was calmer, but followed his master's leisurely march into the jungle.
Jane knew that she was very near death. She noticed Zuni mourning nearby. Mannapathi and the others danced further off. She began to imagine her English fiancée entering the clearing with his guide. She thought she heard two gunshots. And the voice of her imagined fiancée shouted, "Jane! My love! We've saved you!" Then all went black.
Jasper leaned over the bodies of a Oxford-educated aborigine and his queen. "Good shooting, sir!"
"Thank you, Jasper. Won't you see about Jane, then?"
The guide reached the kettle and looked upon the smiling dead face of the American girl. He sighed and reported back to his master. "I'm afraid we're too late, sir. She's passed on."
Sir Reginald frowned peevishly, "Damn, her parents are going to be angry. They begged me not to take her out into this jungle."
"Quite."
The aboriginal tribe gathered around in a big circle. They cowered in obvious fear of the English guns.
"Well, what are we to do now?" asked Sir Reginald to no one in particular.
"I'm afraid I don't know."
"What of Jane? How're we going to get her back to America?"
Jasper whispered something to his master, "Well, we could solve that problem easily. It's a bit of a shame to waste her after all, and I'm sure the meat is quite tasty."
Sir Reginald started indignantly, "Jasper! I'm shocked you would mention such a thing! We British don't go around munching on American girls, except under very desperate situations!"
"Like this one?"
Sir Reginald looked thoughtful and replied, "Hm. Yes, I am feeling a bit peckish. Missed lunch while we were looking for the blasted girl, don't you know."
"OK, it's settled then." Jasper approached Hoota and spoke in the native's language. After eloquently brushing aside the latter's concern over his dead brother and sister-in-law to be, Jasper convinced the aborigine to invite the two Englishmen to join the tribe for the banquet. Everyone became more relaxed and resumed dinner preparations.
That evening, after a delicious dinner, Sir Reginald thanked his hosts by means of his translator for a lovely meal. The natives responded graciously as they picked the last bits of meat from the bones on their plates.
Departing for their boat with Jasper at his side and his former fiancée's skull under his arm, Sir Reginald stated enthusiastically, "Yes, Jasper, fabulous meal. Shame about Jane, though. Ah, I always have had something of a fondness for American food!"