My Own Home

The jungle was seemingly quiet that day. Arid, lightly sweltering, only a few noises of wind and animal noises in the distance. For some jungle dwellers, these conditions were too quiet, as if the jungle itself was lying in wait, silent only in anticipation of an arresting event.

Sharp, animalistic eyes watched from trees carefully, waiting as the jungle did, until something emerged from the clearing, straight to a small pool of water, close enough to the edge of the forest for humankind to brave and use the water source. Ears alerted eyes to a figure stepping into view, the figure of an adult human. An adult female. If those details weren't unique enough, this woman seemed positively jubilant, a spring in her step, a care-free walk, a spirit happy enough to sing a pleasant song along her way to the water. The eyes and ears were attached to a head that shook in slight disbelief, and more amusement than he would care to admit.

Mowgli watched carefully as his wife Shanti made her way to the pool, not at all unlike their first meeting as children. More than 20 years had passed, yet so little had truly changed. Despite all the civility the man-village had tried to program into him over the years, the spirit of being a true citizen of the jungle never went away, making it easy to brave back into the thick of it much more often than any known boy or man. And despite everything she'd seen being linked to Mowgli, the occasional jungle adventures or rescues, and contending with a lover caught between two worlds, she remained the high-spirited counterpart that could still mystified the man-cub daily.

Plenty of important changes were distinct in their lives; as the years progressed, when it came to the jungle, he'd grown wiser, more careful, nearly enough to make his former guardian panther proud. Whereas she, particularly at their old meeting place, acted with no concern, as if there was no danger that could ever harm her, even if she said she knew better. Mowgli wondered, annoyingly, whether she knew it was ok to be so nonchalant with him keeping watch for predators and perils at that moment, ensuring her safety while hidden.

He watched her movements carefully, the slow hip sway of her womanly curves, carrying the water basket with grace, dancing with it as if it were her husband in her arms, holding his muscular, athletic body close, in awe of the man able-bodied enough to contend with most of the animal kingdom by himself. The pretty vocals filled the area with a musical lilt that always closed the distance between the married couple, emotionally, physically, soulfully. As it was in his youth, some of the notes made the corners of his mouth twitch upwards, slowly succumbing to the smile she always effortlessly produced, even with all too familiar lyrics.

"Doesn't she know any other songs?" he laughed quietly to himself, easily recognizing the tone and words being sung since she'd appeared, in the clearing that day, and in his life. So taken by the classic, overused song, a creeping sensation coming at his feet didn't seem as noticeable. Telling himself he was there to protect her, and that he had enough awareness to protect himself, lying carefully on the strong tree branch felt easier and easier. How good the feeling coming to him kept him from interpreting it as some kind of threat. Years of sharpening awareness and gaining knowledge hadn't managed for his body and mind to fight off pleasurable feelings like he knew it should. Some primal calls were too seductive, a fact Mowgli was occasionally still reminded of, as one of them practically slithered its way up his calves, knees, thighs, and continually higher. It relaxed every muscle it touched, not enough to make it lax and loose, but softening it to a point he could enjoy, small twitches of pleasure overtaking his body the more he felt covered by the sensation, aware of little else but it and Shanti's singing.

Lulled parts of Mowgli convinced him of everything being alright, nothing amiss, that his reaction was natural and right, as good and as intended as a warm rain, a tasty jungle morsel, or a lovely embrace. The what, the why, the how didn't seem to matter. Existence shrunk to protection, and his wife. She was alright, so he was alright, both protected, and how wonderful the assurance of protection was. The hum and every other word of her song roamed his head as the feeling spread throughout his body.

***

"My own home,

My own home,

My own home,

My own home

Hmmm...

Ooooh...

Hmmm...

Ooooh...

Hmmm...

My own home

Father's hunting in the forest,

Mother's cooking in the home,

I must go to fetch the water,

Till the day that I am grown.

Till I'm grown,

Till I'm grown.

I must go to fetch the water,

Till the day that I am grown."

Shanti remembered that day well, perhaps her most distinct memory in life - the boy in red loincloth, looking at her with such wonder, as she looked up to see him, an expression born of imagining the adult life she would have, with a handsome husband. Fate's occasional bluntness, while fortunately kind and generous, gave her a glimpse at her future, leaving it in her hands to seize it.

She never told Mowgli, but she was as taken as he was that day, fascinated by the sight of the boy in the reflective pool. She hid it better than he ever could once she acknowledged his presence, mimicking the seduction she'd seen women in her village use to hook a man, wrangling the eye of the cutest boy she'd ever seen, that grew into the most attractive man her primal id could've hoped for. His looks were a true blessing, but adult, married Shanti smiled at how much else about him was made up of her cultivation.

***

"Should we head back? Someone might get worried."

"Nah, if they want to find us, they can sniff us out," 19-year-old Mowgli reasoned, making his companion giggle, as they spent time in their old, secluded jungle fort. It was a structure they made together of leaves and limbs, untouched by animals and man, at the jungle's edge for Mowgli's pleasure, but close enough to the village for Shanti's comfort.

Growing up together, learning and experiencing things as only you could with a boy raised by wolves, one of the undisputed truths she'd learned was never questioned - there was no animal in the world wilder than Mowgli. She'd seen other wild beasts from the jungle tamed in man's world, eventually. Deep in greenery uncharted by humans, she'd seen animals act positively civilized by comparison to the infamous man-cub. With all his human upbringing, Mowgli could never let his wild spirit connection to the jungle go. It was a stronger pull to his senses than anything else, stronger than her pleas to stay among men, stronger than even some temptations the jungle itself held.

Shanti watched him, watching the jungle, admiring the confidence in the face of the unknown. Other males had to put on brave faces, but Mowgli still regarded it as a place he belonged.

"C'mon, I want to finally teach you how to swing in the trees."

"You're kidding. With this dress?"

"You'll have to take some of it off for the lesson, yeah," he didn't look her way as he spoke the unintended flirtation. Shanti giggled again at how going through puberty, hormones, admittedly having feelings for her, and he could still miss what sounded like an advance on someone waiting to receive it.

It was one of the most frustrating things, and something she still loved about him the most - that lust for adventure above all else. Eventually, she had to admit that she never fought as hard as she could to steer him away from the jungle because she loved that passion he had for it, even wanting to be the focus of that passion.

"You'd better go on without me; as fun as that sounds, I don't think I'm ready for that lesson today."

"Well, I could do a little bit of swinging, and circle back to you in a jiff."

To her surprise, no matter how many times he ran away back to the jungle, he always came back, came back to her. When he was absent, she would return to that water source, to hope to draw him back to her. The way he always returned, it was a routine she could trust in. There was a draw, almost reminiscent to what she learned of the power the python Kaa had with those colorful eyes. More than just hearing about them, she'd experienced them once in a very close call before she could become an unresisting, hearty meal. Those draws combined, Shanti found that Mowgli, Kaa, and the jungle had taught her something she secretly fell in-love with - control.

"Or...you could stay with me here a little longer, just enjoy some more time together," something in her voice was suggestive in a way he wasn't totally willing to assume.

"Some quiet time?"

"Maybe not quiet, but certainly enjoyable."

Kaa's hypnosis, the way Mowgli first reacted to her singing, and continued to, sparked her own fiery passion, sheltered and fueled in little ways over the years. Shanti let her beautiful song fill Mowgli's ears constantly over the years, happy to share her most practiced talent with her friend, who always gave the most heartfelt and honest reactions. It remained a constant into their beginning adulthood, when she pretended to affect him with it, pretending less and less once she started, until she realized he responded to it routinely, helplessly, in ways he never even realized. She always sang the old melody to him, but for fun, slowly adding subtle, seductive lilts and hints to her voice, she occasionally changed the lyrics to see the effect.

"Mowgli is so very active,

always searching for a thrill.

But maybe he'll find a lovely joy,

when I ask him to stand still."

At his side, singing between both ears, she let her gentle touches down his arms and vocals overwhelm the muscles ready to explore, until they settled, beginning to even sag.

"Staaand still,

Staaand still,

Staaand stilllll,

Staaand still."

To her breathless, child-like glee, Mowgli did exactly that. He stood absently at attention for long minutes, unable to move, forgetting the ability was available as he was more concerned with her suggestive hymn, until one of them suggestively released him. It didn't feel unnatural to respond like she wanted; he favored and trusted her more than any person standing on two legs since residing in the man-village. That coupled with the pleasantness of her song left him what felt like playfully bound to what she bid of him. He laughed at the whole affair, believed to just playing along; he continued to do it as she suggested in song that they return to the village. Without a trace of disappointment or complaining, he followed her lead on the path back to the village.

It wasn't long before Shanti continued to experiment more, after calling him over to her parent's domicile to help with her usual chores.

"I know I have them to do, but I'm so tired of that today," she half-feigned. "Such a dilemma, knowing they need to be done, but wanting to really do something else."

Before he could get his predictable jungle trek suggestion out of his mouth, she followed up quickly. "How about a song?"

"Another song? You know you could always sing while you work."

"Maybe singing will help with motivating..." he half-smiled as stood at Mowgli's side, draping her arms over broad shoulders, leaning her head to sing in each ear again.

"The boy I see so lost now,

daytime breathing evening snores,

but he'll become so very happy,

when he's asked to do my chores.

Years of conditioning let him become pacified, more attention given to the voice instead of the words. His eyes slightly unfocused more and more as both ears felt her breath and lyrics croon.

"Dooooo my chores,

Dooooo my chores,

Dooooo my choooores,

Dooooo my chores."

Absolutely nothing seemed awry to Mowgli, sweeping, cleaning, arranging things neatly like she's been trained to do for years. He'd also been trained for years to respond to, and give his full, polite attention to her singing, so it seemed quite odd to him why the act would make her grin beamingly, mischievously, as she sang through his doing her chores and reminding him that he still had his own chores to do after finishing hers.

It was those more frequent moments of her randomly singing moods where he wanted to question her curious expressions. Bringing up his latest jungle excursion to Shanti, her fascination seemed to peak at a key phrase.

"What did you say?" Shanti interrupted him.

"What? About thinking I'd thought some rustling of the leaves in the trees was Kaa and not some orangutangs messing around? They got a good laugh out of that one."

Realization followed by inspiration came over her when she smiled as if at her own dumb grin.

"What? You're gonna laugh too?"

"No, no. I was...just thinking how lucky you were that it wasn't Kaa. You've had some close calls with him."

"I can handle him better now, but he never makes it easy. I always need my wits sharp around him."

"Aren't you happy they don't need to be sharp around me?"

"I don't know...maybe I need to keep my eyes closed around you too," he teased.

Shanti pressed closer to her seated friend.

"Oh, I don't think you can protect your eyes when you can't even protect your ears..." she teased back, nearly making him laugh for how cute she sounded when trying to be evil. She prided herself in anticipating raising his hands to cover his head somehow, holding his hands, extending warmth through touch as her voice began to fill the rest of him with warmth with another rhyme from his girl friend, a song about the jungle tales he told her, highlighting one part in particular.

"Oh my, that snake was crafty,

colors such a deep surprise.

But did you know there is the same bliss,

when you look in Shanti's eyes?

Shaaaaanti's eyes,

Shaaaaanti's eyes,

Shaaaaanti's eeeeeyes,

Shaaaaanit's eyes."

Never before had Shanti felt so commanding, so powerful, holding, drawing Mowgli's slack-jawed gaze with an irresistible, simple force of staring that he didn't have the wherewithal to fight. There was always the abstract wonder over the years if Mowgli knew how suggestible he seemed to be, naturally or by her nurturing. Either way, it remained a funny, ironic contrast to his stubbornness, and wasn't given any more specific consideration until it became about giving him a direct point of fixation.

After repeating the hypnotic refrain several times, she used her soft, dreamy singsong to speak with her sleepily-affected companion. Pressing for details melodically, while merely humming her signature tune while he spoke, Mowgli's memory of what it was like to be hypnotized by Kaa, overpowered and made euphoric beyond belief, was thoroughly gauged.

"How did he approach you?" she singsonged.

"He...got close to me...hissing...all the time."

"mmmmm, mmmmhhmmm"

"mmmmm, mmmmhhmmm"

"Tried to pull away...gripped...wrapped me up...drew me closer with...his eyes...had to push...coils..off of my head...tricked...eyes..."

"mmmmm, mmmmhhhhhmmmmmm"

"mmmmm, mmmmhhmmm"

Mowgli remembered those hisses working in concert with the colors, when Kaa spoke, when Kaa sung to him. The potency of that power in his memory began to fade, hissing gently eroded, silenced by humming that had made a longer, gentler impression, until Shanti's humming was anchored to the idea of overwhelming power.

"What did his eyes do?" She knew full well, but wondered what her own prey thought of them, the closer he got to their full effect.

"Flowed...like rings or waves...of color...one after another...trying to follow..."

"What colors?" her lilt seemed so interested in hearing what he had to say, strengthening his need to remember.

"Yellow...blue...green...yellow..b-"

"Brown?" she sung in curiosity"

"No, but...green...yellow...blue...

"Brown," she uttered in his exact monotone.

"N-"

"What colors?" she interrupted.

"Yellow...blue-

"Brown," she uttered at the same time, leaving a confused mind to pit one color against another.

"What colors?" she demanded, seductively.

"Yellow...green...bro-blue...yellow...green...blue...brown...yellow...green...brown...blue...brown...y-yellow...brown...green...brown...brown...brooowwn."

Remembered waves of color turned into one solid, increasingly-compelling color to sink into, reframed by Shanti's simultaneous whispering her eye color amongst his words, while holding his gaze with an even more intense, smoldering stare that let him dive deep into the color of her eyes. Hissing and multicolored waves lost semblance of power in his mind, linked much closer to an insistent singsong and brown eyes. Even the wrapping of Kaa's coils while under paled compared to feeling Shanti's close proximity, sitting him Mowgli's lap, arms wrapped around him possessively, faces pressed together.

She user her own memory of Kaa's trance well to deepen Mowgli's; mere seconds into a pulsing, spinning gaze and the dark, drab world went away immediately, replaced with bright, flowing colors. She could feel herself latching onto her own hypnotized memory, but unlike Mowgli's mind lusting for the colors and that beautiful feeling, she wanted to produce that feeling, focused on that goal of creating a need only she could fill.

Mowgli's vulnerability to hypnotic trance transferred almost exclusively to Shanti, a fact she could see in his vacant eyes that just needed more of hers. She felt so drunk on power, her mouth leaned in to claim his, and he reciprocated as he instinctively knew it would please his controller, the woman that didn't need to sing about trust to own his.

She loved hearing him describe all that he else could remember, watching the descriptive words whittle away to shorter, incomplete sentences, until simply one-word statements slurred out, fully embracing his deepest trance state yet. She used that want to probe his mind deeper, pressing her gaze more intently to his eyes to cement linked fascination, reinforce the bliss of that feeling, connecting it between her eyes and voice, and the snake's old hold.

The memory of Kaa's effective power, even without the naturally-paralyzing spiraling tunnels of color, brought that dumb grin back to his older face, smiling like he was intoxicated at the sight and suggestion of Shanti's brown eyes. Shanti circled him like the snake would, walking away momentarily, then toward him with a wide-eyed intense stare, and walking away again to see him drawn to her like a sleepwalker to return to the new-found effect of her stare. Remembering her own time under hypnosis, Shanti carefully spend considerable time making sure that association between Kaa's hypnosis and Shanti's hypnosis was interwoven until it was like her eyes or her sung lyrics were a form of a tunnel of colors, transformed into endless, fascinating waves of euphoria from every note and every second spend swimming in deep brown, filling every mental crevice the serpent's colors would have. He was happy to sink into Shanti's influence every chance he got, allowing further programming to be accepted.

Shanti had realized for the first time in her life then what it meant to have real, palpable power over others. Women in a man's village had their traditional place and roles, mostly subject to man's every command. Yet the seemingly proper girl held dominion over the wildest animal known to her village, taming the creature no man or beast had before her save the snake, whose infamous power she now shared in her own way, appropriated, made it hers like Mowgli was to be hers.

***

"My own home,

My own home,

My own home,

My own home"

Shanti began the litany, knowing her lone audience would appreciate the nostalgic melody and lyrics.

"Father's hunting in the forest,

Mother's cooking in the home,