The following is a work of fiction intended for adult entertainment. The author
hereby declares any and all elements within it that may be considered of
original content or creation to be works of public domain, free to be used in
whole or in part, in any and all medium, without recompense or permission
required from the source material. ROOK.
Authors note: This Savage Girl story is a stand alone story and has nothing to
do with the four part series. Rook.
BUSH GIRL & SAVAGE GIRL in “THE FERAL FRAULEIN” (part one)
The ‘Nereid’, an old wooden de-masted galley of questionable origin, had seen
much service in the Mediterranean under a dozen or so captains before creaking
her uncertain way down the Atlantic coast of Africa to find her current service
in the Equatorial hub of the Gulf of Guinea as a merchant vessel hauling
supplies from costal city to city and sometimes up into the treacherous mouths
of the winding rivers of the interior to tug barges of raw materials. It was an
uneasy existence and an ‘other than honorable discharge’ of an end for a ship
who’s lost past included, a birth as a vessel of war who housed no less than a
Prince whose blood still stained her foredeck though invisible now to any eye
that would seek to look as the timber had seasoned too dark by times tarnish.
Her current captain, one Del Marco, of semi-nefarious fame for having shot his
brothers lover only to have his brother hang for the murder while he hid in the
interior, was a quiet and morose man of sable blue gray complexion and once
considered handsome and athletic in build in his younger days, though one would
be as hard pressed to see it now in the thin twisted silent man who hunched at
the cabin wheel as it were to see the stain of the great rebel Prince’s gallant
long forgot last stand paid in the fullest measure and still coming up just
nigh of glory.
Del Marco now trimmed the wick of the oil lamp creaking on its rusted chain
above the cracked crystal of the wheel house compass and chewed on the frayed
butt of his unlit cigar. His eyes darted around the patch work of ancient and
modern scavenged together with bailing wire and rusted tin, that made up the
Nereid. She was over a hundred years in age, of that he was sure, and he
reckoned she may be closer to two hundred by her archaic design, but no living
man could tell. He rubbed his hand over the gristle growth of three days and
dragged out an oily rag from his back pocket to rub the sweat out of his red
eyes. He hadn’t had over an hour sleep in four days since he had agreed to take
on his lone passenger in that frantic rush from the little Mattock river
trading post.
Del Marco squinted into the night and looped a rope around the steering wheel.
He folded up his handkerchief and replaced it back into his soiled khaki rear pocket.
He paced nervously for a shuffle or two and then slipped out of the wheel house
before he even realized he had meant to do so. It was a short lurching stroll
through the dank fetid black night to the store room, he paused with his hand
on the door latch, then pushed the tarnished brass work, stepping into the dark
smell of cedar and hemp rope and tar. He carefully closed the door behind him
to the tiny jumbled cramped space and pausing to breath, reached a shaky hand
in the pitch dark until he felt the shape of the heavy box before him and he
quietly slid it aside. Again in darkness he rubbed the rough wall until he felt
the large knot of wood and he twisted on it as if it were a cork shoved into a
bottle. It popped out and a stream of low golden light rimmed his eye. With his
breath thunder his dry throat, Del Marco leaned slowly forward and peered into
the next room.
There was his passenger, asleep on the small bed lying vertical to his view
through the little hole. She lay on top of the bed covers and she had removed
her filthy back t-shirt, her stained and torn black jeans, and her heavy
scuffed black combat boots, and lay in her black frilly bra and lacy panties,
beads of perspiration from the sweltering heat diamonding her pale flesh. Del
Marco bit his hand hard to stifle the inventory moan rising up as whines in his
chest, and drank in the beauty of the raven long haired young woman. But it was
the necklace he was interested in, he had caught a glimpse of it that morning,
swaying out for a second of freedom from between her full heavy breasts. And he
tore his stubborn gaze off the young girls thick black mound that fringed her
taut wet panties and looked for the necklace now. There it was, half hidden
behind an opulent swell of one of the hills of her bosom but visible none the
less. He felt his stewing blood turn cold in his veins, there was no denying
it, it was a Tuggie cult medallion. He grunted with the mental effort it
required but he forced his bulging eyes off the sleeping girls full red lips
where her jet black obsidian hair clung to its corners in soft rivulets and
sent his reluctant eye about the room. She had barricaded the only door to the
small room with a stout oak chair wedge under its handle. He could not blame
her for that, considering the last three days events, he could see no other
possessions of the girl other than her removed clothing which she had tossed
onto the floor, and her ever present large stuffed well worn black book bag.
With his every limb shaking from the strain, Del Marco forced his face away
from the peep hole and plugged it again, replacing the heavy tool box before
it, and in the darkness he sobbed.
It took extreme effort like a sick man pale with trembling river fever, he half
pulled, half slid his way back in the direction of the wheel house. A Tuggie!
She was a Tuggie! And on his boat too! He thought of the past three days and
nights and how now it all made sense, how the weird unrelated pieces now formed
a seamless picture, so obvious now, so invisible to him then!
He should have known, or at least guessed at it! But it hadn’t been until he
had seen the glimpse of the amulet around her next that day, that it had hit
him like cold water on the face. Poor Danto. Poor Petra. Now he understood, but
was it too late? He shuffled on limbs stiff as iron against his will, he would
never make the wheel house like this. He was too tired. He paused and then back
tracked a step and slipped the fire axe out of its heavy hooks. He would have
to do it now, before he could no longer control himself. The Tuggies were
witches, he should have known.
Sara Savage awoke from yet another overpowering sex drenching dream. Her
fingers of her right hand firmly entrenched in her slobbering slit and those of
her left mashing her breast which she had wrenched free of her bra. This was
beginning to become an almost nightly occurrence and she cringed at would
happen if she fell asleep in the chair of an airport lounge during a stop over?
There was no point in trying to stop herself before she achieved the orgasm,
she just didn’t have the strength of willpower for it right now. So she let her
fingers do the walking, and remembered this time to yank the crotch of her
bottoms aside just as she came. A small spurt of clear liquid shot out as she climaxed.
The intensity of her orgasms were increasing, she noted as she lay there
panting in shuddering aftermath, as was the amount of her pussy’s ejaculations
upon achieving those soul shuddering climaxes. She also noted that the new
tingling sensation in her breasts now became pleasant burning ones when she
masturbated. It was the Tuggie amulet she wore around her neck. Maybe Michael
had been right in saying that the Tuggie amulets were cursed, that they were
living creatures with a mind of sorts of their own, and thus perhaps
treacherous in its odd way, but she was still glad she had answered its call
and stolen it, despite the fact that now the Tuggies were chasing her all
around the globe trying to get it back!
Sara slid to her feet mindful of the wet spot now joining the hundreds of
previous sex stains she had left on her cabin bed over the past three days.
Sara thumbed and sniffed her small pile of clothes, they hadn’t been washed in
over two weeks of running and hiding in the tropical muck, but the only other
clothing she had was her Super Heroine costume in her book bag, still at least
it was relatively fresh. Sara removed her undergarments and poured what passed
for fresh water into the chrome basin and digging her baggie of soap and
shampoo out of her book bag, began to wash herself. She noted the amulet
between her breasts continued its odd green and blue erratic glow, and wondered
if it was calling out to the Tuggies somehow? She also noted that her nipples
had become much darker, taking on an almost wine ruddy hue against her pale
white flesh, that her bra had left deep marks in her breasts as if her breast
had somehow swollen up almost a full cup size, but it wasn’t her period. She
also noted her hair was thicker and fuller and much longer on all the key areas
of her body, and she pulled back her freshly washed hair into a pony tail that
swished and tickled the upper crests of her proud buttocks, as she dug into her
book bag and took out her razor and lather and set to work on her arm pits, legs,
and trimming up that imposing thick carpet growing wild down there.
Sara felt better than she had for days, and ivory fresh and smelling of soap,
she had no deodorant or perfume so in the damp heat this freshness wouldn’t
last, but for now she felt clean and better. She turned an eye to her jism
soaked panties and too tight bra lying on the pile of rancid black clothes and
frowned.
Del Marco gathered up the heavy coil of hairy rope and tossed it over the
shoulder opposite of the perched axe and turned to eye the near by door to the
girl’s cabin, then he turned his head in the opposite direction and eyed the
river. The sun was just coming up, day light came almost as fast as night in
the tropics and Del Marco frowned as he tried to place the ships location on
the river. There were rapids and a bend coming up soon, yet he dared not stop
his craft in fear of the potential pursers of Mattock that may still be rushing
after the girl in their wake. Del Marco looked again at the innocent looking
cabin door behind which the young girl slept and he felt qualms of doubts, then
he remembered how the girl had rushed through the shallows screaming for rescue
just as the Nereid had pulled away chugging from the creaking dock of Mattock
and how the entire village of seventy men had been in mad insane pursuit of
her. He had fired his gun in warning to no effect, and in the end he had dumped
a drum of fuel into the river and used his flare gun to light it, but still
through the flames, with many perishing in screams, the insane men had pursued
them in their fishing canoes. But he had managed to reach the deep river and
had lost them in the smoke and rising mist of night.
Then there had been Petra on the first day, a young strapping man, with a good
head on his shoulders, and one of Del Marco’s trusted crew of two. Del Marco
had heard the shouts and screams and he and Danto, his first mate, had come
rushing to find Petra desperately clawing at the girl, trying to rape her! They
had tried everything but it was as if Petra had been a man possessed, which now
Del Marco knew was true, Danto had been forced to brain the poor foaming boy as
has been savagely chocking Del Marco. The boat hook had done more damage than
intended and they had slipped the dead orphans body into the river that night.
That same night some of the Mattock men caught up with them and tried to board
the ship and take the frightened girl. It had been a dozen howling men and the
girl had beaten almost all of them to a bloody pulp and tossed them into the
river to the feasting night crocs. Del Marco had put it to her obvious combat
skills much learned in her foreign nation, back in her great city from which he
was certain she had fled. He had thought once she had rested to offer her a
post on his crew then, what a fool!
It was the next morning still mindful of the glimpses of Mattock that still
pursued them and had taken an over land portage to catch up to them again in a
great bend of the river, and Del Marco howling at their endless drive and
obsessive madness for the girl, that he could not fathom, that he called out
for Danto and found no answer. With his hart beating fiercely in his throat he
had gone out in search of his first mate. Danto had a wife whom he deeply
loved, two children, never drank, never swore, prayed all the time. Del Marco
had found him in the girls cabin. He had drugged her meal, and had tired her up
as she slept, spread eagle to the bed posts, he was naked, his manhood
engorged, and only a mad insane light shone in his wide eyes above his
slavering jaws. He was about to mount the girl when Del Marco struck him with
the same boat hook which had killed Petra. But Danto was no scrawny boy, he was
a great bull of a man and the blow had only sent him enraged at Del Marco. It
had been a long brutal fight, during which the girl had awoke and used the boat
hook to sever her bonds.
It was she who in a display of inhumane strength had broken the giants neck and
picked him up like a pie plate and tossed him into the murky waters that
bubbled and hissed and swallowed his inert bulk before the roils and boils of
the ships wake had even passed over him. It had been then as the girl had
raised his best friends lifeless body over her head that Del Marco had caught a
glimpse of the Tuggie amulet worn around her neck, but he had not consciously
recognized it then. It had taken hours for it to fester in his subconscious and
arise again. In the meantime, he had given the girl his own cabin and not being
able to stomach the look of her after all of what had happened had secreted
himself to the wheel house keeping a look out for any remaining Mattock.
But now he knew who she was, she was a Tuggie, a witch who could posses a man,
or destroy him through sexual powers, and he could feel her even now trying to
use her powers on him! Del Marco shifted the weight of the heavy fire axe on
his right shoulder and the equally heavy coil of rope on his left and waited
for the light to cut through the river mist. He peered again and frowned, was
that the rapids he heard!
Sara Savage carefully removed the package of folded silk in which she kept her
costume and the plastic bag containing her boots and opened both and laid them
out on the seat of the two oak chairs, one of which had served as a night guard
to her door while she had finally got some rest! Looking over her costume the
amulet of the Tuggies glowed between the deep valley of her bountiful breasts,
and Sara felt a deep warm tingle in her breasts and snatch. Gone were the
bright colored shiny vinyl costume she had worn when she had pretended to be a
Super Heroine on her internet web page. Now Sara really was a Super Heroine!
The amulet gave her the combined strength of ten strong men, of course it also
gave her the combined lusts of ten horny perverts! It also gave her the power
of seduction and sexual allure over all things male, though that was proving
rather difficult for her as she had none of the necessary training of the
higher sisterhood of the Tuggies to know how to control that rather potent
power. It also gave her a great resistance to injury, a sharp knife which would
had sliced off her arm had only left a scratch during her struggle to flee with
the stolen artifact around her neck! And when a Tuggie had hit her with a car
in a parking lot, she had only been bruised. It also hurried up her healing
ability, but at a cost. All her new powers came at a cost. The great amulet she
had stolen was like a large battery and it needed to be recharged daily with
Sara’s own orgasms. This act kept the Tuggie occult charm bonded to her and
only her, but the amulet also needed to feed its self and for this it required
large amounts of man milk. The Tuggies were always on the lookout for special
males who could produce either a large quantity of spunk to feed their charms or
else a high quality so less would be needed. Michael had proven to be one of
those rare ‘bulls’ who had both, and the Tuggies used him to charge many such
amulets as the one she now wore.
Sara bit her lip, she did not want to think about what had happened to Michael,
and she dreaded thinking what she would do when the amulet needed to feed? It
was an easy thing for her to keep her channel bond to the amulet by
masturbating once a day while wearing it. Hell, with it on she found herself
masturbating almost constantly anyway! Anytime her mind spaced off or wandered
a little, she caught herself pinching a nipple or teasing her clit! But she
knew that soon the amulet would need to be feed and from what little she had
gathered about this particular amulet before she had snatched it, this once
would require the combined spunk of forty unexceptional males once a month!
Already she could feel its hunger as it nudge at her in her sleep. Every time
she closed her eyes she dreamed of nothing but enormous juicy cocks erupting
oceans of cum all over her, and she knew it was the amulet telling her it was
beginning to feel the gnawing of hunger.
She would have liked to have vanished into the deserted areas of the world
until she had mastered the fine points of her new powers, but knowing that she
would soon have to feed the amulet or else it would die and never return again,
made it absolutely vital that she remain near a large group of males in the up
coming week! Sara also dared not take off the amulet less all the long weeks of
increasing bonding which made the amulets power a reservoir for her use alone,
would be lost, and she would have to start all over again with the power open
to her use being very small indeed. Sara had leaned on the amulets power quiet
often in her breathless three weeks of cliff hanger escapes and she could now
feel, that despite the little snacks she had managed to feed it with the odd
cock here or there, that the power was beginning to sputter a bit when she
needed it most! Sara knew that soon she would have to break this starvation
diet she had the amulet on and cover it with gobs of man goop soon or else risk
the power within the amulet dying and it being nothing but an empty shell of
gold and emeralds around her neck!
Sara shook these fears out of her mind and picked up a piece of her costume and
held it before her, the amulet hummed and Sara smiled for it had already
learned the whenever she had worn this outfit, it had been fed! The amulet
throbbed as she began to put the piece on and the throb echoed deeply in her
loins casing Sara to gasp in pleasure and her head lolled back as she moaned
deeply, and when her fluttering eye lids parted and her eyes rolled back into
focus, it was Savage Girl who threw back her head and laughed!
Yes! Those were the rapids alright. Del Marco could hear them clearly even if
the mist had not thinned enough for him to be able to peer though its rainbow
dance under the rapidly rising sun and make them out yet. He turned to the
wheel house and began to shuffle along as rapidly as his quaking legs would go,
His upper lip sweated with the strain, he could now feel the almost physical
gravity force of her power dragging at him to turn and come to her in her
cabin. He reached out like a drowning man and grasped the jamb of the open
doorless portal of the wheel house and pulled with all his might like a man
dangling off a precipice. He grunted with the great effort and his muscles in
his neck stood out like steel bands as his eyes bulged with the strain.
Suddenly a figure appeared in the door way and stared at him with insane dead
eyes! It was one of the Mattock boat men! They had managed to over take them
again! Before Del Marco could react, the man snatched the axe off his shoulder
and planted it in the Nereid’s last captain’s forehead splintering his skull
down to his teeth. The taught body fell lax with an almost grateful slump and
pitched over the low railing as the vessel began to twist and roll in the
increasing currents.
Savage Girl almost fell as her cabin lulled and swayed wildly under her freshly
booted feet. She was just about to unbolt her cabin door when the handle leapt
furiously before her outstretched hand. Something in that mad impetuous rattle
sent her hackles rising and she instinctively stepped back from the door,
sliding into a wide stance as the floor once more rolled and pitched. No sooner
had she done this than with a resounding crash, an axe head cleaved its way
deep into the center oak panel of the state room door! Despite herself the
unexpected suddenness of the unlooked for item caused Savage Girl to utter a
short scream. The axe head seemed to recoil at this only to return, four, five,
six more times, until the entire upper panel of the door was gone and only a
jagged lip of splintered hard wood framed the most diabolical of sights. Savage
Girl stared in amazement at six demonic faced men so far gone in sleepless
obsessive primordial lusts that all sanity had been blasted out of their
brains. And behind them as they clawed and bite and gouged at one another,
fighting to gain access to her, Savage Girl saw the dark brown river foaming
and tossing in a mad roaring dash by the deeply pitching and rolling ship!
Bitterly Savage Girl realized she couldn’t make any use of the man milk of any
of these, they were a little TOO willing and would no doubt hump her right down
into a watery grave! She steeled herself with the coiled spring legs of a young
panther she launched herself! Not at the door and its furiously battling males,
but up at the vent between her room and the next, she sized the lip of the vent
in her powerful grip and with a mighty kick of her two iron hewed legs she
shattered the vent and much of its surrounding surface wall. She swung herself
gracefully through the ripped opening and found herself standing on the wall
table of the map and radio room. She did not hesitate but made for the nearest
door and exited out onto the ships gangway. She was on the opposite side of the
ship now than the sex zombies but even over the roar of the boiling river she
could make out their furious combat over her body. Savage Girl surveyed her
surroundings as she was forced to grab the brass railing for support as the
river plumes easily swamped over the low sides of the headless craft. Her side
of the ship was racing dangerously close to the river bank, with every rise and
fall of the ship in the incessant rapids, great chunks of forest greenery was
being torn away by the ships upper roof, Savage Girl grabbed the lip of the
roof and placed a giddy foot the wet slippery railing, and began to haul
herself up onto the roof of the speeding ship. Suddenly something caught her
ankle! It was a blood covered slobbering man, missing one eye from his fight
over her and one ear dangled scarcely attached to the side of his blood wet
head. His grip was like iron and to her shock and horror she found she could
not break it!
Savage Girl realized that the Tuggie amulet was withholding its power, it was
hungry and this was a source of food! Savage Girl shrieked and cursed and
kicked at the terrible thing but it pulled her slowly back down and toward its
twitching lips! Just as Savage Girl felt her grip on the canopy slipping, the
thing’s gripe went lax and it fell against her legs with a axe protruding out
of its back. Savage Girl cringed in disgust and scrambled up onto the roof just
escaping the new lusting threat that had thrown the fire axe out stretched
hands!
Once on the roof of the out of control boat Savage Girl struggled to regain her
footing and squatted in a wide stance against the deep swaying vessel. She
peered ahead of her, there was what she sought! A low overhang of heavy vines
clumping off a low heavy tree limb. She steeled herself for it. Beside her the
sex zombie pulled its self moaning up onto the roof. Savage Girl dared not risk
her footing or chance at the rapidly approaching limb by attacking the creature
and could only grit her teeth and hope she could make good her escape before it
was upon her! Suddenly to her horror she saw the course of the bucking ship was
leaning away from the shore and the limb, spinning back out into the central
channel! The thing was up on the roof and reaching for her, when with a shriek
of furry Savage Girl raced forward and leaped! Her left hand just caught a
thick vine and with her momentum she swung up and caught the limb with her
legs. For a second she hung there gasping for breath only to hear the horrible
moan of her would be suitor behind her, turning her glaring visage, she was
shocked to see the thing run straight off the roof of the rapidly receding boat
and plunge into the churning water never to resurface again. Savage Girl
suppressed a shudder and shook her head at the utter stupidity of men.
Professor Veldt der Nash, took his hat off his head and mopped his brow with
his sun burnt forearm. He was now certain that he was in a section of untouched
wilderness that no white man and few tribal natives had ever tread. There was
nothing but thick dense jungle for hundreds of square kilometers in any
direction and only a few small isolated river fishing villages dotted the long
angry patch of foaming water several kilometers to his back. He was alone, as
alone as if her were the last man on Earth! The jungle bush parted and there
before the startled man a tall, tan, long limbed, honey golden thick mane, ice
blue doe eyed, slim waist, large busted, broad shouldered, wide hipped, young
woman clad a few tatters of leopard skins, smiled at him with perfect white
teeth and before he could collect a single one of his bird scattered thoughts.
The white amazon drew knife from a skin sheath slung low over her full hip and
in an instant flung herself through the sun dappled small clearing right at him
with growling lions roar!