Summoning the Rain Spirit

It was clear night in Northern Ghana, the heat had not diminished much with the setting of the sun, so I was sweltering under the layers of rough, hand-woven cloth that my friends had given me to wear. I was travelling with my best friend from university and she had taken me home to visit the remote village where she was born.

The village was so remote, that we had had to walk for three miles carrying our backpacks, mostly filled with presents for Gail's family, because even the sturdy 4x4 was unable to take us any further. And it was so remote, that some of the small children ran away screaming when they caught sight of me. They had never seen a white woman before, Gail explained. The last missionaries had given up and left a few years ago, driven away by the villager's refusal to drop their ancient rites and traditions in favour of a mysterious God they could not even see.

But Gail's homecoming was not as happy as it should have been. The rains had failed to come for the sowing of the fields, the land all around the village was brown and barren. Only in the valley of the dry river, a few dark green trees gave shade, though their leaves were coated with dust.

Thus tonight, I was going to be the first white person to witness a Summoning of the Rain Spirit. While I did not believe in spirits and ghosts, I respected the traditions of the people and hoped that their ritual would be met with success, the land really, desperately needed rain.

All the adults of the village were gathered in a circle around the fire, grandfathers with sightless eyes but wise minds, swaggering young men oozing bravado to cover their fear, work-weary women staring into the flames. Everybody wore the same clothing, coarse, hand-woven cotton cloths patterned in earth colours. One was knotted over the left shoulder, covering the wearer's right side from armpit to ankle, the other crossed over the first to be tied on the right shoulder.

The low murmur of conversation ceased abruptly when the holy man bounded into the circle. He wore a fearful looking mask, but otherwise he was buck-naked, his chocolate skin glistened with oil and contrasted starkly with the white designs he had painted onto his chest and abdomen. Then the drums began. I counted twelve drummers who stood at the edge of the firelight, setting up a slow, hypnotic rhythm.

Fascinated, I watched, as the holy man began to sway to the rhythm and dance around the fire, his movements lithe and sensuous, though he was not a young man any more. Every now and then, he would take a pinch of powder from a bowl beside the fire and throw it into the flames, making them flash and flare in a myriad colours.

Gradually I realised that the cadence of the drums was becoming faster and the holy man was dripping with sweat. Gail, sitting beside me, leaned a bit closer and whispered in my ear, "Oh damn, I don't think it's working."

"How do you know?" I muttered back.

"The Rain Spirit is supposed to come and choose a woman. If he doesn't, that's it, he isn't going to answer us." Gail replied.

I was just about to ask how the Rain Spirit would make his choice known, when a young woman seated opposite us began to shudder while wisps of a pale, fog-like substance wavered around her. The holy man danced toward her and the drums beat faster and faster while two women, helpers of the holy man, rose from their seats to walk to the chosen one.

The women took the chosen girl's hands and helped her to her feet, guiding her to the centre of the circle. While the women helpers began to undo the knots of the girl's clothing, the misty substance seemed to gather closer and closer around the chosen girl. Several men got up and went into the holy man's hut, returning with a large, round mahogany table that gleamed, darkly polished in the firelight. The men placed it in the circle of people, near the fire, then returned to their seats.

Meanwhile, the chosen girl was naked, her body beautifully rounded. The mist gathering around her seemed to be stroking and pleasing her, her nipples stood out hard and proud, her groin and thighs gleamed with her moisture.

Now the women began to stroke the girl, taking her breasts in both their hands, kneading her flesh and tugging at her nipples until she groaned loud enough for me to hear her above the sound of the drums. The women coaxed the girl to sit, then lie back on the table. One woman continued her attention to the girl's breasts, the other coaxed her legs apart to reveal the startling pink of her intimate lips that contrasted starkly with her chocolate-toned skin.

"What's going to happen to her?" I breathed in Gail's ear, spellbound and more than a little afraid for the girl.

"The women are going to shave and prepare her. Then the Spirit chooses two or three men to mount her, get her ready for him. If she pleases the Spirit, he will come and take her. He'll take her away with him and give us rain." Gail explained.

Now more scared for the girl than before, I watched as one of the women bent over the chosen girl to suck on her nipples while the other covered her mound in a soapy lather, preparatory to shaving her. The swirling fog left the girl and hovered around the circle before descending on a man who was seated a short distance from us. It enveloped him as he rose to his feet and seemed to caress him, as the bulge in the front of his robe grew to an even more impressive size.

Walking to the table, the chosen man stood waiting, watching while the women finished preparing the girl. She was shivering in spite of the heat and when she turned her head, squirming as one of the women rubbed oil into her freshly shaven lips I could see that tears were running down her face and she was sobbing quietly. The misty substance was back, enveloping her and the women who had now finished rubbing her body with oil, went to the chosen man and disrobed him.

'This can't be happening,' I thought, 'how can they do that to one of their own?'

Just as the impulse to jump up and try to call a halt to it all, Gail's hand gripped my shoulder hard. "She won't get hurt." She whispered in my ear. "The Rain Spirit does not demand pain, only pleasure from his chosen ones. So stay calm. You could get yourself and me killed if you interfere."

Now the holy man was at the girl's head, offering her a drink from a small bowl but she turned her head away.

The chosen man stepped up to the girl on the table and spoke to her, we could not hear what he said but his smile was kind and he began to stroke her gently, his caressing hands visible through the mist that surrounded them both. Moving closer, the man positioned himself so that he could penetrate the girl. The thudding of the drums stopped, the sudden silence shocking.

Into this silence, the girl pleaded, "No, oh no, please don't."

The mist dissolved and was gone, the man stepped away from the table and picked up his robes, the villagers made ready to stand and leave. The holy man shook his masked head at the girl in silent rebuke and disappointment.

"What happened?" I breathed to Gail.

"The Spirit rejected her." She whispered back. "She did not wish to please him."

Her face suddenly became hazy before my eyes and a cool, pleasant sensation washed over me after the stifling heat. I squirmed as a sensation of soft caresses all over my skin began to concentrate on my breasts, stroking and kneading and teasing my nipples. Then I felt sensual touches between my legs, too, and shifted involuntarily as the mist gained substance around me.

"Oh goodness!" Gail cried out. "The Spirit!"

The holy man whirled around to stare at me, then he motioned for the drummers to resume their tasks and walked towards me, shoving his goggling helpers ahead of him. The women took my hands and pulled me to my feet while the holy man stepped in front of me and spoke. "The Rain Spirit has never before returned after rejecting a chosen one. I beg of you, please the Spirit so that we may have rain."

I was unable to reply, my mouth was completely dry with fear, embarrassment, anticipation and, yes, with arousal, too. The wisps of mist were still touching me all over, stroking, pleasing, and teasing.

"Come to be prepared." Said the holy man leading the way to the table with me and the women following in his wake.

When we reached the table, the women untied my robes, leaving me standing naked and embarrassed. I wanted to cover myself up, but swirls of mist attached themselves to my wrists and prevented movement, while other parts of the misty substance continued to tease my body.

As I stood there, bared in the firelight, I felt the earth cry out to me for rain, the parched, cracked soil under my feet ached and I thirsted in sympathy. Resolving that I would not be rejected by the Spirit if I could help it, I stopped cringing and stood up tall, my breasts with their swollen nipples standing out proudly from my chest, my feet planted firmly, slightly apart on the desiccated earth.

"That's it." The holy man encouraged me. "You're the chosen one, you're special and rightly proud of it."

Now the women were stroking and pleasing me along with the swirls of mist and my heart pounded as I felt my wetness slick my thighs. At the women's urging, I lay back on the table as the girl had done and moaned again as one of the women drew my nipple into her mouth and began to suck hard while her hands kneaded my breasts. I wanted to touch her, show her my appreciation, but the misty swirls were still holding my wrists. But at that moment, as if they read my mind, they released me and I brought one hand up to hold the woman's head to my breast, my other hand covered hers as she pleasured me.

Her companion was spreading my legs and lathering up my sparse pubic hair in preparation of shaving me. I closed my eyes, not entirely comfortable with having a stranger wield a sharp blade so close to my intimate parts, but then I remembered that she had done a very good job on the first chosen girl and relaxed.

It did not take her long to shave me, then she started spreading scented oil over my skin, first over the shaved area, then she briefly penetrated me with a finger before rubbing the oil into my thighs and legs. That brief touch made me moan aloud.

I was answered by a male chuckle beside my head and the holy man said, "You will please the Spirit, I'm sure." Then he offered me the bowl with a strong-smelling liquid to drink. "This will quench your thirst while making you hungry," he smirked, "though I doubt you'll be needing it."

Deciding to be on the safe side as I did not know what else would be in store for me, I accepted the drink. It did not taste as bad as it smelled and I could finally speak again because my mouth was not so dry any more.

"Thank you." I said to the holy man and the women who were now both covering my body with the scented oil. Then I realised that the mist was gone and remembered what that meant. It was picking the first man for me. Just then, the women, obviously enjoying my responsiveness that was becoming more and more pronounced since I drank the holy man's brew, took one of my breasts each, sucking and kneading until I arched into their touch with a loud groan.

Moments later, they were gone, their hands and mouths leaving me wanting. I looked up to meet the eyes of a man standing between my legs, his gaze friendly but filled with lust as mine must have been. His hand reached for me and when I took it, he raised me into a sitting position before wrapping his arms around me, rubbing his hard, muscular body against mine while his hands stroked my skin, exploring me. The mist surrounded us, and it seemed to guide the man's hands, showing him what I liked best, what turned me on. One of his large, callused hands took my breast, kneading hard while his other hand cupped my sex, one thick finger sliding into me and making me shudder, very close to climax.

I reached down between us to stroke him, awed by the heat and silky hardness that my hand encountered. A groan rumbled through his chest, encouraging me to stroke him harder, faster. His arms tightly around me, his strong hands parting me, he lifted me up while my legs wrapped around his narrow hips and poised me over the tip of his shaft. Once more the throb of the drums came to an abrupt stop. The head of his erection touched me, and he groaned as he felt my slick wetness. Slowly, he began to penetrate me, filling me, stretching me. The sensations were wonderful and I climaxed in his arms, shuddering and groaning.

My chosen one lost control then, and let me slide down onto his shaft until I had taken him inside me to the hilt. The drums began their thundering again, matching their rhythm to ours as we thrust and heaved against each other. I squirmed in his arms to feel more of him and his thrusts became harder and faster, the drums keeping up with his rhythm. I wished I could touch my breasts but there was no way I could let go of the man's shoulders. Again, as if it had read my mind, the mist was back and the sensation of hot, wet suckling on my nipples pushed me over the edge of another climax.

The chosen man's shaft expanded even more inside me and his whole body was taut as a bow-string for a moment, then his movements became even harder and more frantic as he pumped his seed into me. We held on to each other for a while, as the aftershocks coursed through us, then my chosen one let me slide down his body and sat me back on the edge of the table.

The second chosen man was already waiting for me, in stature, he was even taller and more muscular than the first man, but his gaze was very unfriendly, even hateful. He also seemed to be impatient. He stepped between my legs, placed his hands at my shoulders and pushed me back prone on the table. Then his hands ran over my breasts, giving my nipples a rough tug that made me flinch.

"Do not hurt her." The holy man admonished the chosen man.

The chosen man acknowledged the words with a scowl and lowered his hands to my groin. Stabbing two fingers of one hand into me, he pinched my clit hard with the other. I flinched again and clenched my teeth in pain as he let go of my nub and rammed another finger inside me only to withdraw it and thrust it into my anus.

"I'm warning you for the last time," the holy man growled,

I was glad when the groping stopped, then, and the chosen man took my legs, raising them up and spreading them wide. Positioning himself at my entrance, the man paused for a moment as the drums silenced their throbbing. With a brutal thrust, the man rammed himself inside me and I groaned with the pain and revulsion of being taken with such hatred. The mist gathered into a denser concentration than I had yet seen it and flew at the man. There was a sickening thud as it collided with the man's face and he keeled over backwards with blood gushing from his nose.

The drums started up again in a frenzied rhythm as the misty substance returned to me and began to caress my body as if to take away the unpleasant experience. Within moments I was moaning with delight as I felt as if both my breasts were being suckled at once while something stroked and teased my clit and a cool, soothing sensation penetrated me gently.

Well on my way to another climax, I sighed in frustration as the mist left me again. Once more the holy man was at my head offering me the bowl of liquid. I drank greedily and thanked him.

When I looked up again, a third chosen man stood before me, smiling a kindly smile. He was of average build though strong from hard physical work. When my gaze slid down his body, I shivered. His shaft was the longest and thickest I had ever seen and it scared me a little.

The man must have been used to reactions such as mine because he said, "I'm a gentle lover, I'll be good to you."

That made me smile and reach up to stroke his cheek, "I'm sure you are. We'll be wonderful together."

Just as he had promised, his hands were rough with work but gentle and he certainly knew how to please a woman. He lowered his head and caressed my face with his lips while his fingers took my breasts, coaxing the nipples into hard, tender nubs before pinching and tugging them just hard enough to make me moan in pleasure. My hands were busy on his erection, stroking the silky-soft skin, rubbing the wetness I found at the tip all over him, delighting in the throb of his pulse under my fingers.

I groaned again when he drew one of my nipples into his mouth, suckling hard to the rhythm of the drums. His hand stroked over my stomach to cup my mound, one of his fingers caressing my slippery nub lightly, another dipping inside me.

As my hands moved faster on him, harder, he stopped me. "You've aroused me very much. I need to have you now." He said. Then he climbed onto the table beside me and lay on his back. "Take me inside you. This way you can control the pace."

Grateful for his thoughtfulness after the boorish treatment from the second guy, I straddled his lap and poised myself over the tip of his shaft. Once again the drums were abruptly silenced as I was to be penetrated. Slowly, I lowered myself onto him, sliding my wetness all over his erection before guiding him to my entrance and pushing down on him little by little. Gradually, I overcame my nervousness and relaxed as I realised how good this man's control was. He gritted his teeth but did not move, giving me all the time I needed. He was stretching me wider than I had ever been stretched before but the sensation was not painful, it began to give me pleasure after a while.

In order to make it easier for me to take him, I cupped and kneaded my own breasts, teasing my nipples into hard nubs, then pinching them, rolling them between my thumbs and fingers. As I had hoped, the sensations I gave myself aroused me more and my juices flowed even more freely. Understanding what I was trying to achieve, the chosen man reached down between my legs and stroked my clit. Moving back and forth on his rock-hard shaft, I managed to take all of him inside me within minutes.

"You can move now." I said, releasing him from the pleasurable torture that I could see on his face.

Slowly, we built up a rhythm as we flowed and thrust against each other. When he was moving easily inside me, he said, "Give me your breasts, please, let me suck them."

I leaned down, bracing one hand beside his head, then cupped one of my breasts in the other and offered it to him. He moaned with pleasure at that and surged into me harder, his finger still tracing circles on my clit, driving me wild. Offering him the other breast now, I met his strokes with my own, crying out in delight as his teeth scraped gently over my sensitive nipple. I felt a massive climax building up in me and my partner's constant moans against my breast told me he was not far from coming himself.

I did not want this wonderful experience to end, but the man bit my nipple again and I cried my climax out into the night while he pumped his seed into me thrusting hard and fast, prolonging my pleasure. I collapsed on his chest and he wrapped his arms around me still buried deep inside me.

"Thank you." I whispered in his ear. "I have never come so hard in my life."

"Neither have I." He whispered back and we both chuckled at the shared secret.

We stayed locked together for a while longer. If it had been my choice, I would have gone down on him until he was hard again for another hot round. But I was the Spirit's chosen one and would probably have been far out of line had I done that. I was resting on my partner in a half-doze when the rumble of thunder made itself heard above the thudding of the drums.

The drums were suddenly silent again and I heard gasps and soft exclamations all around me.

"The Spirit is coming for you." The holy man said, reaching to help me climb off my chosen man and giving me another drink. Then he went on, "I'll be here, sitting on the table right by you, so don't be afraid, whatever happens. You've been wonderful, you've pleased the Spirit very well, my child, thank you."