Cannibals & Headhunters By Bald Hairy Man
This is a story for adult men. It depicts gay sex. If this offends or bothers you, DO NOT READ IT. It is a fantasy and is not a sex manual, or a discussion of safe sex. If you have, comments send them to bldhrymn@yahoo.com or bldhrymn@aol.com
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To say the whole expedition was ill conceived understates the situation. Arthur Montague, a hedge-fund billionaire, was looking for a publicity stunt in his battle with British billionaire Rodney Balfour. Rodney liked to explore strange places and do daredevil stunts. Arthur was the spoiled son of a millionaire publisher who thought he was god's gift to the world, a self-made genius and deep thinker. They were rivals.
Arthur mostly played golf, pontificated on cable news channels and raked in money from his father's companies. He was the sort of man who could fill in as a guest for a talk show on Saturday afternoons. He always had something to say.
Rodney was undertaking an expedition to the Amazon either to make contact with unknown tribes, or to find a missing city of gold. The official reason was to seek out primitive tribes, but Rodney's publicity people whispered about the mythical cities of gold. That was meat and potatoes for the fake-science, cable channels on television.
In response, Arthur proposed mounting an expedition to New Guinea to find rare plants with near magical healing properties. He was a big donor to an institute for natural healing, so that provided the excuse. Arthur planned his expedition for August when the news was thin on the ground he could get good television coverage.
I am a photographer and I was going through a real rough financial patch in my life at the time. The expedition needed a photographer, the paid well and I was available. When first I saw the yacht, I was impressed. It was a beautiful, very expensive and luxurious. When I met the crew, I realized they were well suited for Newport or Fort Lauderdale, but they weren't old sea dogs. There was nothing about the ship or its crew that suggested a scientific expedition.
I soon realized the expedition was essentially a hoax. As far as I could tell, they were planning to have a three-month long cocktail party in the south Pacific with a few quick visits to the jungle. If I had not needed the money, I would have left. I really needed the cash. I left from Honolulu in early July on Arthur's yacht. Most of the expedition staff and Arthur would join us in Australia.
There was one major disaster before we even left Sydney. The Vice President of the United States vanished for a week and then reappeared in a Brazilian whorehouse. Arthur's vision of massive television coverage vanished. For the networks, the choice between a scientific expedition and a Brazilian whorehouse was an easy one to make.
Arthur stayed in Sydney and sent us out to sea without his guiding hand. The Captain was to contact him if we found anything worthwhile. He would fly out to meet us if there was a photo op.
Two weeks after we sailed to New Guinea there was a second disaster, a tsunami. It struck when we were off the coast. The coast was largely uninhabited where it hit, so the story got almost no coverage. The yacht vanished, but I was on a smaller boat scouting out the coast with two crewmembers, an Australian Aborigine named Albert and a sailor named Gus. Gus was a barrel-chested, muscular sailor. We had hit it off on the yacht. He was a man's man and gay as a goose. He was aggressive and open' I am shy but receptive. We had entertained each other on the long voyage. Albert was a University educated anthropologist and scholarly, but he shared sexual interests. He joined us making up a threesome. We were on the small boat both because the waters were uncharted near the shore. The Captain was afraid to get too close to the coast. We had genuine scientific interests and were exploring. I admit we could have more fun away from the ship.
The wave picked up our boat and deposited us 1000 feet inland. We had no idea what happened to the yacht. We knew only that they did not search for us. We were only bruised, but the boat was smashed along with its equipment and radio. Gus was a grizzled old man who seemed to take things in stride. Albert was in a state of shock.
The wave ripped off most of our clothes along with the food we had packed and anything that could be considered useful. We were semi-naked, hungry men in an inhospitable jungle. The next day turned even worse, when eight tribesman carrying two severed heads appeared. They did not seem to like us at all.
While they did not like us, they didn't kill us right off. I hoped that was a good sign. They herded us deeper into the jungle. We did eat some fruit we found on the way. Gus thought they had never seen white men before and were unsure of what we were. Albert thought we might be trophies, interesting oddities, or dinner.
They were all muscular and well built, but we were a good bit taller than they were. They carried war clubs and seemed to be very vigilant and prone to take offence. We went deep inland towards the jungle-covered highlands. I luckily had substantial sandals that made walking somewhat easier. I also wore the remains of some old shorts. The tsunami had ripped them and they fell off on the third day. I was naked.
I was the tallest man in the group at six-two. I was also the best hung. The tribesmen found that interesting. They played with my genitals some and seemed amused. Amusement seemed a lot better than being hostile, so I did not object. Frankly, we were in no position to object to anything.
The tribesmen wore only a string belt and a necklace. Gus's clothes had survived the wave. He was a Scot with a bushy white beard and hair. The men were interested in his clothes and took them off. I think they wanted to make sure a human body was under the shirt. Gus was an exceptionally hairy red head. While his beard was white, his chest hair was still red, and that caused a stir. He had huge balls and an average cock. The men liked the balls. Albert was smaller, but well equipped genitally.
As we hiked deeper inland the tribesmen seemed to mellow. I think they decided were we men who were sort of like them and concluded that we had no violent tendencies. Albert was a linguist and studied aboriginal languages. He began to figure out some words, mostly related to fruit and eating.
On the fourth day, we stopped for the night near a pond next to a mountain. It must have been a spring fed pond, since the water was clear and moderately cool. Most ponds we had seen before were dank and fetid. I jumped into the water and swam. This seemed to amaze to the tribesman. They did not know how to swim.
We later found out they were a highland tribe and only did a rudimentary dog paddle. I showed the bravest of the men how to do it. They were terrified of deep water. He got the hang of it, but I had to save him several times. I didn't know it at the time, but this was a big deal for them. In their world, if you had a chance to kill your enemy, you took it. Saving him was unexpected and puzzling to them.
We didn't know if the tribe had fire. We ate fruit most of the time and we huddled together in the relatively cool nights. Gus, who was continuously horny, took that as an opportunity to suck my cock. The man I had taught to swim saw us and came over.
I think he thought Gus was eating my cock. We straightened that out, but the man was still puzzled. Since I hadn't let him drown, he trusted me. I leaned over and sucked him. That was a total success. I licked his organ, peeled back his thick foreskin and got him excited. When he shot off, I took his load. I did this with obvious pleasure. He had a nice cock and shot a big load. It was notably rich, creamy and a bit fruity. That must have been due to our diet. I didn't know it, but I was the first person to suck a cock in the tribal group.
We called him Headman. He was both the leader of the hunting group and carried the older of the severed heads. The head was both a trophy and a mark of status. Albert later found out that spilling man seed was a major sin. This was similar to Onan's sin in the Bible. When I took Headman's cum, I swallowed. He had not thought of sperm as food.
As a subsistence culture, they wasted nothing. Headman thought that eating sperm was obviously good since feeding a friend could not be a problem. Indeed, you could regard it as an honor. He later told his friends about it and all seemed to like the concept. Sex is its own reward and we bonded with the tribesmen. Gus and I were good and enthusiastic cocksuckers. Albert was less interested, but he made the sacrifice.
There were strange aspects to this that worried me. I did not know if I had to serve all the men and if I was up to the task. I was sure Gus wouldn't have a problem. He described himself as a horny bastard, and he was always willing.
I soon discovered I was willing, eager even. Bonding with the tribesmen could only be good for us. There was no other entertainment option available. I finally admitted to myself that I loved doing it. We all had a good time.
The Headman was the first man brave enough to take our loads. Gus had huge, productive balls and shot a massive load. The red haired man was also manly and enthusiastic. Gus was always willing and never got tired. He could take a licking and keep on ticking. It would have been more correct to say he could take a licking and keep on shooting.
Gus and I were the higher status playmates. We were both big, well-endowed and a bit exotic. The men liked big. I was afraid this might leave Albert unhappy. Albert was uneasy about it all, liked to serve the younger men. That was good for him and for us. Gus and I would not have been his first choice on the yacht if younger, willing men had been available. He liked helping young men with their careers, if you get my drift.
On the seventh day, we reached the tribal village. There were about thirty men there. Women lived separately in another village. Albert loved this arrangement. It fit the pattern of aboriginal villages. It was a subsistence economy and over population was a threat to a culture with limited resources. The tribe strictly controlled mating. Albert was learning the language and eventually came to understand the arrangement.
Random sex with women was strictly forbidden, and mating was carefully planned. Many cultures treated women as being disposable. Childbirth was dangerous and only the strong survived. This tribe respected women and accorded them high status. They farmed in a rudimentary way, the men hunted. A good crop was honored as a great achievement, as was a successful hunt. Men did the heavy lifting, but they treated women well and greatly honored pregnant women.
The oldest men and women ruled the two villages, and I did not know how they would take three strangers. The hunting team that had captured us was the next generation of leaders. They were honored and respected by the elders.
In a subsistence culture, elders are maybe forty years old. You are an adult when you can grow a beard if you are a male. Normally a girl would become adult when she had her first period. This tribe delayed this to the age of 16 or17. Young girls were too fragile for early childbirth. Actually, I had no idea how old any of them were. The rough living conditions and unsure diet made it hard to guess age.
Gus was almost sixty and ancient by tribal standard. His muscular body and red hair were almost a sign of divinity for the tribe. They had never seen anything like him. I am 45 so the saw me as being very old. I was also unusually tall, but they did not seem to see me as an anatomical wonder; they saw me as an intellectual giant. I could swim and teach them to swim. That was a marvel beyond imagining for them. I was also a fertility figure. I think they thought I was a teacher or a prophet.
In some ways, I felt as if I had fallen down the rabbit hole. None of the usual standards of behavior seems to apply. In their isolation, they had developed their own culture. They had only what they could grow, find or catch. There was no salt and no herbs. Food was bland or bitter. Headman thought that Gus' ball juice was a tasty treat. The sweet slightly bitter taste of sperm was exciting.
I was not a cum hound, but I didn't mind the taste. Headman loved it. We tried it a few more times on the trip to the village. Not only did Headman like the taste, he liked the delivery system. He soon recognized the recreational potential. They could greatly improve the tribal pattern of hunting all day and sleeping all night by introducing periodic orgasms.
When we entered the village, we were a sensation. They could go for years without seeing a new person, and when they did, it was often only the heads of the strangers. They had never seem white men and had never seen red hair.
Headman had a long conversation with the elders. Albert had figured out the language with respect to food, but this conversation was well beyond his skills. The conversation was long and animated. While we got along with the hunters, the elders were in charge. Since they did not decapitate us afterwards, I assumed we were safe for the immediate future. There was a feast, apparent in honor of the two heads. We were not the main course. In the biggest hut, skulls decorated the entry. Some were decorated with rocks and pebbles.
The next night Headman brought three elders to meet us. I had the impression that Headman had told them about his discoveries and the elders wanted a demonstration. Luckily, Gus did not have a shy bone in his body. The oldest man was the Chief. Gus took care of Chief with vigor and enthusiasm. The Chief was enthusiastic too.
The chief had white hair and a bushy beard, somewhat similar to Gus. His body hair graded from white near his shoulders to black below. The Chief felt a kinship with the stranger.
After Gus' display, it was my turn. The next elder came over to me. He was perhaps forty and had dark hair with gray streaks in his beard. I dropped to my knees and leaned forward. It was dark in the hut and I couldn't see his cock well. I found the tip of his organ and licked it. A few seconds later, it was clear that he was better hung than Headman or the Chief.
I do not think of myself as a size queen, but the elder's cock was inspirational. I was excited, as was the he. Verbal communication was impossible, but I think that direct mouth-cock connections exists and the elder and I were in complete communion. He almost immediately began to ooze sex juices.
He soon realized that I was into it and he helped when I hit a good place. He would hold my head near the good spot to let me know much he liked it. He didn't last long. I knew he was on the edge, the flow of sex juices increased. He had an unusually wide slit and I worked my tongue into it just before he popped. I intercepted the first, forceful spurts.
He had a spectacular orgasm and flooded my mouth with his steamy man seed. I continued to suck after the main attraction and I continued to generate additional ejaculations. He was very happy. Tribal sex tended to be result directed. It was viewed as planting seeds to grow into children. It was closer to being a religious rite, than sex in the modern sense. Pleasure was incidental to the sex act. The Elder felt intense pleasure as I sucked him dry.
Gus and Albert serviced the other men. This interlude confirmed Headman's story. More importantly, we were safe for a while. I could not tell if they regarded us as an inventors or witchdoctors.
There was an unexpected event after I served the elder we called Gray-Streak. He seemed to have recharged after his orgasm and he came to me and fondled my genitals. When I became erect, he bent over and kissed my cock. He soon tried to swallow my organ and enjoyed my cock,
He had to work for my load, but he enjoyed the work. When I finally shot off, Gray Streek, like Headman, Gray Streak enjoyed my semen. I had the feeling it was not just the sexual aspect of my orgasm, but it was the taste. He took every drop. I fell asleep and had a good night's rest. It was the first since the tsunami.
The next several days were quiet. I assumed stories were swirling around the camp. While we didn't know what they wanted to do with us, anything short of a cannibal feast or involving our heads on a stick was acceptable to us.
One afternoon they took us to another spring-fed pond and I did a swimming exhibition. Headman joined me and we dazzled the crowd. At the University, Albert had specialized in aboriginal languages, and while this tribe' language was unique it shared common elements of other aboriginal languages. He made rapid strides understanding it.
The tribe thought there were water spirits who ate those who ventured into the deep water. As a strange looking creature, I was obviously immune to the spirit's evil powers. When Headman entered the water and swam, it was clear that my magic protected those I favored. Gray Streak was bold and I taught him to swim. He was quite athletic and took to it quickly. I thought of this as an educational demonstration. The tribesmen saw it as magic in action.
That night Gray Streak came to my hut and we played for a long while. This was not a trial effort or an official duty. This was plain, old-fashioned sex. I drained his cock a few times and he did the same for me. He was not only after the sperm; he liked the process of getting it out of my balls and into his mouth. At some point I began to think of Grey Streak as a friend. I had a strong suspicion he thought the same way about me.
As Albert's linguistic skills grew, he figured out the tribe's interest in man sex and sperm. In sex with women, they thought that when they gave the women their sperm, they received nothing back. Since the children stayed in the women's village, they had no relationship with the products of intercourse. When they discovered man sex, they thought of it as a fair trade. The sperm they sucked from other men's cocks made them stronger. They were dining on their friend's manly juices.
They thought of it as a fair exchange. The sucker received sperm and the suckee felt pleasure. It was especially good when an older, strong man fed a younger man his seed. That was an honor. At first, I thought that would lead to a one-way relationships, but I underestimated the appeal of sex. The older men would take other men's sperm as a sign of friendship. They seemed to have no problem sharing with the young men, and took the younger men's seed to encourage them. When a young man returned from a hunt was a catch, there was no shortage of elders who were willing to exchange seed.
There was an element of polite fiction about these arrangements. Sex with women was fraught with danger and complicated restrictions. Sex with men was not a problem, as long as seed was not wasted. Life was more placid and calm once men found regular outlets for their sexual tension.
An earthquake disrupted the quiet atmosphere of the village. There was little damage, since the wood and thatch huts were lightweight and flexible. There was a substantial landslide nearby. The event greatly disturbed the peace of the village. Albert told me the tribe was having a big event at the next full moon to placate the earth spirits. Albert assumed some sacrifices were required. I was uneasy about this.