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!