R. C. SmithShort Stories and Vignettes

Do not read my works if you are offended by descriptions of sexuality and violence.
(Do not read them just for those descriptions, either.)

On the River

We had left the main river hours ago, soon after our early morning departure from the small village that was the last tentative outpost of so-called civilization. Since then, and it must have been noon by now, though the position of the sun could not be seen through the roof of the dense foliage above us, our boat drove through ever smaller and more meandering side arms and tributaries, following a course that only the two silent native tribesmen could fathom.

I did not know the descendents of which formerly proud and now forgotten people they were — to us they were Indios, and what they called themselves they did not care to tell us. They sat together at the stern, dark-skinned and black-haired, small but strong, entirely naked except for the strings around their waists from which their knives hung. One of them steered the boat by the handle of its outboard engine, the other one, sitting with half-closed eyes, hardly moved at all. From time to time, without changing places, they switched their roles.

I did not look at my watch — time meant little to me now, and I knew that we would reach the temple before the evening.

The damp heat, and the soft purring of the engine, were making us drowsy. For a long time, no one spoke a word. It was Liz who first broke the silence.

“You will die,” she said to me, and smiled.

“I know,” I said.

She thought that I had not understood her. “You will die now, on this trip,” she said.

“Yes, I know,” I said.

“Since when do you know?” she asked, trying to keep her surprise from showing in her voice.

“Since before I agreed to join the expedition,” I said.

“But how did you know?”

I looked at Paul who sat next to us, pretending not to be interested in our talk. Or maybe he really wasn’t.

“Paul has never had any secrets from me.” No, I could not say that. He had not told her that he had told me. He had not been open to her, and I could not brag that he had always been open with me, even after we had broken up.

“I read it in his eyes, when he asked me to join,” I said.

“And you joined?” Liz said, surprised.

“He wanted me to,” I said. His engagement present for her. The proof that he loved her more than me. In her eyes, at least, it would be the proof. It was what she wanted, what would make her happy, at least for a while.

“Oh my god, how I have always hated you,” she said.

“I know,” I said, once more.

“And I will not only watch you die at the temple,” she said, “I will torture you myself.”

“Not at the ceremony,” I said. “The sacrifice belongs to the Goddess and her priests.”

“Yes, your meat and your life.” She licked her lips, her eyes were shining. “But there is still a lot I can do to you, and I will.” Her face was radiant. She was beautiful when she was aroused, I could see what Paul saw in her. I could see the fascination with which he watched her now.

I took off my tee-shirt, my pants and my panties.

“Throw them into the water,” Liz said, “they are too small for me.”

I did. Turning around, I looked at the sixth person in our boat. Bob had always had a crush upon me, he had desired me since we had met at the University, he had kept on telling me how he loved me while I had been together with Paul, he had gotten his hopes up when Paul and I separated — poor Bob, he never got from me what he wanted. Lucky Bob, he would get it now. No, he had wanted my love, he wouldn’t get that, but at least he’d get my body. I could see the excitement in his face.

“You have to wait a bit,” Liz said to him, smiling. She took a large pocket knife out of her backpack, opened a serrated blade, and cautiously let its teeth touch her mouth. A few drops of blood appeared, bright red on her dark red lips, and lingered there until she licked them up with her tongue. “She’s mine,” she said, slipping out of her cloths, “and I want to play with her a little now.”

It was far more than a little. My meat and my life belonged to the Goddess. My clit did not. Time stood still and stretched forever and was filled with agony.

When Liz was exhausted from her orgasms, covered in my blood, lying in Paul’s arms, the two Indios raped me, one after the other.

And then Bob was not lucky at all.

When he opened his pants, I heard one of the Indios say “No!”

“What’s the matter?” Bob asked.

“Sacrifice must be virgin,” the Indio said.

“Virgin?” Bob said, laughing. “She? Even without you two just ...”

“Virgin for the Goddess!” the Indio said.

Bob shrugged, stroked his erect penis, and made a step in the direction of where I was lying, on my back, still bleeding, still seeing everything blurred in a haze of pain.

And then there were a swift movement, and a scream, and a gush of blood, and a splash, and Bob was gone. Only his penis was still here. The Indio laid it on my chest. “Gift to Goddess,” he said.

Paul laughed. “I’ve never liked him,” he said to Liz.

“Of course not,” she said, “but did you know this would happen?”

“I hoped it would,” he said. “It will be a lot easier now at our department.”

The Indio looked at me, and at the shrunken penis between my breasts. “Gift to Goddess,” he repeated. And then, as he saw I did not understand, he said “Eat!”

I threw up.

“Oh my god, you are disgusting,” Liz said.

“I’ve always wanted to see the temple, you know,” I said, incoherently.

“I know,” Paul said, “that’s why we are taking you with us.” He took a camping stove out of the backpack, and then a small pot, and, bending over the side of the boat, filled it with water from the river. He picked up Bob’s penis from my chest and put it into the pot.

“We’ll cook it, it will be easier for you,” he said.

I looked at the Indios, they didn’t seem to mind.

“I am sorry to cause you the trouble,” I said.

“You’ll pay for it at the temple,” Liz said. She slowly fingered herself while she looked at me. “And I’m not done with you yet, either.”

I had never before seen her nude. How beautiful she was. Her breasts were much larger than mine, but firm nonetheless. Her nipples were erect. Paul bent over and kissed them. I knew so well how good his lips, his tongue and teeth, felt.

“I had not thought you were,” I said.


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