Flesh: Prologue

Eventually, Pachacamac returned to his new piece of property, sitting cross-legged on the ground alongside Summer and Otoniel. Summer was not fond of the proximity, crunching herself further into a ball to prevent the chief from seeing more of her body.

Five others joined him, two men, and three women. Otoniel, after talking briefly with Pachacamac in Huaca, introduced Summer to Apotequil, Mancocapac, Chasca, and Yana. Apotequil was the village's priest, Mancocapac was the chief's brother, Chasca the chief's wife, Yana the chief's daughter, and Kulli a friend of Chasca. Mancocapac certainly let his eyes linger on Summer's body, but the rest of the Huaca treated Summer's nudity as a completely mundane thing. They ignored the fact that she was naked, interested in talking to her about America and what she thought of their little village.

Yana handed bowls to both Otoniel and Summer, filled with a strong-smelling mixture of what looked to be rice and beans. The spices on the dish were strong enough to make Summer's eyes water, even without putting the food into her mouth.

"Tacu tacu," Otoniel explained. "With llajhua. It's rice and beans with a spicy tomato and pepper sauce." The translator saw the skeptical look on the girl's face. "It's good."

Summer wasn't quite so sure. When it came to foods, and spicy foods in particular, she had never been very adventurous. Even though she'd been in Bolivia for two months now, most of her meals had consisted of bland American food that they'd carted down from Babylon, or Otoniel's culinary concoctions that took Peruvian and Bolivian dishes and toned them down for the mild palettes of the biochemists. She had to admit, though, that she was hungry, and leaned forward to scoop some of the dish.

It was nearly impossibly eat and keep from being exposed. Choosing the lesser of two evils, Summer let her legs drop from her chest, crossing them to hide her pussy. Mancocapac certainly noticed the now-evident breasts, but everyone else kept eating with little fuss made.

The llajhua was excruciatingly spicy, and Summer immediately reached for the beverage that Chasca had set down in front of her. Though the liquid was not anything that Summer had ever tasted before, she swallowed it down quickly.

"Slow down," Otoniel cautioned her. "That's aqha, corn beer. It has alcohol in it."

The group around the naked American burst into laughter, finding the sight of Summer desperately trying to get the spices out of her mouth outrageously funny. Yana, however, fetched another dish for her guest, setting down another bowl in front of her.

"No llajhua," she explained to the blonde. None of the hot spices.

Dinner rolled on, Summer becoming less and less inhibited about her nudity as she drank more and more aqha. They talked about Hanan Pacha, Babylon, and every in between. Summer finally worked up the courage to ask the question she'd been thinking about since the afternoon.

"Where are all the children?"

Otoniel translated the question, and the entire group got quiet. Apotequil, in a serious tone, explained everything to Otoniel, meeting Summer's eyes every now and then. Apparently, the women of Hanan Pacha, as well other surrounding Huaca villages, had not been able to get pregnant for some time. There were exceptions, of course, but the Huaca lived their lives afraid that they were being punished by the fertility goddess Sipusiki.

Summer, as a biologist, doubted that a native god had anything to do with infertility among the Huaca. Could it have been the water? Was the Clemente polluted with something? Was it their diet? She had a dozen different possible explanations, but there was little she good do but speculate.

By the end of dinner, Summer had a pleasant buzz, though she was far from drunk. Every now and then, she would forget about her nudity, but her inhibitions always came back. Her breasts were out there for anyone to see, her pussy on view every time she shifted her legs. Mancocapac, in particular, seemed to follow every shift, every movement made by the girl. Pachacamac and Apotequil weren't immune from the lure of naked white flesh, but they were less obvious in their glances, pretending as if nothing was out of the ordinary at this little dinner party.

Otoniel seemed to be having more difficulty, however. The translator made every effort to maintain eye contact with Summer, forcing himself to ignore the rest of her body. If Mancocapac was making her uncomfortable with his lascivious peeping, Otoniel was making her uncomfortable with his lack of such looks. Every time that he turned to talk to her, Summer was reminded that she was naked by his discomposure. Of all the men around the circle that night, Summer had to say that she felt the least awkward with the chief and the priest, both of whom were calm and casual.

Eventually, dinner ended, and the small gathering around naked, captive biologist dispersed. Chasca and Yana took the dirty dishes down to the Clemente, and Mancocapac said goodnight and disappeared down the street. Otoniel, giving a few last minute words of encouragement to Summer, excused himself with Kulli. He and Summer, together, had decided over dinner that he didn't need to stay with her all night. Kulli had extended an invitation into her home, offering to let the mestizo a place to stay in exchange for a small price. What that price was, Summer didn't know. But Kulli's hut was only about seventy-five feet away, meaning that Otoniel would be within earshot the entire night.

Apotequil and Pachacamac migrated a short distance away, settling down in a dark shadow not far from where Chasca and Yana were washing out bowls. Though Summer couldn't make out much more of them than their silhouettes, she could hear the low tones of the two men, murmuring back and forth to each other in their native tongue.

Summer herself wasn't looking forward to sleeping outside that night. She moved closer to the waterfall pool, sat down and began to clutch her knees to her knees to her chest. Her more private areas were on display in the direction of the pool, but as there was no one currently out there, that thought didn't concern her all that much. No, what bothered her more than anything was the dark. The sun had long since set, but up to that point she'd been surrounded by her translator and the Huaca. Even being naked around them, awkward though it may have been, seemed preferable to the spooky shadows, the sounds of the surrounding jungle, and the over-imaginative mind of the biologist herself.

A soft padding of footsteps began to approach Summer, and she readied herself to scream for Otoniel. But instead of Mancocapac coming back for a more physical examination of the blonde, Summer found herself staring up at Apotequil. For some reason, the priest's face seemed kind and trustworthy, and her racing heart began to calm. He showed her a big smile, and held out his hand. In it was a piece of twine, similar the one Pachacamac had given her earlier as a necklace. The piece of twine was significantly longer, however, and instead of jaguar teeth, there was a teardrop-shaped piece of metal attached as a pendant.

"Do I have to wear this, too?" Summer asked, annoyance plainly evident in the tone of her voice.

Apotequil didn't understand what she was saying, and she didn't understand the next few words that he spoke to her. But Summer managed to ascertain that he wanted her to stand so that he could put on the new piece of jewelry. Rather than fight him, Summer complied. Apotequil seemed honest enough; she didn't feel that she had much to worry about from him.

The twine was longer, Summer soon found out, because it was meant as a belly-chain, and not a necklace. The Indian man fastened it at the base of the blonde's naked back, the string hanging loosely over her naked hips. The pendant hung a little too low for Summer's liking, finding itself mixed up in her wild patch of pubic hair. Apotequil came around her, gave her a once over, and then turned back to where he had come from.

Summer was puzzled by what the belly-chain was for. The jaguar teeth necklace was to mark her as Pachacamac's property. She understood that. But the belly-chain and pendant were a mystery. She stood, staring down at the pendant for a few seconds, and puzzled over the possible meaning.

Apotequil had rejoined his chief a few dozen yards from Summer's position. Unlike before, though, she could now make out their faces in the light being cast from Pachacamac's pipe. Summer sat herself back down in front of the pool, trying to act as normal as possible. But every casual glance down the shore of the pool towards the river was met by two sets of eyes staring back up at her. Apotequil and Pachacamac suddenly seemed more interested in their day's prize.

Summer, oddly enough, experienced a dichotomy of emotions at the thought of the eyes on her body. She was at once disgusted by their perversion and embarrassed for herself, but also a little of some other emotion. Slightly shocked at herself, Summer had to admit that there was some part of her that felt a little turned on. She had never been the center of attention in high school, nor in college. She had always been the brain, the smart girl, and the good girl. It wasn't that Summer wasn't good looking - she was gorgeous - but she had always lacked that spark, that flirtiness and confidence in her body that attracted men to women not quite as attractive.

Now, thousands of miles from home, she was the focus of most of this little village. Even now, the eyes of the two most important men in Hanan Pacha were concentrated on her body. On her smooth, naked skin. On her round tits, and perky little nipples. On her tanned legs. On the pendant, hanging so close to a place so forbidden.

It was balmy in Hanan Pacha, warm enough that Summer wouldn't have to worry about being too cold to sleep. But her own body suddenly felt like it was radiating a significant amount of heat. She felt hot, even, as if the temperature along the pool had suddenly risen five or six degrees. She sat down in the dirt, her arms supporting her upper body behind her, and crossed her legs.

Down the shore of the pool, four eyes focused on her body through the dark.

Summer tried not to think about the chief and the priest. It had been a long, hard day. And it was going to be a few more long, hard days.

Was Pachacamac hard? What about the priest? What was going through their minds at that moment? Were they thinking about being wrapped with Summer's body? Were they wondering what it was like to be with a white girl? These questions rang through Summer's mind, as she herself formed mental pictures to accompany them.

She shook her head, wondering where all these thoughts were coming from. She leaned back, uncrossed her legs, and laid flat on her back, her knees still raised. Staring up at the stars, Summer began thinking about Walter and Russ, speeding along dirt roads and overgrown streets all the way to Guayaramerin. They would have been hard-pressed for time, even if the roads had been paved and clear, but things were hardly ever that easy in the far corner of Bolivia. But even as she thought of her friends, her mind drifted back upon everything that happened that day. She had undressed in a field. She had paraded naked through the center of this small, Indian town.

Back down the shore, the two men's faces, lit from the pipe, were still staring in her direction. They exchanged a few words between them, and then Apotequil stood. He strolled casually back along the shoreline to where Summer was laying in the dirt.

Summer's mind was still adrift, and she found herself absentmindedly fingering her necklace, running her hands beneath the twine and along the bare skin of her neck. She hadn't even realized that she was doing it, until she straightened up at the prospect of the priest reapproaching her. Apotequil grinned at the girl, crouched down along side her, and motioned for her to roll over. He wanted the belly-chain back.

Summer complied, rolling onto her right hip and allowing the Huaca man to unfasten the piece of jewelry. After he had done so, she rolled back into her original position, staring up at Apotequil and the night sky beyond him. He smiled again, stood, and walked back to his chief with the pendant in his hand. Summer stared after him, the mental picture of his body wrapped with hers still fresh in her mind.

***

Summer awoke the next morning with a shock, feeling a hand on her naked shoulder.

She was lying on her right side, her legs curled up towards her body, with her back facing the village behind her. Despite not having a pillow, or a sleeping mat, or even clothes, Summer had slept relatively well. Throughout most her time in Bolivia, Summer had struggled to fall asleep each night, finding it difficult to rest in the heat and mugginess of Valle de los Reyes. But last night, whether it was because of the alcohol or the lack of covering, Summer had slipped easily into unconsciousness, and hadn't awoken until she felt the hand on her shoulder.

Jerking away instinctively, Summer rolled to face whoever it was that was touching her. Her left leg was tangled in the chain, but the biologist put enough distance between herself and the unknown person to allow her to turn around and see who it was.

Otoniel.

"Relax, Doctor Monroe," the translator tried to calm her. "It is only me."

Summer's heart was beating fast, her bare chest heaving in a panic. For a few seconds, all she had been able to concentrate on was that someone strange was touching her. Now, the realities of her nudity set in.

Covering her tits with her forearm, Summer asked, "What time is it?" She was sitting on her ass in the dirt, her pale flesh covered with sand and dust. Her hair was a tangled mess, filled with more of the same. She brushed dirt from her right cheek as she looked to the mestizo, awaiting his answer.

"It is five o'clock," Otoniel replied. "I am leaving for the camp, unless you want me to stay."

It was dark out, the sun still beyond the horizon. Despite that, Summer could see a few people milling about in the street of the village, carrying pots full of water or various farming tools.

Summer shook the cobwebs from her head, still more asleep than awake. "No, no. Check on Walter. I'll feel a lot better if I know that he's okay."

Footsteps began to patter closer to the American and the translator, and Summer looked beyond Otoniel to a familiar face - Kulli. But Kulli was wearing something that was familiar as well - Summer's white polo shirt. There was an exchange between Otoniel and Kulli, the Huaca woman giving a small package of food to Otoniel for his hike back to the Ambrosia camp. She smiled politely at Summer, but left the two outsiders alone after she had finished her business with the man.

Summer's eyes asked Otoniel what she wanted to know.

"Your shirt," Otoniel answered without ever hearing the question. "Nothing with the Huaca is free. I traded your shirt for a sleeping mat in Kulli's home."

The blonde stared after the Indian woman, dressed in an Ambrosia Pharmaceuticals polo shirt and a thin, native skirt.

"I'll pick you up more clothes from camp," Otoniel assured her. "And a couple of other things that I can trade with, so I'm not relying on your clothes again."

Summer nodded. Her mind drifted from the polo shirt back to her colleagues, who were racing toward Guayaramerin at that point. They'd probably been driving all night, afraid to go too fast in fear of slamming into a downed tree across the road, but afraid to go too slow in fear of losing Walter. Anqas, Punchau, and Russ were doing everything in their power to keep Walter alive, and Summer was back in Hanan Pacha, worried about a native woman wearing her shirt.

"Don't tell Russ about this," Summer said slowly.

"Que?" Otoniel asked, confused.

"Don't tell him," Summer repeated. Her eyes locked with Otoniel's, and she repeated herself one more time, "don't tell him. He's got enough to worry about with Walter, and the last thing he needs right now is one more burden. He can't turn around. He can't send someone back. There's nothing he can do, and it's just one more thing to worry about."

"But Doctor Monroe-"

"I'm serious, Otoniel." Summer looked down at her naked body, and then back up at the translator. "My self-consciousness really doesn't seem that important, given Walter's situation."

Otoniel nodded silently.

"Besides," the blonde offered weakly, "everyone in town has already seen me naked, right? What difference does it make if they get a second or third look?"

The translator was obviously conflicted, but Summer knew that deep down, he realized that she was right. They exchanged a few more words, Otoniel making sure that she would be okay with him gone, and then parted ways. As the first hints of sunshine began to appear beyond the eastern end of Hanan Pacha, the translator was already making his way into the jungle and back towards their camp.

The sun eventually broke the horizon, and the village came alive. While early risers had already gotten water and set out into the fields, the rest of the Huaca were only now joining them. Women, some of them as naked as Summer from the waist up, trudged towards the pool with buckets and jugs. Many of them waded right in, some of them dipping their hair and washing parts of their body. As they passed Summer, many of the women shot her nervous smiles, as well as the word, "Raphi!"

After a short while, Summer realized that "raphi" must have meant "hello," and began to respond in kind. This elicited a few giggles from the young women, and a few more complicated responses that Summer hadn't been expecting.

Still sitting in the dirt next to Pachacamac's hut, the naked blonde watched the town come alive. Men, dressed in native robes or more Western clothes departed from their homes out in the direction of the fields. A few others went about work around their houses, casting occasional glances down the road towards the American girl by the pool. By that point, Summer had dropped her arm from her chest, knowing that modesty was simply impossible, and that confidence was really the only way to get through however long she was going to be stuck in Hanan Pacha.

The odd blend of excitement and embarrassment from the previous night hadn't completely subsided. Though it seemed perverse, Summer had to come to grips with the fact that a part of her was somewhat excited about the nonchalant glimpses that the men took of her body. She, Summer Monroe, was not just a brain. She wasn't a biologist. She wasn't a college graduate, or PhD. She was a set of tits and pussy, to be looked upon with nothing but lust.

These men didn't know her. They'd never talked to her. All they had to judge her on were her physical features. And the attraction that they showed gave Summer some bit of pride, made her feel sexier than usual.

All this, of course, in addition to being mortified about sitting naked in a public place, moored to the ground with an old metal chain and a combination lock. No, this was not some sort of erotic dream; it was a shame-filled, uncomfortable situation that Summer wanted over.

Going to the bathroom, for instance, left Summer divided on what to do. The simple - and least embarrassing - solution was to wade out into the pool, and to relieve herself under the cover of the water. But even though the women of Hanan Pacha were rinsing themselves off in the waterfall's pool, Summer didn't think that she could piss in the town's drinking water. Instead, she waited for the least amount of eyes upon her, walked as far away as she could from both the town and the pool, and squatted. A small group of giggling twenty-something year old girls caught her, but Summer escaped this time mostly unseen.