I couldn’t buy it. Eyeing her beautiful nudity, consigning her to death by drowning seemed like a helluva waste of pulchritude to say the least. So I exercised my godhood and remonstrated with her would-be executioners. Since I was a god, they bowed to my wishes and spared her life. The result was that she became my responsibility.
In accomplishing this, I created a myth. To Crap and the others, it seemed like I was exercising my godhood in establishing a tolerance of the underdog, a sort of Messiah-like guardianship of the weakest of the weak. Since they would never have regarded her in this fashion, they took my consideration of her right to live as further evidence of my godhood. They didn’t quite understand it, but they accepted it as a whim of a god who could find value in the life of an inferior being, a value which they couldn’t see themselves, but nevertheless wouldn’t question.
Thankful to be alive, the blonde stuck to me like glue. When we got back to our plateau, she stayed at my side as if she was afraid that if she left me, she would indeed be killed. She was quite pitiful, since she accepted the standards around her and seemed to tacitly grant her inferiority to the other women. On the other hand, she was female enough to direct her attention to my corporeal side, rather than strictly to my godly attributes.
This became interesting after nightfall. The tribe was all bedded down when she crept under the hides I used as blankets and timidly snuggled up to me. By this time, it had been a while since my penal problems had been bugging me, and I must admit that she elicited a certain response from me. To be honest, I would really have had to be other-worldly to resist her.
Her body was warm—-indeed, burning—as she pressed against me. I became acutely aware of the nipple of one of her breasts digging into my forearm. It was quite rigid, and the soft flesh surrounding it was rising and falling rapidly with her daring to approach a god on so earthly a level.
However, I soon threw my godhood to the winds. The feel of her quivering thigh under my hand was enough to remind me of how long it had been since I’d performed as a man. Her hot breath in my ear made me completely forget that gods weren’t supposed to indulge in such activities. I embraced her and she responded with a fury of passion that I imagine must have been bottled up inside her for some time.
Her sharp little teeth nipped at my shoulder. Her moist hands slid over my chest and belly and trembled as they grazed the golden proof of my godhood. She pressed her breasts against my chest until I could feel the mingling of our heartbeats.
I slid my hand down her back until I felt the deliciously fleshy globe of her derrière. She squealed at the caress and her mouth slid down from my shoulder and over my chest in a flurry of kissing bites that aroused me greatly. “Gramble gruk,” she whispered in my ear passionately.
“You can say that again,” I told her, stroking her smooth belly and allowing my fingertips to trail over the soft, downy triangle pointing the way to her pulsating love nest.
“Gramble gruk,” she repeated, writhing under my touch.
Whatever it meant, I was for it. I kissed her on the lips. For a moment she stiffened, as if surprised by a contact she’d never known before. But her attitude quickly changed and her soft lips seemed to melt under the pressure of mine. When the tip of my tongue touched hers, it was as if a spark had passed between us and ignited her. Sharp nails raked my back and her body arched against mine with a hunger that said her shyness towards my godhood had been forgotten.
When the kiss was over, she was panting and thrashing about wildly. She seemed to be everywhere at once, assaulting my body with an eager—yet somehow tender— violence. She continued to use her nails and her teeth, but despite her frenzy she used them with control. She grew less active-—although her body became taut as an over-wound spring—when my hand found its way between her creamy thighs to play with the slippery little clitoris nestled there.
She moaned as I manipulated the sensitive polyp of distended flesh. Her hands fluttered to her breasts and she squeezed them. Then she cupped them and drew my mouth to the long, hard tip of one of them. I caught it between my lips and she moaned again.
I let one of my legs fall across her hip and her body arched to meet me. My golden saber of desire slid up thighs that were soft and burning. And then it filled her pulsing cup of passion and the rhythmic sounds of our love-making filled the primeval night.
The girl was as wild as the time and the place. The ecstatic climax of our first joint venture only whetted her appetite. Judging by what followed, that appetite was insatiable. Here, wrapped up in one small package, was all the erotic pressure represented by the long lines of women in Saigon. Then it had been so great that I’d had to flee it. Now, after three encores, I merely fell asleep.
It was dawn when I awoke. The blonde was gone. Some time during the night, she’d stolen silently away.
I was surprised. It wasn’t mere ego that told me I’d given her satisfaction. She’d made it obvious that her reverence for my golden sword had grown with activity. So why had she fled?
The answer came later in the morning, after Crap and the other men had left for the day’s hunt. Geek and I were the only males left at the campsite. We sat out in the mid-morning sun and watched the women at their tasks of cooking and washing and the children playing at some prehistoric game of tag.
A sudden movement on the side of one of the hills ringing the plateau caught my eye. I called Geek’s attention to it and we strode over to the other side of the clearing for a closer look. From our new vantage point, we could make out a group of naked cavemen with clubs. My blonde playmate was with them.
My assumption was that it was a return raid and they were after our women. Geek thought otherwise. He managed to get across to me that it wasn’t the women they were after, but me! The blonde had reported on the potency of my godhood, and they had come to steal the golden god of fertility and claim him for themselves. Watching her point me out, seeing the men gesture towards me as if making plans for my capture, I realized that Geek was right.
It’s nice to be wanted, but-— But there can be drawbacks. I began to appreciate that a few moments later when they launched their attack.
Our Women ran squealing. Geek retreated behind a rock. The invaders descended on me and pinned me to the ground. It was then that I realized with horror that they didn’t want all of me, but only the golden portion they considered magical. They had sharpened the edge of a flat rock and now they bent over me to dis-attach the particular items they idolized. The blonde stood there, over me, pointing out the spot where they should cut to insure the neatest separation. It was a little like a housewife instructing her husband as to the best place to make the initial mcision in carving up the Thanksgiving turkey.
But this turkey wasn’t ready for the pot! I kicked out with a drumstick and caught one of them in the bread-basket. As he doubled over, I winged another with a solid right cross and knocked him off his perch on my breast. With his weight no longer pinning me, I was able to scramble to my feet and run. I got my ‘part-that-goes-over-the-fence-last’ out of there as fast as I could.
Geek was standing in the entrance to a cave, motioning me to seek refuge with him there. He hurled rocks at my pursuers and I gained the time to get there. Geek gathered more rocks into a pile so we’d be ready for them. The cave was very shallow and I realized we were really cornered there. I’d soon be one detesticled god, unless-—
I spotted a stout tree branch among the kindling which had been stored in the cave against the rain. It was in the shape of a Y. Some carved-up dinosaur meat was also stored there. Looking at the branch and the discarded dino entrails, I had an idea.
I dug a hole right at the entrance to the cave and embedded the Y-shaped branch there solidly. Then I carefully selected a length of dino gut and tied both ends of it to the points of the Y. I pulled back on it with my weight and the whole branch came back under the pressure. That was bad. But the string of gut was elastic, and that was good. I got Geek to lean against the base of the Y so that his weight would counter mine when I pulled back on the dino gut. It worked. By putting a stone in the center of the gut sling, I could fire it with great force and velocity. Much larger stones could be fired that way than could be thrown. They would travel faster, and farther, and they would hit harder.