Date: Tue, 26 Oct 2010 00:00:58 -0400
From: tommyhawk1@aol.com
Subject: Choice of the Apakari

			   CHOICE OF THE APAKARI
			   By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
		      WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM

     Carl Jensen stood looking at the encampment. "When will the dozers
arrive?" he asked.
     "Supposed to be here in two more days. You mean you're going through
with this?"
     "We got a contract to put an airstrip on this island." he
said. "That's what we're going to do."
     "And the men who died?" Mossimo asked intently, his dark-skinned face
and dark eyes flashing in anger...or in fear.
     Jensen shrugged, his large shoulders moving his khaki shirt in a
rumpled but military fashion. With his blond, crewcut hair, solid, square
face, and broad, muscled arms attached to the barrel of his chest, tapering
down to a narrow waist with trim hips above two kegs of his legs, he
couldn't do anything that didn't look vaguely military, but he hadn't been
in the Army (Engineer Corps, of course) since V-J day. "Not my fault that
this island has vicious animals on it. They knew the risks."
     "You know that's not what the natives say happened."
     "The Kapashi call this island cursed." Jensen nodded. "Their tales of
the Apakari are a part of that. Me, I saw the bodies of the three who
died. We've got a jaguar or a small tiger of some sort on our hands, is
all. They hunt at night, strike at night, the natives hear a roar, they
find the blood or the bodies half-eaten, they just nod and blame it on
their Apakari demons."
     "How about that Japanese encampment we found?"
     Carl paused. That had been a nasty one. Back in the second World War
at some point, some fifty or so Japanese had taken refuge on this
island. None of them had ever left it. Their bodies had been found on the
island's eastern edge. "You know the Japanese soldiers, they wouldn't
change their procedures no matter what. So they didn't take proper
precautions against the island tigers...."
     "The Kapashi said the Apakari took them out in a single night."
Mossimo chattered. That glint in his eyes was definitely fear. "Said that
all their guns and all their grenades went on all through the night, and by
the first light of day, they were all dead. The Kapashi visit this place by
day, you know. They came to investigate and found those soldiers all
dead. One night, sir."
     "You don't have to stay here tonight." Jensen said to him
sharply. "Get on your boat and go. Me, I'm staying here. Someone has to
keep an eye on the camp supplies until we get our crews moved in here. I'm
going to set up a perimeter with ten foot high cyclone fence with a moat
filled with stakes around the outside. The way to deal with feral animals,
Mossimo, is to defend against them."
     "Best way to defend against them is to not be here."
     "Nobody is forcing you to stay." Jensen cast a significant glance at
the sun, only an hour before setting now. "I'm staying. Come back for me in
three days' time, with the dozers. I'll have laid out the defense perimeter
by then. I've placed an order for plenty of hunting rifles and an ample
supply of ammunition. My men can relax from their job duties by hunting
down the tigers in their off hours. We'll clean this island by the time the
strip is ready, I'll bet."
     "I'll come back in three days." Mossimo promised. And promised nothing
else. Jensen stood and watched the little boat traveling out to the larger
one and shook his head. So much superstition out here among all these
little islands. Religion mixed with loneliness and active imaginations,
every island had its own myth of the demon in the jungle. Sure, stir in a
few tigers hungry for meat and that would do it.
     For his own three days' stay, he would keep a careful eye out, a rifle
always loaded and at hand, and a large cage which he'd erected over his
sleeping tent. All sides and top, too heavy for any animal to move
significantly (and impossible to move without waking him), and he could
sleep soundly inside, no problem. Just to be safe, he'd keep his lantern
burning all night long as well. Half the stories of demons came from people
seeing things imperfectly in the darkness. He wasn't going to be one of
them.
     He ate the pre-packaged survival rations for his meal without thinking
much about them. They were filling, they were nutritious, they were a part
of his field regimen in such things. He warmed the packet and he ate them
and was done. That left a short time to wait until he was sleepy enough to
get into bed. He spent the time reading his worn copy of Mark Twain's "Life
on the Mississippi." A good man, Samuel Clemens was. Would have made a
crack engineer if he'd arranged his life differently, he had the right
slant on life to do things the right way, solidly, yet creatively. That was
the key for a good engineer, no doubt about it.
     "Woo-woo-woo-woo-woo-woo-woo-woo!" came the sound. Too deep to be a
bird's call, it was too liquid to be a wolf's. And there were no wolves on
these islands. Must be a bird, though a bass-toned bird was something
unique! No wonder the natives combined that sound with the tiger's victims
to create a demon.
     "Woo-woo-woo-woo-woo-woo-woo-woo!" That was a second one, nearly a
third of the way around an invisible circle whose center was Carl Jensen.
     Better to get into the tent proper. The fire was dying down
anyhow. Inside the cage, he could let the things howl.
     "Woo-woo-woo-woo-woo-woo-woo-woo!"
     "Woo-woo-woo-woo-woo-woo-woo-woo!"
     "Woo-woo-woo-woo-woo-woo-woo-woo!"
     Three more of them. Or maybe more. Jensen went into his cage and
closed the door, shifted the latch down and fixed the clamp that made it
impossible to be opened except by a human's hands. He chuckled ruefully at
himself for this added precaution (it made opening the cage door himself
awkward), but if it would help him sleep with these unknown noises (for the
sounds around him were now multiple, a whole pack of whatever-it-was'es
were out there wailing), he'd settle for that. He'd slept through aerial
bombardments and nighttime gunfire in the middle distance, he'd slept in
other jungles far more noisy at night than this one, he could manage if he
could convince his subconscious that he was safe. And the cage did that, he
sighed in quiet relief. Superstitious twaddle did that to a man, made him
doubt his common sense, damn it! The lantern he left hanging just outside
the tent, no reason to let it entice the insect population to buzz about
his bed. The tent flap itself he fastened snugly, making sure every snap
was firmly shut, let the mosquitos impale themself on the lantern's fire if
they would.
     Close to the equator, the night was too warm for his Nordic body to
sleep comfortably with clothes on beyond the bedcovers. He shucked down to
his boxers, and climbed in. The lantern outside made his tent glow golden,
more than enough light to see without being blinding in any way. Any tigers
got inside, he could see well enough to grab his pistol from the table next
to his bed and fire. The rifle stood resting on its butt, leaning against
the table, next to the pistol, he could get up from the bed and Tigers! A
tiger inside a tent that was inside a cage of cyclone-mesh wire! Not
likely!
     He lay back and closed his eyes. Damn, if those things out there would
just shut up, he could sleep! They sounded closer than ever, damn it! Like
they were right outside that cage!
     The sound of metal being shaken. Hard! Were those things trying to get
inside the cage? It weighed over three hundred pounds fully assembled as it
was, for an animal to move it, they'd have to.
     He heard the sound of the metal creaking. The unmistakable sound of
the cage being lifted and tipped! You couldn't tip something like that by
simple weight on top of the cage on one side, it was designed to avoid just
that happening!
     But with a creak-and-a-clatter, it fell over to one side. His tent was
now exposed to the jungle! Shit! Jensen got his pistol in hand. It wouldn't
be that useful to him if it didn't scare off the...things! Shit, maybe this
was some as-yet-unknown animal. He decided to start calling these things
the Apakari and modify it later when he got a look at them.
     Forms outside his tent. Human-shaped, but only vaguely. Tricks of the
light, nobody looked normal in his shadows especially when splayed across a
tent's dimensions.
     Maybe he'd better get the rifle ready too, just in case.
     Those were hands unfastening his tent flaps. Animal paws wouldn't do
that. Whatever was coming to him, they were human!
     "Who's there! Who are you!" he called.
     "Woo-woo-woo-woo-woo-woo-woo-woo!" was his only answer.
     And the tent opened up and the Apakari came inside.
     Yellowly glaring eyes, sharp fangs, sharp claws. That was what he saw
at first, and all he saw. Only later he saw their arms, their legs, their
heads, their shapes, all thickly covered with hair that was lush but
cleanly, like a cat's. Not human, no. But not animal. Something...else!
     He owed the local natives an apology. If these weren't demons, they'd
do until something else came along.
     If they rushed him, he was a dead man. He couldn't take out this many
of them at one time with a pistol, and the reach for the rifle would give
them time to reach and overpower him. And the rifle wasn't meant for close
combat!
     "Choose!" one of them said.
     It was so close to their usual wailing noise, he didn't realize at
first that was an actual word. "Choose?"
     "Choose!"
     "Choose what?"
     "To submit or not."
     Jensen didn't have to ask what happened if he didn't submit. "Submit
to what?"
     "To us."
     One of the Apakari shifted and that gave Jensen the look he needed to
understand, because what he saw was definitely a hard cock! "You want me
to...to...."
     "To submit to us."
     "All of you?"
     "All. Choose."
     Jensen gulped hard. He still had his pistol. He could try to fight
them still and...
     And there were four inside his tent and more outside. Even his best
shooting couldn't fight them all off. Some choice!
     He had to think fast. All the dead bodies told him what happened to
those who tried to fight the Apakari! Or maybe that was those who
submitted?
     "If I submit to you, will I live?"
     "Yes."
     His only choice, then. "I will submit." he said, and gulped hard. What
would they do with him?
     With a snarl and a rush, they came at him. His bedcovers were stripped
from his bed, and his boxers were ripped by their claws. He was naked in
seconds, a few hair-fine scratches on his thighs that itched but hurt no
worse.
     Their bodies landed on him, he felt the furry weights at his chest,
his arms, his stomach and between his legs. Light was cut off by their
forms, and his face was buried in one that was mostly a cock. Hot, hard and
wet-feeling, he had it pressed against one cheek, pulsing with a heat that
was hotter than any human dong he'd ever felt...not that he'd ever had one
against his own cheek, but he'd held another man's prong once, when they
were sharing a whore back in the days of worldwide war. And there was
another time, when a man had serviced him while he was more than half drunk
and his wits had been addled to where he'd allow a man to release his
body's seed. He'd had the man's prick against his leg, then...but this one
was hotter.
     And the Apakari shifted and the cock was lifted up and pressed against
his lips. With nothing else to do, Jensen moaned and opened his lips and
the hot pud slid inside his mouth. No need to slick this slippery pud up,
it had been encased in the creature's body and still was moist from that,
the flavor of it was heavy and raunchy, but not worse than that, the girth
of it was about that of a human's, he could hold it in his mouth easily
enough, the length of it was uncomfortably long but the Apakari's prompt
thrusts of it in and out of his mouth and throat made the discomfort an
intermittent problem, he only had to hold on and the thing did the rest.
     The other prongs were finding their purchases on his body. One shoved
itself into his left hand, and he closed his eyes in misery, gripped it and
let its sliminess slide in and out of his palm and fingers. A third prong
was pushing into his right armpit, the tip of it shoving against his
sensitive skin at the nexus of his arm and chest, and began to jab at him,
Jensen winced, but let it be.
     The fourth Apakari was probing its dong in between his legs, the cock
was finding its way to his anus from a direction underneath his testicles,
fucking at him from the front instead of lifting his legs or from
beneath. The cock found his nether entrance after an uncomfortable series
of jabs and pokes, and after that, the demon wriggled itself in its
blissful fucking of Jensen's anus.
     Other Apakari were rubbing themselves on exposed parts of his body,
his rib cage, his stomach, his left arm and his right (his right hand ended
up cupping the testicles of the one rubbing its dong on his right wrist!),
both legs. How many of these things were hunching at him right now!
     Then one of the Apakari, the one rubbing himself on his stomach,
shifted backwards and his own cock found itself sliding into the furry
buttocks. He felt a warm area touch the tip of it and moaned. Was his
degradation here to be so complete as this? Was he not to be allowed to
just endure this, but instead must he be forced to respond as this. He knew
enough to know that a man in forcible sex would have an erection and could
have an orgasm, all without his consent or by design, his body would
respond to the physical sensations alone and his mind could not veto it.
     And his dong did respond, and the creature grunted (he assumed it was
the one impaling itself on him) and shifted back again, worming Jensen's
prong into the taut anus. These Apakari probably fucked each other when no
human victims were available, nothing else would explain how this thing
took his sturdy, uncut Scandanavian prong deep into itself. The thing
crooned happily as it rode his pud.
     Jensen had cocks plunging in and out of both orifices, he could only
breathe by careful coordination, but something, somewhere in his psyche
clicked and released its hold on him. His cock went from being merely hard
to throbbing eagerly, his mouth began to suckle at the pud inside it, his
ass began to clench at the hot invader plunging in and out of him. His hand
clutched the dong tighter, and he suddenly wanted more, more, more!
     The cock fucking him exploded into him, hot juices filled his butt,
and he groaned. Another one sprayed on his chest, the one fucking itself on
him had ejaculated. More of the Apakari began to spray at his body and he
felt hot spunk peppering him all over. The Apakari ass that held his cock
in thrall was spasming as the creature climaxed, and that milked Jensen's
pud as he thrust upwards into the hairy ass, and that was all Jensen needed
to join in the general orgasm pervading the tent.
     "AH-UH-HUH, GUH-HUH!" he grunted around the hard pud stabbing into his
throat and his prod screamed its climax and he ejaculated into the
Apakari's bowels. The orgasm shook him so hard that he was choking on the
Apakari prick in his mouth and that was the moment it squirted into his
throat.
     Climax combined with hot spunk jetting into his throat was enough to
send Jensen into near asphyxiation, but his nostrils took up some of the
slack and he was able after a period of near-unconsciousness to fight his
way back to sensibility once again.
     Apakari left his body, to be replaced by more, and Jensen found his
body being flipped over onto his stomach. An Apakari slid onto his pillow
to present itself for Jensen's attentions, and another one drove into his
bowels and more cocks rubbed his still-clean back. Jensen no longer cared,
his brain had gone into some realm of self-preservation self-delusion, he
was sucking and fucking and he was loving it. An Apakari crawled under his
spunk-splattered body and slurped his dong into its mouth, the teeth
apparently retractile for only soft lips and softer tongue met his prick,
and Jensen moaned and hunched at the face, lost in his desire.
     All through the night it went on and on, and the supply of hot Apakari
cocks went on and on. For himself, Jensen found his own desire intensified,
and his cock surged to life again and again. Not since his horny days as a
soldier on the line had he experienced such a series of climaxes, and every
one was fresh and hot and new as the first.
     After some unknown time, he lay on his bed, naked, spunk-coated and
exhausted, and realized that he was alone. Rose up on his hands and looked
around. The first rays of sunrise were reaching into the sky.
     The Apakari had told the truth. He had submitted and he had survived.
     Now what?
     Mossimo arrived some days later, along with the first boatload of
men. He seemed surprised to see Jensen standing there waiting for him. "You
live, I see." was his first words.
     "I certainly do."
     "I brought your men and your guns." Mossimo pointed at his crew. "I
also brought shovels in case we needed to bury you."
     "Just help us unload the boat, and then I'll need to speak with my
men. They need to be briefed about life on this island. But the airstrip
will be operational on time."
     He had worked out a deal with the Apakari, one man each night to join
them outside the camp in their pleasure, and the rest would be left alone.
     Of course, the Apakari would get to choose which one they wanted each
night. Jensen just hoped they'd get back to him before too long.

				  THE END
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		  E-mail the Author at Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
		      WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM