AN ATATUMBARI RITUAL
By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
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"Lepidoptera Triceratoptera." intoned Professor Fillmore, his large mustache dancing as he spoke like a spider on his lip.
"I beg your pardon." I said. An American student at Oxford University is in a delicate position, it doesn't do to antagonize any professor and practically any student during your residency at the place. I had gained strides with Professor Fillmore recently and was greasing that relationship with every bit of lickspittle I had.
"Lepidoptera Triceratoptera." Professor Fillmore said again. "My own discovery. A glorious specimen, eh what?"
"I should think so." I said diplomatically. "May I see it?" I wasn't really interested in seeing his 'Triceratops Butterfly' but greasing a professor's ego never hurt.
"Here's a sketch I made of the specimen." Professor Fillmore said. He showed me the page from the book, it was filled with his observation data and such sketches.
I examined the sketch. He had indicated that the major markings were gold and black. And I assumed that was red feelers it had like miniature feathers jutting out in front of it. "Very nice." I said. "But isn't that a moth?" Moths had feathery feelers like that...
You might have thought I suggested that the Church of England rejoin with Rome, from the reaction I got from the professor.
"A moth? A MOTH!" the professor was truly incensed. "My dear fellow, the moth can easily be distinguished from this butterfly by any mere child. The moth has a frenulum while the butterfly, as in this example, does not." The "frenulum" is a sort of bristle-like structure that hooks the moth's front and back wings together; butterfly wings are separate because they don't have one. I had to look that up later, same as you probably would have if I hadn't explained it to you here.
"I see." I said humbly while I did not.
"The conclusive difference is very obvious." the professor said. "In addition to the lack of any frenulum, the butterfly has a prominent proboscis. The moth, which does not eat after it leaves its cocoon, does not. You will also note the foreshortened abdomen on this specimen; a moth always has a formidable abdomen for storage of food during its short adult life cycle."
I was tempted to say, "You have a rather prominent proboscis and formidable abdomen yourself, professor." but as I was hoping to be taken with him on his expedition to Africa, I forbore my witticism. "I was taken by the feathery feelers." I said instead.
"Quite coincidental. Coincidental. Quite." Professor Fillmore began to settle down again. "Now, the urgency of my expedition is really quite simple. There was a damnable fire in the Natural History museum last month, you may have heard of it."
"I did, yes."
"Well, it burned up all three of my specimens of Lepidoptera Triceratoptera." the Professor said. "This is impossible. Already, some of my colleagues have dared to cast aspersions upon my discovery for failing to be allowed to examine the specimens that were lost."
"I can see why." I said. "The wings of your Triceratops Butterfly are quite...unusual."
"Yes, quite." the Professor harumphed. "A quite unique case of asymmetrical markings. I had hoped to return to Africa anyway to find more specimens in an attempt to explain this remarkable discovery." The "asymmetrical markings" the Professor mentioned were that while the butterfly's left wing in his sketch bore a single black horn-like decoration from its body out to two-thirds the way out the primary wing, the right wing had two horn-like decorations of equal length, though neither as long as the one on the left side. The entire right wing was a bit smaller and a slightly different shap, as well. It was like you had one wing from one butterfly and the other from another butterfly entirely. Small wonder there had been questions about his specimens! I said as much, about the wings looking like they were from different butterflies, that is.
"That's just what that blighter from Camden has dared to intimate." Professor Fillmore said. "I have invited him with me on the expedition so that I can show him a specimen freshly caught, or better yet, on the wing."
"Will I be permitted to attend as well?" I asked cautiously. "You know my own desire is to become a zoologist and this expedition of yours...."
"Of course, of course." the Professor said. "Quite. Yes. Wouldn't go without you, in fact. Must have a young chap along. Quite."
"Very good sir." I decided to quit while I was ahead.
"Yes, you should make ready at once, for we sail for the mouth of the Mikonapopolo River on the first of the month!"
"Jolly good, Professor!" I said, exuberant as you can well imagine.
The trip was as difficult as you can imagine, taking place in December as it did. But we were heading for the equator, and weather would simply cease to be a problem once we got far enough south. Still, I spent the first two weeks mostly in my cabin, suffering a hideous bout of mal de mar, and when I got up, the feud between Professor Fillmore and Professor Bigsworth was well underway.
For example, Professor Bigsworth fancied himself a sportsman and was taking along a rather impressive array of artillery. His intended purpose in this as he stated it ad nauseum at every meal was that he didn't want to waste the entire trip chasing Professor Fillmore's fictitious butterfly, but would instead spend his days more profitably involved in hunting such game as he could, both for the pot, and for taxidermists to preserve for decorations about his estate.
So it was a pretty grotty trip and I was relieved when we left the steamship and embarked upon a smaller vessel up the Mikonapopolo River toward the territory of the Triceratops Butterfly.
Professor Bigsworth was appalled to learn that he could not retain any bearers to ferry his arsenal into the area we were heading for, and he sufficed by carrying a single shotgun for his use on the trip. He muttered about taking a side-trip to Tanganyika when we were back from our unicorn hunt. For myself, I learned that the expedition would be only the three of us. This didn't daunt the professor, but then, he had me to carry an exceptionally heavy pack for the journey. I realized that this was why he said he couldn't go with me, he had been here before, after all!
So I was sweating my way through the jungle while Professor Bigsworth plied a machete to our route and Professor Fillmore spent his time sketching in his book and capturing several nice specimens of butterflies for his collection. Me, I spent my spare time heaving for breath and drinking water to replace what I'd sweated away on the trek.
After a week of this, I heard the Professor exclaim. "Ah, there they are!"
Finally, I heaved a sigh. "What is it?" I asked, hurrying forward. "The butterflies?"
"No." the Professor pointed out. "The Atatumbari."
"Atatumbari?" I said quizzically, then I saw them. "Natives!" I exclaimed.
Solemn and spear-bearing, they came toward us. Professor Bigsworth said, "Should I pot a couple of them and scare them off?"
"No, no, no need for that." Professor Fillmore said. "They have some odd rituals, but are friendly enough once they are done."
"What kind of rituals are those?" I asked. "Will we be allowed to watch?"
"Watch?" Professor Fillmore said. "Why, my dear boy, you will be joining their ritual. Quite. Yes. Quite."
"Me?" I said in a small, panicked voice. There were a half dozen of them, all men in their twenties and thirties, a hunting party, perhaps.
"You didn't mention that in our planning for the expedition." Professor Bigsworth said to Professor Fillmore.
"A minor technicality." Professor Fillmore said. "Once they finish with young Beckett here, they'll be as chummy as you could wish."
"Finish with me?" I dropped the heavy pack, though whether to greet the natives or run like hell, I really couldn't tell you even now.
"Now, now, dear boy, don't interrupt me. Must make sure I enunciate properly. Arumph, uhmph!" he cleared his throat.
The leader of this group declared a statement, the professor gave a response, whereupon the leader stamped his spear butt on the ground and made a demand. And the professor then indicated me! I did my best to look dignified and pleasant, all I could figure out to do.
The leader looked at me, spoke to his men, they answered, and the professor said, "Ah, jolly good, they agree to accept you."
"They do?" I said. "Accept me for what?" I looked at their leader, a hugely muscled dark brown man with burly arms and big, strong-fingered hands. He wore only a piece of blue cloth about his waist, and I stared to see that below it, I could just see the head of his dong! That thing must be huge when it's hard! I thought.
"You'll see, cooperate with them, be a good chap."
"I say, they aren't going to hurt young Beckett, are they?" Professor Bigsworth asked.
"Yeah, are they?" I wanted to know.
"Everything will be fine if you will just play along with them." Professor Fillmore said. "Now, go over to him, that's a good fellow."
I went dubiously. And was pretty much grabbed by the leader. What was he doing?
"Professor?" I said. "He's trying to have my trousers off."
"Yes, yes, part of the ritual, eh, what." was Professor Fillmore's response.
"Oh." I said. My knickers followed my trousers, and I was soon bare from the waist down to my ankles. I covered my nakedness with my hands as best I could.
"You'll need to take your pantaloons and boots entirely off." Professor Fillmore advised.
"You're certain they're friendly?" I asked.
"Oh, very friendly. Just their ritual, now be a good chap."
"Be a good chap." I muttered as I fought my boots free in the middle of the jungles of Africa. "Yowch!" I had just been stung on my buttock by what felt like a sizeable mosquito. I swiped at it and stood up and that caused me to topple over onto my face. Before I could get up, I felt a strong hand at the small of my back and hands pulling my pants and remaining boot from my body.
"Professor, he's holding me down."
"Yes, yes, quite." Professor Fillmore said.
"Part of the ritual?" Professor Bigsworth asked.
"Yes, quite."
I regarded the leaves strewn on the jungle floor as I was held in my place, on my knees and on my chest, unable to lift myself on my arms due to that hand on my back
"Now what the devil is he doing?" asked Bigsworth.
"Preparing himself for the ritual." Fillmore answered.
"Oh, my word! How disgusting!"
"Primitive people, you know."
"Yes, quite, but my word." Bigsworth said. "You really feel young Beckett should go through with this ritual?"
"It's the only way to get to the territory of the Triceratops Butterfly." Fillmore said. "We must go through the lands of the Atatumbari."
"I say!" Bigsworth said. "I think he's about to do it."
"Do what?" I wanted to know. And that's when I felt it! A thick hard cockhead pressing at my anus! "What? What?" I babbled. "What's this? AH-GURRRRRGGHHH!" That last was my gurgling moan when that huge pud shoved itself into me.
"Oh, my word!" Bigsworth said. "That's not a very nice thing for him to do!"
No shit, Sherlock! I thought. What I said was "AH-GUGHHH-HUHHH-GUHHH!" as three more shoves sent that huge prong deeper and deeper into me.
"My word, I do believe he has buried himself inside poor Beckett's bunghole!" Bigsworth pointed out.
"Ah, good!" Fillmore said. "Now the ritual can begin in earnest."
"Begin?" I whimpered.
"Yes, first the leader of this hunting party will give young Beckett a truly hard pounding. Notice how he's rising up on the balls of his feet so he can gain a better leverage. Ah, now, there he goes. Notice how vigorous and rapidly he fucks Beckett's ass!"
"AH-HUH-HUH-HUH-HUH-UH-HUH!" I groaned as I was shaken by the intensity of the thrusts.
This leader is showing his mastery of the situation as well as demonstrating his virility. Fertility is such an important thing among the more primitive cultures, you understand."
"Ah, yes, quite." Bigsworth agreed. "Still, it does seem a bit rough on young Beckett here."
"You're...uh!...telling...me!" I got out as I was rocked back and forth. My God, I was being rammed like a piledriver was pounding a piling into my butt! I struggled up onto my hands and knees, but with those massive hands at my waist, I wasn't going anywhere.
"What are those other natives doing now?" Bigsworth commented.
I looked up. One of them was fondling his hard cock, which he had lifted from under his wrapping, watching me being fucked by his chieftain or whoever the hell had his cock up my ass. The others were watching intently, hands on their still-covered cocks. They were murmuring to each other in liquid syllables of a tongue I had never heard spoken before.
"Why, I believe they are trying to decide which of them gets to use young Beckett next."
"Next?" I whimpered.
"Are they all going to have a go at the chap, then?" Bigsworth asked.
"Oh, indubitably." Fillmore said. "The sharing of assets is a fundamental rule among the hunter-gatherer tribes around the world, you know. What one has, they all have."
I was going to be gang-banged here? My God! I already felt tender from the one still-pounding dong in my butt! I licked my lips, and the one with his cock out stepped a bit closer.
"Ah, I believe young Beckett is going to help ready the next one." Fillmore opined
"Really?" Bigsworth said. "How revolting!"
"Oh, but it will do a great deal toward making us accepted among the Atatumbari." Fillmore said. "Beckett, my lad, be a good fellow and help that one out, will you, there's a good chap!"
"Good chap!" I muttered. "Hell, if I gotta take this thing, I want it greased up but good!" The second native's prong was within my reach and that's what I did, I rose up slightly, the leader's hands making me sway my low back into an arc to do it, and I caught hold of that hard cock and the native stepped forward and I stuffed that prod into my mouth!
"Yes, now, he's really getting into it." Fillmore said. "We'll be welcomed by the Atatumbari for sure with a greeting ritual like this going for us!"
I tasted a quite-clean dong (most African tribes are as fastidious as Americans about frequent and daily baths, not a problem in the water-laden tropics) and I sucked on it and that's when two more natives stepped up to either side and knelt beside me. I took a pud in each hand, and soon I was going from cock to cock and back again.
The leader finished up with a roar of triumph and I got a hot load of African jizz right up my kiester, and then Number Two was ready for the races. I took the brief opportunity the break afforded to roll onto my back and raised my legs, this let me take the two kneeling natives in my hands and a fourth, who knelt down by my head, fed me his cock while the second native shoved his lubed-up schlong right into my butt. I felt the hot jizz of the first native's squim squelch and blurp around the shaft of the second native's cock, and that just seemed to excite Number Two more.
A cock in my ass, a cock in my mouth and two more, one in each hand, plus two more waving in the background waiting for their chance! I groaned and I felt my cock rise up hard as a sonofabitch!
"My word, is Beckett actually enjoying himself?" Bigsworth stared at my prod.
"It's not an uncommon thing, you know." Fillmore said. "One must expect this sort of thing when a young man is taken in this way. I daresay he'll be a butt-rammer from now on. The price you pay for discovery, you know. It was a high price, but one I was willing to pay."
He was willing to pay! I was the one paying it, with my butt and my mouth and my hands! I would have told him off, but it's kind of hard to talk with your mouth full.
Number Two finished up and I got a second hot load of jizz into my butt, and he pulled out, and I expected Number Three (the guy I'd been sucking now, the two kneelers were Numbers Four and Five, while Six and Seven waited their turn) to take his place, but instead, Four and Five lifted me up by my arms and I was carried/dragged a few steps, and then I found myself being lowered onto a sitting Number Three's cock. He was sitting on a stump or something (I couldn't tell, it was covered with vines and leaves and such, could have been anything, and I ended up squatting on him and I got the message and began to bounce up and down on his prick.
"Ah, yes, the highest honor!" Fillmore said. "Saw this on my last trip, when the young man offered for the ritual becomes the active mover, the one he is, er, moving upon is honored."
"Seems to me the blighter is just lazy." Bigsworth opined.
"Not at all." Fillmore said. "He has gained in honor here. If Beckett can bring him to his finish in this manner, the leader will be hard-pressed not to have to give way to this new one."
I was presented with Number Four's cock to suck, and began to milk it. These natives wanted to fuck an American, well, by God, I'll give them more than they were expecting, by God. I'd ride every last one of these fuckers, then let them fight it out for who was Top Dong of the Atatumbari!
I did finish off Number Three like that, but wasn't permitted a chance to do that for the others, instead, I was instead pushed back down and I was on my knees again, being fucked doggie-style by Number Four while Number Five got himself slicked up. Numbers Six and Seven presented themselves for their handjobs and I ended up with a well-fucked ass as they all took their turns, first to be lubed up by my mouth, then they each fucked me lustily and hard until they squirted in my ass. Toward the end, I was having geysers of come squirting out of my butt when they did that, there was no more room inside me and it had to fly out, and it did, and that was a source of marvel and amusement for the Atatumbari. Professors Fillmore and Bigsworth were suitably disgusted, apparently a good Britisher would have managed to hold it all in or something!
All I know is that when I finished with Number Seven, I got Number One all over again, this time he laid me on my back and he loved me quite gently. If he had done that the first time, I thought as I watched his face, I would have thought a lot more kindly about him. As it was, he worked my ravaged butt in a way and with a style that had me groaning and I ended up squirting my load right up onto his chest, and when I did, he grinned and pulled out again, not coming, apparently his intent had been solely to make me come that final time.
"And now the ritual is complete." Fillmore put in as I gathered my clothes and what scraps of dignity I could manage. The Atatumbari went back to the jungle, to their village or to hunt or whatever they were doing. "We now have the right of passage upon Atatumbari territory."
"So what was I, your ticket?" I said, more than a little offended here.
"Oh, come now, one must expect these little surprises when one journeys in the darker lands of Africa." Professor Fillmore said. "I know tribes that would have killed you and rendered you down for their stewpot. I think an afternoon's dalliance wasn't such a high price to pay."
"So says you." I said. "I'm just glad it's all over with."
"Yes, so it is." Professor Fillmore said. "Until the next time, at any rate."
"Next time?" Bigsworth asked.
"Next time?" Mine was more a screech of anguish.
"Oh, yes, as long as we're on Atatumbari territory, they'll send out little expeditions from time to time, to check on our progress and renew the ritual."
"You mean I'm going to be gang-fucked as long as we're in Africa?" I shrieked.
"I say, that's rather hard on young Beckett, you know." Bigsworth put in. "Not quite cricket, and all that."
"Yeah!" I agreed heartily.
"Don't you think we should try to make other arrangements for the Atatumbari while we're here?" Bigsworth said.
"I don't know what you're on about." Professor Fillmore said. "Young Beckett is perfect for the job. It's why I wanted him on the expedition to begin with."
"Why me?" I demanded to know.
"Why Beckett?" Bigsworth asked.
Professor Fillmore said. "Choosing one of the other students would have been sacrificing part of the flower of the British aristocracy. Young Beckett here is only an American."
"Ah, yes, quite right." Bigsworth said.
"Only an American?" I said, dumbfounded.
"Better him than one of our own, you know." Fillmore said.
"Quite right." Bigsworth and Fillmore were heading on down the path.
"Think we could get some of them to act as bearers if we gave them Beckett at night for their fun?"
"They might well, we must try to ask them when they come back again, probably tomorrow, a new offering is always very popular among them as you can well imagine, they'll be regular visitors for a while."
"Oh, then, jolly good, I can get one of them to be my guide while I go hunting." Professor Bigsworth said.
"And goodness knows I'll never find my beloved Lepidoptera Triceratoptera without their help." Professor Fillmore agreed. "Young Beckett can keep my helpers happy while they help me track down a dozen or more good specimens. Can't lose them in a fire again like last time, you, now.
"Oh, yes, quite."
"Oh, now, Professor...." I went after them; they were quite a ways into the jungle now.
Professor Fillmore looked back. "The pack, boy, bring the pack with you. We have two more days to travel, then we can make camp."
I went back for the pack, shouldered the monstrous burden, the weight making my sore ass whimper and more jizz leak out into my pants. I had to catch up to them before they'd hear me. I was going to argue all I could. But I figured from the start I was going to lose.
And I did.
THE END
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