Assimilated

Author's note: Though the setting of this story is Jarra - the same as most of my other stories - this story is a departure in terms of its kinks. This is fdom romance. It contains brief scenes of violence and themes of bondage and transgenderism. See the tags for more detail. If that's okay with you, read on!

Month of Sowing, 3127

Northwestern Kong forest

A proverb my father used to tell me goes, "if you lose copper in the depths of Lake Kongo, don't throw gold in after it." It was wise to know when to quit, even if you hadn't got what you wanted.

I thought about that as I sat down to rest on a fallen log, prying open a jar of kichi. My breastplate chafed, ridges of crocodile hide grating unforgivingly against my armpits. I dared not take the armor off. Kong fighters were expert shots with their blowguns. Many soldiers had learned that lesson the hard way. I made sure I laid my spear within easy reach.

I was no longer in the Queen's army. So what was I doing here, deep in the deepest bush, with two men I had once battled beside, hunting the same enemy we'd once fought against?

"Soon, we will find them," Mio promised. The old warrior peeled off his helmet, revealing a bush of graying hair, matted with sweat. He cast the helmet down, alongside his war club.

Another day in this hells-forsaken forest.

Byam unstrapped and pulled his armored tunic over his head, swearing as he did so. Mio only looked on, saying nothing.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"To hells with this croco shitskin," Byam snarled. "These are only women we're hunting. That is, if there's anyone living at all this deep in the bush."

That's what the rumor said. A band of Kong holdouts, mostly women, living in the Aga River valley, from where they launched raids all the way back to the lakeshore.

"They're out here," Mio insisted. "This is close to where Kabanji said he found them."

"Put your armor back on," I told Byam.

"To hells with that, Djo," The tall warrior laid down on his sleeping mat, his back against the log. "Don't worry. If a lady attacks you in the night, I'll have her naked and screaming by dawn, choking on my popo by the time we see the sun." A satisfied grin stretched his lips and he laid his head back on his hands. "Kong whores will rut you ragged, once you tame them."

I looked at Mio, but the older man only shook his head. "The dogs will warn us if anyone approaches. Let him rest well, Djoben."

Lily, one of our pair of red and white hounds, pricked up her ears and whined at me. I gave her a few slivers of the smoked fish from my jar.

"Keep your head down and shield up." I recited to myself, just loud enough for the others to hear. That's what a subchief had once told me, and I had never forgotten it.

Follow orders. Keep moving forward. Stay alive.

I tried to relax as I watched the bitch gulp the kichi down. Then I laid my own sleeping mat on a level area sheltered by thick, gray buttress roots.

Twenty-five golden petals. That was Queen Catamori's bounty for each Kong rebel captured or killed. Twenty-five golden petals was worth more than anything I had - even the croco armor.

That amount of coin could cover the cost of a trading boat and the bride-price for a pretty fisherman's daughter. I could sail off on the lake. Away from biting leopard flies, poisonous snakes, and worse. Away from a war that had killed most every friend I had and blazed through this land like a wildfire since before the days I grew hair between my legs.

Twenty-five golden petals for my future.

I searched for the evening sky. The stars that should have been just starting to bloom were shrouded by the forest canopy. I made a pillow with my arm, ignoring my own rank odor from three days in the deep bush. Byam already snored. Mio hummed an old soldier's ballad as he fed the hounds. The rhythm lulled me into a fitful sleep.

**

The next morning, the dogs discovered a stream that must have been tributary to the Aga. We could easily have missed it, but once we found it, Mio decided to follow it instead of continuing on directly to the river. There was barely any flow; mostly a tumble of smooth, dark rocks covered with brilliant green moss. The basenjis trotted ahead of us, following the scents they sniffed among the rocks.

Byam carried a machete to chop through the thicker brush. He toted his spear and weighted net in the other. He still hadn't put his helmet back on, complaining that it blocked his vision. Like each of us, he carried a pair of iron manacles dangling from his waist.

He was determined to capture at least one Kong woman, he said. For two bounties, he could settle a massive plot of land and buy a chiefdom.

The Kong were formidable fighters. But after eighteen years of war, their woodland towns had been burned, their lands taken. A younger, more ruthless generation of their warriors had retreated into hidden fortified villages they called kilombos. Almost two years ago, Wengu, the largest of the kilombos, was razed to the ground. Since then, the Kong had scattered. They avoided pitched battles, but they still exacted a toll in banditry.

"Didn't Chief Kabanji say he lost a man to these rebels?" I asked.

Mio turned to me, his dark face shaded by the iron bands, black feathers, and cheek-pieces of his helmet. "Two men."

"Pah!" Byam spat. "No one even knew the two Kabanji named. He was just trying to make the venture sound worthwhile."

There may have been truth to that. When we left from the port town of Lungu on this journey, Kabanji was trying to round up as many soldiers and bounty hunters like us as he could to lead a larger expedition into the forest.

I scanned the woods, through spiky leaves of ferns to a wall of green and dappled sunlight. Raucous shrieks of birds and monkeys rang out from the canopy. I thought of the vast Lake Kongo, of open water and the bright vault of the sky. This place was claustrophobic. I'd finished my term as a conscript in the Queen's army, but still I felt trapped.

Twenty-five golden petals for a future.

Shield strapped to his back, Mio took the second position. He drew a trombash - a sickle-like blade with a long haft for throwing. Byam and I had served eight years in the war. Mio had become a subchief. He'd served twelve, and he'd been about my age when he was pressed into service.

"You'll be glad you joined me instead of Kabanji," Mio said as Byam and the hounds ranged out ahead and we followed the shallow gully downstream. "He will bring so many men out here, he'll scare away his quarry. Either that, or they'll have to fight each other over the bounties."

I'd never been one to drag my feet when I could rush straight in. That's why I'd joined Mio.

Each of us had already earned a small plot of land to farm. Some soldiers I knew had done that, slashing and burning the conquered woodland and settling to plant yams or dika nut orchards. That was our reward for surviving eight years. Croco armor, and dirt.

But instead of settling, and living in peace, we'd each become bounty hunters. Byam hoped for more gold. Mio... I wasn't sure what he hoped for. After all these years, I wanted - no, I needed - to get out of this hells-forsaken jungle.

The jungle was the most treacherous kind of enemy. Shocking emerald greens, rust-colored soil and brightly plumed birds distracted you with their brilliance. Sometimes the woods crowded you, and other times they opened up into lush glades. But always, death lurked just beyond sight. The sun only peeked into the trees, as if frightened of the forest's depths, and it set far too early in the day.

And there were demons.

We all wore charms on our armor and on our wrists, to ward infernals away. We could only hope it was enough. Sometimes demons would attack even large groups of people. Especially biloko - vicious dwarves with razor sharp teeth that could rend a man to shreds. I shuddered at the thought.

But twenty-five golden petals lined the path to my future.

By early afternoon, the stream had deepened and narrowed until it was hip-high at its center. We stopped to rest, and I began rummaging through my little basket for yam chips. The dogs splashed into the stream, apparently chasing a fish. Byam strode over to a cluster of reeds at the water's edge to relieve himself. He tossed me the machete. It sank blade-first into the soil at my sandaled feet.

"When we start again, you'll take point, Djoben" Mio said. "We're still a ways from the river itself, but I'm hoping we'll find some trace."

The hounds fixed on something under the water. Instead of barking, basenjis had a querulous howl, almost like a human voice.

"Pah! What in hells are they crying about?" Byam swore.

A burp of water swelled up in front of the dogs, making them jump. The wave rippled downstream. The dogs followed along the bank, howling louder now.

"Ginger! Lily!" Byam, still without his helmet on, started after them.

Byam was at point. He should have held his position.

The forest had gone too quiet, the birds and monkeys hushed. Even the gurgle of the stream seemed to have fallen off.

"Wait!" Mio shouted.

Just as Byam passed the reeds, two grass-covered humps rose out of the water, each with a reed poking out and taking aim. One at Byam's back, and the other at Mio. Blowguns.

From where I stood, all I heard was the soft hiss of the darts. Byam clutched at the back of his neck. Mio threw his trombash. The whirling blade struck one of the grass-covered figures, and a feminine scream told me who we were up against. We'd found the Kong rebels.

Or, more precisely, they'd found us.

An arrow sprouted from the back of Mio's leg, just below the kilt of his armor. I whirled and saw a third shrouded figure, behind us and away from the stream. This one held a bow, and she drew another arrow.

Either she was highly skilled or her Ancestors had smiled upon her. I'd fought alongside a hundred archers, and that was not an easy shot. Mio and Byam might hold their own against the others. But I had to stop her.

Gripping spear and shield, I charged, crashing through the brush. Her gaze slid towards me, eyes large and dark, circled by blood-red war paint. She was as calm as the lake surface on a windless day. She looked back at Mio and loosed the arrow.

I vowed that would be her last shot.

I was three paces from running her through when the ferns around me shook. Something thrashed beside me, grabbed my ankle and yanked.

And then the forest turned upside down.

I was hauled up into the air by one leg. My spear and shield went flying. My head struck the ground, skull knocking against the inside of the helmet.

Only momentarily stunned, I twisted to see my companions. Byam lay motionless on his back beside the stream, not far from where he'd been hit. The hounds were gone. Mio stood alone.

The small arrow was still stuck in the meat of his leg. Another two jutted from the shield strapped to his back. He hadn't had the chance to bring it to bear. He faced one of the women, now without her grass-woven cloak. I reached for my knife hilt. My shoulder blades still dragged on the ground. If I could cut my leg free-

Cool steel kissed my throat.

"Easy, Kwi," the archer's soft voice said in my ear. Intimate. I could feel her breath on my cheek. She smelled of sweat, and faintly of coconut. "You don't want to hurt yourself. Just watch."

Mio was weakening. It was obvious by the way he staggered. His adversary was a large woman, not as large as the old vet, but obviously strong. She wore only a brief halter to cover her breasts, and a loincloth. Throughout the war, Kong fighters had dressed this way, to taunt their opponents and maximize their range of movement. Broadfaced, grinning, she wielded a slender spear with a greater reach than Mio's war club.

And she danced.

This was the gungo, the famous dance of the Kong warriors. Feinting, swaying, always circling.

"Kwi!" she shrieked, in her sing-song dialect. "On your knees and I will spare you."

Milo swung savagely. She backed away, swaying, circling, forcing him to keep turning on his wounded leg. Despite her size, she was agile.

"Watch Saidi play," the archer whispered in my ear. I suppressed a sob.

Mio fought like a wounded beast. Again and again, he launched himself at Saidi. Each time she danced away. The spear licked out, point grazing his croco breastplate.

At that moment, I knew why Mio had come out here. He wasn't after a bounty. He was after revenge. He'd waged war for twelve straight years. Bitterness was all he had left, and his basket was overflowing.

He swung again, lumbering now as Saidi seemed to get only quicker. She spun away from the club, hand planted on the ground, a wheeling kick striking the side of his helmet. He fell into the mud.

Mio glanced at me then, and my breath caught in my throat. "No," I whispered.

As he struggled to his feet, Saidi ran him through his side with the spear. Mio collapsed and did not move again.

I wanted to die. Absently, I noticed the third ambusher. She clutched a wound on her ribs, but managed to roll Byam over. I heard the jingle and clink of iron as she cuffed him with his own manacles. Saidi approached us, her spear in hand and a grin on her face.

The archer reached across me, her blade still held firmly at my throat. Her arm, decorated with pale scars, slid over my armored chest, drew the knife from my belt, and tossed it away.

"I'm sorry about your companion," the archer said. It almost seemed like there was sympathy in her voice. "It's the price of war. We all pay." She tapped on the top of my helmet. "Take it off."

The helmet wasn't doing me any good now. Its open face and neck wouldn't prevent her from slitting my throat. Very carefully, I eased it off, baring my trimmed scalp to her.

"Just kill him," Saidi said. "We have the other one."

"But I like him," said the archer, finally drawing the knife away from my neck. "He does as he's told. And he has a nice butt."

Saidi held the spear on me, its steel point still dripping with Mio's blood, while the archer began sawing through the straps of my armor. Then through the little clothing I wore beneath that. With my ankle still caught in the snare, I didn't dare to resist.

"Just let me go. I'm no threat to-"

"Shut your mouth, Kwi!" Saidi barked.

Other women emerged like ghosts from the forest. They were dressed as sparsely as Saidi. They glanced over at us but gathered around Byam and their wounded warrior.

"How is Nika?" the archer asked.

"She'll live," Saidi replied. "Rutting old fool had a good arm, I'll give him that."

"His name was Mio-"

"Quiet," said the archer.

In less than a minute, I was naked, but for the sandals strapped to my calves. She even cut the warding charms off my wrists. I allowed her to sit me up, bowing the sapling branch I was snared to, and pull my arms behind my back. She bound my wrists with jute fiber. I was glad that at least they hadn't used the manacles on me. There's no way I could escape those.

Finally, she stepped in front of me to cut my ankle free. I got a look at her. She was as tall as Saidi, but more slender. Her skin was unblemished but for the old scars that marked it - on arms, her shoulder, above her breasts, even on her jaw. Her hair was a cloud of tight, dark curls.

She looked at me with a strange expression. A fierce kind of sadness. She slashed the jute that held my leg in the air.

"Can you walk?" she asked.

Awkwardly, I rolled to my feet, testing the ankle even as I tested the tightness of my bonds. I nodded.

They marched to the stream. I was painfully aware of my nakedness before these strangers. We passed by the others. One of the women, carrying Mio's trombash, joined us. The others tended Nika's wound and stripped Mio and Byam's bodies.

"What about Byam?" I said, slowing. The Kong used a sleeping poison on their darts. He must have only been knocked unconscious.

I felt Saidi's spearpoint prick my back, just beside the spine. "Keep walking," she ordered.

Whatever their plans were for Byam, we left him behind. I dared not look back, and I decided it better to remain silent than to ask questions. Saidi seemed ready to kill me on any excuse.

The woman who had claimed Mio's weapon walked in front of me. After a while I couldn't help but stare at the expanse of bare flesh and the rhythmic sway of her hips beneath the brief loincloth. Even in my current circumstance. It had been days since I'd even seen a woman, let alone touched one. Once she glanced back and caught me looking away. Her gaze dropped, lingering on my cock. It bobbed traitorously in front of me, like a battle standard.

"I think our captive is not so disappointed to be a captive," she smirked.

The other two, behind me, said nothing. But my ears grew warm all the same.

It was close to nightfall when we began to slow. At least, I guessed it was close to nightfall. The sun had certainly dropped beneath the trees to our right, on the far side of the stream. The water appeared deeper here, though I could not be sure.

By the time we reached what I realized was their village, I was exhausted. Unable to protect myself, I had insect bites all over, and scratches from razorgrass etched the sides of my legs.

The settlement was a collection of little huts in a partially cleared area on both sides of the stream. I could have easily overlooked it. The huts were draped with sod and grass, and there were no ancestral pylons warding the place.

Candlelight-sized lamp flames lit the village, as curious women came out of their huts to congratulate their warriors. These women were more modestly dressed, in the same type of long wrap skirts that would be worn back in my hometown. Some leered at me, like I was a slab of meat brought home from the market.

"I'll put him in a yam hut," the archer said, as our audience filtered back into their homes. Her Kong accent wasn't as heavy as Saidi's. In fact, she had no accent at all.

"Like hells," snorted Saidi. "Tie him to the box, where everyone can see him. And use his rutting manacles, for the sake of the Ancestors."

The archer shoved me from behind. "Allow him some dignity," she muttered. From her tone, I guessed she was not following Saidi's advice. Maybe the archer was in charge. If so, my Ancestors smiled upon me.

She guided me towards the rear of the village, farther from the water. I couldn't see much by the lamp that one of my captors carried, but the hut she pushed me into seemed to be raised slightly off the ground to discourage insects and other pests. It was round inside and mostly empty, though it smelled of yams.

"I know you're hungry," the archer said. She drew her knife and bent to cut the straps of my sandals. She'd now destroyed or taken everything I had. "In the morning, I'll bring you food."

"You're just going to leave me here?" I complained, inwardly hopeful that she would. They seemed completely unprepared to hold a prisoner. I'd seen no sentries in the village. There wasn't even a defensive wall. "By the Ancestors, at least let me relieve myself." I peered around the little granary hut. "Unless you want me to..."

She sighed and motioned me back out. She pointed around to the grass behind the hut, away from the other two women. "There are leaves to use back there."

"I also have to pee, though. Can't you untie me?"

"No. Be quick." She turned away from me while I squatted in the dark.

It was odd, the way she had taken me out of sight of the others. Protective, almost.

"What is to become of me?" I asked her, as I awkwardly wiped myself.

"We're not monsters, Kwi," she said. "But you must understand. We can't let you go."

"Back in Lungu, they already guessed you are out here," I said. "There's nothing I can tell them they don't already know."