Written by Bakai (March 2000)
The scruffy-looking man climbs up the narrow trail cut into the side of the bluff and when he reaches the top he lights his pipe and looks out at the ocean. The supply boat appears from behind a point to the south, beginning its return voyage to Oaxitl. The old man blows smoke lazily through his nose, and hears footsteps behind him.
"I've been looking for you, Alex" a woman says when she reaches the clearing where he stands.
"I'm not hard to find," he replies. Somewhere along the narrow beach below them can be heard the faint sounds of male voices and the clink of a pickax being struck against rock.
"The boat brought you a visitor," she tells him as they turn and walk up a path that has recently been carved through the thick jungle foliage.
"I've got no time for visitors," he says.
"It's a pretty young woman. A writer. She says she's interested in what you're doing here."
"I've got to take a piss," he tells her. "You go on, I'll catch up."
He unzips his fly and pulls out his penis.
"Let me help, Alex," she says.
"Ah, Clara. You know I've haven't been in much of a mood for that lately," he tells her.
"For the month we've been on this side of the island," she reminds him. She presses against his back and reaches around to take hold of his penis. "Watch my boots!" he warns, releasing a strong stream of piss which she directs into clump of ferns at the side of the trail. A large black beetle scurries out of the ferns and runs between their legs, disappearing into the tall grass behind them.
"What has happened to us?" she asks, gently attempting to masturbate him before his bladder has emptied. He reaches down to still her hand and finishes his piss while she blows her breath in his ear.
He pulls her hand off of his penis and starts to tuck it away. "Let me suck you off," she says, but he is already zipping up his fly.
"Damn you, Alex. I've been horny the whole time we've been here and you've decided to become a goddamned monk! What's wrong with your dick?"
"Maybe it's the heat," he says. They walk again up the trail toward the camp.
"It was hot in Peru just two months ago. You were all over me like flies on shit," she tells him.
When they reach the camp, Clara leads him to an attractive young woman who is sitting at a makeshift table snuffing out a cigarette and leafing through his notebooks. "This is Carmena Sanchez, Clara says before turning and walking across the small clearing to a tent.
"Hello, Professor," the Sanchez woman says.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he growls. "That's personal stuff."
"Sorry. It was open. Couldn't resist. It's my journalist's instinct," she explains.
"Why are you in my camp, Miss Sanchez?"
"I've heard the tale of what happened on this island, Professor."
"That's unlikely. It's too obscure," he says, sitting down and filling his pipe.
"If I tell you what I've heard, will you tell me what you've found?" she asks.
He lights his pipe. "If your tale is accurate, yes. I'll tell you what we've found so far. Little as it is. You're wasting your time."
"She turns to face him and lights another cigarette. "There was once a relatively large settlement here. They worshipped a god who was half man, half beast. This god took good care of them; kept them in good health and provided plenty of food. All he required was the first roll in the hay with their women. When a girl came of age she'd go to his cave and he'd fuck her brains out. Not much to ask in return for providing the good life. How am I doing, Professor?"
"I'm listening. What happened to them in your tale?"
"The usual. A young maiden fell in love with a boy and when her time came she refused to go to the cave. The people grew impatient with her attitude and tried to drag her there anyway. On the way she jumped from a cliff into the ocean and her boyfriend jumped after her. This pissed the god off and he cursed them.
No more erections for the men, full-time lust for the women. So the women started shagging their pussies to the cave, trying to appease the god but they couldn't get him off. Bored with nothing but soft dicks at home, they voted to seal off the cave and everybody moved to the other side of the island where things weren't much better. That's why there's only a few of them left." She crushes her cigarette under her foot. "Well?" she says.
"You've been to their village. You got that story from the whiskey priest, Callahan. He's been living with those people too long.
"I think he's keeping the population steady," she says. "Did you see the red hair on some of those kids?"
"That bastard somehow got a letter to me, claimed there were a lot valuable artifacts to be found here. He charged me five thousand for that story and we haven't found much," he tells her.
"His story wasn't too far off," she says. "Very much like the one my grandmother told me before she died. I am a descendant of these people."
"I won't doubt you, Miss Sanchez. Your facial features are Indian. You are a beautiful girl."
"Thank you, Professor. So you have found no antiquities here?"
"There was once a large community on this end of the island. There are signs of it everywhere but we haven't yet found a single thing that's marketable. We've located what could be a cave down on the beach. It's behind a mound of rocks that we're trying to clear away right now. Maybe we'll find the god and take him to New York, put him in a Broadway play. If not, we're off to South America again. I think you wasted a trip, Miss Sanchez, same as me."
"At least show me the cave, Professor."
"It's a difficult trail down to the beach. Even Clara hasn't been down there yet and she's a mountain goat."
"I'll reimburse the five grand that Callahan got from you, Professor. Just take me down there."
"You have a fool's curiosity, Carmena," he says. He stares past her and sees Clara walking across the clearing towards them.
"Lonny just checked in on the radio," Clara says when she reaches the table. "There is definitely a cave down there. They've cleared an opening."
"Grab a lantern," he tells Clara then he looks at the young woman.
"You get your wish, Carmena. You can write the check when we get back." Clara fetches a lantern and the three of them hurry off in the direction of fate.
When they get down to the beach they approach a large, sweating man who is sitting in the sand smoking a cigar. Alex stops but the women continue down the beach to a pile of rocks and stare into a dark hole that has been exposed in the side of the cliff.
"What's the problem, Lonny? Where are the boys?" Alex asks the large man. The man points a finger down the beach and Alex spots the two young Indian men far in the distance sitting shirtless in the sand. "What's with them?" Alex asks.
"I dunno, boss. When we opened that hole some real bad air came out of there. I almost retched. They just ran down the beach. It's an awful stink. I ain't never smelled anything like it."
Lonny stands up and the two men join the women who are still staring quietly into the cave. Alex pulls a handkerchief from a pocket and covers his nose. "What the hell is that?" he asks.
"Isn't it wonderful," Clara says. "It's like musk." She leans against Alex and puts her hand on his chest. Lonny backs away and shakes his head.
"Light the lantern," Carmena says. "I've got to go in there."
"Nobody goes in 'til it airs out," Alex commands.
Clara slides her hand to Alex's crotch and squeezes his penis. When he pulls her hand away she whacks him with her fist, then bends down and lights the lantern. "What the hell are you doing?" Alex asks her.
She hands the lantern to Carmena and the young woman ducks into the dark opening with Clara following behind her.
"Shit!" Alex says and he looks at Lonny. "No way, boss. I'll wait out here," the big man scowls.
Alex turns on his flashlight and ducks into the cave opening. He finds himself in a passageway that is big enough for him to stand in so he walks carefully toward the small figures of the two women who are silhouetted in the lantern light fifty yards in front of him. The odor in the passageway almost overpowers him but he presses the handkerchief tight against his face, forcing himself to continue.
"Oh, my God!" Clara gasps as she follows Carmena into a chamber at the end of the tunnel. They walk into the room a short way and then stop. Carmena sets the lantern on the sand-covered floor then straightens up, taking hold of Clara's hand while the two of them stare, enthralled by what they see before them.
Alex reaches the entrance to the chamber but cannot enter, held back by some invisible force of will, the weight of which drives him to his knees. He fights back a feeling of nausea and beams his light into the room.
The creature is reclining on his back in the sand, holding his horned and bearded gargoylish head up to stare down the ten foot length of his body which is a grotesque mix of man and beast.
His lion-like arms are bent and his hands, very human, are held above his stomach, palms facing out, fingers spread and curled slightly as if he were cupping two watermelons spaced two feet apart. His goat-like legs are spread apart, his knees bent and his cloven hooves are planted firmly in the sand as if he were ready to thrust his loins upward. Between his legs an immense scrotum sags to the sand and above it a thick, gnarled penis juts vertically, towering over his narrowed hips.
Alex shines his flashlight into its face and has the eerie feeling that the two pitted blank eyes are taunting him. He studies the smirking mouth, open enough for the beast's pointed, protruding tongue to rest sensually against its lower lip. Alex shudders and again fights back a feeling of nausea. "Amazing," he groans. "It's been carved from a single block of stone."
"He's alive," Clara says.
"It's a good sculpture," he replies. "In this light he appears real. Come on, let's get out of here. Tomorrow we'll bring the camera and some decent lighting."
"He's alive, Alex. I can see him breathing. He's saying something. He wants..."
"You're hallucinating, Clara. There must be a narcotic in this awful air." He tries to enter the room but once again is pressed back by an overpowering feeling of repulsion.
"He wants Carmena," Clara says quietly.
"What do you mean?"
"He's calling for her. Can't you hear him?"
"Dammit, Clara, its just an ugly hunk of rock!"
"He's beautiful," she sighs. "So very beautiful."
Carmena rests a hand on Clara's shoulder and whispers something into her ear, then she reaches down to untie her boots. When she has them and her socks removed she takes a few steps toward the creature. She hesitates a moment and then unbuttons her shirt.
"What the hell is she doing?" Alex asks into the room but neither woman seems to hear him. Clara takes off her own boots and starts to undress. Alex cowers powerlessly at the entrance to the room while both women strip themselves naked before the beast. Alex shines his light on Carmena's face and sees tears on her cheeks. She is trembling.
"She's a virgin, Alex. She's afraid," Clara says.
"Shit!" You don't think she's going to try and mount that thing, do you?" he stammers.
Clara doesn't answer. She walks over to Carmena and hugs her.
"It will be just fine," she whispers and then leads her to the beast.
"Damn you, Clara! Have you gone crazy?" Alex yells but they pay him no mind. Carmena raises her leg over the beast's waist and straddles him. She interlocks her fingers into his and lets Clara guide her hips back, centering them over the top of his penis. Clara puts her hand beneath Carmena's vulva and rubs into it. She withdraws her moistened fingers and lubricates the beast's large knob with the wetness.
"He's very warm," she assures Carmena, and then she inserts her hand between her own legs and brings more lubricant up to smear on his shaft. "You are ready. It will be so good for you. Don't be afraid" she tells Carmena and then she steps back and kneels into the sand, caressing her own breasts and fingering her nipples.
"You're both crazy," Alex mutters, collapsing back onto the floor of the tunnel. He flicks off his flashlight and stares at the rite unfolding before him. Carmena lowers herself, pressing against the top of the beast's penis. Tears roll off her cheeks and drop to her breasts, sparkling in the lantern's glow. She stares into the beast's eyes with a begging smile, and when his knob penetrates her she whimpers softly and settles down onto him, swallowing him deep inside her as a roar echoes through the chamber. She exhales a low moan that gurgles in her throat.
"Ride him!" Clara urges, her hand thrust between her legs, her fingers rapidly coaxing her own private joy as Carmena begins a rhythmic rising and lowering around the penis grasped tightly within her.
Once again the beast roars and she thrusts harder up and down on him, tiny beads of sweat dancing on her breasts, her body straining in anticipation of some mysterious benediction.
The beast roars louder and Carmena stares blissfully into his eyes and opens her mouth to scream but her cry is drowned in a deafening clap of thunder that fills the chamber and she is jolted upwards as a torrent of warm viscid liquid pulses out of her vagina and flows like lava down between her legs, puddling in the sand around his scrotum. But she doesn't notice, having been transported for a few long moments to a place not unlike the sun, consumed by it. At last she relaxes and remains pinned on him for a while, beaming a worshipping smile into his face.
"Please come out of there, Clara," Alex begs, but she is still on her knees in the sand, bent over, clutching an uplifted breast and moaning softly as her other hand makes slow gentle movements within her contented vulva.
Carmena slowly dismounts the beast and stands unsteadily for a moment then walks over to Clara and helps her to her feet. "He's asleep," Carmena tells Clara as the two of them hold on to each other and stagger to the tunnel entrance where Alex is standing up, suddenly relieved of the spell that had been oppressing him. As they squeeze by him he is bathed by the sexual warmth radiating from their bared bodies and his penis begins to engorge.
"Oh, shit," he mumbles, turning to follow them as a horrible, not-quite-human sound of snoring drones behind him.
"What the hell went on in there?!" Lonny exclaims as they emerge from the cave.
"Nothing," Alex replies. They both stare as the women walk down and stand in the surf. Clara kneels down in front of Carmena and scoops water up to wash the beast's thick ejaculate from her legs.
"Shit," Lonny says. I must have died and gone to heaven. He stares at Carmena's young, blushing body and lowers a hand to his crotch, pressing his penis firmly against his thigh.
"We've got to seal this cave," Alex tells him. "Go up top and get all the dynamite we have. And all the fuse you can find. When this cliff face comes down we should be far away."
"But, boss..." Lonny protests, leering longingly at Carmena as she walks out of the surf and passes behind Alex. When she bends over to reach for her bag his eyes light up. "Okay, but then we're gonna party."
He turns to start off on his errand and two bullets zip though the back of his sweaty tanktop. The first severs his spine, the second shatters his heart.
"What the hell..." Alex sputters, turning to face the explosions, and a third bullet bores a neat hole into his forehead, final punctuation for his unfinished question, and he crumples into the sand.
"Alex!" Clara cries, still kneeling in the surf. She begins to sob and buries her face in her hands. Carmena drops the pistol and walks into the water. She kneels down in front of Clara and gently pulls her face up. "They were going to destroy him," she tells her and Clara nods, then throws her arms around Carmena and stares silently over the young woman's shoulder at the two bodies lying still in front of the cave.
In a while they stand up and begin to walk slowly along the narrow beach towards the two distant young men who are still sitting motionless in the sand.
"We'll have those boys bury them," Carmena says. "No one will ever know."
They walk silently for a few minutes.
"We're naked," Clara says. "What will those boys think?"
"We'll fuck them first," Carmena says.
Clara takes hold of Carmena's hand.
"Yes, we'll fuck them first," she replies softly. Then she smiles.
Prisoner 96 Is OUTTA There - I don’t suppose we can blame Prisoner 69 (did you see his nametag?) for being unmotivated about this prison break, but it doesn’t take a lot of imagination...
22 hours ago