Note: Previously posted on the now-defunct Akela’s place Yahoo Group
Author’s Note:A little explanation: If the reason nobody’s responding to my self-
Nathoo the panther was sipping from the river when he heard a noise like the mewling of his own cubs. He looked up to see something in the river. It was some kind of wooden craft from which the noise emanated.
Curious, Nathoo slipped into the river. Despite the strength of the current, he made it to the basket, and looked at what was inside. A small brown thing that looked like a monkey was screaming. Wondering if it belonged to the monkey-people, he gripped the wooden vessel in his teeth, and pulled it ashore. Then he took the monkey-thing out of the vessel, gently holding onto it by the bedclothes with his teeth, and traveled to the monkey-people’s lair.
Upa, the wise and mighty silverback who ruled the monkey-people, gazed down approvingly at the hairless ape. “Do you give this to us as a gift?” he asked of Nathoo.
“I thought of her as one of you,” said Nathoo humbly. “Which monkey-tribe does she belong to?”
“You are naive and foolish, Nathoo,” said Upa, shaking his head, though he chuckled. “You see before you one of the Hairless Folk.”
“The Hairless Folk?” asked Nathoo. “I’d thought them only a legendary race, members of an outcast monkey-tribe who forgot they were monkeys.”
“She must be returned to her people,” said Upa. He turned to Aga, the orange one. “Aga, carry this one to the nearest tribe of the Hairless.” He placed the baby on Aga’s back, and her tiny but strong fingers gripped him tightly, making the orange one howl in pain and surprise. “Aah! She is trying to tear me apart!”
“Calm yourself, Aga,” commanded Upa strongly. “See? She is not so strong as to do that. She’s merely holding you.”
Aga blinked. Yes, it was true. He had nothing to fear. “Ah, that’s better. May I take her to the Hairless Folk now?”
“You may,” said Upa.
Aga climbed the ancient ruins that served as the monkey people’s lair. Deciding that he would stand less risk of the child falling if he held her in his feet, keeping both hands free for swinging from vines, he gently pulled the baby off his back and gripped her by his feet. Standing on one hand, he reached out for a vine and swung off.
The moon was rising when Aga returned to the lair, bruised and bloodied, holding the bundle in his arms. “Aga!” Upa cried in alarm. “What has happened to you?”
“When I got to the village,” scowled Aga, “the Hairless Folk threw stones and spears at me. I wonder if it was me or the baby they feared? I’d’ve asked, but it’s useless to talk to them. Either way, they managed to get me in two or three places. And while riding by vines both ways, I nearly fell to my death because the baby weighted me down.”
“The baby!” cried Upa. “Is she all right?”
“She is,” said Aga, holding the unharmed child. Then he pouted and added, “Unlike myself.”
Upa reached out to take the baby. “Perhaps this is a sign,” he mused aloud as Aga walked off to rest and heal. “Perhaps she is meant to be with us.” Then he stood up and cleared his throat. “Very well,” he said in the tone he used for lawgiving. He hoisted the baby above his head. “From this day forth, she is one of us!”
The monkeys hooted and howled their approval. From that day forth, they called the child Sanji, which in monkey-tongue means “One Of Us”.
For twenty rains and twenty summers, Sanji grew up among the monkey-people. Her dark hair grew straight and shoulder-long, her perfectly-complexioned skin grew tanned from the sun, and her muscles became limber and well-curved, though not overly large. She was beautiful by human standards, and what added to her charms was the fact that she went nude like the monkey-people, not knowing nor caring for clothing. Each breast was the size of her head, and her buttocks curved flawlessly.
One day, when Upa was very old, he trundled off to face his people. “My people,” he said in a frail, age-cracked voice, “I come to deliver my final speech to you. My time of death draws near.”
Sanji gasped, jerking as if stabbed, and put her hands to her mouth. Then, grief and anguish filled her heart. Her father had taught her not to fear death, for it was part of nature’s way. But she could not help but feel her heart break at the thought of losing the one who was as a father to her.
Choking back tears, she raised an arm. “I...I wish t-to speak...at th-this time,” she spoke haltingly. “F-father...if there is anything I...”
Upa smiled. “You may strike the gong, if you wish.”
“No!” cried Sanji in horror. “Not the gong!”
“It is the request of a dying man,” said Upa in a shadow of his commanding voice. “It is also your father’s will.”
When struck with the hammer, the gong sent out vibrations that summoned Hussa, the Deadly One. Anyone who looked at Hussa’s dancing, according to the legends, would fall into a deep sleep; by the time they awoke, they’d be in Hussa’s stomach. She’d spent her lifetime hearing admonitions like, “Stop that, or Hussa will eat you!” when she or a monkey misbehaved.
Hussa was not considered evil by the monkey-people; like death itself, Hussa was considered a part of the natural order. The ill and aged were fed to Hussa, who sent them to sleep first so that their deaths would be painless. She’d never actually seen anyone being fed to him as punishment for bad behavior; in fact, she’d never seen Hussa at all, always kept indoors so that she would not become his next victim.
Sanji made a decision, then. “Then, Father,” she said in a brave voice, “my last request is to attend the ceremony. Let me see Hussa for myself.”
Now it was Upa’s turn to be alarmed. “No! I forbid it! You...you should leave here and go to the Hairless Folk’s village! You are still a young woman by their standards, ready to bear children! They would accept you now -- “
“FATHER!” shouted Sanji in a voice that shook the monkey-people’s city. Everyone jumped, and then the air grew still with silence. Sanji had never spoken like that before, especially not to Upa.
When Sanji had calmed down, she closed her eyes and began to speak. “Father...I know you mean well. At first light tomorrow, after you...after it is over, I will leave for my true people, the Hairless Folk.” A tear trickled down her cheek as she said this. Then she opened her eyes, full of quiet determination. “But this will be the last time I see you. Before Hussa begins his dance, I will bid you farewell, then turn my eyes to avoid the sleep.”
Upa nodded. “You are as brave as you are loyal, Sanji. Very well. You may attend the ceremony to say your farewells.”
The full moon shone brightly as Sanji carried Upa to the part of the ruined city known as the Place of Rituals. It had originally been a domed structure, but decay had made it an open-air pavilion. Unlit torches hung from broken columns, and there was a fountain that still spewed water for extinguishing the torches. Near where a wall had been were a gong and a hammer.
Sanji laid Upa down in the center of the floor. She took one of the torches and rubbed it against the stone floor, lighting it like a match being struck. Sanji lit the other torches with it, then placed it back in its column. Finally, she lifted the hammer and struck the gong as hard as she could. A loud boom filled the air.
They waited a full minute. Sanji was about to wonder what was taking so long when she heard a slight noise, like dry scraping against rock. Upa managed to lift his head and say, “Hello, Hussa.”
Sanji turned to face in the same direction as her father as Hussa, the big python, slithered into the Place of Rituals. Sanji’s eyes widened with awe. The dreaded Deadly One was...beautiful! His long, seemingly boneless body flowed gracefully like water in slow motion over the terrain. The light from the moon and the torches shone over golden scales, turning into rainbows, and his eyes gleamed like jewels.
He moved onto the pavilion, his body curving and flowing, reminding Sanji of her own curvaceous body. When he came within three feet of Upa, he raised his head and five feet of his fifty-foot body, which made Sanji think of -- of something that made her loins burn with hunger. Her pulse raced with desire.
“Hello, Upa,” Hussa said in a silky voice. “So, now it is you who feeds me.” He turned to Sanji. “And who joins you? A female of the Hairless Folk?”
“We call her Sanji, ‘One-of-Us’,” said Upa. “She is my adopted daughter.” He turned to her. “Goodbye, Sanji.”
“Good...goodbye, father,” Sanji barely managed to get out.
“Too choked up for long goodbyes,” said Upa sadly, never knowing that the reason for Sanji’s hesitation was her distraction by lust.
“Are we ready to begin the dance?” Hussa asked.
“Yes,” Upa said, believing that Sanji had turned away and was headed back to her home in the great palace. In truth, Sanji was staring pop-eyed at Hussa, breathing heavily. Her nipples were also popping out, and her wonderful bared breasts heaved with each pant. Her clit was throbbing with arousal.
“Good,” said Hussa, not caring that his dancing might affect innocent onlookers, not caring on whom he fed. Slowly, he swayed to and fro like a snake charmer’s cobra. The motion caused his body to move in waves, and his silvery belly scales and golden back reflected the light, turning it into cascading rainbows. Then he started making S-shapes with his body, and loops and coils and figure-eights. He became squares and triangles, which oozed into circles and melted into curves.
Life among the monkeys had made Sanji strong and agile, but there were drawbacks. She had grown up believing in the ancient legends of the monkey-people, as opposed to having a civilized education. Thus, she believed fully in Hussa’s hypnotic powers. What was more, she couldn’t take her eyes off Hussa, for such was his beauty, and didn’t want to stop admiring him. He curved...she curved...he became...she needed...
“Relax, Upa,” said Hussa, “and sleep. Sleep and dream of happy days, until time exists no more.” Upa closed his eyes, smiling peacefully. Hussa smiled, and lowered himself to the ground, swallowing Upa feet first. When he had Upa up to his stomach, Hussa raised his head, letting gravity help in the swallowing.
When Upa had disappeared past his throat, Hussa looked and saw Sanji. She was performing an erotic dance of her own. Her entire upper body, from her belly on up, was moving in slow circles, with her hips and legs helping to balance. Her eyes were glazed but euphoric, and a smile crossed her lips.
Hussa stared at her in cold-blooded curiosity. No one had reacted in that fashion to his dancing before! He spoke. “Sanji, can you move without my commands? Say so!”
“No, Hussa,” she said, for in truth she was unable to move save for her swaying. But it was a euphoric lethargy that filled her limbs rather than a paralytic lethargy. A warm wonderful feeling, almost like an orgasm, heated her body and mind, both relaxing her and giving her a rush of ecstasy.
“Come to me, then,” said Hussa, and Sanji obeyed, smiling. Her body made serpentine to-and-fro motions as she walked, her hips undulating, imitating as well as she could Hussa’s dance. Hussa was still making his beautiful flowing patterns and colored lights, and he used them to coil himself around Sanji. He had never known any of the monkeys to move like Sanji before, or for them to seeming enjoy their trances. He slithered off with his prize into the jungle, debating mentally whether to consume this morsel or mate with her...