Aranungana Ch. 01

Disclaimer: The following story is a fictional story told by fictional characters. All persons engaging in sexual activities in this story are above the age of eighteen.

Foreword

My name is Peter Hausra, Professor at the Institute for Fictional Sexual Anthropology and this is the story of my expedition to Norskania. I apologize in advance for the quality of my writing and drawings, but please bear in mind that I'm neither a native English speaker nor an artist. I'm just an anthropologist with limited resources. Nevertheless I hope to improve my skills moving forward. Our expedition will document the sexual rituals and practices of the people of Norskania, before they get influenced by our world.

Figure 1: Aranungana woman with full butterfly tattoo

The beginning

My interest in Norskania peeked up strong when I heard stories of beautiful women with butterfly tattoos on their buttocks drifting topless on bamboo rafts over a magical lake. These stories originated from the Norwegian cave explorer Thor Skelbred who had resurfaced after being missing for two months. He told tales of a magical land he named Norskania on the other side of the cave, but subsequent investigations of the cave found no such land and his stories were declared the imaginations of a mad man.

To me, the allure of being the first to document the sexual habits and morals of never before contacted people was just too strong. Even if there was just a slight chance of Skelbred telling the truth, I was willing to take it.

I pitched my idea to my research group and got a variety of reactions, but two were interested in participating in the endeavor. Isabell, a 21 year old Swedish student who did her masters at our institute, would accompany me on the expedition and my research assistant William would manage everything on this side of the cave. Hopefully, he will publish these words.

We flew to Norway and after a day of hiking set up our camp inside the small cavern where according to Skelbred the entrance should be.

The third night, on my watch, a round tunnel started to open in one of the walls. By the time I woke up Isabell and William and grabbed the first backpack with our equipment the tunnel reached a diameter of about 1,5 m. Isabell wanted to get dressed, but since we did not know how long the tunnel would stay open, I told her to leave the tent now and get dressed once we had our equipment safe on the other side. It was paramount to not waste any time.

She came out in just shoes, white slip and tight tank top, then took another backpack and went into the tunnel ahead of me. The tunnel was too low for us to stand up and we had to crawl on all fours.

It seemed to make a few turns, but all I could see in the light of my torch was the backside of Isabell, so I can't provide a better description on the tunnel itself.

William, please remove everything I underline from the text before you publish. It's just for my memory, but you will probably enjoy reading it as well. I know you are attracted to Isabella and you would have enjoyed our trip through the tunnel. I stayed as close to her as could, with my nose almost touching her cute ass. I was so close that I could smell her sweet pussy through the thin fabric of her slip, which sat so tight that her lips formed the nicest cameltoe.

We were about 300 m into the perfectly round tunnel when it slowly started to contract around us. We continued forward, as we could see light further up ahead. We rushed onward, while the tunnel kept getting narrower, forcing us to abandon our backpacks in order to continue. The last few meters I had to crawl on my elbows and the tunnel closed completely shortly after we exited.

We took a few moments to recover from the shock of our narrow escape, before we analyzed our situation as calmly as possible.

We were stranded with no food, no water, almost no equipment and no way to contact any help. Both our phones had no reception, no GPS and we lost our solar chargers inside the tunnel.

Isabell had no other clothing than the underwear she was wearing and I had just my shorts and T-shirt. The only useful items we had with us were two knives, a compass, notebooks and pencils in a waterproof bag and some gold dust that we hoped would be accepted as currency over here.

With no idea when or if the portal would open again, we considered that our only option was to continue our expedition deeper into Norskania in order to find help from the local people. As soon as we left the cave and its cold climate we were hit by warm, humid, subtropical air and despite our sparse clothing we began to sweat immediately. We were on a steep hill that was covered in thick bamboo of all sizes making orientation almost impossible, although due to the angle of the sun I was able to determine that we were much closer to the equator..... if this was still earth.

We used our knives to cut my shirt into strips which we used to mark our path. The last thing we wanted was to get lost in this forest without the possibility of at least being able to return to the cave. The air was filled with mosquitoes and bugs, the thick bamboo and steep terrain made any progress very slow. Almost two hours later the rumble of a small waterfall reached us and drove us in that direction. Almost out of cloth strips we finally reached it, marked the entrance point to the path and took a short rest before continuing downstream. To get out of this bug infested thicket as soon as possible, we walked in the creek bed and even though the rocks were very slippery we were able to progress faster.

Isabell slipped a few times and fell into the water. Her briefs got soaked and turned almost transparent, revealing that stripe of short hair that sits above her gorgeous slit. She did not notice, or at least pretended she didn't or was just too distracted by our situation, but it definitely lifted my mood in this humid bug infested hell of a forest. I have to admit that she was dealing with our predicament a lot better than I would have ever expected. She is fit, knows how to walk in difficult terrain and hasn't even complained about the heat, bugs or her lack of clothing. Maybe the adrenaline and the excitement that we had actually entered Norskania kept her going.

After another hour the bamboo forest suddenly gave way to a large lake. It had a curved shape, maybe round and as far as we could see was enclosed by a ridge. The lake was completely covered in water lilies of a variety I had never seen before. In the air above the lake were millions of large butterflies dancing from lily flower to lily flower like a harmonious symphony. In the distance we saw what looked like small islands and beyond that at the horizon was a mountain that seemed to rise out of the middle of the lake.

We rested and I pulled one of the lilies out of the muddy ground to further inspect it. It had potato-like tubers growing at its roots, a hollow stem that opened into its large leaf creating a natural funnel. From there it sprouted several stems that were the base for several flowers and on older stems it had cherry-like berries. On the tubers crawled lots of small white worms. I wanted to try one of the berries, but Isabell kept me from doing so and drew my attention to a group of people further down the shore. They were definitely people, but because of the distance we could only make out their contours.

Isabell was hardly able to contain her excitement and she literally started jumping up and down like a little girl. That made me aware of our pitiful and dirty appearance. Her top was sweat soaked and clung to her breasts as if in a wet T-shirt contest, her little nipples clearly showing through the wet fabric. Now they were bouncing up and down. Her skin was covered in dirt, traces of smashed bugs and mosquitoes. I calmed her down and easily convinced her we should wash ourselves before approaching the group. We withdrew into the thicket and I went a few meters further upstream around a corner to give Isabell some privacy.

Isabell. Don't publish this drawing. It's just for me and you.

Approaching the group along the muddy shore we could make out ten individuals that seemed to be cutting bamboo. When we were about 500 m away they stopped their work and awaited our arrival. Suddenly they started shouting and waving, then ran towards their bamboo rafts. At first we were confused by the sudden change of attitude, but then heard angry bellows and looking behind us we saw a herd of massive hippos approaching fast.

We ran as fast as we could and luckily the mysterious people waited for us once they had reached their rafts. We reached them in chest high water and they helped us onto their rafts before the hippos came too close. Totally exhausted, I collapsed onto one of the rafts while they poled away from the shore as fast as possible, shouting orders in an unknown language.

The Aranungana

Once safe everyone calmed down but they continued to pole the narrow rafts through a channel in the water lily carpet towards one of the distant islands. The group consisted of five men and five women in their late teens and early twenties, with northern European appearance, strong and healthy looking. Their clothing consisted simply of silky black or white thongs, two of the women had additional tops while the other three remained bare-chested.

Our rescuers call themselves the Aranungana. They all had the physique and posture of warriors, but were friendly and welcoming. We had been rescued by the people I had set out to find.

Their most intriguing feature were their tattoos. Eight of them had a partly-finished butterfly tattoo covering the left side of their buttocks and left inner thigh and butterfly antennas on their lower back, while two girls that looked the youngest had only the antennas. The design of the upper wing of the butterfly was the same on all of them, while I could count six different ones for the lower wing. Their clothing seemed to be designed in a way to cover as little as possible from their well-kept backsides.

Figure 2: Aranungana woman on a raft. Drawn on our journey towards the island.

William, these people are so beautiful. They all have the demeanor and bodies of warriors, even the women. They stand upright and are very athletic, pushing their chest out whenever possible. Compared to them our clothing was plentiful. The small triangle covering their front was held in the back by mere strings that covered next to nothing, but that seemed to be intentional, as they seemed to be very proud of their tattooed asses. I was able to observe the young woman in the front of my raft quite closely during our journey to the island. The skin of her ass was so smooth as if treated with oil daily and not a single hair seemed to grow on her body. When she bent forward in the poling process she revealed her tattoo in its full beauty. The surrounding lines of the wings start right at her anus and spread out from there. It was hard for me to keep my thoughts straight and not to constantly stare.

Our journey over the shallow, smooth lake and through the clouds of butterflies took about two hours and the more distance we put between us and the shore the more pleasant the climate got. It was still warm, but not as humid and I could feel a cool breeze on my skin. The mosquitoes and bugs were gone as well. Outside of the narrow channel all we could see were endless fields of water lilies, butterflies and at the end of the channel the island.

Every now and then I spotted a large fish close to the surface. As we came closer we could see more people on rafts making their way towards the island. The small island itself looked more like a reef and was probably not more than forty meters wide and maybe a few hundred meters long.

The Aranungana had built large bamboo houses on stilts that stretched over the water on both sides. A lot more people of all ages came into view and children were playing in the water and on the balconies. Everyone was clad in similar thongs and about half the women and men were wearing tops as well. Most of them had full butterfly tattoos, with their buttocks and thighs fully covered, while the children had no tattoos at all.

Whilst we were greeted friendly, they seemed surprised we didn't speak their language. Supposedly our rescuers explained what had happened and at the end we were led onto the upper floor of one of the houses. Here we found one large room and likely another room at the other end. The empty middle created a long hallway with about fifty hammocks hung up in rows to both sides of it. All adults had at least two tattoo designs in common either on their right or left side, which led me to believe that this was the home of a large extended family. Two of our group seemed to be part of it, one of the men that had poled Isabells raft and one of the young un-tattooed girls.

Nudity within the home seemed to be normal, as the girl took off her thong as soon as she had reached her hammock, where she stuck it in a small bag before climbing into her hammock.

Her brother led us to two hammocks in the middle part and made us understand that these were for us. He looked surprised we climbed into them with our clothes on, exhausted from our journey.Later in the evening I understood that the Aranungana always lay naked in their hammocks.

He actually looked as disappointed that Isabella had kept on her clothing as I had been delighted to see his younger sister undress. Apart from the obvious pleasure of seeing a beautiful eighteen-year-old girl naked it was also a good omen for our expedition. In cultures where nudity isn't stigmatized our work is

usually a lot easier. The girl had the slender build of a late adolescent teen and a faint tan line around small youthful boobs indicated that she preferred to cover them, when outside. She had long blond hair, blue eyes and a beautiful smile. Even though she had removed all hair from her body she had left what little pubic hair she had to begin with. Unfortunately I just got a quick glimpse of her beauty before she disappeared into her silky hammock, but I hope to be able to examine her closer up in the future.

We rested in our hammocks and wrote into our notebooks until the late afternoon, when we were led into an area on the ground floor for a large meal. It consisted of starchy tubers, bamboo shoots, fish, pork and red lily berries, which tasted like very sweet cherries. The food was plentiful and everyone ate a lot. It seemed to be their main meal and I haven't seen anyone eat anything since we met. Isabell and I ate our fair share, not sure when we'd be able to get food again. I engaged in friendly conversation and despite the language barrier I had a good time. They were very forthcoming and even taught me some basic words in their language. I hope to be able to expand on this during the next days.

After the meal we went back to our hammocks and admired the sunset over the distant mountain in the middle of the lake through the open windows. With the onset of darkness a cooling breeze swept through the compound and one after the other our hosts undressed and went to sleep in their hammocks. I was very tired and fell asleep almost immediately, but right before I drifted away I thought I heard the distinct noises of people engaging in sexual activity coming from the room at the end of the house.

Figure 3: Aranungana woman at the window in the morning with butterfly tattoos on her inner thighs.

Note by the editor

As you can see, I decided to leave Prof. Hausras personal observations and drawings in the text as I enjoyed them and thought they added some "spice" to the text. Since this is an expedition report and not a scientific paper I can see no problem with leaving them here. Please let me know in the comments if you agree or if I should remove them in future publications.

PhD. William Smith

Thanks to Trc2003 and Kabe1957 for editing.