© 1999 by Wotan
NEHAN - © 1999 by Wotan
David Freehill was hopelessly lost. His clothes were in tatters, and he had just eaten the last of his rations.
Damn it all to Hell. Just what was it with his luck anyway? Three weeks ago he had been all full of hope, of good intentions, just like every other time in his sorry life... And then things turned to shit in his hands. A life spent at sea had given him the rough hands, and broad shoulders of the sailor, The pride in his appearance, and above all the proper respect for authority. The standing ramrod straight, the properly snapped salute, and the right click of his heels. All that gone now. The white uniform hanging in tatters around him, and soiled with the oppresive heat, and humidity of this place. Yet all he could do was keep walking, keep moving, and hope for some people... Dammit, there were six billion people on this ball of shit we call a planet, and this was supposed to be one of the most heavily populated countries on Earth... Why then could he find no one? And for three straight weeks!
The trip to the seas of Asia had excited him at first, though he would never show it...
"Fear is your enemy, Sailor!"
Over, and over he would repeat this mantra to himself, and it rang a little more hollow each time.
He still didn't know what 86ed the sub... Nuclear subs are not supposed to sink. These things just don't happen in the finest Navy in the World... Nevertheless, sink it did.
With what was perhaps the only real luck that he had ever had in his life, the sub had been surface running at the time, and he had been up top. Whatever the sub had hit, or had hit the sub knocked him, and several of the other sailors over the railing. He found himself treading water as the sub's rear slowly lifted itself up to about a thirty degree angle, and slipped beneath the water, screws still spinning wildly. The whole thing took less than ten minutes, but at the time it could easily have been a million years.
Five of them bobbed above the gentle waves, nothing to grab onto, nothing at all.
And they swam, hoping to find a shore that was close. And they swam... One by one David watched them finally give up, and sink beneath the water. And he swam. For how long, he would never know.
After some time he started to hallucinate, and suddenly he was no longer in water, but swimming against a giant Persian rug of sea blues, and soft greens, colours swirling through his head. The thought of sharks, and other nasty possibilities never crossing his mind... "Fear is your enemy, Sailor!"
And then after a million years, three million years, an eon, he felt sand beneath his hand, and he flopped onto a beach, chest heaving, and staring a dead fish in the eye...
Dave did his best to roll away from the now hateful sea, out of the reach of its lapping waves, dry sand sticking to his abused, waterlogged skin.
David lay on the beach for quite some time. When he finally awoke, he found he was stiff, and sore in every muscle he had, and he was sunburned to the colour of a boiled lobster. Unsteadily, he rose to his feet, and looked around himself. For as far as he could see to his left, or right, there was nothing but beach. Behind him the endless sea, and the graves of all his comrades, ahead of him, jungle. When David had last heard, the sub had been running in Malaysian waters, and he assumed that he was now somewhere on Malaysian soil, but precisely where, he had no idea. David decided for the moment to just get off the beach, and get some shade. Of course, this meant entering the jungle, and dealing with a new set of possibilities including poisonous snakes, land leeches, and malaria bearing mosquitoes, and that old standby, maybe predatory wildlife. That was if it hadn't already been poached to extinction in this area... If he was lucky, and this was indeed Malaysia, well, he wouldn't have too far to go to find a village, or some other sign of human habitation... After all, he was dealing with a heavily populated country with less, and less natural jungle left all the time.
David walked to the edge of the jungle, and suddenly he felt faint again. Sinking down with his back to the bole of a palm tree, he passed out again.
Sixteen hours later, he awoke, stood up, and looked towards the water again. As he had slept, some small pieces of debris had washed up on shore, presumably from the submarine. Not too much of value was to be found, except for some ration packs, buoyed up by the air inside the plastic sacs, which also had kept them pretty dry. These he wrapped up in his shirt, and tied the shirt around his waist using the sleeves.
For the first time, David looked himself over, and realised that everything considered, he didn't come out of this all too badly. Whether it had been fate, or just plain bullshit luck that he should be the only survivor, and that the rest of the crew, some of which had been his friends went to Davy Jones' Locker was beyond things that he really wished to sit down, and ponder right now. Such philosophical thoughts could come later when he was back in Civilisation, and laying in a warm, DRY bed. Right now he had bigger things to worry about. Like water for instance... Plenty of it, but as Coleridge had written, "Not a drop to drink". And truth be told, he didn't quite want to trust any fresh water that he may find either. Generally fresh water from places such as these could make you have the trots at best. However, he had no means of boiling water, much less carrying it, should he find some. Nevertheless, such niceties aside, he needed to find some. He would worry about what to do with it once he found some, because quite frankly he found that he was totally parched. So he began walking. And walking. And walking... Soon e thought he just might die after all, this time in the oppressive jungle heat. Finally, David found a small, pond of stagnant, smelly water. At this point, he found that he didn't care, he drank deeply, gagging back the awful taste, trying to kill it with a few mouthfuls of hardtack.
Soon, he slept again, grabbing whatever leaves, and vegetation he could to use as a blanket, trying to ignore all the stinging, and biting insects, picking off land leeches with disgust.
Every day David walked a little further, trying to keep his direction with the sun, when he could see it, and just guessing otherwise. With no knife, let alone a machete, David followed a zigzag route, taking whatever trails that larger animals had pushed through the jungle, or natural gaps in the vegetation. On the second day, he began to take only tiny nibbles of his rations at one time, looking for whatever he knew, or thought may be edible. He thought of making a spear, but had nothing to sharpen a stick with, no string to make a snare, nothing except his own body, and dimming hope, and wits.
And so it went for three weeks, David becoming leaner, his clothing starting to hang off of his body, and his eyes starting to look hollow.
* * *
And now here he was, the last bite of his rations sliding down his throat. And David began to chuckle to himself. Eventually he sat down on the forest floor, looked up at the sky, and said "You win".
David laid on his side, and just waited to die. No sense messing around, and putting off the inevitable.
He found himself watching a metallic green beetle trundle its way up a blade of grass with tired fascination, and at some point he drifted off again.
* * *
It was the smell, and the sound that woke him up. A heavy, metallic smell, like a cross between iron, and copper, and the buzzing of flies... David awoke with a start to see the severed, mangled leg of some sort of deer laid in front of him.
How many times had he heard the expression "His bowels turned to water," and thought nothing of it? David found out for himself right then and there as he looked at this hunk of flesh, and he felt fear like he had never known before. He felt a sensation of a sudden dropping in his stomach, and the feeling that his bowels did indeed turn to water. Indeed, had there been anything in them to evacuate, he likely would have been dropping a load of mars bars into what was left of his pants. As it was he thought that he may have a heart attack right there anyway, and put an end to these weeks of Hell. He tried as hard as he could not to think of where the meat may have come from, yet he seemed powerless to get up, and move away from it.
It was after perhaps ten minutes of just laying there, looking at the meat, and shuddering in fear that his stomach suddenly made another sort of funny movement. And then suddenly, the painful bolt of a cramp as David realised that this meat was also food. And he was hungry enough to literally eat anything right now.
David hauled himself a little closer to the deer's leg on his elbows, until he was right over it, and its gamey, venison smell that was just starting to go over in the oppressive heat, and humidity assailed his nostrils. He didn't care. He shooed away as many of the flies as he could, and brushed off as many of their waxy, yellow egg clusters that would be maggots in a few very short hours, as he could find.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, David probably knew who, and what had torn this leg from the deer it originally belonged to... And tear w as the right word. No human could, or would do that. Humans tended to use knives, thus producing clean cuts. This was far from clean. What he wouldn't do for a knife right now!
Well, if he wanted to live, he guessed that he had best get to it. Bon appetit.
When David's face was becoming stiff from the blood, and his stomach no longer screaming so urgently, he reflected that this was one of the things that he would never have considered eating, back in those days where he was well fed. Funny how extreme hunger would change one's perceptions. And truth be told, apart from the gamey taste of the venison that he barely noticed in his hunger, it hadn't been all that bad. Certainly no worse than hardtack when you got right down to it. Finally, he felt a sensation that he thought he would never know again... His stomach was full, and suddenly he again felt sleepy. Ignoring the tacky blood caked to his face, he lay down, and once again drifted off.
David awoke to something that felt like wet, coarse sandpaper scraping against his face. David jerked back with a start, to find himself eyeing a moist, pink nose, and white fur around it. Whiskers on either side as thick as weed trimmer line, these tickling against his face, and hot breath blowing on his forehead.
Most people on hearing this knowledge would know immediately, instinctively what they were dealing with. In the depths of shock, and terror, this is not so.
All David was dimly aware of was his bladder releasing, and filling what was left of his pants with what little urine his dehydrated body had to give.
The licking finally stopped, leaving his skin sore, and raw. A large, solid head then cheekrubbed him, the animal making a low moaning sound deep in his throat. At some point, David regained enough of his composure, and what was left of his Navy steel to realise that if he were in danger here, it likely had already passed its greatest point, and therefore, calm would be the proper thing to maintain here... "Fear is your enemy, Sailor".
He also realised now what kind of animal he was dealing with, and he tried to move his eyes along the the furry side of the beast, seeing every buff, orange hair, every black hair within its stripes, and the blending to white hairs under the belly. David had no idea, nor did he even want to think of why this tiger was suddenly taking an interest in him, but every instinct told him that someone unarmed, and weak as he was would do well just to sit still as possible, and not make any sudden moves.
Meanwhile, he noticed for the first time the smell of this great beast, his senses attuned as sharply as overwound guitar strings. The tiger had a pleasantly musky undertone, with an overtone that for some reason reminded him of baking biscuits. The tiger cheekrubbed his face a couple more times, its thick whiskers trailing along his cheek, and the great cat turned around, and lifted its tail. David quickly learned the gender of the tiger as he found himself at eye level with a large pair of dangling testicles underneath the upraised tail. The tiger's testes were quite large, each the size of a key lime, and covered with velvety white fur. Underneath was the black tip of the tiger's sheath, and David could see this, and the testicles raise up, and the small, pointed tip of the tiger's penis appear like a pink dot at the centre of the sheath opening.
David only had a few seconds to look, and suddenly the tiger sprayed him, a jet of warm, cloudy, scented urine hit him in the face. A smell like stale popcorn assailed his nostrils, and David exercised all of his self control to not gag, or sputter. Deep down, he also had a random thought from nowhere that he had now been marked as property...
The tiger turned around, and looked at him in seeming pleasure, David seeing his entire, huge face for the first time... In the tiger's greenish-yellow eyes there seemed an intelligent humour, and knowledge, and the tiger now made a chuffing noise at him, seemingly in pleasure. Somewhere in all of this, David realised that he no longer felt any sort of fear, just curiosity as to what might happen next. Warily, he found his right hand reaching out, and touching the tiger's velvety side, and when the tiger leaned into the touch, David turned the touch into tentative strokes of the tiger's side. The tiger seemed to like this a great deal, as he chuffed in pleasure again, and then moaned softly once again. The tiger moved his body forward, and David looked at the tiger's face as he moved forward. As he wasn't looking, suddenly he felt his hand slip over some dangling, pendulous somethings, which he instinctively cupped, even before fully understanding that he literally had a wild tiger by the balls. As his hands cupped the tiger's testes, the tiger gave another small chuff, and moan of pleasure. David let the tiger's genitals go after a moment, and this time there was a slightly louder moan, seemingly in displeasure.
David went back to stroking the tiger's sidefur, and again he moaned, and chuffed. The tiger turned around, gently nudging his hand with his cold, wet, pink nose, again cheekrubbing him, and moving his body along against David.
David found the tiger's genitals again brushing against his hand, followed by another pleasure chuff, and the realisation dawned upon him at that point that this was what the tiger wanted from him. And since he was totally helpless here, it probably would be best for him to just do as he was directed. David once more cupped the tiger's testes in his hand, feeling their warm, fuzzy weight within his palm, and moved one of his fingers down to the tip of the tiger's sheath right underneath. He felt the sheath opening become moist almost at once, and the tiger's penis hidden within begin to stiffen, and twitch. The tiger groaned at his touch, definitely in pleasure this time, and David felt the pointed, moist tip of the tiger's penis emerge from the sheath, and poke against his palm.
David had never in his life considered doing such a thing, even in his wildest, horniest dreams... He had always thought that he was basically a normal guy who loved his women like anyone else. But damnit if this wasn't turning him on... For what was likely the first time since this whole mess began, he felt his own penis starting to deliciously stiffen as he handled the tiger's genitals. David cupped the sheath in his palm, and gently pushed it back, exposing the tiger's now erect penis. The tiger responded with a louder groan this time, and his penis seeming to lurch in David's hand. David looked at the tiger's member out of curiosity as he did this, and he saw, and felt the small, backward-pointing barbs on the head of his penis. How many times had David heard, or read of these things, but had never seen one before to know for himself. And truth be told, it fascinated him. The tiger's penis was quite small by human standards, about as big around as his thumb, and not all that much longer, yet it had that pleasant stale popcorn smell to it, and small though it may be, it seemed to be perfectly constructed to David, and beautiful when compared to the human model, which had a head somewhat resembling a mushroom. And it lay within its protective sheath most of the time, only revealing its secrets when the tiger chose it to. David's own exposed at all times, and open to every insult, every injury... he didn't even have his foreskin any more, having been robbed of it while too young to defend himself. The tiger's penis glistened within his palm, and the sight of it was actually turning him on now. As David gently stroked the tiger's penis, and looked at it again, it seemed to pulse in his hand, accompanied by another moan from the tiger, and a small spurt of clear, watery pre-ejaculate filled his palm. The tiger thrusted into his hand, and David decided to satisfy this great beast who had for some reason chosen to feed, and befriend him, and then mark him as his own.
He only had a moment to do this. Suddenly, the tiger stepped away from him, bringing David another jolt of fear. The tiger stood there looking at him, tongue slightly protruding, and panting a little. The humourous glint never left the great cat's eyes, and the next thing David knew, the tiger casually reached out with one of his huge front paws, and gently placed it on David's back.
"What the Hell?"
The tiger extended one of his claws out of his paw, and gently, casually hooked it into David's tattered shirt, and pulled. His shirt gave way with a quiet, purring tear, and the tiger ripped it from his body. Seemingly satisfied with himself, the tiger gave a chuff of pleasure once again, and then nosed, and licked David's back, and then upwards towards his neck. David felt stirrings of fear once again as on some primal level, he probably understood what this great cat had in mind. David thought to himself "If you feel the need to take such liberties with a poor, starving, dehydrated human barely able to move, let alone fight back, perhaps I should refer to you by a name?
As if in answer, a low, kind voice seemed to speak within his head, and it simply said "Nehan".
David spoke to the great cat "I don't know where that came from, but I suppose Nehan you are."
Nehan nosed at the waist of David's pants, giving another soft moan, and he touched David's back lightly with his front paw. David understood at once this time, and even though he knew that he had no real choice in the matter, he felt his penis becoming hard iron. As wrong as he felt this to be, that all his ingrained knowledge, and opinion told him about the wrongness of this, perhaps it was fate.
David removed his pants, and his underwear, and stood sky-clad to the jungle, and the inhabitants thereof, and fully exposed to Nehan, his penis an exclamation mark standing up from his dark brown patch of pubic hair.
Nehan chuffed in pleasure once again, and nosed at David's now exposed rear end, his cold, wet nose sliding first up, and then between his buttocks. Nehan's large, rough tongue explored the crack of David's buttocks, bringing him a momentary wince, as the barbs on Nehan's tongue hurt him a little back there. Nehan made another soft moan, and then moved around to the David's front, and nosed first his testicles, and then his penis. Again, David felt fear as he realised that Nehan could remove everything he had right then, and there, but Nehan would do no such thing. Nehan gently, carefully took David's penis into his mouth, and lapped on it like a cub on his mother's nipple. To David's surprise, Nehan was very careful with his tongue papillae, and David only felt a mild tickle against the underside of his penis that he felt would drive him mad. He felt himself building towards an orgasm, but before he could make it, Nehan removed his mouth from David's penis, and this time, it was his turn to moan.
Nehan suddenly turned around again, and lifted his tail. Nehan's own tiger penis was fully erect, and pointed downwards like a dark, pink finger. Nehan manoeuvred himself closer, and suddenly the tip of Nehan's penis rubbed against David's own member, Nehan's barbs causing a delicious ticklish scraping against David's penis. Nehan continued this for a moment, and sprayed David's penis with some more of his watery pre-ejaculate. This was it for David, and he howled as an orgasm so strong that it was almost painful ripped through him. Nehan chuffed in concert with him as he shot his thick, dehydrated semen all over Nehan's barbed, pointed, pink penis, his sheath, and his dangling testes. Nehan whirled around again, and suddenly, gently pushed David down onto his stomach with his front paw. David fell weakly to his stomach, too weak, and worn out to even think of protesting. Nehan moved over David, straddling him, and licking, and nuzzling at the back of his neck.
In spite of himself, David groaned a little, finding himself turned on again, and he raised his rear end slightly as a tigress would. Because that was what he was now, Nehan's tigress.
Nehan hunched his hips, and began to poke his penis forward. After a moment, David felt the pointed tip touch his lower back, and Nehan began to gently thrust, jerking it up, and down on David's naked back. Nehan's penis found the crack of David's buttocks, and as soon as it entered his crack, Nehan sensed that he was close to the mark, and poked a little more urgently with his penis, making another quiet moan. David felt Nehan's penis pulse against his back end again, and another shot of pre-ejaculate ran down the crack between his buttocks, and pooled in his anus, preparing to ease Nehan's way as he bred David like his tigress.
After another moment, the tip of Nehan's penis snagged against David's anus, and David found himself relaxing his sphincter. Above him, Nehan jerked, and gasped a little as he found his mark, and he inserted the tip of his pointed penis into David's relaxed anus.
Nehan gave four, or five small thrusts, aligning himself, as his own orgasm approached, David's semen, and his pre-ejaculate serving to lubricate, and ease his way in.
Suddenly, Nehan jabbed his penis forward, ramming it in to David all the way to the hilt, and nearly driving him flat in the process. Nehan's furry testes slapped against David's buttocks, and David could feel Nehan's sheath bunch up against his anus as Nehan buried as much of his penis as he could within David.
Above him, David could feel Nehan's hip muscles bunched, and straining against his sides, and Nehan's penis dancing, and pulsing within him as Nehan shot out several jets of milky, watery tiger semen, David feeling the warm wetness splashing within him, as Nehan filled him with his tiger seed. Above him, Nehan let out a mighty roar, as his orgasm built to a crescendo, and then he gently gripped at David's neck for a moment, and just as Nehan's orgasm reached it's peak, with a coughing roar, he leapt away from David, his penis ripping from his rectum. David felt everything the barbs were for at this point, but the shock of them being raked against his rectal wall was nowhere near as bad as he may have thought that it would be. Nevertheless, he gave a yelp in spite of himself.
He felt the last jets of Nehan's ejaculation patter against his buttocks as Nehan leapt away, and David just lay there for a moment, and looked at Nehan, as Nehan lay a short distance away, his back leg cocked behind his head, licking himself clean as his penis retreated back into his sheath.
After a few more moments. Nehan got up again, walked over to David, and gave him another chuff, and moan. Nehan rubbed against him, and David heard the low, friendly voice within his head again. This time it simply said "Follow".
David obeyed without question, and he followed where Nehan lead him. Followed him as far as he could in his weakened, dehydrated condition.
It wasn't very long before he could hear a sound that he had been hoping for for some days... That of quickly running water. In spite of himself, David found himself walking a little faster, and soon Nehan had led him to a small, cool stream. David surveyed the situation, and saw the sheer beauty of the spot. A small waterfall fell into a cool, wide pond here, and David followed as Nehan entered the water, David drinking, and bathing with joyous laughter. Nehan gently, playfully pushed him under a few times, but he never went too far. Later, as David lay on some cool stones on the bank, still sky clad, all accoutrements of human society left far behind him, he felt at peace. His head lay against Nehan's warm side, and he again slept. After a while, Nehan left him to again hunt, and when David woke, there was meat to share, this time, he ate right beside Nehan, not caring, and allowing Nehan to help him with the parts he couldn't chew on his own.
Afterwards, as they lay together, satiated, and content, David found himself idly stroking Nehan's sheath, which responded with its pulsing almost at once. Nehan needed no further encouragement.
David perhaps realised at some point that he was in love. Not in any sense of the word that he could ever know from his days in human society, but love nonetheless, and to him it was as real, as natural as any he had ever felt that he had known.
* * *
As the days, then weeks, then months passed, David felt human speech slowly slip away from him, until even his thoughts were merely images, and ideas, human words no longer applying, Yet, he knew Nehan's thoughts better every day, indeed they had become one. David's skin became brown, his hair long, and he became tribal man once again, and full mate to Nehan. Nehan would still disappear from time to time to impregnate one of the two tigresses that shared his territory, but such was his duty, and when he returned with their oestrous smell on him, David would drink deeply of it, and he, and Nehan would make love as never before, afterwards licking each other clean as was their tiger way. And soon, even David's human name disappeared, merely replaced by something that would have resembled 'Hunter' in his lost human speech. And indeed he was a hunter... He had found, and sharpened rocks from around the waterfall pool, and he had made spears, which he threw with deadly aim, having snuck up on his quarry with the stealth, and silence of Nehan himself.
* * *
Somewhere outside of one of the last remaining large patches of jungle in Malaysia, the natives in their superstition still tell of the wild man who lives with the male tiger. So many claim to have seen, or heard him, but no one ever has had proof, yet they tell tales of how he is always as naked as a newborn baby, and his dark hair hanging down to his waist. And he never speaks, but only makes sounds of the tiger itself.
But as such, the legends have persisted for at least ten years now, and the elders believe them to be true without question, because the World is still full of wonders.