Pygmies

Rest at last, she thought to herself as they sat by the camp fire, finishing off their meals of curreid goat jerkie, maize-pudding and palm-wine, and settling down for what was to be their fourth night in the bush. She stretched her kahki-trousered legs out across the ground as Mkwambe, a local tobacco farmer and her chief guide for the journey, poked absently at the fire with a stick and puffed thoughtfully on his pipe. The air was thick with the sounds of crickets from somewhere within the dark depths of tree-packed foilage- the 'bush', which surrounded them beyond the orange light of the camp-fire. The other two rangers had already pitched the tents, and were tidying up, checking the camp for venomous animals and chatting contentedly to eachother..

After a long journey from Matwele, the provincial capital, by light aircraft and then jeep and then days of endless hours of trekking mostly uphill through the mountainous and heavily jungled region, they were now deep in the territory of the rarely seen tribal group known locally as the Ehge Ki'Yguru.

The Ehge people were what westerners commonly referred to as pygmies, and had an average adult male hieght of around five foot. The Eghe had for hundreds of generations lived the hunter/gatherer lifestyle in the regions bushy and subsistance-unfarmable wilderness. This mountainous area of the country was a protien-poor environment with very few large animals, this meant the Eghe diet (apart from fruits and berries and nuts) consisted mainly of rodents, small-monkeys, a rare species of antellope that grew to the about the size of a dog and some of the larger 'worth-while' varieties of insect life. Thousands of years of this kind of eating was generally believed to be the cause of the Eghe's dimunative stature.

The Ehge people consisted of about twenty tribes, nineteen of which had been officialy contacted by the countries government and fellow anthropologists years before (the last, the Ki'Mosu, having been contacted back in 1978).

The Ki'Yguru were the only known Ehge group not yet officialy contacted by any body other then the local tobacco-farmers who were their closest neighbours, and occasionaly reported seeing Ki'Yguru hunters gorping at them from amongst the trees as the farmers tended their harvests. But whenever the farmers appraoched, the Ki'Yguru would melt silently back into the bush, like the illusions of shadows, rarely to be seen again. This was how they got the name given to them by the general community, 'Ehge Ki'Yguru' translating roughly into 'Shady Little Voyuers'.

Dr Sarah Jane Gudhinter intended to make the Ki'Yguru the focus of her thesis on uncontacted indiginous peoples. She had left Canada mere weeks before, determined to spend her six month sabatical in attempting to contact the tribe, half her time had already been spent arranging the funding for the trip. Now she was here, independantly in the field (deepest Africa), and tomorrow they would begin searching for the Ki'Yguru in earnest. She sighed wistfully. Feeling ready to sleep, she eased herself up, said good-night to Mkwambe and the others, and went to bed dreaming of the respect her peers would attribute her if she succeded. She was only twenty one, a prodigy no less- but with alot to prove.

Mkwambe's eyes followed the woman reluctantly as she left, he was a married man with seven kids and faithfull to his wife, but it was difficult not to look. Sarah was fantasticaly beutiful for any man that could see through 'plain'. Her slender figure, the shoulder-length brownish-blonde hair that she wore in a ponytail, her flawless lightly freckled pale-white skin and large grey rust-speckled eyes combined to make Sarah a stunning example of an academic young woman. She often wore thin rimmed glasses that suited her fine-boned handsome/pretty germanic features, but her self-image was generally plain and even in Canada she rarely wore makeup.

However she also loved to swim, ski, and ride horses back home. All of which gave her the figure of a dancer, full curves, a slender waist, perky modest sized breasts, long sinuous limbs and a gracefuly long neck.

Mkwambe smiled to himself, some young man would be very lucky one day, or some young man was already very foolish to have let her out of his sight. He chuckled quietly, and then began to hum an old folk melody, rocking gently on his haunches as he continued to smoke his pipe.

"""

She awoke with a start, the tent was completely dark, and the crickets were maintaining their drone. Something had awoken her.

She got the torch, dressed in her kahki safari-trousers and a teeshirt she wore with the sleeves rolled up to her shoulders, having followed Mkwambe's advice to sleep fully dressed (well, minus her safari-jacket, sandals and cap). After checking her tent for scorpions, snakes, lizards or rats, she put on her walking-sandals and egressed the tent to look around outside.

"Mkwambe?" she called, sweeping the torches beam across the campsite. The fire was smouldering, with the slouched figure of one of the guides beside it. She appraoched closer, and found it was Mkwambe, commotose and with a tiny arrow sticking out of his neck. Suddenly afraid she rushed towards the other tent, and noticed the sprawled bodies of the other two guides, twig-like arrows pertruded also from them.

She stopped, listened, the crickets chorus shrilled on.

She dashed back to her tent, grabed the shotgun and came out again. Her eyes were beginning to adjust to the darkness, and as she peered into it, wondering whether she should get the radio and call for help, she began to make out forms beyond the week light of the campfire. The torchlight revealed dark, child-sized black men with white tiger-stripes finger-painted across their skin. They stared back at her impassively, holding long slender things that looked like spears. She froze again. Several thoughts rushed through her mind in less then several seconds, amongst them; whether to shoot in the air or say hello.

In those slow moments she noticed one of them raise his 'spear' to his mouth, with the other end pointed at her.

"Khiei!" she called in greeting, but then there was an ubrupt hollow sound and a sudden sting in her fore-arm. She looked at it in shock, her grip on the shotgun loosened unconciously when she saw the dart stuck there. She looked up, the pygmies were moving towards her, about seven of them- maybe more, forming a semi circle around her. Her head began to spin, she took a step back, bought the gun up again, felt suddenly immensely giddy (stronger then the rush of the potent skunkweed she'd occasionaly smoked in college)

She dropped the torch, touched her temple, dropped the shotgun, passed out.

"""

Drumming.

She was lying on her back, quite uncomfortably on her back, and there was drumming. Her eyes opened, and gradually as her head cleared she realised she was staring at the starry sky. She tried to move, but her hands were tied, her ankles were also tied down, drawing her body out in a star shape across what felt like a flat surface made of thin wooden poles, similar to a section of fence, or a rack.

"Okay" she told herself as the drumming rolled on "I'm in the middle of Africa, in the middle of a rainforest, tied-up, and surrounded by pygmies. Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck..." she started to break down, but quikly pulled herself together "Okay, okay this is why I came" she said to herself, manically cheerful for an moment."Okay, I'll speak to them, I can speak Ki'Mosu, they'll understand me, they probably have... clan-based interactions with the Mosu... cousin-relationships, they probably trade with eachover in the past..." she was speaking in a halting, shaking voice, but as her scientific mind started to function and she began to calm down, talking herself out of the panick-attack through the familiar process of speculation. She licked her lips and began speaking to them in the Ki'Mosu language;

"Khiei? Khiei? se... se sulu te ti boh..." Hello, hello I come to make greetings...

The drumming continued its steady beat

"Ygyn... Ygyn se naiubu taya kyri?" Why have you distressed me, I am detained.

The drumming suddenly stopped. Perhaps she was getting somewhere.

"Engengeh... totoh se suluhu... hoboh" Please, let me go for that we have love for eachover.

Her Ki'Mosu was halting, but she was distantly proud of herself. She had learnt the language in the months leading up to her trip- and since arriving in country had improved her knowledge in a brief refresher course at the national university, where the Eghe language group was still being actively studied and documented. She was sure the unseen drummers had understood her, although she was unsure of her gramma and inflection.

There was a hush, suddenly the rack she was tied to began to move, tilting upward, she could hear grunts from the somewhere above and behind her, indicating her rack was being pushed and hauled up. As this happened, her surroundings came into view.

Tens of small round black faces gazed up at her, they were crouched down and gathered in a semi-circular group that started a few meters away (the front row consisting of drummers), and reaching back into darkness. She could make out dome shaped structures back there, like giant baskets, which she realized were their huts. The scene was lit by firelight from several raised sources, clearly lighting the area in restless yellows.

Between the starring crowd and her, stood a childsized figure wearing a huge and fearsome mask. It had feathers and palm-fronds around the rim, and had a gap beneath its 'nose' area (through which she could see the pygmy's mouth, chest and lower body) which curved apart to look like cheeks and jowls. It was bright red and black with large fierce eyes and almost obscured the pygmies entire body, which now stood waving a carved wooden staff.

"Okay.." she said nervously "an official of some kind... a politician, a communicator... man-of-words, erm..." said Sarah, hopefully, thinking at speed.

"Ahaaaka! Ahanka nanan hahagi amumu eke!" declared the mask in a loud reedy voice and waving his arms and staff.
She concentrated furiously, translating in her head as he spoke;

"See all you! See how the Nature has revealed this white fertility spirit to us!"

"Oh no..." she whispered to herself, not liking where this was going. He continued talk, and she continued to keenly listen;

"See how the Nature has bestowed upon us this rarest of beings, we must show our love for the Nature by servicing the wounderous White Djinn with the man-compultions of our strongest hunters!"

Sarah was both horrified and fascinated, on the one hand the pygmies clearly planned to engage in some kind of sex ritual with her, but on the other hand her scientific self knew she was witnessing the first contact between this ancient hunter/gatherer culture and a white person, something they had clearly never seen before, and she had already learned more about their religion then anyone else in the entire anthrapological community.

"We will start by showing the Moon Elf our devotion!" continued the shaman "Manly Master of the Hunters Lodge! step forward that you may make homage to the Djinns Sacred Vagina!"

A large, modestly bot-bellied pygmy (about the size of a twelve year old boy but with the tightly muscled body of very physical man) stood up from amongst the front row, his black skin painted with white tiger stripes. His eyes goggled wide at her as he approached the shaman with some degree of nervous trepidation.

"Master of the Lodge!" demanded the shaman in the mask "Take Herb of Red Sensuality, that the Moon-Being may not curse us for our forwardness!" and with that the shaman sprinkled something powdery and red into the larger pygmies cupped hands. The Master of the Lodge started licking the red dusty substance up eagerly, stood for a moment, swayed as if slightly drunk, shook his head rapidly and then started to approach her- looking alot more eager. The drums began again.

She squirmed and started to struggle again, she felt alot less threatened now for some reason, but that didn't quite mean she was ready to be molested by a crowd of pygmies. She still had all her clothes on, and with any luck this would confuse the skantily-clad bushmen, who would not be used to handling anything more complicated then a loin-cloth.

The Master of the Lodge stood before her, raised up on the rack as she was, the Masters face was exactly level with her crotch. He took hold of her hips, fingers curling into her slacks, and started to tug.

"Listen buddy..." said Sarah somewhere in the manic zone between horror and amusement "if you wanna get into my pants you're gonna have to get my cooperation first..." the Master- grunting and with a determined expression on his face, continued to tug and pull at her snuggly belted kahki slacks. Her body jerked forward at the waist with every tug, and her flat belly and hips started to show.

Having remained mostly covered up since she'd left Canada, the skin under her clothes was still winter white, and less tanned then her hands and arms and face (and even they were still very pale). The effect of this when her flat, snow-white belly and hips were revealed made the Master hesitate for a moment, stepping back and drawing a breath. She could now see his penis- rapidly hardening and definately the size of a mans (a large man at that) rising to poke out from under his loin-cloth, but strangely, The Master hung back.

He's afraid, realised Sarah, despite his evident arousal the Master was afraid of her

"Do not be afraid of the overworldly bieuty of the Moon-Elf!" advised the masked shaman gleefully, now dancing and shuddering to the sound of the drums
"the Nature makes her white skin for her life on the moon! That she may glow and be seen by the Star Leopards in the sky! that we may recognize her Elfly Ways!"

Sarah decided she would speak for herself and gain control of the situation
"Moon-Elf, do not touch ungrateful women! or without dicks in flight!" she shrieked. The Master blinked in confusion for a second, before smiling in a friendly and agreeable way (red dust smeared over his mouth) and resuming his battle with her slacks. For a moment she was puzzled, what she thought she'd said was "Do not touch Moon-Elf, I do not want your gifts, I'll make your dicks fall off".

The Master withdrew a small piece of stone with one hand, a sharp piece of flint from a small pocket-like sack at the side of his loin-cloth (stone tool-users, amazing! thought her scientific mind unhelpfully). He was about to start cutting her trousers open when they suddenly slid down, revealing her nickers, streteched awkwardly across her plainly visible white pussy. The blond pubes on her tightly clenched mound glinted subtly in the fire-light, her pussy peaking over her trousers belted waistband. Becous her legs were spread apart, the trousers could not be forced down any lower, already her hips felt red from friction burns.

The Master wasted no more time, as his people looked on, he flung the flint aside and plunged his face between her legs, and started to force his tongue into her vagina. She grunted and tried to struggle some more, feeling not so much distressed by the little black pygmy as defiant of his attempts to penetrate her. He gripped her hips though, holding her steady as his tongue started to move around her inside vagina. The cunnilingus was strangely purposefull at first, as if he wastn't quite licking for pleasure (not that anyone ever had licked her for pleasure) but with intent. Soon she began to feel a peppery sensation in her pussy and against her skin where The Masters tongue had been. He continued to hungrily lick, suck and kiss her resistant pussy for several minutes, and gradualy a change started to occur.

At first she thought the pygmy had applied chilly powder to her vagina with his mouth- but the pepperiness soon faded and was replaced by the intensely pleasurable awarness of his mouth against her skin. Her body was becoming enthused with a huge sensual thrill eminating from the little pygmies mouth, and its now luxureantly deep and indulgant licking and sucking of her pussy. She moaned despite herself.

The Pygmy's teeth were small but very sharp, having been filed untill pointed. He nipped her labia lightly with them (not breaking her skin), several minutes of the pleasure/pain feel of this thrilled her so much she had spontanious female ejaculation. She-cum splashed from her mound over the waistband and squirted into the pussy-hungry pygmy's face. The dimunative black man continued his cunnilingus, pushing his tongue against her g-spot, and gently pulling at her clit with his sharp teeth and tongue, she squeeled in delight.

The drumming got louder.

"The White Djinn grows pleased with our efforts!" informed the masked shaman loudly, turning dramaticaly from the round-eyed faces of the crowd of pygmies and the ever more writhing sensuality of Sarah's body, strapped to the rack- with the little black man before her, his face rubbing energeticaly into her bare white crotch. The wide milky white hips before his franticly nodding black head, her white skin contrasting strongly with the small ebony fingers that gripped her hips so firmly.

Within minutes Sarah had gone from a state of curiously unthreatened but determined resistance, to an all consuming sexual exctasy that made her want to spread her legs as wide as possible and franticly thrust her pussy into the face of the little pygmy forever, so much so- she was afraid she'd suffocate him with her hungry mound if she was to let loose.

She moaned and thrust as far as she could as he gorged on her mound, she was apparently delerious now, but her senses were more acute then they'd ever been. She was aware of every pygmy in th village, every cricket that shrilled in the bush, every isolated call of some other night creature out in the jungle, every shift of air-pressure as the masked shaman danced and every drum-beat pounded by the pygmy drummers of the Ki'Yguru Hunters Lodge.

She could feel their awe as they watched their 'Moon-Elf' in full sexual arousal, this strange alien being from an unseen world powering up for some grand display of natures mysterious grandeur. It was then that she realised they loved her, were in awe of her, the White Djinn. For some reason their naive and simplistic world view- and her place in it, sent her crazy with mad verocious lust.

"Untie me!" she cried "Untie me so I can fuck you properly you little butt-muppets, you little fucking-" she almost sneered, struggling to find the word to describe her fierce sense of filthy-hard sexual ownership for the little pygmy tribesmen.

"Her power grows!" cried the masked-shaman, stamping his feet rapidly as if running on the spot, pointing theatrically at Sarah, before dancing rapidly around in a circle, shaking his wooden staff all the while. "See how the Djinn cries out for your adoration!"

"Aaaarghhhh!" cried the 'Djinn' in pleasure, her long blond hair flailing wetly with sweat, and shinning metallic gold in the fire-light "Shut the Fuck up and make them FUCK ME!" cried Sarah. Her pussy-juice was flowing liberally down her legs and into her trousers, most of it being lapped up at source by the face of the eager pygmy Lodge Master whose now fully erect and very large cock swung like a piece of wood in front of him (although it hadn't once touched her body yet)

"Remove the White Djinn from the Safety-Apparatus!" commanded the shaman, having abrubtly stopped his mad dance around the clearing
"I must sodomise the Djinn! And endure the dangerous forces of her sexual unleashment!"

Sarah was lowered back to the horizontal, seeing the crowd of awe struck onlookers disapear beneath her direct line of sight, and staring again at the sky. The Master of the Lodge's tongue stayed with her pussy all the way down, untill he was licking her pussy (like a dog drinking water) as if she lay on a table. Other pigmies came and untied her restraints