I really have no idea where to post this one. It's a little of various. Gang. 1-1. Mixed. Supernatural. A touch of extreme. A total head trip.
WARNING! You must be 18 or over to read these stories of rape and non-consensual sex. This story is all fiction and no characters in it are meant to resemble any real person. That’s the legal part. Here’s the important part to me. This is fantasy, by the author, to be shared with readers who share in such fantasies. That is the story’s sole purpose for being here. In the real world, this sort of behavior is simply not acceptable, period, by any of the laws or morals of any humane people. That means you too. If you actually hurt someone without their informed consent, just stop. Take a deep breath and stop right now. That’s not your right. A surprising number of subs exist out there, so take the time to meet one and make your corner of the world a better place. Don’t trash two lives letting your frustrations get the better of you.
The Secret of the Friendly Village
The evening was spent in wild, drunken revelry, aided and abetted by the infusion of one of those jungle drugs that Mack had learned not to question or even to think much about. He tried to avoid them when he could, preferring the relatively harmless brain poisons of Scotch, vodka, or Ouzo on those rare occasions he would procure a bottle. But the villagers in the islands tended to sprinkle their brain powders liberally in the food and drink, and Mack had found no polite way to ask them about it that actually conveyed his strong desire to be warned of their presence.
“Any funny mind juju in the stew tonight?” was the closest he could get to a straight question.
“Good times, we like the mind juju, happy to host you Mr. Mack-Jack,” was about the closest to a clear answer he could get. Usually they weren’t even that forthright. He was convinced it was an island tradition to fuck with the white colonists with faux tribal inanities. He was convinced they knew damn well what he was asking and just didn’t want to answer.
But not tonight. Tonight, he just decided to run with it. He wasn’t on a case. He was simply staying overnight because of how far out from New Brighton his case had taken him. He’d discovered the village of Toronoro five years earlier, and liked to stop in whenever feasible. They always welcomed him with open arms, and open legs among their nubile young girls, and stayed that way so long as he didn’t stay longer than three days. So now he sat by the big fire as the pig roasted under their basting juices. Two totally naked girls sat beside him, one on either side, fawning over him, feeding him bits of fruit and cups of coconut wine, making him wonder why on Earth he ever left the place. His right hand openly cupped the girl’s breast and no one batted an eyelid. Hell, there was a couple making love in the grass just beyond the sandy feasting area. So when the dates and figs and wine began to produce effects beyond that of mere alcohol, Mack just relaxed and let it run its course.
Mostly it was an odd sort of relaxation. It wasn’t like booze, nor the ganja weed they were getting so concerned about up in the States. It wasn’t even like the Columbian white powders that sometimes made their way this far west across the Pacific. No, this was different. Things looked different. The same, but a different same. More colorful. Light where there was no light. The pig was eventually carved up and served, and it tasted especially succulent. As Mack ate, alternately fed bites of pork by his two lovelies, he was able to hear the pig’s thoughts. Its final thoughts, and its current ones.
“We respect you, old man,” Mack said to him, probably out loud. “You give us life through yours.”
“Me happy now,” was the pig’s reply. Mack raised his cup in salute of the old timer’s serenity.
“He was a hell of a dude, for a pig,” Mack said.
“Who you talk about, Mack-Jack?” He turned to see Artolio, the chief’s son.
Mack pointed to the spit-roast. “He’s at peace, knowing we live through him!”
Artolio smiled. “Of course. We see that vision often. It is good comfort, yes?”
“The best.”
Mack enjoyed more of the feast, letting his girls feed him faster. As he had both hands on their asses, he realized he needed to have sex with them. Right away. He stood up, and they did likewise.
“Now, both of you, I need to have you both.”
“We serve Mack-Jack guest, honored,” the one on his right said with a smile. They walked, but only for about thirty feet before Mack’s raging erection threatened him pain, caught up in his pants. With scarcely a thought, he unbuckled his belt and shucked them off on the spot. The girls gasped and fawned over his throbbing hardon, leaning over to caress and lick it with their tongues. As all three settled down into the bushy sand and he slid his dick easily into the one girls tight, slick pussy, he couldn’t help but be happy. Island living, it was the best.
He realized he must have dozed off. He assumed he had finished with the girls, but they were lying both asleep beside him, right where they had sat down to make love, and it seemed rude to slide his fingers into their slits looking for his own cum. The party was over. He saw only a dim red glow from the fire pit behind him, and everyone was gone. The moon high overhead lit up everything in a dim glow. And whatever they had given him was still very much in his system. He was as high as before.
Correction. There was one other person up and about. A woman. Naked. She was standing down on the beach, glowing a bluish white glow from everywhere on her body. She was bathed in dim light. Mack thought she was about the prettiest lass he’d ever laid his eyes on. Even the comely young women coming in as his clients looking for help and rescue weren’t as attractive as this woman. She was maybe twenty, with flowing golden locks and large, proud breasts that needed no support. She was perfect naked. Absolutely perfect. He started to walk down to the beach to talk to her. The walk seemed to take forever. Just getting to the fire pit took several minutes, though it was right there. He tried to hurry. She was going to get away. She was going to take her radiant light and leave him. But finally he was on the beach, running towards her. He was exhausted when he finally caught up to her.
“Hello there,” he said. “I just have to talk to you, my dear. For you’re the most beautiful creature I’ve ever laid eyes on.”
“Why thank you, young gentleman,” she said in a slightly throaty, sultry voice with a hint of accent from the north.
“I must introduce myself. I’m Mackenzie Smyth, or Mack-Jack if you prefer.”
“Hello, Mack-Jack Smyth. I am Arwenda Billitsmore.”
“Arwenda. That is such a wonderfully exotic name. I’ve only heard it once before. Once, in an old tale.” He paused. “An old story, from the islands. The legend of Arwenda Billitsmore! Wait, that can’t possibly be right, can it?”
“I’m sure I don’t know,” the glowing nude woman said.
“But, that story, that Arwenda. The missionary’s daughter. Is, was your father a missionary?”
“I believe so. Yes,” she replied. “Father came to the islands to bring Christ to the villages here and make their lives fulfilling and happy.”
“But, that’s not right. That girl, that Arwenda, she vanished. She vanished over a hundred years ago.”
“But here I am,” she protested. “I haven’t vanished at all.”
“But you did. What year is it?”
“I’m sure it is Seventeen ninety-nine,” she replied. “The new century will soon be upon us.”
“No, you’re wrong. That was well over a hundred years ago. They’ve written ballads about you, about the legend of Arwenda Billitsmore. I mean, almost certainly she was abducted by deep villagers far from the coast, but the legends say you stood up at supper and shimmered out of existance right there. Right in front of your family.”
“What an odd way to leave. And rude,” she replied. “I have no memory of this.”
“How are you, here?” he asked, suddenly realizing that of course she wasn’t. He was high. And drunk. And she was a figment of his imagination. But what a figment. It seemed he had only reach out to touch her. And he extended his arm, and his finger, drawing ever closer to her alabaster skin. And at the moment of contact.
With a clash of thunder bursting in the air right in front of him, Mack was standing under the lightning sky. The air was sucked from his lungs. He couldn’t breathe. And he was standing at the base of a wall of rock. No, an obelisk. A mighty column of carved rock standing on the beach, out of place, carved up into demonic faces and hideous visages of death.
“Mack! Mack!” He heard her voice. She was inside it. Inside the big column of sculptural death. “Mack!” she screamed. “It’s in here! It’s in here! With me! Please! Help me!”
He stared, trying to find his voice. He wanted to raise his fists and strike the pillar. To smash it and free Arwenda.
“I’m being raped!” she cried. “Oh god, the things, they’re raping me! They’re raping me!”
“Arwenda!” he cried. And the column was gone. Vanished, and the girl too.
“Mack-Jack, friend. What is happening to you? Why are you here?” He turned to see Artolio. “Why are you bellowing on the beach? This is the sleeping time. It is not the bellowing time!”
“Did you see that? Did you see the girl? And the obelisk? She was, she was trapped! She was in the obelisk, and, she was being attacked. Demons were raping her.”
“Mack-Jack, calm down. You had a dream.”
“It was no dream. It was, um, maybe the, whatever. What did you give me in the food? What drug do you people use?”
“No, my friend. The juju, as you insist on calling it, does not give hallucinations. It gives truth.”
“Then in truth, I saw a beautiful girl and a column of carved rock, carved into the faces of demons. Demons of the kind your people fear, Artolio. Not biblical demons. Local legends.”
“A column of rock demons? This is bad, Mack-Jack. This is bad indeed.”
“I have to find her!”
“You may, but you have to find her.”
“I just said that. In the morning. I’ll start in the morning.”
“Oh, my friend, you are in error. You cannot see it, but it is morning.”
“When?”
“Right now, it is morning. The sun is coming up. My people are up, readying to eat the morning meal.”
“But, you just said it was time for sleeping.”
“That was four hours ago, Mack-Jack. Four hours ago.”
He stood, stunned. Was he supposed to believe this? He was standing on a dark beach in the middle of the night. It certainly was not morning.
“I’ll wait for morning.”
“It will not come for you, my friend. You have the juju in you, and it won’t leave you. Not until you purge it.”
“How?”
“Go to the obelisk. Go there now. Confront the demons. You must do this or you will die, as so many others died before you.”
“What!? Who died? What’s going on?”
“I will take you to the stone column god, and there you will fight it or appease it. But you must do it soon. Man cannot live in your state for long.”
Mack grumbled, not liking this newest development. But he followed as Artolio began to walk into the jungle. The moon was full and bright enough for Mack to see where he was walking, but Artolio was setting a hellish pace through the dark. Of course, he claimed it was broad daylight and there were people around. Mack couldn’t be sure anymore what was happening. They walked for hours, sometimes seeming to stand still. Other times Mack drifted off mentally only to find they were someplace completely different. But overall, they seemed to be heading up into the interior highlands of that island, far from the village. And then, up ahead at the top of the hill they were on, Mack saw it bathed in moonlight. A towering column of rock, extending up high above the ground to the heavens. He felt an immediate ill-at-ease sense. The obelisk was beckoning him forward. It wanted him to go forward. It wanted him up there.
“I can go no further in this quest, my friend,” Artolio said. “You must do what you must to end this and return to our world.” With that, he turned and walked back the way they came. Soon he was gone. Mack turned back to stare at the distant column. He began to walk towards it, as the wind increased and lightening arced across the starry sky above. In another twenty minutes or so he was walking up to it. It was the same one he saw on the beach.
“So you believe you can free the wench I claimed those many decades ago!”
He spun around to be confronted with the most hideous vision of evil. It could only be the Devil himself. Red-skinned and horned, and eight feet tall. It reached out and grabbed Mack by the neck, lifting him up. “Answer!”
“Yes!” Mack croaked, trying to breath as he clutched the being’s forearm to pull himself up. But the creature was blistering hot to his touch.
“You cannot, but you will be tested anyway. The first test.”
He heard two cries behind him, and turned to see his naked dinner companions, both staked out to the ground, still naked, but now without their composure and confidence. Their nakedness now was something that deflated them, making them helpless and weak and small.
“Mack-Jack, master, have mercy on us!” the one cried.
“Hurt us not, master! Hurt us not!” the other sobbed. She was struggling against her ropes, as was her sister, both girls petrified. They stared at him with pleading, desperate eyes. And he saw why. He had a glowing dagger in his hand, dripping with glowing blood. But what was he supposed to do with it? Stab them? Kill them? Stab their cunts, maybe? Just cut them a little? Cut their hair? What?
The answer was not clear. But it was. He sheathed the knife and stood over the girls. “You are both angels of pleasure,” he said. “You give love and affection without a care, without concern for reciprocity. You are goodness incarnate. Until now, you don’t even know what it is to be defiled. But I need to defile one of you, maybe both of you.”
“Mack-Jack? Your words frighten,” one of them said to him. He chose her. Quickly he got his pants off and stood over her, stroking himself up.
“This is going to hurt you,” he said as he knelt in front of her. “And give you no pleasure.”
“Oh! No!” she cried, seeing his intent, but unable to stop him. He quickly slammed his cock into her cunt. She cried out, shrieking as if she’d never been touched. And Mack, not surprisingly, felt her tear, and felt her virginal blood on him. Which should have been impossible. He’d fucked her already earlier that night. She wasn’t a virgin. The villagers had virtually no concept of it. There were just youth who hadn’t started their adult lives yet. And when they did, they did. But now this girl was a virgin, and crying out in pain and shame and horror and the litany of guilt and shame-inducing emotions that he brought into their culture from his own. And he didn’t even know for sure if she was really there or she was just a part of his bad drug experience.
But she felt real. Her tears were real. Even the snot leaking from her nose seemed real. The warmth of her cunt was real, as was its slickness. Her tits seemed real as he grabbed and squeezed and mauled them, twisting them around and pinching her nipples, grinding them between his fingernails so they bled and she cried. And he fucked her, hard, and hard, and hard, pounding pounding pounding. It seemed like forever. He couldn’t quite cum, so she couldn’t quite end her agonizing horror. But he did, in time, shooting cum up her snatch as thunder boomed over their heads in the lightning arced sky.
Two sisters, virtually identical. They laid beside one another, bound and helpless, ashamed in their nudity for the first time. But only one was hurting. Only one was defiled, raped, beaten, tortured. One was punished for her previous lack of sexual shame. The other, right beside her, differing in no way at all, suffered nothing more than the inconvenience of not being allowed to leave. One sister destroyed, the other spared. Arbitrary. Capricious. At Mack’s will, but he had no will of his own in this.
“I’ve done it!” he shouted at the cruel stone column. “I want her back, now.”
“There are legends about me,” she said. He spun around and there she was. Glowing. Nude. Wonderful.
“Yes. There are. You’re well-known throughout the South Pacific.”
“They say I vanished,” she said. “Shimmered and whispered and went off to nothingness.”
“Yeah, that’s about right.”
She shook her head. “That is false. I remember all of it now. I’ve been trapped here, between life and death. I’ve been in limbo, going neither forward nor backward. To go backward in Limbo usually means to return to life after being unconscious for a short time. I cannot do this, as my first body has long since decayed to mush.”
“But you’re here. I can see you! I can touch…” He paused, remember the last attempted touch.
“They grabbed me in the middle of the night,” she said. “Deep inland tribals, cut off from the larger community. Cannibals. Headhunters. Defoulers of the body. They took me and carried me inland. To here. To this stone obelisk. And there they stripped me naked.” She stopped, taking a deep breath a she recollected her painful death. “They stripped me naked and raped me. Every last one of them. Young. Old, strong, feeble. Even the women. They all raped me again and again until I was lying on the ground bleeding out. But they bound me and stood me up against the column and tied me there, and used bone knives to fillet me alive. They ate me as I watched. They ate pieces of me, cutting them from my body. And I stood there, tied right there to this stone, watching, unable to move, only to scream like no human should.”
She paused. Mack didn’t consider himself emotional, but watching her lose her composure as she related the tale almost drove him to tears. She was so brave, so undeserving of that fate. And so beautiful.
“I died right there. Sometime after they ate my eyes. I died but I stayed, because this is a place of sacrifice. I was the sacrifice, and the path beyond was not mine. So I stayed, with the thousands that have come before me, and those after me as well. We walk the shadowlands between life and death.”
“I don’t know what I can do,” Mack said. “You’re describing things I have no knowledge of. Maybe, I don’t know, a priest or something?”
“The religions of the West offer nothing in this area. The truths are stranger than our fictions. You cannot learn the truth on your side of the divide.” She pointed behind him.
Mack turned to see another woman. He knew her. She was the chief’s daughter. He hadn’t slept with her, but he had often sensed it could happen. Now she stood naked before him. Though she was usually naked, now she showed the same signs of shame that the sisters had shown. She clutched her hands over her pussy, both of them, desperate to hide her holiest of holies. Her breasts, she allowed them to dangle free. He could see them. He had a suspicion she didn’t want them exposed either, but it was her gash, her cunt. Her wellspring of life, that was what she desperately needed to keep hidden away, private. For herself alone, and not for just any man. As if on instinct, he moved towards her, knowing what to do.
He almost reached for her arms, but instead he backhanded her across her jaw, sending her stumbling back. Then he grabbed her arms and pulled her hands away from her pussy, showing it to him. She had a tuft of soft pubic hair as her only remaining covering, but very little. He hurled her down to the ground. As she sobbed and tried to roll away, he got undressed again and jumped on her, his cock coming back to life again, ready to rape again. He parted her legs as she wailed and wept, and slammed his cock into her. She shrieked as tears gushed from her eyes. He broke through her maidenhead, though it was a very tough one. Stronger than most, but he pierced it, and the pain as he ripped her flesh was obviously agonizing to her. She was clearly in horrible pain, but he just fucked her and licked her face, licking her tears. And he pounded the chief’s daughter until he came in her, flooding her womb with his spunk. Then he spat on her and climbed off, leaving her sobbing on the ground.
“What’s the purpose of all this!” he shouted, as much at Arwenda as at the stone carved column, and at that demon who was nowhere to be seen but almost certainly around somewhere. “Why am I raping these girls who’ve done nothing to me? How does this help?”
“Nothing comes without sacrifice!” It was that demonic voice again. Mack turned to see it behind him.
“Is that the price I have to pay to free Arwenda from you?” he demanded. “Or even to save my own life?”
“Are you saying it is a high price, Mackenzie Smyth? To rape women and cause them pain? Was it a high price when you beat up that prostitute when you were fifteen and didn’t have the money to pay her? Was it a high price when you took that beer hall girl out to the docks and raped her on the beach, then stole her dress and made her walk home naked? Was it a high price…”
“I get your point. We all have our bad days. What of it?”
“Sacrifices must be made, and I am not the one to perform them. Someone must take on the burden. You have been picked. You must succeed or die.”
“Then bring it on! Who do I rape next? Huh? Is that all I do, stand around and rape apparitions of women who are actually safe at home? Bring me one.” The demon pointed behind him. Mack turned and there she was. For a moment he didn’t recognize her at all. She was naked. Big surprise there. But of course, the demon knew. She was the beer hall girl. The one he’d raped years ago. Heide, that was her name. And she hadn’t even aged. Well, why would she? The demon was pulling images out of his head, and he hadn’t seen her since that night.
“Alright, you’re here,” he said. “No what? Do I fuck you or what?” In reply, she screamed and raised her hand, revealing the big knife she was carrying. He nearly caught it before dodging and landing a hard punch to her neck. She fell over in a hurry, dropping the knife. Then he grabbed her and pinned her arm behind her. “I’ll break it, bitch!” he said. “And I doubt the real Heide will be bothered in the slightest.”
“I am the real Heide!” she screamed from under him.
“You haven’t aged.”
“That’s because you killed me!” she screamed. “Du hast mich ermordet!”
“Like hell I did, doll. Look, I left you pretty much unharmed. A little embarrassed. A little humiliated. You weren’t exactly a virgin, you know.”
“And you made me walk home naked in the middle of the night in Manilla. Four miles, on foot, in the middle of the city. How far do you think I got before a gang found me? They raped me to death, right there on the street!”
“That’s on them.”
“Now it’s on you, because here I am.”
“So, do I rape you again? Believe me, if I keep getting recharged, I’m happy to go all night with this.”
She didn’t answer. But he felt his cock stiffening yet again. Apparently, he was destined to rape women to survive. So he pushed his cock to her pussy and shoved it in her. She was cold. Cold like a corpse. But it felt good and invigorating. He would just have to warm her up so he plowed her hard. She cried out. They all cried out, and she was no exception. but she lay there, much lighter and weaker than he was, and he rammed his prick into her hard enough to bruise her before shooting a full load. She was just crying by the time he finished and got up off her.
“Who’s next?” he yelled.
“No one is next,” Arwenda said. He saw that she was there, and she wasn’t glowing. She reached out to him and he could touch her. He quickly pulled her close, kissing her, presuming she wanted it too.
“So you’re back? You’re on this side of life again?”
“I think so,” she said. “It was your reward. They could see into your soul, and they saw that I would appeal to you. So they rewarded you with me, and I got to return to life. That is rare. Come, let us go.”
“Go where?”
“Back to the village, of course.”
“Oh, yeah. The village. Alright, we may as well. Maybe I can get you some clothes. I can’t fly you back to New Brighton naked. At least, I can’t get you off the plane.”
She smiled. “No, I would guess not. The plane?”
“My airplane, um, oh. You have a lot of catching up to do.”
“To the village, Mack. To Toronoro.”
“Right.”
They walked back, still under the moonlight, leaving the stone column far behind them. Mack couldn’t help but feel relieved, but also concerned. As far as he could tell he was still high. Very high. And possibly hallucinating. What, really, were the odds that Arwenda Billitsmore was alive, naked, and walking him through a moonlit night back to Toronoro. It had to be a dream. And the hallucination of Artolio wasn’t real either. The young man was just asleep, probably in the sweet hands of one of the other village girls.
The reached the village as the sun was starting to crack above the horizon, but all was not well. There was a subdued silence over most of it. And when he walked in, he could feel their stares on him. Feel and see it, and Arwenda too. In the distance he heard crying, wails of despair and grief. All of his instincts told him they were in danger. Grave, mindless, horrific danger of the sort Western man could only imagine. The villagers started to come out of their huts. And they were not pretty. The women were beaten, tortured, mutilated. The men were just flat out crippled and pulverized. The women showed signs of graphic rape. Many of the men had bloody genitals. And Mack didn’t actually recognize a single one of them. They began to shamble towards the couple, slowly, but surrounding them entirely. There was nowhere to run.
“Hello. Hi there,” Mack said. “It’s your friend. Mack-Jack. Anyone remember me? Anyone?” Arwenda cried out as the villagers surrounded them, hands clawing at them with broken nails and rotted skin on their fingers. Mack tried to push his way out. He tried to punch his way out. These weren’t villagers. They were zombies. Creatures of the dead. Was all that for nothing? Had he killed them to get Arwenda? To save himself. They surrounded the pair. They dragged the two of them down. Mack’s last thought was that he was drowning in cadavers.
There was a darkness, a blackness, and it ended when Mack opened his eyes to see a bright tropical sky overhead. He smelled the clean sea air with the whiff of freshly washed jungle. There was no death. There was only life and warmth.
And then there was his friend Artolio, healthy and happy, grinning down at him. “Good morning, Mack-Jack!” he said with a chipper voice.
“Artolio. Wow. That feast. It was a dream,” Mack said. “A dream after all.”
“Kind of a dream, Mack-Jack. Not all.”
“Yeah, well you guys are welcome to that juju for yourselves from now on.”
“No more juju, Mack. No more for anyone.”
“Oh?”
“I am saying goodbye to you now. I want to rejoin my people. I stayed behind to say goodbye.”
“You’re all leaving?” Mack asked, sitting up. He blinked as he looked around. Forward. Left. Right. He should have been in the middle of the village. He recognized the forest at the edge. But it was gone. It wasn’t just gone, it was erased. He saw only virgin wilderness. Not the husk of a hut or fire pit or even a bare patch where one would have been. There was just land and trees and jungle brush. “What? What’s going on?”
“I am saying goodbye, and thank you, Mack-Jack. You are a good friend.”
“I don’t understand what’s happening, Artolio. Please explain what’s happening. Where is the village?”
“This is the village,” Artolio said. “This is the village as it looks now. This year. This is what’s here when you don’t come to visit us. Then we give you the village as it was, long ago, before the Great Death came.”
“The Great Death?”
Artolio looked away, pensive and sad. “We had a good life. But from deep, deep in the jungle came a people like no other. Cannibals. Witches. Headhunters. Sorcerers and cavorters with demons of the underworld. They came across us and they slaughtered us in an evening, but only after a great revelry of pain and horror. We were taken apart. Our women raped and mutilated, and then taken apart. Their acts destroyed our souls’ paths forward, and we were trapped. We were stuck between life and death, sometimes sleeping until someone came around who might offer us a way out. You were one such person, Mack-Jack. There were others like us. The woman, Arwenda, she died at the hands of those people, as did her whole family a short time later. After they studied her and them and learned that pale skin offers no added protections by angels.
“We needed someone to do what you did. To go into our world with what you call juju and do as the demon wished. To give in to your savagery for the greater good. So when you come along, we awaken and we create our village as it was, and we give you good food and sexy women. We can maintain it for a few days only, so you had to either help out or leave. But you didn’t like the juju. You wouldn’t take the juju, not until last night. You finally took the juju. You finally stepped over into our world between life and death. And you did what the demon wanted. And we thank you for that. We are eternally grateful. If we meet you in the beyond someday we will have much gratitude.”
Mack sat there, trying to absorb the words. “But last night, when I got back. You attacked me, us. Me, I guess.”
Artolio grinned. “We just had to shake you and wake you, Mack-Jack, get you back to your world. No harm came to you? No?”
“This really doesn’t make a lot of sense,” Mack said. “It seems like just a bunch of stuff I did. Lots of rape. No meaning.”
“Try not to understand the supernatural, Mack-Jack. You live longer that way. It doesn’t make sense. I’ve lived in many decades now. I understand nothing. Just go with the flow, I say that right, yes?”
“Yeah. Go with the flow.”
“Good-bye, Mack-Jack. I want to join my people in the world of death now. Keep an eye out for me when you get iced by bad guys, yes?”
“Sure, I’ll do that. Say goodbye to Arwenda for me, would you?”
“What for? You making no sense. Lady Arwenda is your reward. Good-bye, Mack-Jack.” For an instant he shimmered in the sunlight, and then was gone. Mack looked around and stood up. Only then did he see her.
Right behind him, laid out in a straight line, she was lying there. Arwenda. Nude. Unconscious but breathing. Her alabaster white skin shone bright in the sun, her golden hair shimmering. Her big, round breasts couldn’t lie flat, they were just too large. Only by turning completely around could he see her. But she was there, alive, with him.
“Hey, wake up,” he said. “Wake up, Arwenda. Come on.” He touched her face lightly, trying to rouse her. She finally moaned and opened her eyes.
“Why am I outside?” she asked. As she sat up, she suddenly seemed to recognize she was naked. And she screamed, clutching her hands over herself, backing away from him. “Who are you?” she cried. “What have you done to me? Where are we?”
“Don’t you remember?” he asked.
“Remember?” She paused. “I remember. Something. I went to bed. Early, it was. Father and mother stayed up. But something roused me. Something…” Her voice trailed off, and she was staring at him. Staring hard. Her arms relaxed, falling to her side. Her face flushed, turning bright red. “I, uh. I’m sorry. I can’t seem to collect my thoughts. You, do I know you?”
“We met once,” he said. “You likely have forgotten.”
“I hope we were friendly, then.”
“Yes, of course.”
She was still staring at him. He could barely take his eyes off her. She was absolute perfection. He couldn’t have described a prettier woman.
“I seem to be not myself. I should cover myself!” she said, putting her arms back up, but then lowering them again. “I don’t understand. That just seems wrong for some reason. I, I don’t wish to hide myself.”
“That’s alright.”
“Mr., uh.”
“Mackenzie Smyth,” he said. “I go by Mack-Jack, or just Mack.”
“What an interesting nickname. I’m Arwenda Billitsmore. But you must know that.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Mack, oh my, I shouldn’t say this. I have to say it. I guess this will sound very forward. Maybe my lack of clothing has addled my emotional modesty as well. But I believe that if father were to pick an ideal husband for me, he should look much like you.”
“I happen to be free,” Mack said. “But there is something we need to talk about, right away. Come, walk to the beach with me. Can you swim, by the way?”
“Surely I can. Father insisted we all learn when we took ship to the islands.”
“Good. Tell me, what year is it?”
“I’m sure it is Seventeen ninety-nine,” she replied. “The new century will soon be upon us.”
“Yes. Okay,” Mack said as they emerged onto the beach and he spotted his sea plane anchored just as he had left it. “Tell me, have you ever wondered if mankind will someday fly?”
