Isle

I was still lying there, on that damn wooden platform, blind-folded, tied up, covered in  whip licks, and my asshole still sore. The torturers had left me there a while back. What would come next? What could they still do to me, apart from taking my life? Cut out a part of me? Or make me bleed some more? I was too tired to even get aroused. I could hear the rustles in the jungle. They were coming back.

“Now, boy, lick”

“Sir?”

“Push out your tongue and lick, boy”

I stuck out my tongue and felt something gooey. I licked the thing, a smooth surface that felt like hairless skin. My tongue began to burn up. A headache started. The wooden platform turned into styrofoam. I was lifted into levitation. The ropes became silk garment. I felt my heart pumping like crazy on my face’s little veins. The silk loosened from my ankles and wrists. A dove took off from the top of my face, where it had sat as a white blind-fold. I saw a million sun rays fall through the green canopies. I reached for the rays. What would they feel like to touch? Like glass tubes? Would they ring, when they hit together?

A face appeared above me. Skin white as snow. Even his hair was white, like an old man’s, but this guy had the most beautiful, youthful face. He smiled. Another face appeared by the white one. It was ebony black, bony and the jaw was wide. He’s eyes were tiny sparks of yellow light.

“Welcome to Paradise, Gary”, the white faced man said.

“S-s-sir?”, I mumbled.

“No, no. That game is over. You may call me W. And this is Mombe.”

“O-o-ok-kh-kay”, I was shivering, burning up.

“Have another lick. It’ll take the edge off”, W said and held a bright yellow frog to my face. As I wasn’t doing anything, he went ahead and licked it once himself. “Oh, huh, yes, ye-ees!”, he said, tilted his head back and chuckled.

Tears fell down my face. I felt like the levitation was wearing off and my shivering got fiercer. So I licked the frog again. Immediately the flight continued. W held the frog for the black guy. He too licked the creature.

Suddenly water splashed on me. It was cool and refreshing. Another wash. I sat up. W was holding a bucket he had just poured on me. He pushed me down on my back gently. “Let us tend to your wounds first, and then get up” he said and started to put some sticky mush on my whip-wounds. A primitive remedy of sorts, I suspected.

It was as if the saturation of the jungle colours had been set higher. Every colour was like a separate light show. I sat up and started laughing. The white and black creature amongst the array of colours seemed hilarious.

W was wearing only white shorts and a pair of worn-out sandals. He was not particularly muscular. The abs were showing, but so were his ribs. Mombe stood two-metre tall, bald, and had a seriously under-sized tank-top on him. A logo folded between his apt pecks. It said: “Hello Doggy” on the chest. It was miraculous how those huge muscles didn’t tare the top in two. He also had green comouflage-pants and army boots.

Despite the saggy pants, his dick was hanging visible from under the canvas, bulging like a thick exotic snake. He saw my jaw drop. He grinned and scratched his dick through the pants. I had that inside me just a while back? No wonder I’d lost my consciousness. Was he bathed in plutonium when he was little?

W washed my face with a cloth and gave me my shorts, sneakers and tank top back.  I got dressed and got on my legs. Right away I had to sit back on the wooden table behind me. “Perhaps another lick?”, I suggested, in hopes the frog poison would help me clear up. “Too much will kill you”, W said and started walking into the bush, Mombe right behind him. “See you around, Gary”, W said and they disappeared in the jungle.

“Wait! I don’t know where I am!”. No answer. I got on my feet, barely. My vision had started to get back to normal. I tried to listen if there was a stream near by to go to. Nothing. My swiss was missing from my pocket. I checked the camp for supplies. There was nothing but the wooden table there on the opening. And… I saw a riding crop in the middle of some dried leaves. No doubt the one W had used on me. Better than nothing.

Airborne, it had looked like the island wasn’t any larger than a few kilometres across, so I thought I’d hit a shore going any direction in a relatively short amount of time.

I did remember to what direction W and Mombe had went. So I headed there.

There was no path. I estimated going straight from the sun and walked on, hoping I’d find something useful or hit the shore before the night.

My stomach growled. My throat felt like sand paper. I swear something moved back there. I stopped. It was dark already. This was hopeless.

I startled. Something touched my shoulder from behind. I couldn’t see much but a hand reached out from the darkness and pulled my shoulder gently as if giving direction. I grabbed the hand and let it pull me through the jungle.

The leaves rustled on my face in the darkness. We entered a yellow glow. The hand pulling me became visible. His arm was lean but muscular, it stretched into a mediocre bulgy shoulder and chest. A long-distance runner -type. He had almost no clothes on. Just a loin cloth was loosely covering his genitalia. It was the type of loin cloth that was strapped in between the buttocks, so I could observe the rear tightness unobstructed. He had a head-band that had a some colourful stones hanging on threads.

But the most striking look was his skin. His entire body was covered in red-coloured tattoos. All kinds of animal motives turned into flowers and waves, things being born from another. A stream of life and nature. My eyes lingered down, I wondered what type of an animal lurked in his loin cloth. I glanced up to his face. He had a serious expression, and was still holding my hand. He gestured to sit down. I placed myself opposite of him. The fire place crackled between us.

He had an innocent, boyish face despite the serious-warrior-expression. That naiveté made him just that much cuter. He had a dark, long hair in a tight ponytail. I hint of beard grew on his face. No doubt this was all his face would grow at his age. How old was he really? Younger or older than me? I guess he could be my age by his body. But that face threw me off. A guy on the brink of manhood. Perhaps he had already crossed the brink, because as he had sat down, the loin cloth had spilled out a thick thing hanging from a dark-haired bush. It had only taken a second, and he had immediately covered himself, but my eyes had been watching for every millisecond. Definitely a man.

“What’s your name?”, a said smiling.

He looked up from the fire into my eyes and said nothing.

“Thanks for getting me out of the sticks, man. I swear if you hadn’t…”.

He had a questioning look in his eyes. “Sorry. So American of me to think everyone speaks english”. I pointed at myself and said: “Z”. I then pointed my finger at him. He stared at my finger, a second, then he realised. He made a series of signs with his hands. I took out my phone and searched for sign language. No bars. How urban of me to assume the phone works everywhere.

He looked at my phone with widened eyes. I wrote on the notepad-app: “I don’t know sign language”. He touched the screen and started laughing when the letters moved under the glass. He held in closely between his hands, I suppose feeling the warmth.

He must be indigenous to this island. He offered me the phone back. I circled around the fire, next to him. He didn’t protest, so I sat down. I took the phone and opened the picture gallery. I gave him the phone. Under the glass was a provocative picture of me posing nude with lustful eyes. He looked at the picture mesmerised. I saw the loin cloth nudge.

As a suggestion, I lifted my tank top up to my naval. The guy grabbed his loin cloth and tried to hold his swelling down. I smirked and took his hand, and pressed it on my belly. He went breathless and stared. I caressed my abs slowly with his hand. He went serious and looked at me, but I just gave him a warm smile, so he relaxed a little. Then I pulled his hand downwards, into my shorts. The loin cloth gave in and his member plopped out from under it in full stand.

I let his hand feel my swelling cock get tight inside the shorts, and pulled myself closer to him. Then I pressed my lips on his neck and licked his veiny neck. I felt his pulse getting faster as a sucked his neck. He put his hand on his dick and started pulling the foreskin back and forth. I could hear his pre-cum splash.

I pulled my face away to see him jerk off. What a beautiful penis. It was plump, fat in the middle and pointy at the tip. He breathed heavily, obviously trying not to moan as he touched himself.

I was about to lunge back for his neck when I saw that a part of his red tattoo was worn out right at the spot I had licked his neck. I swiped from that place with my finger and the red colour spread. So this was paint. It must’ve taken hours to paint this all over his body. Was it a part of some ceremony perhaps? Had he been to the ceremony already or had he escaped from it? W and Mombe didn’t seem to do their thing out of religious ambitions, but for their own pleasure, but I couldn’t know for sure.

The boy looked at my red finger tip and fright spread all over his face. He even stopped jerking off. I put the finger in my mouth and sucked it until the colour was gone. That seemed to calm him down some. I got on my fours and wrapped my lips around his cock. I lunged the prick right down my throat. This time he couldn’t help but to moan a little.

I felt a familiar sensation on my tongue. A burn like when I had licked the frog. His paint must have been made of the same poison. Had he known? Was he deaf? Was this another game? It didn’t matter. He seemed to enjoy my sucking. My head felt a little light. I stopped the sucking cause I felt like a had a hard time breathing. The red figures had come to life on his skin. They moved like a stream over the ridges of his muscles. I got on my back and spread my legs. He got the message and spat in his hand.

The dick went in easy due to its shape, but when the fat middle part got to my sphincter I had to relax and let it plop inside properly. Once in, I tightened again and the dick was under pressure. He moaned in pleasure. The red animals ran across his abs and headed for the dick. They ran across the his deep v-line and went for the shaft, disappearing into his dark bush. Would I feel a rampage of tiny animals soon inside me? What a ridiculous notion, I was just hallucinating. He had his eyes closed as he plowed his member inside me. Oddly the red shapes had grown up his neck and across his face now, like vines. The shapes reached for his eyes and soon made his eye lids red. Then his eyeballs started to get colour. Now they were completely red, like two polished red billiard balls. He seemed to have a heightened horniness out of this. He took a stronger pose and started to really ram me. It was like his muscles had grown instantly as well. Suddenly his cock took a new sturdiness and grew, filling me deeper. I could feel the veins on his cock pump hard, like little animals running on the walls of my rectum. Horned animals it seemed, as the earlier ravaging had still its wounds left within me. I tried to ignore it, because I was having a good time. His abs tightened, he took a hold of my shoulders and his pelvis started making uncontrollable shoves. He growled like an animal and kept his cock inside, while he spasmed. He let it throb inside me a while before he pulled it out. His cream drizzled out of my asshole. Then some red started coming out with the white.

From his headband, he pulled out a thin sharp knife and placed it on my neck. His hand shook as he looked me in the eye. I was completely still. I saw a tear form on his right eye. Suddenly he lifted the blade to his own neck. As he started slitting, I grabbed his arm and stopped him. I took the knife and threw it away. He seemed confused and started to cry.

Right then, a heavy rain started. All of the figures melted from his skin. As they did, so did his muscles turn smaller. His dick, though still erect, lost it’s earlier fat appearance and turned into a quite a small thing. But so did his entire body. His bush disappeared completely as did any body hair he had had. He screamed. His male voice crackled and the pitch got higher. Finally all the paint had been washed off. A little boy stood in front of me, perhaps twelve years of age. “Sorry” he cried: “I just want become man”. I got sitting up and pulled my shorts up. Then I smiled to him and said: “You were a man just now, trust me”. “No”. “You sure felt like a man to me”. “No. I sacrifice you: Yupapa make me man. Now I never be man”. “Sure you will, you’ll just have to wait”. “My body not man. My body weak”. “Well until it grows, you can always touch yourself and think of all the things you’ll do when you are a man”. “Me grow?”. “I promise”. “You and me boyfriend then?”. “I think I’ll be too old for you then. Too. You’ll find new holes to fill in due time, I’m sure”.

Had calmed down. The rain had stopped. “What’s this Yupapa, you mentioned?”. “God”. “Is his name also M?”. “No. Yupapa is Yupapa”. “And this Yupapa knows things?”. “Yupapa God”. “Can you take me to Yupapa?”. “Okay”.

He gave me his slender little hand. Would he lead me to his tribesmen now, who’d tie me up and fuck me one by one until my body gave in? I tried not to think about these titallating things in front of a child. What a queer situation. He had just fucked me. Had he been twelve while his body had not been? I shook my head, decided not to think about it again, and grabbed his hand. Oddly, it had the same kind of a warrior’s grip even though it was the hand of a child. He pulled. I let him lead me to another unknown path in the pitch-black jungle.