Tiki

Tiki flipped open the top of the Silver briefcase, smiling with satisfaction at the stacks of bundled $100 bills inside.

He snapped the lid closed, glancing down at the naked native girl nestled between his legs, furiously sucking on his now flaccid penis.

Bored, he pushed her away, got up and stretched. Stepping out of the hut into the damp and misty morning, he reached down and adjusted his shorts.

Time to head on down to the little work camp, have a brew.

Life was good. Ever since he had managed to be appointed the officer in charge for the local Native group, it had been good.

Tiki's job was to assure they kept their native culture as the timber workers harvested their way through the rain forest.

It hadn't taken him long to get control of the situation. The company of course wanted to clear cut, then burn the slash. Farmers moved right in behind, getting about 3 seasons before being forced to move on as the thin layer of topsoil would no longer produce. Most of the time the locals were just in the way.

As a native, well, 50% blood anyway, he was a perfect fit for the job. That was what the administration thought but they were all thousands of miles away.

Tiki put on a dirty T-shirt, headed off down the trail with the Silver case. The log bridge across the creek groaned a bit with his weight but held. Tiki was a large man, over 300 pounds, a good 50 or more of it excess. He glanced down at the once clear stream, now running fast and muddy. Laboring his way up the other side of the hill, he stepped out into a clearing. There sat the big 4 X 4 GMC truck, 454 engine. He liked it, had been delighted when the company had given it to him.

He liked the way it thundered to life, no mufflers, no catalytic converter, just big 3" straight dual pipes. No worries about passing emission tests out here, no need even for a license. He set the silver case on the front seat, climbed in.

He was off with a roar, headed down the canyon for the 20 mile or so run to base camp. He passed a never ending stream of loaded trucks headed the other way. The forest opened up into clear space about a mile from the camp, jumbles of limbs and tree stumps yet to be burned were everywhere. Even down here, the smoky haze from the fires hung in the air.

He screeched to a stop in front of the tent that served as the local bar, it was 50 miles to the next one. Several of the workers, now off shift, were snugged up to the counter, sucking on warm beer. There was an old cassette in the corner, pounding out music, one of the native girls was dancing naked to the sounds.

Walker, the project supervisor, was over in the corner. He spotted Tiki and waved him over.

"Get it?"

"Yea."

"How soon can you move the camp?"

"Probably next week."

"Probably won't work, we need in there NOW!"

Tiki sighed, he wasn't looking forward to this. He had told the tribe the last time he moved them that this was it, the last time.

They had reluctantly agreed. Not really a lot of choice on their part, the last time one of them created a fuss, he hadn't come back from a hunting trip.

Tiki didn't like that part but knew enough to keep his mouth shut. Besides, a year or two and he would be out of here, with enough to retire for life, the way things were going.

He just had to keep the natives quiet and send off the forms to the Government, so they could appease the environmentalists who were always screaming bloody murder.

The tiny little native girl ended her dance, walked up to him with another brew. He had no idea what she was saying, it seemed like every goddam tribe had a different language. She knew when he pointed what he wanted, though.

She slipped under the table, pulled his cock out of his shorts and went to work.

Nobody paid any attention, more interested in their drinks and the music.

Walker just laughed.

Tiki and Walker carried on their conversation. Walker was telling him he wanted the tribe moved up the mountain past deadline. He knew the area, there was a big turnaround where the road into the forest ended, and the other highway turned south to the docks 1000 miles away.

The next staging area, the next basecamp.

Tiki had been down to the loading docks, too. Brokers everywhere, running around with wads of cash, buying the loads of logs as fast as they arrived.

He didn't want to move the tribe past deadline, that meant trouble down the road. They were already a good 50 miles into the reserve set aside for the locals. All the forms he had filed showed them still cutting 50 miles short of that area.

Tiki thought of the maps he had forged when he turned in the last reports.

Oh, well. Nobody ever checked.

Still, there was one member of the tribe that would be trouble, he knew. Tiki always called him "Doc", because he couldn't pronouce his name, that was as close as he could get.

Doc had gone to the city for a few years, then came back. That made him dangerous.

There was only 19 members in this tiny band. 11 men, 5 women and 2 small children. Plus the old chief. That old bastard had ideas in his head, too. He didn't mind well, either, always arguing.

Tiki could see this tribe's future. 10 of the male members more or less shared the available women, Tiki did too. The old chief didn't really care about the women anymore, they just carried food and whatever he needed to him. Those wise old eyes always looked right at him, through him.

Tiki was pretty sure the old chief wasn't going to survive the trip coming up, anyway. He could haul them up to deadline, but there would be a 35 mile walk into the jungle to the new camp. Yes, not likely to survive, probably a good thing.

More trouble out of the way.

Still the nude native girl sucked away at him, finally he pushed her away. Pouting, she took the dollar he gave her, and went back to dancing.

He left, got back into the big truck and roared off towards the native camp.

Tiki wasn't looking forward to this, not one bit. Bad enough that as soon as Doc had returned back to his tribe he had grabbed Choa, the best of the native women for himself. He had then more or less assumed command over the others. Tiki had had designs on the pretty native girl himself, now she was out of the loop.

He knew he was going to need to handle Doc to get this done. But he had 150 pounds of size on him, and even though Doc was wirey and athletic, he was pretty sure he could handle him.

He gathered the band around the fire, told them they were going to be moved to a special place. Water and game, he explained in his best mix of his language and theirs.

He gave them his best happy smile.

He didn't like the stony stares he received in return.

"We stay!" Doc exclaimed.

"You can't, cutters are coming."

"Our land!" Doc protested.

"No, you move tomorrow."

The tribe members began to wander off, conversation shifted to their words and gestures he couldn't fully understand. Tiki knew they were angry.

"Just fuck them!" he thought. "They will do what I say!"

He got up, walked over to Choa, pulled her to her feet. Best to get control of this right now, show some power.

She resisted, knowing. He just jerked her to her feet and dragged her to his hut. He was already erect at the idea, hell, he had been looking forward to it. He pushed her through the opening, pulled the flap down.

Her eyes were large but she just stood there. Tiki grabbed the single piece of cloth she had tied around her waist, pressed her naked against the mat that served as his bed. Her breasts were him and firm, hips slim, the mass of pubic hair was like an invitation to him

Jerking down his shorts, he held her down. Forcing her legs apart he entered her, no fanfare, nothing. She was dry and tight and he knew it hurt, he didn't give a shit.

She never offered a single sound.

Tiki was just preparing to ejaculate when he sensed a motion behind him. He started to rise, felt a pressure at his side, then it was gone.

Looking down, he saw the blood. Fucking Doc had stabbed him! He started to rise, planning on killing the little son of a bitch.

Choa squirmed and was loose, darted out the doorway. Doc just stood there, a fathomless expression on his face. He held a short spear in his hand. His face was striped with the bands of war.

Furious, Tiki started to reach for him. But his arms suddenly felt like lead. Then his legs wouldn't hold him, he went down. He could see Doc just standing there, waiting.

Tiki looked over, spotted the silver case, reached for it. He pulled it to himself, cradling it in his arms.

The room began to spin, go dark....