How to Tame Your Tikbalang Ch. 08

I had enough time to hammer out Chapter 8, so here it is. I will probably be working on the next chapter of Isle of Lays, since I have neglected that story, too.

Enjoy!

*****

Somewhere around the second day of the Buhawi-Tala island sexathon, the two were exploring the best coital positions for water-play in the hot spring when the ground began to seriously shake. Water was sloshing over the shores of the spring while Buhawi was drilling hard into a writhing Tala underwater in a game of hold-your-breath.

Some things, even the primal sort of thing like a temblor, do take time to register when the people caught in it are blinded by a haze of intense sexual pleasure. They definitely noticed it when the hot spring got too hot for comfort.

"Wow, is that me or is the earth really shaking?" Buhawi's head broke the surface at the deep end of the hot spring a smidgen of a second before Tala's did. They'd been kissing deeply (yes, pun intended) when they felt the water slosh them about like so many ice cubes being shaken in a drunk's scotch glass. So Buhawi had swum, one-armed and with powerful scissoring kicks, to the surface with Tala in his other arm and still impaled on his still-erect shaft. "That was some kiss. We should do this more often, screw underwater and kiss like fiends."

"I think we need to get out of the water, Buhawi." Tala was not amused and, if her squirming to disengage herself from him was any indication, she'd lost the mood for hot spring sex. "We seriously need to get out of here because I think the water is getting too hot really fast."

Tikbalang and Baylan swam to the closest edge of the pool, a rim of natural granite to the left of the waterfall feeding the spring, and hauled themselves out quickly, just as the water began to simmer.

Getting away from the hot spring coming to the boil was no easy task with the ground shaking and their wet feet slipping on the gray stone, but they finally managed to get to the sand surrounding the pool and stagger to the beach, where the waves were slapping madly to shore in rather high, overlapping whitecaps.

The large waves washed up over the jetty, slamming the speedboat against the old tires wrapped around the mooring post it was tied to, then ebbing out so far from the wet sand that the boulders and coral that normally laid underwater even at low tide were exposed to the air.

"Talk about coitus interruptus," Buhawi spat out as he and Tala were thrown slap-bang against the sand, he face up and she on her side. "The timing of this trial sucks major eggs."

"Trial? I thought that was over with last night's storm," Tala said, as she tried to keep her heart rate just this side of 'panic most lethal' and hold off the urge to hyperventilate. "We aren't at the third hair yet, right?"

"Yes, but every damn time we try to screw each other silly the way we should for this to work, something elemental happens," Buhawi said, much less agitated, it seems, than Tala. "It's a damn big turn-on if you ask me," he added, looking down at his turgid penis and back up at Tala with a smile and his dimples out.

She stood up, legs apart and arms akimbo, and glared at the Tikbalang. "Will you be serious for one effing minute and talk sense to me? This kind of phenomena can't be normal, can it? That storm last night, the school of huge great white sharks in a feeding frenzy and body-surfing past us at breakfast while you were playing footsie with my, uhm, well, my... and now this..."

A wet, loud whooshing boom from the direction of the hot spring stopped Tala's words in their tracks and she turned around slowly, her eyes big as dinner plates and her mouth hanging open as she beheld the "geyser in your hot spring..." shooting a thick, boiling column of water almost six meters into the air, her voice barely a squeak, then fainted.

"Haynaku." Buhawi let his body fall back flat on the sand in exasperation, his left hand pinching the birdge of his nose. "Oi. You'd think the woman could take a geyser or two in stride. And that a little storm last night. She didn't even get to do a Mary Poppins and fly through the air. It was that mild."

He got up, shaking sand and water off himself with another mischievous grin, and strode to Tala's inert body. "Okay, EarthMother, we hear you. Let me just get your little acolyte up, eh? Save the pomp and circumstance for when she can appreciate it."

Buhawi's cheeky talk was answered by the rumble of thunder and a darkening sky as he gently shook the Baylan's shoulders and smacked her cheeks until she opened frightened eyes. Whoops. Grandfather Bathala needs to restock his sense of humor.The SkyFather's always so serious.

***

"Oh, dearest, you have to go back." Tala heard a soft, alto and very feminine voice from far above her. She was still lying on wet sand, in her birthday suit. The geyser was still spewing and the shaking and rumbling hadn't stopped. She could also still hear the wild crash of the surf beyond.

"Shut up and let me be the ostrich, whoever you are. I give up. I don't have to do this." Tala kept her eyes firmly shut, knowing she was in some dream state because she didn't give a rat's ass if she was naked around some strange woman who, for all she knew could be a maligno (considering her poor run of luck in the meeting new people department).

"Tala, this is your great-great-great grandmother. Oye! This is no time for you to dormida asi," the gentle voice grew stern and scolding. "You have to get up and finish this business you began. Now, niña mia."

Tala popped one eye open and took a gander at who the shit had the foolish idea that she would give a flying, unzipped fuck whether she had to do anything or not. A woman dressed in the traditional Manileña garb of a baro't saya that would have done Maria Clara or Josephine Bracken proud was kneeling by her, unmindful of the damage the salt and wet sand could do to the fine, beige pineapple silk jusi cloth of her hand-embroidered pañuelo shawl/blouse combo or the cotton silk of her long red and black skirt. Her zapatillas must be full of sand and they'll be hell to walk in, Tala thought. Why doesn't she care?

The woman looking worriedly down at Tala looked mostly Spanish, with the sun setting fire to her reddish-brown hair. More true red than Malay brown, Tala mused inconsequentially, enjoying the non-sequitur. The woman's eyes were a blend of hazel green flecks against a field of antique gold, fringed in long brown lashes and tilted slightly up at the outer corner, hinting at a bit of the oriental in her genetics. Her lush red mouth was the mirror image of Tala's lips, down to the slight indentation in the middle.

"I am Beatriz, my darling," the woman said as she pressed a fair-skinned hand to Tala's cheek, patting it lightly. "You have to continue. Don't let these things upset you like they upset me and stopped me. I promise you'll have your answers in my Bestiario. Just get back to it and read the entry dated August 13, 1898 after you calm the elements the SkyFather and EarthMother send for this trial. Don't be a coward like I was, because this is just a foreshadowing of what is to come. Hala, go back to your Tikbalang. Ensiguida."

Foreshadowing?! Craptastic. Motherfathersonofabeach. Before Tala could even form a question, she felt herself being shaken out of the vision of her ancestor.

***

"Is it over?" The hope and fear in Tala's voice as she returned to consciousness tugged at Buhawi's heart, yet made him want to laugh. So he went with his gut and laughed, his guffaws blending with the booming, crashing and rumbling all around them as he gave Tala a quick hug that he hoped would convey his confidence that she could handle such small things as a mild earthquake, a geyser and stormy seas.

After all, if someone is to tame me, Buhawi thought, that someone might as well be gorgeous, intelligent and a total animal when it came to all matters coital and carnal. In a word, Tala. Adorable, delighful, delicious Tala, who has the power to call and silence the elements and is a crack shot with lightning.

"Nope. It's just started, sweet Balyan of mine," Buhawi grinned down at her. "You're gonna have to toughen up if you want to tame me. C'mon. Time to get to work. You gotta earn your Baylan badges and get them in a row to claim the last hair. The GrandParents of Sky and Earth expect it."

Tala curled her naked self up into the smallest ball of human she could and hid her face behind her knees. Something that sounded like "I can't" made its way out from under her tousled, gorgeous hair.

"Of course you can," Buhawi said, paying no nevermind to the shaking underfoot. "You've got to if you're going to deserve the eternal devoion of a prime cut of maleness like me. You scared of a little elemental rock n' roll? I tell you, this is gonna happen a lot whenever we get in the mood for a good romp—at least until you learn how to stop it or prevent it in the first place. You can't be that much of a sissy-girl."

"I may be a sissy, but excuse me for being shitting-igneous boulders-scared of earthquakes, huge hungry sharks, storm surges and sudden geysers, my princeling prickhead," Tala's head came up and the color that rushed back into her cheeks was the bright crimson of her temper. "I'm a human."

"Nope. You're more than human now, my precious little pop-tart," Buhawi said, his irreverent words an electric cattle-prod to her anger. "You're a witch, and a strong one. This should be nothing to you. Unless you aren't the Baylan Beatriz had so much faith in having for a descendant."

He lay sprawled on the wet sand, just out of reach of a boiling geyser and a roiling sea, on unstable ground, yet struck a languid pose better suited for a centerfold shoot for Playgirl than all the elemental crapfest now showing. How dare he look at me with come-hither eyes as if nothing was wrong at all. Males. Of every species. Grrrrr.

A low, feral growl made its way up her throat before she rediscovered her vocabulary. "And here I thought you'd at least protect me," Tala hollered at him, rising to her feet and raising both hands skyward in utter disgust.

This only made Buhawi break out into fresh peals of laughter (and adding to Tala's already high surge of gall), rubbing his magnificently sculpted belly over its happy trail to his upstanding and bobbing member while he was at it. "I guess I'm going to have to do that myself, you oversized draft pony," she tacked on with icy, spinning razors in her voice. "So mote it be, Your Royal Pain in the Assness."

Gods of war, she is magnificent. Buhawi smiled as he watched her stride angrily toward him, murder shining amber lights in her eyes and her hand clenching into claws, then solid fists at her sides. She was totally unmindful (for once) of her nudity or her hair curling wildly around her shoulders and face.

Look at that. I could spend eternity with that woman, yes, I could—and she's definitely going to make this a fight worth having. Her face is so beautiful when she's in a rage like this. Mmmmm...That's a WOMAN. Buhawi felt a strange, gooey melting somewhere in the area of his chest even as he felt a strong stirring in the region of his balls. My woman. Mine.

When cold, heavy raindrops began striking her skin, Tala broke her stride and looked to the skies, barking out a quick short spell in Latin (probably taken from the Bestiario, Buhawi presumed) as she raised both hands palms-up above her head.

The movement thrust the juicy globes of her now sun-kissed breasts up high and proud, a view Buhawi happily ogled. He also happily ogled the spread-legged stance Tala unconsciously took, especially since it gave him a fine view of her perfectly fine legs and well-trimmed pubes with their pouty, deep-pink lips.

Ah, this may be worth all the damn bother of the binding, after all, he thought to himself as he bit his lower lip to hold back yet another chuckle and to keep his lascivious thoughts to himself. This memory will make all future rituals of choke the chicken that much more fun.

Shaking a fist at the unruly heavens, Tala switched to her natural, uninflected English and pumped up the volume: "You just shut it and keep your damn rain to yourself. I'll deal with you later."

Then she stomped her pretty little feet on the ground and uttered another low incantation. "And you, too. Stupid fucking ground. Calla te! Punyeta!" The shaking eased up and quieted and she looked straight at Buhawi before flipping her hair and tossing her head in a snub directed at His Royal Horsiness before sticking her tongue out at him. "So there! Hindot."

With that, she walked on, increased her forward momentum and slammed her left shoulder hard into Buhawi's right flank, pushing him out of her way as she strode to the now-whistling geyser in his hot spring.

Tala muttered in low and dead serious tones over the edge of the pool and the geyser fell, popped up a couple of times, then disappeared as she completed her chanting just within Buhawi's earshot so he could only hear her cadence and voice, not the words.

Not that Buhawi was paying as much attention to her words as he was to her fine, heart-shaped ass and the sexy pair of dimples where back met buttocks. That was an ass he wanted to slap and mark with his big palms—again and again—and he flexed and fisted his hands so he could keep them off her. In the meantime, at least.

I wonder if she'd like a bit of spanking? Maybe we can spank the monkey together...I'll even let her cuff me and spank me. Maybe I'll call her 'Mistress' or 'Domina,' since she knows Latin. I'll even use the dirty words of that dead language, like mentula and cunus and fututere. Maybe I'll recite some of Catullus' bawdiest verse while we fuck. Now there's an idea she'll like. Buhawi's eyes lit up at the thought and he sighed his rising lust, but left her to complete her trial.

Mental note, buy Tala thigh-high boots for her to wear as I lick them. Maybe some leather and latex fetwear, too. Kinky is good. Very, very good.

By the time Tala sent her wrathful glare and stretched ominously open hands that crackled with energy yanked straight from her spirit's core out toward the sea, the waves began to smooth out from thrashing whitecaps to strong ripples, then the waters about 20 meters from the shore became calm and smooth as glass.

She no longer needed to utter anything: So high was the blaze of anger burning in her gut that that one sweeping look was all it took to quell the rage of water surrounding Buhawi's isle.

Feeling the first tug of tiredness, Tala closed her eyes and took deep breaths of the salt air, centering herself and making a mighty effort to batten down the hatches on the storm that was her ire before she turned around again.

"Now that I've straightened up here, I believe you owe me a meal," Tala said as she sauntered to the house with as much righteous indignation as she could muster. "Chop-chop, horsey." Tala came down from her emotional high and made a mental note to review Beatriz' writings again after they ate. Things like this can't keep happening if I want to return to work after this 'vacation' is over. I need to find a way to work around these events, stop them if I can.

"Yes, Mistress. I hear. I obey." Buhawi jogged past Tala, who yelped when he slapped her rump as he headed straight for the big, well-appointed kitchen off to the right of the foyer and through the dining room. "Just as long as you feed me hot pussy on my granite kitchen island while we wait for the rice to cook. It's the perfect height for that."

Tala shook her head as she rubbed the spot where Buhawi's palm connected with the meatiest part of her butt cheek in exasperation and snorted. "Haynaku. Punyemas." Other crisp cuss words in Spanish, Tagalog and Bisaya fell from her lips as she stalked indoors.

Some adults just never conquered their juvenile tendencies, it seemed. Not even bankers. Of course, not all bankers were Tikbalang, so what could she expect, really?

***

The Tikbalang was singing while he cooked and Tala could hear it all the way upstairs, in the master suite, as she rummaged through one of the footlockers for clothes she could armor up with. She could deal with Buhawi, but it would be better if her nipples weren't announcing her constant state of arousal, which would probably lead to fucking rather than a rational discussion. A girl had to be able to think to communicate, after all.

Didn't Buhawi's parents warn him that it's bad to sing while cooking because that would call malignos to sneak in and spoil the food? Oh, wait. He is a maligno. Of course he'd not hear that from his parents. Tala rolled her eyes as Buhawi ended his desecration of Martin Nievera's 'Be My Lady' and began mangling Adele's 'Rollin' in the Deep.' You'd think something with as sexy a speaking voice as that Tikbalang would be able to sing, but, noooo. I should have brought earplugs.

She stepped into the bathroom and ran a hot shower, twisting the knobs so the water came at her full blast and drowned out Buhawi's caterwauling well enough so she'd not go deaf. Or at least not because of his unholy wailing. Then she stayed under the showerheads for a full thirty minutes while she lathered up and rinsed the salt and sand from her skin and hair before she shut off the spray and dried off, feeling much, much better after bathing.

I must admit, the creature sure knows how to design a fantastic shower. Maybe that's worth committing to? Maybe not.Well, time to pin the tail on the donkey and discuss Buhawi's sudden about-face with regard to the commitment thing. Now or never. Though I'd prefer never. Forever is kind of literal for his kind and I am not sure I can do that. Fuck my life.

Tala yanked on a pair of sky-blue yoga pants and yet another tank top (didn't the Tikbalang pack anything else for her to wear? Damn maligno) and shoved herself into them before padding down to the kitchen barefoot because she had no patience to search for footwear.

***

"I didn't know what you wanted to eat," Buhawi said as Tala walked into the kitchen and parked her butt on a high chair by the sink at the granite island, "so I put together shrimp spring rolls and garlic-vinegar dip, flipped a few pancakes, fried a bit of bacon and pulled out some rice cakes I'd brought from the ref. There's rice in the cooker over there and I've got some beef tapa marinating in the quick chiller and fresh eggs if you want that."

All of the serious and mean words whirling around Tala's brain came to a standstill and fell straight to the marble kitchen floor. Now how can I be mean to a man who cooks this much food for me? Holy shit, I'm in trouble. I love having guys cook for me. That's hex-boyfriend number three, right there. The one who fucked around and got me to forgive him because he made such good paella. Fuck my life. This is my kryptonite, all right.

"Am I making you fall madly in love with me yet, my witchling? Am I?" Buhawi had come around the kitchen island and flicked a towel right at Tala's butt, the same butt cheek he's smacked on his way into the house, and the spell he wove just minutes before shattered to pieces.

"Close, but no cigar, Boowie-boy," Tala's voice was as icy as her glare a him was laser-hot. "I was hungry and, yes, men who cook are generally a huge turn on for me. Then you had to open that big mouth and shove both your monstrous hooves in it. Now I've lost my appetite."

Buhawi put his hands gently on Tala's shoulders as she was turning to leave the kitchen. "Now, now, I meant that in the best of ways." He chucked her under the chin lightly before lifting her face so he could look into her stormy eyes. "I wasn't out to upset you. All I want to do right now is feed you."