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Transgender / Transformation stories in English
Chapter 1 - Home life	
Chapter 2 - The Lost City Legend	
Chapter 3 - Nasroi's Tall Tales	
Chapter 4 - Kill the bastard!	
Chapter 5 - The Waterfall	
Chapter 6 - Acceptance of the new identity	
Chapter 7 - Home at last	
Chapter 8 - The barn	
Chapter 9 - The letter	


Chapter 1 - Home life

From the upper window of his mansion, Sir Jerome Parker watched 
the unusually large party in the mansion's outdoor courtyard 
below his window. The mid-day party was to celebrate his only 
daughter's 18th's birthday. 

Or the birthday celebration was what the very beautiful and young 
Jane Parker was supposed to believe was the only reason for the 
party. While all of her exclusive Finishing School girlfriends and her 
relatives, as well as the communities social elite, were attending her 
yearly birthday party as usual, he had also found some way to 
invite the entire senior class of Cambridge University - the 
completely all-male class of 1889. All two hundred and twelve of 
England's most promising young men of tomorrow's generation 
were down in the courtyard. Some of them were destined as their 
natural birthright, to go on to become future leading English 
statesmen, following in their father's footsteps as they became the 
next generation of English politicians. Other young men, whose 
families weren't as well politically connected, would enter the 
scientific fields, becoming either doctors or architects or scientists 
or explorers. Most of them would return to live at their family 
estates, dedicating their lives to managing the large family estates 
that had typically been in their family for generations. 

Either way that their individual futures went, below in the brightly 
festooned courtyard were some of the most eligible single men in 
England - nay, below were THE MOST ELIGIBLE young Englishmen 
by Sir Jerome's very high social standards. He was convinced that 
Jane should be able to meet and find someone at this party that 
would satisfy even her very high personal requirements. If 
everything went the way that he planned it, the next time that 
Parker Manor hosted a large party, it would be to celebrate Jane's 
engagement.

******

"Jane, may I have the honor of introducing you to Harold Boswell 
the fifth, the eldest scion of the very honorable Lord Boswell, from 
Goswell County."

The very beautiful and petite dark-haired young woman turned to 
face the properly dressed handsome young man that her older male 
cousin was introducing to her. Holding her fan demurely at her side 
as she had been taught in her Finishing School etiquette classes, 
she curtsied while the tall, handsome young man bowed as 
expected during formal introductions between proper young 
English gentlemen and ladies. Finishing her curtsy, she held her 
dainty wrist out, allowing the young man to step forward, and bow 
again as he lightly kissed the back of her china-white hand.

After the formal introductions were completed, Jane smiled as she 
asked "Is your father_.?"

"Yes. If the 1892 English elections go the way that my Father 
predicts, he will become the next Prime Minister of England. He'll 
move into Number 10 Downey Street while I stay at the estate, 
managing the beautiful estate that I'll eventually inherit." The 
young man replied in a rather haughty tone as he boasted of his 
father's current dreams.

"Sounds very exciting. I wish your Father success." Replied the 
young woman as she adjusted her large, billowing skirt slightly and 
adjusted her parasol to keep the sun's damaging rays from 
touching her china-white complexion. She turned to walk slowly 
through the large courtyard garden, knowing that the young, 
dapper-dressed young man would accompany her as she strolled 
through the small groups of young people that were standing 
around the large garden talking. She knew her father had an 
ulterior motive - such as finding her a future husband - to inviting 
the twenty-some young women from her Finishing School and the 
two-hundred-plus young male aristocrats, in addition to her usual 
gaggle mixture of cousins and close friends. The additional new 
guests made the party somewhat more stuffy as they observed the 
expected formalities but it also made a ten to one male to female 
ratio.

She wasn't upset with her father's actions although this wasn't 
what she would've preferred for her birthday. She knew that her 
father was worried that she would become an old maid - after all 
she was eighteen and wasn't even engaged yet. 

Jane was too much of a modern woman for her father. Instead of 
sitting home and working on her quilts, Jane preferred to sneak 
down to the horse stables and find a spirited steed that she would 
gallop across the rolling fields at breakneck speed, riding a man's 
saddle instead of the more normal ladies sidesaddle. She would 
hike her skirt up on the pommel to get it out of the way and prod 
the horse to run at breakneck speed as she guided the horse across 
her father's large estate. Or she would go down to the nearby river 
that flowed near the mansion and swim - as if she was a 
commoner. She had made herself something that she called a 
bathing suit - using pictures from an American catalog - and she 
would spend hours wearing that scandalous and revealing 
swimming outfit while she swam in the nearby river. Or she would 
spend all day hiking across the fields and bogs, returning home in 
the late evening, very muddy and tired from her strenuous exercise. 
It had only been in the last two-three years that her father had 
been able to convince her that proper women didn't wear pants 
and that ladies - especially ladies of his family - didn't work with 
field hands in the garden estates. If she wanted to get her hands 
dirty, she could work in her flower garden.

Pulled from her reverie, Jane nodded to a giggling Sarah and Saddie 
who were surrounded by about ten young suitors. Both young 
women were obviously enjoying the attention of the young men. 
Saddie was her cousin and Sarah was her current best friend. 
She'd met Sarah in the Finishing School and her father had 
encouraged the friendship, as he attempted to push Jane and Mary 
Beth further apart. 

Mary Beth - like Jane - had been born and lived all her life on the 
Parker Manor Estate. Only Mary Beth was the daughter of the cook 
and one of the gardeners. She was one year older than Jane and 
was the person that Jane's father blamed for Jane's errant ways. 
Mary Beth had never been schooled in the proper manners 
expected of a woman - after all, she was only the daughter of a 
cook. Mary Beth was a tall, large-boned woman with a broad face, 
long blondish-red hair that she wore up in a proper bun, freckles, 
and had the heavy breasts, wide hips and long legs of her mother. 
Tipping the barn scales at one hundred and ninety pounds, the 
nineteen year-old six-foot-two-inch tall maid looked very 
intimidating in her starched black and white maid's uniform. Her 
wide shoulders and tall heavy body made her look like she could 
whip any man, while her actual demeanor was quite the reverse. 
She was a very tender and gentlewoman that wanted nothing more 
than to be the mother to a house full of kids.

But to have kids, there has to be a father. So when a twelve year 
old Mary Beth first worked out the components of what it took to 
get pregnant, she began flirting with men - not for sex, but because 
she wanted to get pregnant. Over the years, Mary Beth had shared 
with Jane all of the details of her various lovers - she'd had five 
different men since her first man at twelve. Jane's father had 
forbidden Jane to talk with Mary Beth since that time that a 
fourteen-year-old Jane slipped out of the house at night and went 
to the local tavern with Mary Beth. When Jane's father learned 
that his only daughter had been seen in the local tavern dancing 
with local farm hands, he'd become extremely angry. He'd fired 
Mary Beth's parents and only recanted their dismissal when Jane 
promised to stay away from Mary Beth and to attend the Finishing 
School that she'd repeatedly turned down before. While Jane 
attended Finishing School to become a proper young lady, Mary 
Beth was given intensive moral's training by the local priests and 
only allowed to return to the Mansion as a maid with the 
understanding that she had to live a very chaste lifestyle or be 
permanently prohibited from the Mansion. 

Jane's attention was pulled back to the present when Sarah 
winked conspiratorially at Jane before returning her attention to 
the young man who was expounding his personal views as to why 
America would one day ask Britain to take the former colony back. 
Although Sarah's hand was spoken for, she was permitted to 
partake in the festivities, which were conducted under the clear 
oversight of the many chaperons that Jane's father had so 
thoughtfully provided.

Sarah was the type of daughter that Jane's father wanted Jane to 
be more like - the proper young lady. Sarah liked to sew, 
experiment with the newest fashionable hairstyles, cook fancy 
dinners for her family, bake cookies for the church, and practice 
her piano and flute music. 

Unlike Jane, Sarah was engaged to a young man whom she would 
marry when he returned from his military assignment as an officer 
in Her Majesty's Service in India. Sarah had met the man on her 
fifteenth birthday and become engaged the same week, promising to 
marry him when he returned from fulfilling his military obligation 
in India. Jane kept asking Sarah how she could love a man that 
she'd only spent a total of ten hours in his company two years ago, 
which was shared with their ever-constant chaperon. Sarah 
explained by discussing the man's ancestors and his future place 
in London society once he returned from his current military 
officer's position. Jane asked about love, about knowing the person 
that Sarah had committed her life to, and Sarah responded by 
listing the man's pedigree again.

"__.. and after I finished Eton, my father wanted me to attend a law 
school. But as I told dear old dad, England has enough lawyers. I 
convinced him that he should allow me to practice medicine. So 
after I finish my medical training, I'll return to the family estate as 
Lord and Master. But enough about me, am I boring you?" the 
young man asked as they scrolled beneath the upstairs windows 
where Jane could see her father watching the festivities as he 
smoked his cigar.

"No, I find your story very interesting. Please continue." She 
suggested politely, as she tried to think of some polite way to get 
away from him. 

He smiled down at her. Everyone smiled down at her because of her 
very small body. Jane was a very petite five foot two inches tall and 
weighed only ninety-eight pounds. Her perfectly proportional body 
was slightly top heavy and her slender child-like waist looked so 
small that a lot of men imagined that they could encase her waist 
with their hands. Jane's small petite body was the same size as 
Mary Beth's body when Mary Beth was only nine years old. Even 
with her natural small waist size, Jane was forced into wearing a 
corset under her dress because slender waists were the fashion 
statement of the decade.

"I'm very interested in someday being the Dean of a Medical 
School. I've always wanted to teach, ever since I was twelve when 
I__." He rambled on as they walked.

******

Sarah was holding her teacup above her saucer, her little finger 
sticking up as they'd been taught in the Finishing School. Beside 
Jane on the living room couch, Saddie was finishing her review of 
the different young men that the three of them had met during the 
afternoon party.

"He was such a bore. Honestly, Sarah, I felt like choking you when 
you suggested that he join us for tea some afternoon. All he could 
do, was talk about his uncle and how the Queen had said or did 
this with his uncle. You'd think that his uncle was the only person 
that the Queen ever talked to."

Jane piped in, trying to hide the sarcasm with her sugary tone "But 
Saddie, the three of us girls know that your father approves him to 
be your suitor. If you don't honor your father's wishes, you may 
miss marrying the most eligible bachelor in the world."

"Jane!!! How dare you say such a thing? You've just about given 
your poor dear father a heart attack by refusing to choose anyone. 
After all, you're getting to be a rather - shall I say - aged person 
who still hasn't found her Mister Right." She giggled, amused at 
her own wit.

The door opened and all three hushed for a second. A maid pushing 
a cart filled with fresh tea and cookies entered the room. Sarah 
continued her rating of the different young men as the maid 
replaced the half-empty teapot and began serving the cookies as 
she refilled the three women's teacups. When the maid handed 
Jane's small plate of cookies to her, Jane glanced at the maid and 
slightly arched her eyebrows in a silent greeting as she said "Thank 
you, Mary Beth."

The maid's head nodded imperceptibly as she refilled Lady Jane's 
teacup and curtsied to her mistress. The other two women were 
laughing over Sarah's all-knowing description of one of the young 
men's fingers, about how thick and long his fingers were. As the 
maid left the room, Jane laughed also; not really sure why she was 
laughing but knowing that it was expected from her.

******

Her father was sitting in his private upstairs study, enjoying his 
customary after-dinner brandy and cigar. All of the guests had left 
and Jane had just thanked her father for the wonderful party. He 
had quizzed her about the young men "Had she meet anyone that 
she would like to meet in an appropriate social settings? What did 
she think of the young Boswell? Did Saddie behave herself?"

She had done her dutiful daughter routine, telling him as much as 
she dared about the many young men that she had met that day. 
Then she had begged to turn in early - it'd been a long and tiring 
day. She'd gone straight to her room and undressed, being very 
happy to get out of the large and uncomfortable billowing skirt and 
other lady's unmentionables. 

Then she slipped into a simple cotton dress that her father didn't 
like to see her wear - one that was comfortable instead of 
fashionable. One that he permitted her to keep and wear only 
within the privacy of her room. She spent a moment brushing her 
hair and staring at her delicate china-white facial features. She 
opened a drawer, removing the small bag of makeup - makeup, 
which her father prohibited her from wearing because he thought 
that unmarried women who painted their faces were common sluts. 
She spent a few moments adding a little color to her high 
cheekbones and a little red to her lips then extinguished the 
candles within her room, as if she'd turned in for the night.

Instead of going to bed, she tiptoed down the hallway to the 
Servant's staircase, which led her down to the empty kitchen. She 
slipped out the always-unlocked door and across the patio to the 
gate that led to the barn. She entered the large and dark barn, 
walking to the back of the barn, where the storage room was 
located. A glimmer of light escaping through a crack guided her to 
the storage room door, behind which she could hear someone 
talking in a low voice.

She opened the door, causing the voice to cease. Sitting on 
haybales, were Mary Beth, a twenty-four year-old French maid 
named Dominique, a gardener named Jack that was the same age 
as Jane, and a forty-year-old horse groomer named Harry - her real 
friends. All employees of her father.

Jack held up a glass, which Jane knew would be full of whiskey 
stolen from her father's liquor cabinet today. The servants enjoyed 
her father's parties because it gave them the opportunity to re-
direct excess food and some of the better liquids to their hidden 
stockpiles. Mary Beth hugged Jane as she whispered "Happy 
Birthday."

Jane laughed "Did you ever see so many pompous asses in one 
place? God help this country if they're the leaders of tomorrow. 
Harry, pour me a glass of that shit."

Harry handed her a filled whiskey tumbler, which she downed with 
one quick gulp. Staring at the empty glass, she loudly declared 
"The men got to drink this good shit while the ladies had to sip on 
tea. I almost picked up one man's unguarded glass but I knew that 
Father was watching from his window. He would die if he knew that 
my virgin lips had ever tasted this demon brew. If I were a boy, he 
would've introduced me to its delicious taste as part of my twelfth 
birthday - my coming-of-age birthday. Instead he had Aunt Jessica 
tell me her confused version of the birds and bees story which is 
supposed to somehow reveal the truth about sex. If only the old 
biddy had known that I already knew that story, she'd had a heart 
attack."

As Harry re-filled her tumbler, Jane sat down on a haybale and 
picked up Harry's pouch of tobacco. She expertly licked a cigarette 
paper, poured some tobacco onto the paper and rolled the paper 
into a cigarette. Harry struck a match and lit her cigarette. She 
leaned back against a hay bale, blew a cloud of smoke into the air 
and held up her refilled whisky tumbler as she declared "I think 
that you know that this is the birthday party that I preferred. 
Thanks for being my friends and understanding what I have to do 
to please the old man."

Harry called "Cheers." and each of them downed their tumbler of 
straight whiskey. Jane spread her legs in a very unlady-like 
position and enjoyed another deep lung-full of cigarette smoke 
before continuing "Did you see that one asshole that monopolized 
me all afternoon? I tried everything to get rid of him except to tell 
him to go get fucked. If he wasn't talking about how great his 
daddy was, he was talking about how much greater he was going to 
be someday. When we were in the midst of a group, I even stood 
close to him and released a small silent fart, then looked at him as 
if he'd done it; hoping that I could embarrass him so that he stayed 
away from me. But he apologized to me as if the smell was coming 
from him and kept talking his silly garbage. God, I hope that he's 
got a dick underneath those expensive trousers, because he surely 
doesn't have a brain in his head. How can father expect me to 
marry someone that self-centered and un-worldly?"

Jack laughed and started making an imaginary stroking motion as 
if he was masturbating "And I expect his lordship is lying on his 
silk sheets at this very moment, thinking of how much he 
impressed you. Glad that I'm not the one who'll have to clean his 
bed in the morning."

Mary Beth put her hands under her large breasts, lifting them and 
pressing them up to form a larger exposed cleavage as she 
exclaimed "The lordship in question, kept staring down my dress as 
I served him. He like's boobs so he's got some redeeming qualities. 
Some of those other `gentlemen' seemed to prefer each other's 
body to my body. There was one flaming faggot that kept waving his 
handkerchief as if he was the Queen of England."

Jane laughed loudly, the cigarette dangling from her red lips "I 
know which one of the pompous bastards that you're talking 
about. When I was introduced to one of his school friends, he 
smirked as if he knew that I wasn't any competition for his 
handsome friend's companionship. As soon as I finished my 
mandatory `how-the-fuck-are-you' introduction, I moved on while 
the little faggot rushed in to make sure that I hadn't contaminated 
his `special friend.' And the future Lord Boswell does like to look at 
women's breasts. He kept standing close to me and sneaking 
surreptitious glances down my bodice as if he'd never seen a 
perfect set of tits before."

Harry raised his glass in a toast "I second that. You've got a perfect 
set of tits, second only to my wife's tits."

Jane thrust her chest out and declared in mock anger "I've seen 
your wife's boobs. That's an insult to me and a fantasy for your 
wife."

Harry replied in a solemn tone "It's been four or five years since 
I've last seen your tits, so my memory might be failing. Why don't 
you show them to me so I can re-evaluate you?"

"Don't do it. He's only trying to goad you so that he can get a 
cheap thrill. Next, he'll next start telling you how he can trim a 
woman's pubic mound hair so that it's a perfect heart shape. The 
old bastard's only interested in getting to look at some real pussy. 
We know that his wife's cut him off again." Groaned Mary Beth as 
she lit her own cigarette.

Jane laughed as she held her glass up to respond to Harry's toast 
"Truce. We're too good friends to fight among ourselves. A toast to 
good friends that know when to fuck with each other and when to 
respect each other's boundaries."

After each of them emptied and re-filled their whiskey glasses, 
Jane's voice turned serious as she looked at each of her good 
companions "I'm sorry that I couldn't have the birthday party that 
I really preferred - here with you, my good friends. You don't know 
how much I appreciate your friendship. And I have some bad news, 
which I've been hiding from everyone because I didn't want anyone 
to try to talk me out of it. So I've save it for this moment. Tomorrow 
morning, I'm leaving."

Jack jumped to his feet "Leaving? But why?"

"I'm unable to continue being my father's daughter - or rather 
being the daughter that he wants me to be. If I stay here, I'll be 
married within the year to some pompous ass starched shirt that I 
don't love. A marriage arranged by my father who thinks that he's 
doing the best thing for me, ignoring my personal desires. My father 
thinks that I'm going to London to do some shopping for a week, 
but I've really booked passage on a boat to France, where I'll board 
a tramp steamer to Africa."

Mary Beth's lips curled in a snarl "Africa. There's nothing but 
naked savages there and snakes. I could enjoy the naked savages 
but snakes is a different matter."

"I know and that's why I going there. Reading my magazines, I've 
decided that France is much too civilized and America doesn't have 
any more wildernesses to explore. I want to go somewhere where 
women don't wear hoops under their skirts, where men don't 
dress formally for dinner, and where I can learn what it's like to be 
free. Some place where I can ride a horse without being looked at 
because I'm not riding sidesaddle. Some place where I can smoke a 
cigarette in public if I desire. Some place where I can swim butt-ass 
naked if I so desire. Some place where I can meet a real man 
instead of all those phony assholes who think that manhood is 
dependent upon birthrights. So I'm running away from my home to 
search for my dreams. I've made arrangements to join a safari 
where I'll travel into the darkest jungle to explore territory that only 
men have seen before. To get that deep into the jungle, I've 
accepted a job as secretary to the safari leader where I'll record our 
journey's accomplishments. I'm going to do some of the things that 
I want to do with my life before I'm forced to marry and bear some 
stuffed shirt's children."

Mary Beth gave Jane an all-knowing nod "Aye. I've watched you 
grow up with me over the years. I've been allowed to do some of the 
things that I wanted to do because of my low station in life, while 
I've watched you suffer when you tried to get the same limited 
experience. I've seen you cry because you couldn't row your boat 
instead of practice your piano. I've seen your father get angry over 
men who would make you a good husband just because they didn't 
have the proper ancestors. I know where you're coming from and I 
wish you luck. I wish that I was going with you, but as you know, 
Jack's waiting for his uncle to die. When his uncle dies, Jack will 
inherit his house and ten acres of farmland. If we're still happy 
with each other at that time, we'll get married and fill that little 
farmhouse with our children. Think about us as you travel and take 
care of yourself."

*******

Jane closed her diary and put it into her steamer trunk. The latest 
entry was dated four months from the entry where she'd described 
her two very different birthday parties and departure from Parker 
Manor. 

Since then, she'd filled several pages of her diary, with her travels 
from England to Africa where she met Sir Walter Desmond, the 
leader of the Safari that she'd accepted employment with. He'd 
been a little angry when he'd discovered that the J. Parker that 
he'd hired through the mail stood for Jane Parker instead of John. 
She'd been lucky because he wasn't able to find a replacement 
and had to take her along as his assistant. 

He allowed her to wear khaki pants and a blouse as they traveled 
during the day but insisted that she change into something more 
appropriate for the afternoon tea and dinner. They would sit around 
a portable table every evening, being fanned by the natives to keep 
the bugs away, as Sir Walter expressed his daily evaluation of that 
day's travels. Jane's job was to listen to him and record his 
thoughts in a journal that Sir Walter planned to present to the 
Queen. He was very impressed with Jane's vocabulary and skillful 
recording of his profound thoughts. In other words, she was writing 
the journal using her words and descriptions but he was claiming 
credit for her writing.

She had grown quite fond of the older man, frequently being so 
personal as to advise him to trim his handlebar mustache when she 
noticed food residue among the thick whiskers. He confessed that 
he'd grown the thick handlebar mustache when he started 
planning this safari because "all jungle explorers" have handlebar 
mustaches. His mustache was quite thick because he had heavy 
facial growth that he shaved every day. Between his bushy 
eyebrows, his handlebar mustache, his daily stubble growth, and 
his khaki clothes, he looked like the explorers that she'd read 
about in her magazines. 

Following their normal camp rituals, as soon as they closed up his 
journal for the day, they would sit around the campfire talking. At 
first he chastised her when she used the word `damn', but after 
awhile he enjoyed being able to talk to her as if she was a man, so 
he permitted her to use any swear word except `fuck'. That word 
was too powerful and crossed too many social barriers for his very 
strict upbringing. He'd also been somewhat upset early in their 
travels when she pulled out a tobacco pouch and lit a cigarette one 
evening as he smoked his evening pipe, but as she pointed out to 
him, what harm did it do for her to enjoy that one nasty habit? He 
permitted her to smoke as long as there were no other people in the 
camp - savages excluded.

Anyone who knew the former Lady Jane Palmer of England's 
Parker Mansion wouldn't recognize the new explorer Jane Palmer. 
Her exposed life-long pale-white skin had been burnt and then 
tanned by repeated exposure to the hot African sun, giving her face 
a new healthy looking copper-tone glow. Gone were her long 
billowing dresses that were stored at the base camp, with only two 
dresses packed into her trunk for emergency social functions. She 
wore either khaki trousers or khaki shorts that revealed her golden 
tanned legs up to her mid-thigh and a khaki blouse that frequently 
clung to her breasts when she was soaked during the sudden cloud 
bursts. Gone was the mass of curly hair that was formerly perfectly 
curled by a hot iron every morning; the hair reverting back to its 
normal natural straight style. The hot sun, frequent showers and 
rugged jungle life had taught her that the most practical hairstyle 
was the common ponytail or braided pigtails tucked up into her 
hat. The several months of hiking through the jungle had toughed 
her body and built strong legs that could walk all day long. 

As per their usual evening custom, they were sitting around the 
evening's roaring and bright campfire, enjoying their individual 
cigarette or pipe smoke-induced mild euphoria's when Jane saw 
the golden eyes for the first time. As usual, both of them were 
constantly aware of the jungle's wild animal sounds and Sir Walter 
had his loaded hunting rifle sitting beside him, as was his custom. 
In the dark jungle brush, they could hear the distant coughing of a 
large lion as it hunted its dinner and the other normal jungle night 
sounds. 

Jane observed the glimmer of the golden eyes of some animal just 
outside the flickering light of their campfires and pointed the eyes 
out to Sir Walter. They were both watching the eyes and trying to 
figure out what type of animal it was with their guesses varying 
from `a big cat' to `a big snake'. So it surprised both of them when 
an almost naked white man with golden eyes stepped into their 
camp.

Startled at the unexpected boldness of their uninvited guest, Sir 
Walter reached for his loaded rifle as Jane slowly stood up to stare 
unafraid at their unexpected visitor. The young man's broad 
shoulders, tall muscular body, light mat of chest hair, lean waist, 
long solid legs, handsome face and thick head of hair wasn't the 
first thing that she stared at - it was the small loincloth that 
covered his waist that attracted her attention. His body was the 
first almost naked white body that she had seen since that time 
that she saw her childhood friend Jack swimming naked in the 
river. She'd seen so many naked black men since she arrived in 
Africa, that seeing a naked man was so normal now that she didn't 
stare at anyone's genitalia after the first cursory glance, unless the 
man had an exceptionally long or thick cock. But a white man 
dressed as a naked savage was new to her. Glancing up at the 
man's face, she was somewhat embarrassed when she realized that 
he knew where she'd been staring. 

He walked straight to their campfire, giving Jane the opportunity to 
notice that he was young - about her age - and was a white man 
although he was dressed as naked barbaric as the native porters. 
His skin was darkly tanned because of many years of exposure to 
the sun. Except for the small loincloth around his waist and a large 
knife in a scabbard attached to his loincloth, he was completely 
naked. He strode barefoot toward their campfire, walking as 
majestically as if he was the King of the Jungle and they were his 
subjects.

He was tall - a little over six feet tall. His body was perfectly 
proportional with wide shoulders, narrow waist and hips over 
massive thighs. His muscular body showed that he'd worked hard 
all of his life instead of playing golf as so many of Jane's former 
English suitors - who pretended that swinging a golf club at a ball 
was adequate exercise. His chest was covered with just enough 
dark curly hair to be interesting to the young woman who had 
never seen a man so perfectly built or comfortable at being this 
naked. The young handsome barbarian stood just on the other side 
of the campfire, holding up his hands, letting the fire's light show 
that he came in peace. Then his deep baritone introduction was a 
simple "I'm Tarzan."

Chapter 2 - The Lost City Legend

Sir Walter continued to hold his rifle, not sure what to think of this 
naked white savage. He felt somewhat intimidated by the young 
man's appearance and attitude. After all, normal people didn't 
walk around the jungle dressed like that and without a rifle. Rising 
to his feet so that young man didn't seem as tall, Sir Walter cradled 
his rifle as he removed the pipe from his mouth "I'm Sir Walter 
Desmond, on an exploration expedition authorized personally by 
Her Majesty, the Queen of England. Welcome to my humble camp. 
This is Lady Jane Parker, my assistant. Now sir, why are you 
dressed like one of the savages?"

A brief smile gleamed exposing a full mouth of white teeth as the 
young man replied in a deep but gentle baritone voice "Because I 
am one of the savages. I've lived all my life in the jungle and dress 
this way because normal clothes have a tendency to be destroyed 
as I live my life the way that I've always lived."

"Is Tarzan your first or last name?" asked Jane, a little pique over 
this unknown, white person dressed like a savage, who just waltzed 
into their camp uninvited. He was very lucky that Sir Walter hadn't 
mistaken him for a wild animal or a thief and accidentally shot him.

He turned slightly and bowed to acknowledge Jane's presence "You 
have keen eyesight. I noticed that you saw me before I really 
entered the fire's light. My name isn't Tarzan, but it's the only 
name that the natives have called me for so many years that I came 
to accept it as my real name. It means `white savage' in one of the 
local native dialects and I've become used to it being my only 
name. I've run across other people out here in the jungle who are 
also known as Tarzan for various reasons. My real name no longer 
means anything to me so I accept the name as if it was the name 
that my parents gave me at my birth."

Before she could reply to his answer to her question, Tarzan turned 
back to Sir Walter "The jungle drums say that you're looking for 
The Lost City. I came to warn you that it doesn't exist and I suggest 
that you stop wasting your time looking for it and risking your lives 
entering dangerous tribal lands. You're only two days from 
Momgua territory and they don't like strangers. They especially 
don't like white strangers."

Sir Walter's rifle made a soft clicking sound as he released the 
safety switch. Turning slightly so that the barrel was pointed more 
directly at Tarzan, Sir Walter asked, "Why are you here trying to 
warn us away? Is it because we're getting close to this place that 
you claim doesn't exist?"

Tarzan's face never quit smiling as he responded "The jungle 
drums also describe the beautiful young lady. If she hadn't been 
here, I would've allowed you to continue and to meet whatever 
destiny is reserved for you. But I came to warn you that she 
shouldn't be here or accompanying you any further into the 
territory. Now that I've warned you, it's on your conscious. Good-
by."

Tarzan turned and walked back across the clearing into the dark 
jungle as Sir Walter stared at his departing back. As soon as he 
blended into the jungle foliage, Sir Walter issued a sharp command 
to the native bearers that resulted in them grabbing their spears 
and forming a guarding circle around the camp.

Jane asked, "What is the Lost City?"

Releasing the safety from his rifle, he responded "It's an ancient 
city. Some say it disappeared about the same time that Atlantis 
disappeared, while other's say it's a more modern city. Either way, 
it's rumored that this city is built on a gold mine that can make the 
finder rich. I know that you think that we're just wandering about 
the jungle, but I'm actually following a map. A map drew by 
someone who saw the city and lived to return to civilization. I think 
the city exists and that's why I'm here." 

"If your map-drawer saw the city, why isn't he rich?"

"You wouldn't understand. A lot of men don't always have the 
strength or force of will to accomplish tasks. I have that personal 
strength and I'm determined to find the mine, to claim it as my 
own with the help of my bearers and to return to England as a very 
rich man."

******

Now that the real reason for the safari was exposed to Jane, a lot of 
the camp gear made sense. There were some explosives, a lot of 
weapons and some of the bearers looked more like mercenaries 
than explorers. For the next week following Tarzan's visit, Jane's 
private diary entries every night noted her rapidly increasing 
dissatisfaction with her role in this safari. It was one thing to 
explore, but another to be planning to rob and pillage a village of its 
native treasures. Every evening since then, they had sat around the 
evening's campfire discussing what Sir Walter planned to do if they 
found the long-lost village and Jane was now convinced that he 
would do whatever it took - even commit murder - to claim the Lost 
City's treasures. She still didn't know or care if it really existed. 
She just knew that she didn't want to be there when and if it was 
found. She made up her mind to leave the safari at the first 
possible moment.

After Tarzan's visit, they had skirted around the Momgua territory 
until today. That's when Brad Johnson and his men joined the 
expedition. Sir Walter had given orders to keep the same camp for 
the last three days and each day, he'd marched off with a small 
group of natives leaving her in the camp. He'd returned early today 
and had paced the camp perimeter smoking his pipe as he stared 
into the brush. Then just before dark, Brad's safari of about forty 
armed men joined them.

Brad Johnson was a swarthy, balding, overweight constantly 
sweating man that had a very obvious cruel streak. He'd been on 
his best behavior ever since his armed band of mercenaries joined 
Sir Walter's team, but something about him seemed so slimy and 
dangerous to Jane that she stayed away from him. He reminded 
her of someone that her father had fired one time for whipping a 
worn-out horse to death.

Upon Brad's arrival, the normal camp-life changed. Instead of a 
quiet dinner at night, Sir Walter and Brad sequestered their selves 
in the large tent and whispered as they conspired over their plans. 
She quickly recognized that there was a dangerous side to the 
gentle Sir Walter that she hadn't recognized before. A side driven 
by greed.

The next morning, the camp quickly packed up and headed straight 
into the Momgua territory. Brad took control of the bearers and 
forced them to cover twice the normal distance before he stopped to 
set up camp. He refused to allow campfires to be built so there was 
no warm food or relaxing after dinner discussions. Instead everyone 
but the guards turned in early to rest for another hard day's 
march.

Per Brad's unusual orders that everyone sleep in their clothes, 
Jane was almost fully dressed as she slept in the privacy of her 
centrally-placed tent, a loaded pistol by her side. The pistol was 
more to protect Jane from her companions than from the unseen 
inhabitants of this section of the jungle. 

Jane was awakened during her sleep by a weird cry. Jumping to 
her feet, she slipped on her boots and rushed out of her tent to 
discover a crowd forming around something. Pushing her way 
through the crowd, she saw a bent-over Brad examining a native 
guard whose headless body was lying on the ground. Sir Walter saw 
her at the same time as she passed out.

******

When she woke up, she was surprised to find herself on a stretcher 
being carried by some of the native bearers as the packed-up safari 
wound its way through the jungle that was barely visible from the 
faint light of the sunrise. One of the bearers helped her to her feet 
as another one of the bearers went forward to find Sir Walter. He 
returned quickly to admonish her "Don't wander from the guards 
that's been assigned to you."

"What happened to that man?" she asked, still feeling weak from 
seeing such a cruel death so close.

"It was a warning to turn back. A warning that we've obviously 
ignored. We're continuing deep into Momgua territory and we're 
not going to let those stupid natives scare us."

******

The campfires were lit that night because there was obviously no 
need for secrecy now that their presence was known. Jane noticed 
that the guards were doubled around the camp that night.

The next morning, there were no deaths, but they were short almost 
thirty porters who'd silently disappeared sometime during the 
night, reducing their total force to less than one hundred total. That 
day, they discovered another headless body tied to a tree in the 
middle of the trail that someone recognized as a former porter - one 
of the deserters. That night, Brad and Sir Walter alternated being 
up all night to keep the bearers from disappearing, but they still 
lost over seventy people whom deserted somehow during the night. 
The remaining safari of sixteen people discarded a lot of gear, 
taking only what was necessary - guns, ammo, food, water and Sir 
Walter's small trunk of maps and journals. Even Jane was pressed 
into service to carry food and ammo, leaving behind her small 
trunk; being permitted only to carry her personal diary.

They pressed forward, refusing to stop for rests until everyone was 
almost exhausted. That's when the attack occurred.

A lead scout fell over dead as the spear penetrated his chest. Jane 
dropped her pack and ran for shelter - a big tree. As she reached 
the tree, a painted native stepped out from behind the tree and 
clubbed her with his club.

******

Jane's head hurt. Everything hurt, but her head hurt the most. 
Her throat was dry and her lips felt parched. Ignoring her pain, she 
opened her eyes, discovering that her arms and legs were bound 
and that she was in a native hut.

She tried to sit up but the way that she was tied prevented her from 
getting into a comfortable position. She humped the floor as she 
turned and rotated only to discover that another similarly tied 
prisoner was quietly watching her. He whispered "I think that 
they're all dead. It was a trap and they massacred us. It's only me 
and you."

She recognized him as one of the guards that joined the camp with 
Brad. She whispered back "What about Sir Walter?"

"I saw him run back down the trail with a painted Momgua right 
behind him. He's probably out there in the jungle with a spear 
through his back."

"Can you untie me?"

He shook his head no then whispered "They broke my fingers when 
they captured me."

Their discussion was interrupted by someone lifting a tent flap and 
saying something in a language that she didn't understand. Then 
two men entered the hut and roughly picked her up from the floor, 
carrying her by her arms. She was dumped on the ground as if she 
was a sack of potatoes. A foot gingerly slipped under her chin and 
pried her face up. Staring up at the bright sun, all Jane could see 
was the outline of the foot's owner. Then a woman's voice asked, 
"Do you speak English?"

Squinting into the sun, Jane was able to see that the voice's owner 
was a young black woman. Through her parched lips, Jane grunted 
"Yes, please help me."

The woman replied "I'll do what I can but you're going to have to 
tolerate a little more punishment first before I can you to a safe 
place."

The woman switched languages and began talking to someone that 
Jane couldn't see from her facedown position. As Jane listened to 
them talk, she could tell from her limited knowledge of African 
languages that the woman was haggling with some man over the 
ownership of Jane. Finally the woman's voice changed to English 
again "You were expensive - one pig. Just relax and wait because I 
can't leave until tomorrow. Until then, you're still their prisoner."

She was carried back and dumped in the same dark hut. Only this 
time, she was all alone. They left her alone overnight, tied tightly 
with nothing to eat or drink. She allowed herself to pee on herself 
because she couldn't hold it back any longer.

The next morning, someone came into the dark hut, cut her ropes, 
and handed her a bowl of gruel. She wolfed the gruel down while 
her unknown benefactor waited. When she dropped the empty 
bowl, her female benefactor said in English "The Momgua were 
going to kill you but I purchased your freedom. You belong to me - 
Understand? You show me the proper respect while I lead you out 
of here or the Momgua might not honor their portion of the 
bargain."

The woman's strong hands lifted Jane's chin as the woman slipped 
something around her neck, then she fumbled with a buckle. When 
she was finished, she gave a little tug on a rope, almost pulling a 
very weak Jane off her feet. The woman repeated Jane's 
instructions "You come where I lead and don't say anything or look 
at them. I don't want you to accidentally insult anyone as we're 
leaving."

Jane was led out of the hut, motivated by strong tugs on the rope 
that kept her moving. She paused for a second to stare at the dead 
body of the other prisoner lying beside the entrance to the hut but 
the sharp tug of the rope kept her going. The woman led Jane 
through the center of the village and down a path to a river where 
they climbed into a canoe. The woman handed Jane a paddle as 
she whispered "Keep it up for another twenty minutes until we put 
some distance between us and them. Then I'll stop and let you 
clean up some."

Jane was weak and could barely hold the paddle, much less wield it 
correctly but somehow she found the strength to do as directed. It 
was with a lot of relief that the woman directed the prow of the 
canoe into shore about twenty minutes later. The woman 
unfastened the leash around Jane's neck, leaving the leather collar 
still in place "Keep this on and I'll have to put you back on the 
lease until we're really out of here. Get in the water and clean 
yourself. You smell like you shit in your britches."

Jane fell in the water and just floated, letting the flowing water 
clean and refresh her. For several minutes, she just relaxed, feeling 
a little strength come back. She turned to stare at her benefactor - 
a young woman that could only be described as a black amazon. 
The woman's natural skin color was dark, not black like the 
Momgua natives. She was tall for a woman - close to six feet tall, 
slightly broad-shouldered, and had very long legs - legs that were 
strong and muscular like a man's legs. Her long dark hair was 
braided into pigtails festooned with bright ribbons. Her clothes were 
a simple mid-thigh skirt and a leather halter to support her 
breasts. Her lower arms were covered with a leather wrist guard. 
Around her waist was a short belt, which supported a scabbard-
encased knife and a small leather bag.

Jane asked, "Who are you?"

The woman responded "I'm Laywan, a chief of the Thrudds. 
Whether you like it or not, you're now a member of the Thrudds. 
The Momgua territory completely surrounds our small village and 
we are allowed to come and go only as they permit."

"I'm Jane Parker. My father is rich. If you can just get me to a large 
city, I can make you rich."

Laywan laughed "What good is riches in a jungle? Can your money 
buy me a longer life? Better air, a good husband or remove this scar 
from my leg? Rich is a state of mind."

"How did you learn to speak such perfect English?"

"If the Momgua don't kill their captives, we buy them and adopt 
them into our tribe. Over the years, we've become a multiple 
language tribe because of the large number of English captives that 
have come to live with us - thanks to the warring nature of the 
Momguas."

******

Laywan did most of the paddling for the rest of the morning while 
Jane rested. Then they stored the canoe on the riverbank and 
started climbing a steep trail that quickly carried them up into the 
mountains. 

As Laywan walked up the mountain in front of Jane, the worn-out 
Englishwoman couldn't help but stare at the Amazon's muscular 
legs that were almost constantly at Jane's eye-level as they climbed 
the steep trail. Jane had seen so many naked women since arriving 
in Africa, that the sight of a woman's naked body no longer startled 
her. But this woman's semi-naked body was different because of 
her strong athletic build. Her lean body was the result of constant 
exercises, not dieting like Jane's friends did back home. The 
ebony's woman's body glistened with a light coating of sweat that 
further highlighted her muscle definition as the woman easily 
climbed the steep trail.

Behind her, Jane admired the beautiful muscles her new "owner" 
possessed in her legs. Just looking at the very prominent 
hamstrings, Jane could tell that the woman had a lot of power 
available and ready whenever she needed it. Once when Jane was 
gasping for breath from her exertion, Laywan turned to face Jane 
and began flexing her quad muscles up and down to stretch out the 
muscles while she waited on Jane to recover her breathing. Jane 
could only stare at the expanding quads as they jutted out like a 
runner's muscles, recognizing that her own legs looked weak and 
undeveloped compared to her new friend's legs.

They walked until just before dark when they reached a 
campground. A very weak and tired Jane didn't resist as Laywan 
tied Jane's hands and feet so that she couldn't escape while 
Laywan slept. The next morning, they continued their journey, 
reaching a steep cliff just before dark. Again, Jane was tied during 
the night.

The next morning, Laywan guided Jane to a small trail along the 
face of the cliff. For hours, they walked a very narrow trail, hugging 
the cliff face until they reached a narrow rope footbridge across a 
chasm. When Jane reached the other side, Laywan said, "You're 
now in Thrudd land. That bridge is the only way in or out. Don't 
ever attempt to escape because we'll catch you."

They went up and down more cliff faces until they stood on a small 
cliff overlooking a green valley with a beautiful river flowing through 
it. Laywan pointed to a small clearing, declaring "There is my home 
- The Lost City."

******

The next two days were a blur for Jane. They allowed her to rest 
because it was obvious that she was exhausted from her ordeal. 
They gave her a small hut and she spent most of the time sleeping. 
Laywan spent some time with her, telling Jane about the Thrudds 
and the Lost City.

The Lost City really existed. It was in a mountain valley where there 
was only one way in - the rope bridge which was tightly guarded by 
both tribes - and two ways out - the rope bridge and the waterfall. 
The river flowing through the valley eventually ended in a four 
hundred-foot waterfall that flowed into the jungle below. Laywan 
noted that some people had survived going over the waterfall but 
most people didn't.

The Lost City got its name because a former mountain trail 
collapsed, leaving the inhabitants trapped for almost a century 
before they found they could build a rope bridge at a certain point 
and get out. By that time, the residents were used to their privacy 
and new self-reliance. Where they had been descendants of the 
Momgua tribe, now they considered themselves to be a separate 
tribe. When they re-established relations with the Momguas, both 
tribes recognized each other's individual sovereignty. The Momguas 
didn't want the Thrudd's remote lands and the Thrudds enjoyed 
their isolation.

There was a gold mine, but it didn't produce as much gold as Sir 
Walter imagined. Most of the gold had been removed over two 
hundred years before and now the mine didn't produce enough to 
make it worth mining. And the majority of the gold that had been 
removed had been used to trade with the Momguas or stolen by 
escapees. 

Yes, escapees. The Thrudds had early recognized that the isolation 
could produce too much in-breeding with such a small village, so 
they used the time-honored custom of raiding other jungle villages 
to obtain new villagers of breeding age. But the truce with the 
Momguas prevented raiding the Momguas tribe and other tribes 
were too far away. Their problem was resolved when the Momguas 
offered to give the Thrudds first choice on any captives that the 
Momguas didn't kill or want for their own breeding programs. The 
eight or ten people every year that the Thrudds brought back to 
their village were more than enough to provide the genetic 
difference to support their tribe's long-term existence and to give 
the tribe an understanding of world-wide changes. Over the last two 
hundred years, most of the people brought back to the village were 
either English, Spanish or Portuguese explorers, thus the reason 
that most of the current villagers were light skinned and spoke 
multiple languages. 

The Thrudds were unique because all of the village elders or chiefs 
were women. Apparently something in the water caused most 
babies to be born female and the females were normally larger and 
stronger than the men were. In this tribe, the women were the 
warriors and the men were the food preparers or farmers. Most of 
the men who were born in the valley were Jane's height while most 
of the women were Laywan's height and general build. Any male 
that was over five foot four inches had probably been born outside 
the valley. There were currently about sixteen hundred men and 
women in the tribe, with about seventy-five men that had been 
born elsewhere. Jane was the first white woman although there 
were about thirty black women who had entered the tribe through 
similar circumstances. 

And that's why Jane was there - to be the latest addition to their 
breeding program. Laywan told Jane that she would learn to love 
the new life. She would be assigned a different lover each month 
until she became pregnant. After her baby was born, she would 
again sample a different lover every month and repeat the cycle 
until she had born five babies by different lovers. Then she would 
be free to select and marry a husband if she desired. Until she had 
five children, she had to have a different lover every month, even if 
she fell in love with one of her lovers. 

Jane asked Laywan why she wasn't married. The response was 
"My blood is the blood of thousands of years of our village 
forefathers. I can only marry an outsider. And I have chosen my 
mate although he hasn't acknowledged my selection. He doesn't 
live in the Lost City and only visits us occasionally. When he visits 
the next time, you'll see why I lost my heart to him."

Jane laughed at the irony of the situation. She had fled her father's 
estate because he wanted her to marry a young man of his 
choosing and to basically provide him with many grandchildren 
that he could be proud of. And here in the jungle thousands of 
miles from her home, it appeared that her destiny was to be a 
mother also.

******

She lost her virginity on the third night in the village. Not by her 
choosing or by her willing participation but because it was so 
mandated by the tribal council. Because she was a virgin, they 
awarded her as if she was a trophy to a male that was one of their 
top farmers. Laywan told her about the tribal decision then left her 
with two women whose jobs were to make sure that she didn't run 
away, that she was properly prepared to meet her new mate and 
that the de-flowering took place. 

The women shared their dinner meal with Jane as they talked 
about the decision but Jane didn't notice that a small herb was 
added to her meal. Twenty minutes after dinner was finished, a very 
complacent and happy Jane was more than willing to do whatever 
the women suggested. The women escorted the very glassy-eyed 
Jane to the river and bathed her, throwing away the clothing that 
she'd been wearing ever since her capture. They gave her some new 
clothes very similar to what Laywan wore but without the weapons. 
They also gave her some clothes that they laughingly described as 
"bedtime clothes". They washed, brushed, and combed her hair, 
decorating her hair with flowers and beads. Then they left a very 
warm, happy and slightly drugged Jane in her hut, waiting for her 
first man.

Jane wasn't too thrilled when she woke up the next morning and 
saw the naked man sleeping beside her. She remembered 
everything that they had done together but it had seemed like a 
faint dream. Everything seemed so fuzzy but normal from the 
moment that the man entered her hut. She remembered welcoming 
him to her hut with a kiss and undressing each other before she 
proudly guided him to her bed. She remembered touching his 
throbbing manhood and enjoying the feel of the hard, heavy cock 
growing in response to her gentle touch. She remembered stroking 
his hard cock and seeing the look of pure satisfaction on his face as 
she played with him. She remembered guiding his very hard cock to 
that very private part of her body that she had protected for so 
many years - her vagina. She remembered the burning and hurting 
as he entered her, then remembered how the burning changed to a 
different type of burning - a burning where she couldn't get enough 
of him. She remembered the wonderful series of orgasms that 
accompanied her migration from virgin to womanhood. She 
remembered his energy-less collapse on top of her after he pumped 
his hot load deep into her and how she fought to keep him hard, to 
keep him thrusting into her as she begged for more. She 
remembered how they both fell asleep exhausted, his semi-flaccid 
manhood buried inside her.

Pushing the memories aside, she slipped out of bed and examined 
herself as tears flowed down her cheeks. Was she pregnant? How 
could she tell if she was pregnant? Her legs were sore from the 
repeated pounding by his body and her breasts hurt from his 
repeated sucking and squeezing. Her dark mound of pubic hair was 
matted with his dried cum and there were bruises between her legs. 
She grabbed her new clothes and quickly dressed, then headed to 
the river to cleanse herself, leaving the man still asleep. The man 
whose name she didn't know.

She undressed and dived into the river naked, letting the water 
cleanse her body and mind. When she finally felt clean, she dressed 
in her amazon short skirt, leather halter, and leather boots. She 
returned to her hut to find that the man had cleaned the hut before 
leaving.

Later in the morning, Laywan talked to her but Jane didn't want to 
talk to Laywan or any of the other damned women. The most 
important possession of her life had been taken away from her and 
given to a complete stranger. All of her life-long romantic 
daydreams where she found the perfect man and they rode off into 
the sunset, had been destroyed.

When the two amazon women came to prepare her for her second 
night to be the man's bed companion, Jane refused to cooperate 
with their friendly requests. She refused to eat or drink anything, 
knowing that was how they drugged her the previous night. Then 
the two women showed Jane that if necessary, they would use their 
superior force to gain her compliance. Jane fought them but their 
much larger size and greater strength quickly overpowered her, 
even though she fought like a trapped wildcat. She spat out the 
drug that they stuffed into her mouth, but they had a trick to get 
her to swallow some of it. Twenty minutes later, a more calm and 
slightly drugged Jane gladly accepted the full dosage of the drug, 
then let her new friends guide her back to the river for the evening 
cleansing.

It was the same man in bed beside her when she awoke the next 
morning. She crawled out of bed and sat naked on the floor in the 
corner of the hut crying. Her sobbing woke him up and he slipped 
out of bed, pausing only long enough to grab his clothes before he 
slipped naked out the hut's door. Five minutes later the two 
amazon women entered the hut, carrying a glass of water. One of 
them softly commanded "This will take the hurt away. When you 
don't need it anymore, we'll stop it."

Jane's shaking hands eagerly accepted the glass, knowing that it 
contained one of the mysterious drugs instead of water. She turned 
the glass up, drinking the liquid the same way that she used to 
drink her father's stolen whiskey - bottoms up. Five minutes later, 
the smile had returned to her face and she felt happy. She willingly 
accepted her friend's directions to visit the river and to clean her 
body. Then she returned to her hut and spent the rest of the 
morning in a semi-daze. At lunchtime, she eagerly accepted a 
second glass of the "happy water" as she called it. After her dinner 
and third, more powerful glass of "happy water", she was sitting in 
her hut waiting on the man. Her body was burning and itching for 
him. She felt a strong desire for him and couldn't wait for him to 
enter her hut. 

When he stepped into the hut, she attacked him with a passion 
that she didn't believe possible. She made love to him two long 
times before he rolled over to go to sleep off his exhaustion. She 
slipped out of bed and stared at the spare glass of "happy water" 
sitting on her shelf - the drugs that helped her overcome her 
reluctance.

Standing naked in the center of her hut with her body coated with 
sweat and drying cum, she eagerly drank the glass of "happy 
water" then climbed back in bed beside the already sleeping man. 
As the "happy waters" warm buzz began flowing through her body, 
she sought new ways to entertain her man. She gently convinced 
him to roll over on his back so that she could stare at his cock that 
was just as asleep as the man. Not knowing what she was doing, 
she let her lips drift down his body until her lips were touching his 
shriveled cock. She remembered Mary Beth telling her about doing 
this to a man once.

Chapter 3 - Nasroi's Tall Tales

At the end of the week, there was only pure water in her glass, but 
Jane acted the same as if was full of the mysterious drug that they 
called happy water. As soon as the man entered the privacy of her 
hut at dusk, she attacked him with the same fierce passion as she 
had when she was drugged. The combination of drugs and sex had 
awakened a strong passion in her that had to be satisfied - the 
passion of sex. She now realized that the main reason that she had 
cried the first couple of times, was because this wasn't the way 
that she intended to lose her virginity. She also learned the man's 
name - Mogu.

During the day, she enjoyed her new freedom. Yes, it was freedom 
because she was allowed to roam freely through the village or 
jungle as long as she fulfilled the role that that the tribal elders had 
assigned for her. It was freedom because there were no stuffy dress 
codes telling her what to wear. It was freedom because she was a 
woman - a member of the ruling class of the tribe. Even though she 
was a captive, her gender gave her more freedom than any man in 
the village. It was freedom because the women treated her as an 
equal. She enjoyed the freedom of going naked if she desired, letting 
the sun tan her body; knowing that somewhere in England, her 
cousin Saddie was struggling as she slipped into the crinoline skirt 
and hoops that the English society demanded from its young 
women. She enjoyed the freedom of sitting on a high cliff face and 
feeling the wind blow through her hair. 

She would leave the hut in the morning with a big smile on her face 
and strike off on her own, exploring the valley. As her legs became 
stronger from the weeks of strenuous hiking, she began pushing 
her body harder. She ran across the flat valley floor, enjoying the 
thrill of long distance running. She swam the river, enjoying the 
freedom of swimming naked or diving from the cliffs into the pools. 
She climbed the cliff, enjoying the danger of the steep cliffs, using 
her new muscles to pull herself to the cliff tops. She challenged the 
Amazon Warrior Women to foot races to test her speed and 
endurance against theirs. She practiced their warrior training with 
them, using their weapons, and quickly learning how to handle a 
spear and a knife. She enjoyed the adventure of climbing on top of 
an elephant and guiding the huge beast across the valley floor. She 
hunted with them, enjoying the thrill of participating in a boar kill 
with Laywan one day and the next - killing her own boar with only 
her spear as the sharp-tusked pig charged her. She enjoyed the 
freedom of her new life.

By the end of the first month of living with the Trudds, there were 
more physical and mental changes in her. Anyone that had known 
the civilized Jane of the last several years wouldn't have recognized 
the new Jane. She proudly wore the short skirt and leather halter 
of the Amazon Warrior Women. Or she just as proudly walked 
around the village baring her perky breasts the way that most of 
the native women dressed when within the village. Her long dark 
hair was braided into long colorful ribbon-filled braids that flowed 
halfway down her tanned back. One of her ears was pierced and a 
symbol of Amazon womanhood - a small gold earring - was dangling 
from her ear. Around her neck, she wore a gold necklace - a gift 
from Mogu.

After the council saw that Jane accepted her fate and new life with 
the tribe, they began giving her training to be an Amazon warrior. 
She was taught how to throw a spear, how to fight with a knife, and 
how to hunt game with a bow and arrow. She thought about taking 
a new name to symbolize her adoption into the tribe and to help her 
separate her old life from her new life - her new name that she 
considered was Tonya.

Her new life kept her busy, but she felt the best that she'd ever felt 
in her life. Being an Amazon warrior, she had to exercise every 
muscle in her body so she was always either running, swimming or 
lifting weights when she wasn't being trained in warrior principles 
or curled up in bed beside Mogu at night. Her already lean body 
was even leaner with more muscle definition. One day as she stared 
at her new reflection in the water, she wondered what her old 
friends in England would say if they could see this savage version of 
their former friend. And what would her so prim and proper Father 
say if he knew that his potential grandchildren were going to be 
black savages?

So it was a very different Jane that came trotting back into the 
village after a hunting trip to find two new captive white men in the 
village - Sir Walter Desmond and Brad Johnson. She almost didn't 
recognize the two men who she thought were dead. Both men had 
lost a lot of weight, had thick scruffy beards and were wearing their 
old clothes which were dirty and torn.

Brad was the first to see her. His eyes stared at her sweat-coated, 
tanned, almost naked body and she felt a strong sense of revulsion 
as he smiled at her with that familiar greasy smile of his.

A very emaciated Sir Walter's mouth dropped open, his mouth 
barely seen through the unkempt overhanging mustache "Jane? Is 
that you? We thought that you were dead." 

She placed the butt of her spear on the ground and used the spear 
as a leaning post before she acknowledged the older man's 
questions "They brought me here as soon as they captured me."

A thin spittle of drool was escaping Brad's lips as he continued to 
stare at Jane "Looks like you made yourself at home. Is it true that 
they want us for sex?"

Jane shifted the spear in her hand so that she demonstrated a 
defensive position against Brad "They bring outsiders into the tribe 
to keep from having future problems caused by generations of in-
breeding. I have a lover and I'll make damn sure that you're not 
one of my future lovers."

Brad grinned a broad grin "So you've got a black stud. No wonder 
you've degenerated into being a savage."

******

Having Brad and Sir Walter in the village destroyed the euphoria 
that she had been feeling. Seeing them reminded her that she was 
Jane, not Tonya. She still wore the leather halter but no longer 
went topless within the village. And she observed a very cleaned-up 
Brad watching her swim naked in the river one morning. When she 
swam back to shore, he was sitting on the sandbar beside her 
clothes. He didn't avert his eyes as she walked out of the water, 
picked up her clothes and walked into the jungle to dress.

Laywan told her that they almost didn't bargain for the new 
captive's lives because the old man was too old for breeding and 
the other man - well, Brad didn't exactly turn any of the women 
on. After their first day in the village, both men were given duties. 
Brad was assigned to the fields to work as a farmer and Sir Walter 
was given cleaning duties.

Sir Walter was very upset with the change in Jane, declaring it very 
improper for an English Lady of proper upbringing to dress and act 
like a common savage. Brad accepted her new look and attitude 
and reflected his acceptance in his frequent question - "do you 
want to fuck?"

While she had quickly blended in with her new friends, she felt 
drawn to spend time with Sir Walter. He told her how several of 
them had escaped into a nearby swamp where they had lived for 
weeks while hiding from the Momguas. Then four of them tried to 
escape the swamp at night and were captured. The Momguas killed 
the other captives and sold the two starving white captives to the 
Thrudds.

So it wasn't any surprise when Sir Walter hinted that Brad had 
been prowling around the mine. Or any surprise when he hinted 
that they were considering an escape. Jane was torn between 
escaping with them or staying. Her decision was made for her, 
when the tribe council told Mogu to quit his nightly visits and 
directed the tribe's historian, Nasroi, to spend his month as Jane's 
paramour. 

There was a distinct difference between Jane's first two tribal 
lovers. While Mogu was filled with passion, Nasroi was the 
technician, making sure that they were both satisfied. Where Mogu 
humped Jane with pure physical passion, Nasroi played her like a 
fine violin, using his talents instead of pure physical force to bring 
her to repeated orgasms.

Mogu was a farmer but Nasroi was a historian. His job was to 
document the tribe's history so he had access to all of the tribe's 
records. So he had access to their secrets. And about the third 
night of sleeping in Jane's arms, Nasroi told her his most prized 
secret. He knew where the Thrudd Chalice was hidden. As a woman 
that was rapidly learning how to use her female body and feminine 
charms, Jane knew how to get him to reveal the secret of the 
Chalice. 

Thanks to a combination of her lips and expert teasing with her 
nipples, he freely told her the truth about their ancient secret. Any 
two people whose lips touched the magical Chalice at the same time 
would exchange bodies. The Chalice was an ancient drinking vessel 
that was older than time and had been passed down through the 
tribe elders for generations. While it offered unlimited body 
exchange, the tribe strictly controlled its use. The only time it was 
used, was when a person's real sex wasn't the same as their born 
sex, or to prolong the life to a dying warrior, using a problem 
captive as the host.

When Nasroi told her about that secret use of the Chalice, Jane 
realized that she hadn't seen any flaming queers within the 
Thrudds. Through questioning and sexual teasing, Jane learned 
that when children began exhibiting sexual mannerisms that 
weren't compatible with their normal body, that a suitable body 
with the opposite traits would be matched up with the gender 
confused person. The two people would spend the night together 
and come out in the morning, with the new body and identity of the 
other person.

She listened to his bragging, wondering how much of his story was 
true - after all this was the 1890's and everyone knew that there 
wasn't any such thing as magic. 

Jane hinted that she would like to see the Chalice, which upset 
Nasroi. He responded by making her promise that she wouldn't 
reveal that she was aware of the Chalice. No outsiders were ever 
told about the Chalice unless the Chalice was used to clear up 
"problems" with the outsider. Nasroi told her that she would be 
considered an outsider until she was permitted to marry after the 
birth of her fifth child. And to answer her request - no one except 
the Chiefs were permitted to see the Chalice.

******

The tribe knew that Brad was spending a lot of off-duty time in the 
mine, but aside from a couple of gentle suggestions to return to his 
assigned duties, he was allowed to continue his exploration. 
Laywan told Jane that after a captive proved to himself that there 
wasn't any gold that the captive usually started working on ways to 
escape. And that they let some captives escape, knowing that the 
Momgua tribe wouldn't allow the captive to live. Laywan joked that 
both of Jane's friends were substandard potential members - Sir 
Walter because of his age and Brad because of his cruel streak.

Brad thought that he could get any woman that he wanted and by 
his second day in the village, he had pissed off most of the tribe's 
women with his actions. He learned the hard way that he couldn't 
mess with any of the warrior women when one of them decked him 
for touching her naked breast. So he began picking on Jane 
because of her smaller size and because he didn't think that she 
could really stop him.

So it wasn't really hard to guess who it was that assaulted her one 
evening. Jane returned from her grueling exercises and went to her 
hut to get her hairbrush and soap. It was her habit to clean up 
before greeting her lover. As soon as she entered her dark hut, a 
rough hand wrapped around her mouth and another hand wrapped 
around her waist, pulling her tightly against her attacker's body. 
She struggled but his superior male strength was too strong for 
her. His heavier body forced her to the ground and pinned her, 
despite her struggles. He turned his attention to removing her 
leather halter, which gave her the opportunity that she needed to 
grab her knife and to slash at his face. She felt her knife slice 
through his skin and he let go of her as he grabbed at his damaged 
face. She backed up and held her knife as she stared at his dark 
outline, seeing only the gleam of the hatred radiating from his eyes. 
He turned and ran out the door, leaving a very angry Jane standing 
in the middle of her hut, her knees shaking slightly from the 
tension.

She went straight to the tribal council to report her attack. They 
sent several Amazon Warrior Women to find Brad and to bring him 
back. It took two days before they found him hiding in a cave but 
he was dragged back to the center of the village where the tribal 
council voted on his punishment. It was very evident that he was 
Jane's attacker because his face had a nasty wound across his left 
cheek and nose that would leave a vivid scar. 

The council voted on his punishment and was one vote shy of 
death. Instead he was given another chance and given the worst job 
in the valley - cleaning the outhouses and hauling the shit away. In 
addition to the obvious punishment of his new degrading job, he 
was further punished by the removal of one testicle - a permanent 
warning that if he screwed up again, he wouldn't be of any further 
value to the tribe.

******

Two weeks later Jane was hunting with Laywan when she heard the 
cry echo through the cliffs. It was a cry unlike any that she'd ever 
heard before - a combination of yodeling, bellowing, and screeching 
at the same time. She turned to ask Laywan whose face was all-
aglow as she listened to the last vibrations of the echoing sound 
"What is that?"

Laywan's big smile lit up her face as she happily responded "It's a 
special friend whose return I've been waiting for. Come, let's go 
greet him."

The suddenly very enthused Amazon woman set off running at an 
extremely faster pace than normal that pushed the much smaller 
Jane's shorter legs to keep up with her much longer-legged friend. 
They ran through the forest, stretching Jane's endurance as she 
pushed herself almost to the breaking point, determined to keep up 
with her friend. Although the two women frequently raced each 
other, this race's distance and constant high speed began to tell on 
Jane. She tried to follow in Laywan's footsteps and stumbled when 
Laywan easily cleared a log with her long legs while Jane's shorter 
stride didn't clear the log. A sweating Laywan paused only for a 
second to encourage her friend to get up and keep coming, then 
resumed her break-neck high speed run. Jane leaped to her feet 
and continued after her friend, wishing that her own legs were as 
long as Laywan's legs at that moment.

Down they rushed through the forest floor onto the valley's main 
trail where they were joined by several other women that were also 
running toward the village. When they reached the village center, 
the gathered crowd parted to let the sweat-coated Laywan through 
the crowd - after all, she was one of the chiefs. Jane followed 
closely on her friend's heels and stepped out into the central circle 
to discover an almost naked white man talking to the village elders. 
It was Tarzan.

She stared at his body in a different way now that she wasn't a 
virgin. Instead of staring at his face, her eyes flowed down his body, 
checking out his massive wide shoulders, his muscular chest, his 
lean waist and his loincloth covered groin. Over the weeks that 
she'd been there, she'd become used to the smaller overall 
physical size of the village's native men so that the normal-sized 
Tarzan seemed like a giant now. A giant with a possibly very large 
penis. 

She was staring at his groin, imagining what he looked under that 
small garment when he turned and caught her obviously staring at 
his groin. An understanding grin lit up his handsome face as Jane 
realized that her evident gaze hadn't gone unnoticed. Recognizing 
that she was caught in the act, her already flushed face turned 
three different shades of red. 

He nodded to Laywan to acknowledge the ebony woman's arrival. 
The slight notice was sufficient to appease Laywan's ego. She 
responded to his simple greeting with a beaming smile and a 
slightly arched back which forced her still hard-breathing and 
heaving sweat-coated breasts forward. Tarzan's attention 
immediately skipped over Laywan and focused on the grimy and 
extremely sweating red-faced Jane who was standing slightly 
behind Laywan.

Tarzan walked toward the two women, smiling at Laywan just 
before he barely bypassed her so that he was standing in front of 
Jane. His deep voice greeted her with, "I see that you didn't follow 
my advice to turn around. Maybe next time, you'll listen."

Without waiting for a response, he turned around so that his body 
bumped slightly into Laywan's very close body, causing him to stop 
for a moment as he stared into her gleaming eyes. His voice lowered 
as he apologized "Excuse me." to which she responded with a soft 
"Anytime?"

He quickly winked suggestively to Laywan as if they shared a very 
personal secret. Like a majestic lion, he strode back across the 
open clearing to the circle of chiefs where he sat down among them 
in the central position of honor that was usually reserved for the 
eldest chief. An obviously happy Laywan turned away from the 
circle and pushed through the still-gathering crowd as Jane 
followed in her friend's wake. As soon as they were outside the 
circle of people, Laywan's erect posture collapsed as she burst out 
laughing and began giggling like a silly schoolgirl. She confessed to 
Jane "That's him. That's the man that I've been waiting for and 
want to be my husband. I'm going to take him to my hut tonight 
and fuck him as he's never been fucked before."

******

Laywan's gloomy face at the next morning's breakfast told Jane 
that Laywan's seduction plans hadn't worked. Jane sat down 
beside her depressed friend and whispered in jest "Do you want me 
to help you kidnap him?"

Laywan's high-pitched voice reflected her anger and hurt as she 
answered "After we left him in the village circle, I rushed to the 
river and bathed, then put on my best clothes and jewelry before I 
rejoined the tribal council. He was telling the elders about his 
travels and how much the outside world has changed since his last 
visit. We told him about our crops, about our plentiful game and re-
affirmed our desire to remain isolated from the rest of the world. 
After our elder's open discussion with our friend, we had a formal 
dinner to celebrate his return. I was very happy when he choose to 
sit beside me as we ate and I talked to him about many things. He 
was very curious about you and asked a lot of questions about you, 
being surprised that you've blended into our lifestyle so well. I told 
him about you and also about me - how I was now ready my 
responsibility to bear my first child for my village. He didn't flinch 
or respond as I told him that I had been saving myself, waiting for 
the right man to share my bed; only thing that he did, was smile a 
all-knowing smile. Instead of asking if I had a mate, he wanted to 
know if you had chosen a mate yet so I told him about your willing 
acceptance of our mandatory mating ritual and how you currently 
share your hut with our men. Just before the meal was over, I told 
him how to find my hut - in case he wanted to talk to me about 
anything. He smiled at me and whispered in a very soft voice that 
he knew where my hut was. I thought that everything was going the 
way that I had always planned it. I tried to not appear overeager 
and walked very quietly back to my hut where I re-freshened my 
perfume and laid naked on my bed, waiting for my bronzed god to 
slip into my bed. Lying naked on the bed, I quickly discovered that 
my thighs were quivering with desire and my nipples were 
engorged, as I thought about his beautiful body and what I wanted 
him to do to me. I fought the urge to play with myself, saving myself 
so that he could ravish me. Two long hours of waiting for him and I 
realized that he wasn't going to come to me, so I spent most of the 
night, sitting on my bed crying and thinking about what I did 
wrong, trying to figure out why he didn't want me. I kept going 
back to all his questions about you and figured out that it's you, 
not me, that he really wants."

Jane felt the anger in her friend's voice and she quickly tried to 
sooth the hurt feelings "Look, he's all yours. I don't want anything 
to do with him and the only reason that he even knows that I'm 
alive is because I met him when we were out on the jungle plains. 
I'm happy with Nasroi."

A small tear flowed down the larger woman's ebony cheek and her 
normally happy voice quivered slightly as she stared in Jane's eyes 
before proclaiming "I know when I'm wanted and not wanted. I 
know that he likes me as a friend and I can accept his refusal of my 
generous offer. If he changes his mind or gives me some sign that 
he wants me, that will make me extremely happy. If he doesn't 
want me and wants someone else - I'll live with that. If he prefers 
you to me - then I'll help you catch him the same as you would 
help me. Either way, you're my friend and I won't fight with you 
over him. You can have him."

Jane shook her head as she recognized the defeated tone in her 
friend's voice "He doesn't want me either. I would know if he was 
attracted to me and he isn't. I feel that he's a free spirit that only 
wants to roam the jungle."

******

After Laywan regained her composure and the two women re-
affirmed their friendship for each other, Jane felt somewhat better 
over her friend's disappointment. Laywan went for a walk so that 
she could think and give her puffy face time to recover while Jane 
went down to the river for her morning cleansing and exercise.

As usual, Jane was swimming naked in the river, enjoying the 
coolness of the water and the mild euphoria that she felt whenever 
she exercised. But suddenly a large underwater hand grabbed her 
ankle, pulling her slightly under water as whoever had hold of her 
pulled her under the water. She immediately struggled against the 
strong unknown grip but whatever grabbed her, let go and she 
swam back up to the surface. Angrily she surfaced and began 
quickly swimming to shore where her waiting weapons provided 
some protection. Ten feet away from her, Tarzan's head surfaced 
from the water and he was laughing about her reaction to his 
practical joke.

"You scared the shit out of me. Don't ever do that again." She 
angrily commanded, her voice rising in volume as she berated him 
for his childish antic.

He responded by diving underwater, leaving a small wake that 
showed he was coming back at her underwater. She barely realized 
his plans when his strong hands grabbed her again, pulling her 
back underwater. She tried to kick away from him but his strong 
hands pulled her naked body quickly underwater as his hands 
worked up her struggling naked body until his arms were around 
her neck, and his massive thighs wrapped around her struggling 
legs, holding her prisoner against his almost naked body. She felt 
his naked erection under the loincloth pressing against her naked 
belly as his embrace forced her against his larger body. He pulled 
her tight to him so that his obvious erection was mashed between 
her thighs and her breasts were flattened against his tickling chest 
hair. Angered at his unexpected mild molesting, she tried to hit him 
under the water but he grabbed both of her wrists and held both 
wrist in one large hand as he used his other hand to guide her lips 
to his lips for a quick underwater touch before he let go of her and 
swam away.

She surfaced, gasping for breath and amazed at his unexpected 
audacity. She angrily waited for him to surface, only to discover 
that there was no sign of him. Just as he had unexpectedly 
appeared out of nowhere, he had also disappeared with the same 
ease. For thirty - forty seconds, she stared at the water, waiting for 
him to surface so that she could use some of the sailor language 
that she'd reserved for moments like this. She began to wonder if 
he was going to surface when another thirty seconds went by. Then 
she began to wonder if something happened to him under water. 
Her anger quickly turned to concern as she worried about him. 
After all, it had only been a boyish prank that he played on her - 
the same prank that her childhood friend Jack had played on her 
when she was a very na‹ve sixteen year old virgin. Then she saw 
Tarzan's head break the surface almost two hundred yards away at 
the little sandbar where she'd left her clothes. Her remaining anger 
changed to amazement as she thought about how far he'd just 
swam underwater with only one lungfull of air. 

She watched him as he strode majestically out of the water and 
turned to face her, revealing the unmistakable outline of a very 
hard erection under his wet loincloth. He waved a quick wave and 
walked into the jungle, leaving her feeling very confused as she 
treaded the water.

******

The wild boar knew that Jane was hunting it and managed to stay 
just out of her limited spear-toss range. As Jane sneaked closer to 
the wild pig, it would watch her as it rooted among the wild scrubs, 
then take off running for a hundred or two hundred feet before it 
would stop and graze again, keeping a close eye on the young 
woman that hunted it with just a spear. She was feeling frustrated 
because she'd been tracking this particular boar for over two hours 
and wasn't any closer to it now than when she started tracking the 
dangerous animal.

A small branch landed at her feet as she contemplated charging the 
wild boar, trying to get within spear range before it could bolt and 
run away. Another small branch landed very close to her, causing 
her to stop and look up into the giant trees that surrounded her. 
Standing on a tree branch about ninety feet above her above her 
was Tarzan. 

Satisfied that he had her attention, he winked at her then dived off 
his high branch toward a hanging vine. His falling weight broke the 
vine loose so that the vine began swinging away from the tree. Like 
an circus acrobat, he let go of that vine as he fell toward another 
vine, grabbing that vine and swinging in a long arc before releasing 
the vine to fall toward a third vine. This last vine's arc put Tarzan 
ten feet above the unsuspecting wild boar. Dropping from the vine 
onto the boar's back, Tarzan's knife flashed as he sunk his blade 
into the pig.

The pig jerked and snorted as it fell over dead. Standing above the 
dying pig, Tarzan raised his head to the sky and arched his chest 
as if he was getting ready to release a battle cry. He paused for a 
moment before turning to face Jane, a wild look in his eyes as if he 
had just vanquished a foe. Then that look disappeared as he called 
out to the young female hunter "You make so much noise that I'm 
surprised that you got as close as you did. Come help me prepare a 
litter to drag this food back to the village."

She stepped forward until she was less than ten feet from Tarzan as 
he cleaned the blood from his knife on the dead pig. "How did you 
learn to swing through the jungle like that?"

"When I was a small boy, I fell out of a tree one day and realized 
that the fall hurt. I watched the monkeys swing through the trees 
so I climbed back up and fell again, only this time catching a vine 
as I fell. From that simple practice, it became easy."

"How long have you been following me?" she asked, her face trying 
to hide a smile as she noticed a small indication behind his loin 
cloth that could only be caused by a mild erection.

"Follow you! No, Tarzan has better things to do. I was hunting and 
just happen to come across your trail." He replied as he used his 
knife to hack some small vines to use to build the litter.

"In this big jungle, you just happen to swim underneath me and 
later to be in the tree above me? Does hunting give you an 
erection?"

He looked down at his loin cloth which was revealing his arousal. 
He responded with "I'll be honest with you. I don't hunt because of 
enjoyment. I hunt because I'm hungry. As for my obvious erection, 
both of us know that you're the reason for my erection. The jungle 
is full of tall dark-skinned women with nice bodies but your relative 
white and small very proportional pixyish body stands out from the 
other women. I was already down at the river when you came down 
the trail. Like a pervert, I hid in the bushes and watched you 
undress. Your totally naked body was much nicer than I thought it 
would be. At first, I was only curious about your body, but I felt my 
erection start growing when I clearly saw your breasts. You have 
very nice nipples. Most jungle women have dark nipples, but your 
nipples are so pink and puffy that they look virginal. I slipped into 
the water behind you, grabbing a reed so that I could get some 
breaths underwater without you seeing me. I followed you, 
swimming under you and looking at you as you swam. That's why 
I'm horny."

"Your honesty won't get you anywhere with me. You had your 
chance with Laywan last night. You should've gotten some from 
her while you could."

"I'm very particular about who I climb in bed with. I like Laywan 
but I won't get into bed with just anyone simply because they want 
me. I had a friend one time who told me that she liked to save 
herself for that special someone and that's also how I feel about 
sex. It has to be with someone that I like and respect. I knew she 
wanted me last night but I didn't feel the same way about her and 
tried to politely turn her down. I've decided that you're the woman 
that I want to sleep with."

A slightly bemused Jane responded "Good, because I feel the same 
way. So you'll understand when I tell you to stay away from me." 

Before he could answer her dismissal, Jane pointed at the dead pig 
as she softly suggested "You killed it, you carry it back. I'm going 
to go find Laywan and hunt with her."

******

Jane and Laywan were pulling the litter full of freshly-killed deer 
meat into the village when an Amazon Warrior Woman came 
running to meet them. The Warrior looked at Jane, then spoke in 
the native dialect to Laywan as if there was something that should 
be kept private from the young white woman. Laywan listened to 
the woman then said in English "Our of our new captives has 
disappeared - the man called Brad. We've added additional guards 
at the rope bridge. He won't escape."

"What will you do when you find him?"

"We'll listen to him at a tribal hearing, then we'll kill him. It's his 
second mistake and clearly shows that he has no regard for our 
customs."

******

There was plenty of fresh meat that night. The chiefs sat together, 
with the honored guest, Tarzan, sitting beside Laywan; while Jane 
sat with the other Amazon Warrior Women. 

All day long, Jane had thought about Tarzan and about what he 
had told her. She had thought about his nice body and had caught 
herself daydreaming a couple of times about making love with him. 
The more that she thought about him, the more that she regretted 
her hasty decision earlier. After all, this was the jungle and things 
were done differently than in good old England. Here it was 
acceptable to sleep with someone because you like them. And she 
did like him. And his words and erection proved that he liked her 
also.

Jane kept looking up, hoping to find that Tarzan and Laywan were 
talking quietly the way that lovers talk in public. Instead she 
discovered that Tarzan was watching her. Watching her so much 
that she became embarrassed and left the dinner early, returning to 
her hut even though she knew that Nasroi would be late tonight. As 
the official scribe, he had to stay with the chiefs until they turned 
in tonight.

As she entered the hut, the hairs raising on the back of her neck 
warned her that there was someone else in her hut. She grabbed 
her knife as she immediately though about Brad and his obsession 
with her. In the dim light, she could only see the outline of the man 
but the faint glimmer of his golden eyes told her that it wasn't 
Brad, but Tarzan.

Still holding the shaft of her knife, she whispered loudly "What are 
you doing here?"

"I came to this village to visit old friends and found you - a white 
woman who's cast away her civilization and adopted the life of the 
savages. A woman who reminded me a lot of myself. Ever since I 
saw you standing by the fireside behind Laywan, your body 
glistening with sweat from your long run, I've been drawn to you. I 
watched you from the riverbank and saw your perfect body as you 
undressed. I swam under you without you realizing it and watched 
you as you glided through the water. I felt myself pulled to you as if 
we were magnets and I had to touch you. So I played a little grab-
ass in the water to see how you reacted to my presence. Then I 
followed you when you went hunting. I didn't kill that pig for the 
tribe's dinner. I killed it as a gift for you. I want you to be my 
mate."

Jane eased her knife back into its sheath, still holding the handle 
as she listened to his soft words. With difficulty she said "I'm no 
longer in control of my destiny. The tribe has decreed that I must 
bear children for them and cannot take a mate until I have borne at 
least five children. You should select Laywan."

"If I'd wanted Laywan, I would've taken her when I was here the 
last time. It's you that I want. The council can release you from 
your obligation."

Jane stepped forward, her feet moving against her will as she 
replied "I'm Nasroi's woman this month."

"Nasroi won't fight me for you."

She felt her hands unbuckle her knife belt and heard her belt fall to 
the floor as she continued her slow march across the five feet to 
where he was standing in the dark. She saw him step forward, his 
huge body seeming like a giant after being with the smaller Thrudd 
men. She smelled his strong animal smell as they stood inches 
from each other. She raised her lips as she tilted her head back and 
stood on her tiptoes, waiting for his lips.

******

A very happy Jane was lying half-asleep on Tarzan's arm as he 
slept the exhausted sleep of the worn-out lover. Her naked body 
was still all warm, glowing and tingling from their almost all-night 
long sex and she was fighting the strong urge to sleep and relax. 
She wanted to remember this delightful night, to lock into her 
memory the wonderful feelings that he had aroused within her. She 
thought that Mogu had been a great physical lover and that Nasroi 
had been a great technical lover, using his skills to keep her 
aroused. Both men's bedroom skills were nothing when compared 
to Tarzan's ability to please her. There was as much difference as 
day and night in the three men. Tarzan combined both gentleness 
with rough, pure physical force as he propelled her through ecstasy 
after ecstasy. 

She hadn't intended to jump in bed with him, but when she 
discovered him in her hut, she felt the same strong magnetic 
attraction for him that he professed to have for her. Their bodies 
had merged, becoming as one body as their individual sex organs 
took control of their bodies and their minds, turning them into 
insatiable animals.

The first rays of morning sunlight shook Jane from her dreamy 
mood as she realized that they had made love all night long and 
now it was morning. Easing up from beside Tarzan's sleeping 
naked body, she gathered her clothes and slipped out of her hut to 
go to the river to clean her body. She hurried through the still 
sleeping village because she wanted to clean herself and then find 
Laywan. So Jane was very surprised when she reached her favorite 
sandbar and discovered Laywan waiting on her.

Before an embarrassed Jane could say anything, Laywan said 
"Your cries of joy were very loud last night. Everyone nearby was 
aware that you had taken a new lover and guessed who it was. 
Before Nasroi could finish his duties and return to your hut, he'd 
already been warned that he'd been replaced. Based upon the facts 
as we knew them last night, the council voted to release you from 
your child-bearing commitment. If our good friend Tarzan desires 
you as a mate, you are free to become his woman. When he is ready 
to leave our village, you are free to go with him. The council asked 
me to tell you of their decision. I'm here to show you that I wish 
you luck and bear you no ill will."

******

The next two weeks were the most fantastic two weeks of Jane's 
life. During the night, she was the seductive nymphet, servicing her 
man, using her body as a receptacle for his raging male hormones 
as they brought mutual joy to each other. During the day, she was 
his hunting partner as they prowled the woods. Under his expert 
tutelage, she learned how to climb the giant trees and to use the 
trees to traverse the forest as they hunted the animals that were 
unaware of the overhead hunters. She learned how to swim 
underwater and to spear the fish that they cooked over a slow 
campfire as they made love on the sandy beach in the middle of the 
day.

Anyone who had known the Lady Jane from the parties given by 
her father, wouldn't recognized the darkly tanned semi-naked 
female savage that hunted wild animals with a spear beside her 
darkly tanned semi-naked mate, as being the same woman. Anyone 
that watched them as they made love, wouldn't have recognized 
the woman as being the same Lady whose only knowledge of sex 
came from watching the horses on her father's estate. 

It was the same delicate facial features but the tanned eighteen 
year-old face didn't need makeup to enhance its natural beauty. It 
was the same long dark hair, but instead of being curled in the 
current English style, it was now festooned with fresh flowers and 
pieces of brightly colored fabric woven into its braids. It was the 
same lush, small, youthful female body, but now it was lean from 
months of strenuous exercise and tanned a beautiful bronze color 
from months of exposure to the sun. It was the same delicate hands 
but instead of being used to make quilts, her hands were callused 
from carrying her ever-constant hunting spear. It was the same 
delicate lips, but now her rosy lips were more experienced lips - lips 
that were equally at ease when they were wrapped around her 
man's cock or probing tongue. It was the same breasts but her 
perky breasts were now being used to excite her man rather than 
be hidden behind a flowery dress.

A lot of nights they didn't even bother to go back to the village, 
instead sharing a roaring campfire and soft bed made of boughs 
and leaves that Tarzan built for them in the middle of the jungle. 
They would curl up together and enjoy the feel of each other's 
naked body as they rested on a bed of leaves made by Tarzan for 
his woman. She enjoyed touching his body, feeling his naked body 
rub against her naked body, and most of all, she enjoyed just being 
near him. Tarzan was the man that she wanted to spend the rest of 
her life with. The naked white savage that she snuggled up with, 
was the man that she wanted to marry and to be his wife. He was 
the only man that she wanted to share a bed with and most of all, 
she wanted to bear his children. Tarzan was the man that she had 
ran away from home to find. She had found her dream in this 
remote village and she was the happiest that she'd ever been in her 
short life.

If someone had asked her to describe her life now, she would've 
told them that `It was Eden for her'. She was Eve and he was her 
Adam. But all Eden's have their snakes. And her snake was named 
Brad.

Chapter 4 - Kill the bastard!

They climbed a high cliff and sat on the cliff face watching the 
beautiful sunset as it cast its rapidly moving shadows across the 
valley floors. Then they curled up inside a nearby cave where they 
made slow, delicious love to each other. The type of love that only 
two lovers familiar with each other's body and desires, can share 
with each other.

As they rested in each other's arms after a perfect mutual climax 
together, Tarzan asked an innocent question "Why are you here in 
the savage jungle? After all, you had so much going for you back in 
England - parents that loved you and could afford the best for 
you."

"Just because they loved me, doesn't mean that they treated me 
correctly. My early childhood is filled with so many memories of 
being shushed by my nannies because my parents were 
entertaining dinner guests - important dinner guests, which they 
thought were more important than me. It seems that we never had 
any unimportant dinner guests. It was a big, big house and I could 
go for a couple of days without seeing them as they busied 
themselves with their official host and hostess roles, ignoring the 
little child who just wanted to be near her too-busy parents. Then 
they discovered that I was an emerging pubescent adolescent who 
was beginning to take on the physical shape of a delicate lady - 
abet my delicate shape was more enhanced because of my very 
small body . Suddenly the parents who didn't want anything to do 
with a crying, thumb-sucking kid turned into too-nice parents that 
were competing for the `Parents of the Year' award. By that time in 
my life, I was used to being neglected by them and allowed to run 
free - as free as I could under the sharp eyes of nannies that were 
changed every year. I didn't want to be their little girl who wore 
only dresses and enjoyed my trousers. I couldn't climb trees in a 
dress." She laughed a high pitched laugh as she thought about 
those carefree days.

"You were a tomboy?" Tarzan asked as he touched one of her puffy 
nipples, watching it react to his gentle teasing.

"Yes, I was quite a tomboy as I played in the barn, climbing the 
rafters, riding the horses bareback, sneaking into the river for a 
quick swim with my friends. I had my special childhood friends who 
treated me as one of them and then suddenly, I was the young lady 
of the house, who had to learn how to serve tea and crumpets; and 
also was expected to give up my friends for important people that 
my parents only knew through the countless parties that they gave 
for the social crowd. I was expected to dress in fancy silks and 
hoops and my favorite trousers were destroyed. My hair was curled 
and I was forbidden to wear my newly-curled hair tucked up into 
an over-sized hat anymore. I didn't mind the physical transition 
from girlhood to womanhood, but I didn't like my parents 
impression of what womanhood meant. Where I was forbidden to 
attend their parties before; now I was pushed into the center floor, 
dressed like a young princess and expected to fulfill the social 
obligations that I didn't want." She arched her back and shifted 
her position slightly within his arms so that her nipple was closer 
to his face - so close that it was a clear invitation that she wanted 
him to suck on it.

"That may sound bad to you, but to someone like myself who has 
never had a home or any place to call my own, that sounds good." 
Replied Tarzan as he though about the differences between their 
childhood lives and stared at the tender flesh around her perfect 
nipple. 

A smirk formed on Jane's face as she thought about the differences 
between their lives before answering "Yeah, I had it good, but I 
didn't want it good. I didn't run away from my home because I 
hated my parents, rather I did it because I wanted to live my own 
life as I chose to live it. I wanted the opportunity to be able to chase 
the wind, to soar like a hunting hawk on the prowl for its evening 
meal, to run like a wild horse across the burning beach sand and 
most of all -to be me. I discovered that I enjoyed the thrill of the 
kill, the freedom of going naked, the freedom to choose between 
lying on a rock naked or swimming in a river fraught with danger. 
My father made me feel like a teeny-weeny little girl because of the 
way that I was expected to dress and act. Out here, I feel that I'm 
the King and can do anything that I desire. You know that I've 
always hated my small size and wished that I was bigger. My ideal 
body size would be to be as big as Laywan - or even bigger. I don't 
want to be as big as Mary Beth because she's too damn big and 
there's nothing proportional about her. I know that I can never be 
bigger than I am now, but I feel bigger because I can almost keep 
up with those long-legged Amazons Warrior cunts. Instead of being 
a young, delicate woman of proper upbringing whose steaks are cut 
up for her by the Butler, I'm a warrior who hunts my own food with 
a spear. I could be myself and know that people liked me for who I 
was - not who my parents were. That's one of the reasons that I 
like it here. And you're the other one." 

She declared as she rolled over slightly and rubbed her nipple 
against his lips which accepted the gift. Her slender leg rolled over 
his massive leg and for several moments, they were silent as his 
lips explored her very familiar and totally delicate feminine breasts. 
Her slender arms wrapped around his head as she enjoyed the 
various sensations that her body was feeling - the wet teasing of his 
soft tongue on her areola, the ticking of his chest hair against her 
belly, the matting of her pubic hair as she mashed her genitalia 
against the sharp bones of his hip and the enjoyable itch that she 
was feeling deep inside her vagina. 

For several moments, they laid like that, then she rolled off of him, 
knowing that she was teasing him, knowing that anticipation was 
something that they both enjoyed as part of their sex. Rolling back 
into her comfortable position where she was using his arm as a 
pillow as she curled up next to him, she resumed the discussion, 
ignoring the more husky sound of her voice as she asked "Why do 
you like me?" 

A teasing smile formed on his face as he thought about her 
question before honestly replying "I don't like you. I like Laywan. 
My feelings for you are stronger than just pure like. Ever since that 
first time that I saw you, I knew that you're someone special. I 
remember seeing you that first time as you and the old man sat 
around the campfire. I remember thinking that you had to have 
balls to be way out in the jungle when you could have been home 
safe in your bed. Then when I saw you that first day that I came 
back to the village, you really stood out among all those women. 
There were all these semi-clad tall, broad-shouldered women 
standing around me, but you were the only one that attracted me. I 
think part of my attraction for you, was because of your small size. 
I knew that you weren't as big or as strong as the other women, 
but I also knew that you were more deadlier. I knew that you were 
working harder to do the things that they found so easy because of 
their natural large size. I knew that you were having to work harder 
also because you had been born with a silver spoon in your mouth 
yet these ferocious women accepted you as one of them. You may 
be small, but I think that's what made you so tough. And it's also 
part of the reason why I fell in love with you."

She grinned and kissed him as she whispered "And I thought it was 
because I had the best pussy that you ever had. Stupid me. Why do 
you like small women? Would you like me if I was normal size?"
 
Tarzan sensed that he was about to tread dangerous water, rolled 
over on his side and let one of his fingers trace a slow path down 
her belly toward her dark pubic mound as he replied "You are 
rather small. I think that's what attracted me to you at first until I 
got the opportunity to know you. Your white skin and small size 
really stood out among those dark-skinned long-legged women. As 
for being bigger, I'm very happy with you being the way that you 
are."

"I know and I'm sorry that I keep harping on it but it's something 
that bothers me. Everyday I think about the height difference and 
wish that I was more like them. Everyone has something about 
themselves that they don't like. I used to talk with Mary Beth and 
tell her that I wanted to be big and strong and she would laugh and 
tell me how she wanted to be small and petite like me. I want to 
have legs that can stretch wide and leap tall boulders. I want the 
longer arm reach when I'm climbing cliffs. I get tired of looking up 
at my friend's faces. I see you standing on the tree limb and I think 
how perfect you are. You have such long, strong legs that can carry 
you for hours. You have the muscular chest that allows you to 
catch vines and swing across the jungle tree tops. I envy your 
muscular development and general body build. I envy the freedom 
that you've always enjoyed, roaming the jungle as you please, no 
home to tie you down, no parents to force you to hold your thumb 
up when you're drinking tea. I don't even like tea yet I was forced 
to drink it every day `because proper young ladies are expected to 
entertain their male guests at the 4pm tea'. I don't think that I 
could ever go back to that type of life again."

A sad look appeared on his face as he considered his response "The 
grass is always greener on the other side of the fence. You think 
that it would be great to grow up as an orphan of the jungle. Well, I 
didn't think it was so great. My missionary parents died in a 
plague when I was young and the tribe let me stay in the village as 
if I was one of their many orphans. I slept where ever I could find 
shelter for the night, fought with the wild dogs for scraps of food 
from the trash and wore cast-off pieces of clothing. Because I was 
white and they were black, I was treated as an outcast by almost 
everyone. When I was a young man, full of vim and vigor, the village 
girls treated me as if I was an leper because my cock was so small 
compared to my black friends. I had sex with a few prostitutes who 
taught me how to use what I had. Later when I was ready to take a 
wife, I had no family possessions to use as a dowry. I saw the 
woman of my choice - a beautiful, ebony girl with perky little 
breasts who I watched transition from childhood to womanhood - 
given away to a friend of mine, whose father could afford the three 
cow's asking price. I left the village intending to seek my fortune 
and became a wanderlust, traveling through the jungle, living here, 
living there, having no place of my own to call home. I became the 
man that you see before you now - a person that isn't afraid of 
anything because I've face danger so many times a day just as part 
of my normal life. A person that would do whatever was needed to 
survive. Yep, I'm a survivor. Throw me into a pit of alligators and 
I'll survive somehow. I may lose an arm or leg, but I'll come out of 
the pit not worrying about my loss because that's the type of 
person that I am. You complain about your parent's treatment of 
you. At least you had parents. I wish sometimes that I had a home 
that I could back to. I would give up the jungle, my freedom, just to 
have someone that cared for me."

"Is there anyone that you would've swapped places with if you 
could've?"

"Yes and no. My father was much older than my mother and had 
been married before, with a son who about sixteen years older than 
me. When my Dad and Mom came to the jungle, they left him with 
one of Dad's sisters but brought me so that I could see some of the 
world. So after they died, while I was fighting over scraps of food, I 
imagined that he was eating at a fancy restaurant. I used to go to 
sleep at night under someone's hut, staying alert while I knew that 
he was safely sleeping in his own bed, in a neighborhood where he 
didn't have to worry about something eating him at night. I envied 
his security, his peace of mind, but it was only a childhood 
fantasy." 

Jane's slight chuckle summed up the overall discussion "It sounds 
as if both of us would have been happy if we could have been born 
each other."

"Yeah, but then, we wouldn't have met each other." Tarzan 
explained as his golden eyes gleamed in the dim light. Jane's hand 
drifted down his naked belly, discovering that his manhood was 
primed and waiting for her.

Her soft hand wrapped around his erection as her lips nibbled on 
his neck. He arched his back slightly and turned his head so that 
she could get to his neck. She turned over, pulling his arm around 
her waist as she backed up so that she fit into the forward curve of 
his body. He placed his erection so that it rested between her 
thighs, the tip of it sticking out just below her pubic hair. As she 
gently rubbed the tip of his engorged cockhead against her itching 
pussy, she asked in a very husky voice "Tell me what you like 
about my body!"

"Hummm. That's blackmail at this particular moment." He 
groaned lightly as his hand drifted around her waist, then moved 
up to her breasts and began squeezing her breast.

"Are you a boob or leg man?" she asked as she spit into her hand, 
then used her salvia to coat the tip of his cockhead, feeling it throb 
as the cool wetness of her salvia further increased his desire to take 
her.

Behind her, he shivered with delight from the added sensation 
before he answered "I guess that I'm a boob man."

She squeezed the cockhead "Guess?"

"Yeah, when I saw you that first day in the village, standing there 
with your perky boobs all coated with sweat, all I could think about 
was wrapping my lips around your nipples."

She cooed lightly "so show me."

******

During the night as they slept in each other's exhausted arms, 
Tarzan had been awaken by something - a sixth sense that warned 
him of danger but he had discovered nothing when he stepped out 
to the cliff face and looked into the dark valley below their sleeping 
area. He returned to the warm spot beside the still sleeping Jane, 
enjoying the feel of her warm body as she curled up next to him, 
her sleeping fingers searching his body until they found his 
shriveled penis. She cupped his penis with her hand as she slept, 
using his arm as her pillow.

The faint smell of smoke woke Tarzan as the first faint rays of 
sunlight penetrated their cave. He rushed to the cliff's face and saw 
the distant source of the smoke - the village was on fire.

It took them several hours to get down from the cliff and to cross 
the valley. Jane knew that Tarzan could've covered the distance in 
a quarter of the time, but he held back and ran at a pace that she 
could endure for that distance. 

The burning fires were almost out when they entered the village. 
Most of the village was burned to the ground - including Jane's 
hut. There were also several bodies that had been collected and 
stacked in the center of town. A very grim Laywan met them "It was 
the white man - Bart. He wasn't able to leave the valley so he's 
been hiding out and gathering some of the recent captives. They 
sneaked into the village during the middle of the night, burst into 
the armory and armed themselves with guns. Then they went on a 
burning and killing spree, killing two of our elder chiefs. They're 
out there in the forest somewhere and I'm going to lead our 
warriors to find them."

Tarzan looked at the carnage and stated "I'll help you find them. 
Jane, you stay here."

Reluctantly Jane stayed behind to help the injured and to guard 
the village while most of the Warrior's followed Tarzan and Laywan. 
Throughout the rest of the day, she worked tirelessly to ensure that 
the rest of the fires were out and the injured cared for. As she was 
finishing changing a bandage on a wounded friend, it surprised her 
to look up and see Sir Walter staring at her. 

Only it was a different Sir Walter. The weeks of living as a farmer 
had put some of his weight back on him, but because he was on 
the lowest level of the captive "pecking order" because of his age, 
he'd shared the common sleeping quarters out in the field area 
where Jane usually didn't visit. Immediately upon his arrival in the 
village, he'd picked up a bad case of head lice so his head and 
trademark mustache had been shaven to control the lice. His 
tailored khaki clothes had been destroyed so he wore the common 
wrap-around native clothing that looked like a big diaper. The only 
thing that was still recognizable about him, was his bushy 
eyebrows, which had been spared the shaving. Standing in front of 
her with his new appearance, his eyes were gleaming as if he'd 
gone mad or developed a deep religious enthusiasm.

He leaned over and whispered "I know where they are. Come with 
us and I'll help you get back to England."

She felt her hand going for her knife but resisted the impulse as 
she responded "No, this is my home now."

A cruel look flashed across his face, then his face turned bland 
"Brad has a captive - Nasroi. Bart figured that the town scribe 
would know where the gold was really hidden. He's going to kill 
your former lover unless you guide us through the valley. I suggest 
that you come with me"

Somewhat stunned by Sir Walter's cruel remarks, she followed him 
out of the village because it was true that Nasroi was missing. She 
followed him across the farming fields to the nearby cliffs, and then 
along the cliffs to the mine entrance. Just inside the mine's 
entrance, she saw the evidence that her former friend's story was 
true. Two dead warriors were lying just inside the entrance, their 
throats cut when they had entered the mine to search for the 
criminals. A somewhat gloating Bart was sitting beside a chest filled 
with gold. Lying tied on the ground was a naked Nasroi.

Bart mumbled around the cigar sticking out of his mouth, the scar 
still vivid on his face where Jane had cut him with her knife "We 
owe a lot to your former boyfriend. Not only did he know where the 
gold was stored in here, but he also knew where these fine cigars 
were hid. Don't know which pleasures me more - the gold or the 
good cigar."

******

Jane was stripped naked by Bart's henchmen. She allowed them to 
do it because Bart held a knife to Nasroi's throat and threatened to 
kill him if she resisted. 

They led the naked Jane and Nasroi down a winding series of shafts 
following a string for about ten minutes that someone had strung 
so that they could consistently follow the correct trail. At the end of 
the winding shaft, there was a recently busted door that led into a 
small tunnel. The small tunnel led to a small circular room dug out 
of the rock. Within the circular room, there was three adjacent 
small wooden cells next to a much larger cell with metal bars. The 
doors to each cell was standing open.

Jane was placed in the wooden cell next to the larger cell and 
Nasroi was placed in the wooden cell adjacent to Jane's cell. Then 
they were left alone as the outlaws returned to the surface.

"What is this place?" asked Jane as she shook the wooden boards 
that kept her prisoner.

"It's the sacred treasure depository. We kept the gold in the metal 
cell next to you. These smaller areas are work areas where the 
craftsmen made the gold into jewelry. You can see their tools 
scattered about the floor where they ransacked even these rooms to 
collect the gold."

"So the gold mine was worked out? What else did you lie to me 
about?"

Nasroi sat down on the floor, his head buried between his legs in 
abject defeat. While he cringed in self-pity, Jane kept working on 
the wooden boards that formed her cell, trying to break out of her 
confinement. She could see that it wasn't ever intended to be a cell, 
but just a storage area that would offer a little resistance to anyone 
trying to get in. It was open like a cell so that air and light could 
flow through the small cells.

******

Two hours later, Jane hadn't made any headway although there 
was one board that was slightly loose. But her light weight and 
relative feeble strength wasn't powerful enough to completely break 
it loose. She knew that Tarzan could've done it in just a few 
minutes but she was wore out and bruised from the repeated body 
slams against the board. Then she heard the voices coming down 
the tunnel.

She stopped and stared at the mine opening, waiting as if she had 
been behaving herself. She was startled to see a naked Tarzan step 
into the room, then she saw that his arms were tied behind his 
back and he was closely followed by Brad and by some of his men. 
They shoved Tarzan into the metal cell, pushing him to the floor 
and tied a rope around his feet. Satisfied with their restraining, 
they shut the metal door with a loud clank as they locked him into 
the most secure cell. As soon as his captors shut the door, she 
stuck her arms through the bars to him. He scooted across the 
floor until she could reach his back. 

She started to untied him, as he explained "They came to me with 
your clothes which I recognized. They said that they would kill you 
unless I accompanied them."

Brad looked up from the bag of gold that he was examining. With a 
growl, he charged the cell yelling "Get away from her, you fucking 
savage. She belongs to me now!"

Brad pushed the key back into the metal door and jerked the door 
open. He charged Tarzan as Tarzan tried to get to his feet and tried 
to get out of the way. Brad's fist knocked Tarzan down and as 
Tarzan rolled, he twisted and kicked at Brad with his tied feet. Brad 
easily dodged the feet and swung his pistol barrel at Tarzan's head, 
connecting just above the ear. Tarzan's head jerked from the force 
of the blow and then his whole body went limp. Brad grabbed the 
barrel of his pistol, holding it like a hammer and began hitting 
Tarzan repeatedly on the head with the butt of the gun. Jane was 
screaming at the top of her voice and neither she nor Brad noticed 
the new arrival in the cave.

Brad was still swinging his pistol at Tarzan's bleeding head when 
the new arrival hit Brad in the back with the flat blade of a shovel, 
knocking the wind out of Brad as he fell to the floor. Sir Walter 
glanced at Brad, then examined the unconscious Tarzan as he 
mumbled "You're about to kill our only ticket out of here. Without 
Tarzan, we have to leave this damn valley through the waterfall. 
He's the only one that can escort us out of the valley and through 
the Momgua territory."

The old man pulled Tarzan's unconscious body up, propping it 
against the bars so that Jane could examine the bloody head 
wounds from Brad's pistol. For a second a very terrified Jane 
paused in her examination and whispered to her former friend 
"Please help us."

Sir Walter looked at Brad who was trying to get to his feet before 
replying "I'll do what I can to help you. I'll make sure that you get 
out of this valley and back to England where you belong."

"BUT I DON'T WANT TO GO!" she cried loudly as she put her arms 
through the cell, around the neck of the unconscious man that she 
loved. 

Brad stumbled to his feet, his angry eyes glaring at the older man. 
Sir Walter picked his shovel back up and kept a little distance 
between him and Brad. Staring at a very angry Brad in the eye, the 
older man declared "Remember our deal? I help you get the gold 
and you help me get out. All I want is one small bag of gold and 
Jane. You get everything else. We can't do it if you kill our ticket 
out of the Momgua Territory."

******

The two outlaws quickly agreed to work together toward their 
mutual goal - escaping with the gold. Two hours after Brad and Sir 
Walter left the cave to do whatever, a very hurt Tarzan was still 
unconscious. The bleeding had stopped but that was the only 
favorable medical sign. The still naked Jane had spent the whole 
time with her arms through the bars holding him up and trying to 
revive him. Finally Nasroi asked "Jane, are you willing to take any 
risk to get out of here?"

She turned her head slightly to stare at Nasroi, her eyes puffy from 
the almost constant crying. She gasped "He's got a concussion and 
needs medical help. Yes, what can we do?"

Nasroi dropped to his knees and made a motion that Jane had seen 
some of the villagers do as part of their prayers. He didn't say a 
word until he repeated his religious ritual twice, then he asked "Do 
you remember the tale of the Chalice - the story that you thought 
was a fairy tale? It really exists and it's hidden here in this cave 
where we can get to it."

"I don't give a fuck about any ancient crockery. I want a weapon, 
something that I can use to force my door open."

"While you've been worrying about your man, I've been thinking 
about what it's going to take to get out of here. Brad will probably 
kill the old man if he hasn't killed him already, so there's not 
much keeping him from beating us up the way that he manhandled 
Tarzan. I don't want to be here when he comes back and we've got 
to find a way out. That's why we need to use the Chalice. Neither 
you nor I have the physical strength to break down our wooden 
cages but Tarzan does. If they had put him in one of our cells, his 
superior strength would already have busted us out of here. I know 
where the Chalice is hidden and we can use its ancient powers to 
swap your body with Tarzan's body."

A puzzled look formed on Jane's face "I don't understand."

Nasroi leaped to his feet and shoved his face through the bars as he 
explained "If you hold the Chalice against his lips and touch your 
lips to it at the same time, you'll start the transfer. Within thirty 
seconds, you'll fall asleep and your body will start changing. In an 
hour, you'll wake up with his body and he'll have your body. With 
his strength, you'll be able to break out of your cell and free both of 
us."

"But I'd be stuck in his body. Can we switch back?"

"Yeah, but you have to wait at least two or three weeks before you 
attempt it. The Chalice is hid in your cell. We didn't put it with the 
gold because we didn't want anyone to find it. Move that box and 
pick up the flagstone."

For a minute Jane just stared at Nasroi, then she moved as if she 
had made a momentous decision. In less than two minutes, she 
pried up the flagstone and pulled an oil-rag wrapped package out of 
the hole. She unraveled the package and stared at an old, childish 
shaped piece of pottery that was roughly shaped like a glass. She 
held it up, declaring "This crumbling piece of clay is your wonderful 
Chalice?"

"Yeah, now get down on your knees, stick the chalice through the 
bars and touch it to his lips, then try to stick your head through 
the bars far enough to touch your lips to it also. Then pull back and 
set the Chalice down because you must make sure the Chalice is 
safe before you fall asleep."

She did as he instructed, not knowing if it would work or not; only 
that they had to try something. She adjusted Tarzan's head so it 
was propped up by the bars and slid the Chalice through the bars. 
Then she positioned her head barely through the bars and guided 
the Chalice so that it touched Tarzan's lips, then touched her lips 
at the same time. She felt a slight burn on her lips and felt the burn 
spread through her body. She quickly pulled the Chalice back and 
worked her head back through the bars. She felt very dizzy as she 
sat the Chalice down as she leaned against the bar. As she stared 
at Nasroi, she felt her eyes glazing over and felt very light-headed. 
She fought against the dizziness as she tried to hold her very heavy 
head up so that she could stare at the very fuzzy image of Nasroi in 
his adjoining cell.

******

"Wake up!!" yelled Nasroi.

Jane slowly opened her eyes which were very heavy and plastered 
as if she'd been asleep for a long time. As she tried to shake off the 
un-normal sleepy feeling, she opened her eyes to see Nasroi's 
beaming face in the next cell as he yelled at her "It worked. Now get 
us out of here."

Still shaking off the letharginess of the sleep as she tried to figure 
out what her former lover was talking about, Jane looked down at 
her body - only to discover that her body that she was looking at, 
wasn't her normal naked female body. Her completely naked body 
that she was staring at, was Tarzan's much larger male body - only 
it was now her body. 

There was his familiar shriveled cock between his massive thighs 
but she was looking down at the area that was between her new 
muscular legs - the area that had always been her vagina. Instead 
of two mounds of jiggling boobs, there was a wide muscular chest 
covered with a thin layer of dark curly chest hair. The two most 
distinguishing female body parts of her body had been replaced 
with the corresponding male body parts. Her body obviously wasn't 
a woman's body any more.

Shaking her head as if the simple motion would restore her sanity, 
she caught a glimpse of something just beyond her peripheral 
vision. Turning her head slowly to stare into the adjoining cell 
where she had last seen the unconscious Tarzan before she fell into 
her mysterious sleep, she now saw the naked body of an 
unconscious woman all slumped over so that Jane couldn't see the 
woman's face. She knew it was her real body, all slumped over, but 
she had to verify it. Jane's simple motion to reach through the 
cell's bars caused another shocking realization as she saw 
mannish, thick fingers reaching out from her body to touch the 
unconscious woman's face.

She knew it would be her face that she would see but she hoped 
that somehow the face wouldn't be her face - that it would be just 
a dream. But when her large fingers lifted the small, delicate face, 
she knew that it wasn't a dream. It was clearly her face but from a 
perspective that she'd never seen before. It would be easy to 
pretend that she was looking into a mirror but she'd never seen 
her face with both of her eyes shut before. And the slack jawline 
and slightly droopy lips covered with drool gave her face a ghastly, 
almost dead appearance, which caused her to jerk and pull her arm 
back through the bars. 

The unconscious body in the next cell was her female body, but her 
long, dark hair was matted with blood - just as Tarzan's hair had 
been matted with his blood. She knew that anyone walking into the 
cave now would clearly recognize the unconscious female in the 
large cell as being Jane and the confused male staring at his own 
body as being Tarzan.

She reached through the cell bars again, seeing his large hand and 
strong muscular arm lead back to where his body blurred into her 
upper body. She watched his hand move toward the unconscious 
body in the next cell, knowing that it was now her hand but still 
feeling confused as she tried to accept the transformation. She 
touched the other person's face again - the face that she'd been 
born with, feeling the soft cheek - the soft cheek of her former body. 
She tilted the unconscious body's head back, observing the nostrils 
feeling relieved when she saw that the slightly flared as the 
unconscious body breathed. She gently lifted one of her former 
eyelids, staring into a glazed-over unseeing pupil. The person that 
was really Tarzan was still alive and seriously hurt.

Jane let her gaze drift down the slumped-over unconscious body, 
feeling strange as she moved but her former body didn't move. It 
wasn't a mirror that she was looking at but a separate body and 
that was why she still felt so confused. It wasn't her reflected image 
that she was staring at. Satisfied that Tarzan was still alive, she 
realized that she had to get them out of there. 

Jumping to her feet, she looked at her new arms, immediately 
recognizing the longer, bigger arms as being Tarzan's arms. 
Looking down at her relatively flat, muscular chest, she couldn't 
hold back the smile as she gazed at the massive series of muscles 
on her new wide chest which seemed so unreal after years of 
looking at her female breasts on her narrow chest. The small male 
nipples on her chest were almost hidden by the mass of soft curly 
hair that covered her hard chest muscles. She tensed her arm 
muscles, watching the muscles harden as she flexed the various 
muscles. She stared down at the relatively flat muscled chest 
covered with the thin layer of black hair that she had played with 
so many times as they made love.

Then she stared at the naked, shrunken penis that was normally 
hidden behind Tarzan's loincloth, except when they were making 
love. Her lover's naked body looked funny from her new perspective 
as she stared at the small delicate pee spout between her legs that 
could grow so big and hard when Tarzan was aroused. The end of 
his penis was covered with the thin foreskin, hiding the cockhead 
which she had spent so many wonderful hours with it inserted into 
one of her orifices - and now it was part of her. She stared at the 
small sac behind the dangling penis, wondering how to keep that 
delicate bag from rubbing against her new legs.

Her mind drifted from her current emergency as she thought about 
what it would be like to explore her new body - to use her new cock 
to make love. She felt a little thrill as she knew that it was 
something that she could use to penetrate her lover's body with - 
something that she could use to experience the thrill of love but 
from a man's unique perspective. As she stared at it and thought 
about the mysterious way that it grew bigger when excited, she 
began to feel a little movement from the stared-out male body part 
as it shifted by itself - like some mysteriously alive snake. 

She was startled from her review of her new body by Nasroi's 
repeated reminder "Get us out of here."

She felt drawn to explore her new body, but she knew that Nasroi 
was right. She had to ignore the mysterious excitement of being 
thrust into a large and virile man's hard body, instead directing 
her attention on getting them out of their prisons. She stepped 
forward, noticing that the room seemed much smaller now that she 
had a bigger body. She grabbed one of the boards and pulled, 
immediately sensing the much greater strength within her new 
male body. She tugged on the board and saw it move slightly but 
not as much as she needed. Nasroi suggested "Pull on it again, but 
use your feet to push against the other boards as you pull on that 
one."

Propping one of her large callused feet on the board, she began 
using a powerful combination of leg muscles, back muscles and 
arm muscles, as she tugged on the wooden board, feeling the thick 
board's nails give slightly more from her new body's much greater 
strength. That light give by the board excited her so she somehow 
found some hidden reserve strength and was rewarded by the 
sound of popping nails as the wooden board pulled loose from the 
other boards and away from the wall. She stuck the end of the 
board into the hole that she just created and used the leverage of 
the board to quickly pop another board away from the cell's 
support beams. That created a large enough hole so that she could 
ease her much larger male body out of the cell into the freedom of 
the cave. Two minutes later after finding the keys, she had Nasroi 
out of his cell, then opened up Tarzan's cell and examined 
Tarzan's still unconscious female body while Nasroi re-hid the 
Chalice.

It was a strange feeling to stare at her former female body which 
now looked so small and delicate from her larger male body's new 
perspective. Her former face was the most difficult thing to examine 
because it didn't still seem real to see her face on someone else's 
body.

She examined the blood-matted wounds on the head on her former 
body, carefully discovering that the bloody wounds had disappeared 
from the female body - probably as a result of the body exchange. 
Picking up her former unconscious body as easily as if it were a 
baby, she carried the injured woman's body out of the cell. 

Nasroi had finished hiding the chalice and suggested "They've 
probably got guards at the entrance. Why don't we hide in one of 
the other tunnels?"

Jane grunted in Tarzan's baritone voice "Lead the way."

She easily carried her relatively small and light real body through 
the dark tunnels following Nasroi, until he guided them into a small 
tunnel. Her real body seemed like a child's body because of it's 
relative smallness and light weight. She hadn't realized how small 
she really was until she looked at herself from this different and 
more normal perspective.

The tunnel cumulated into a cavern that had some beds that were 
frequently used by mine workers. Jane placed her former body 
gently on one of the bed then turned to ask Nasroi in Tarzan's deep 
voice "Can you lead me to the entrance and then return here to 
guard Tarzan?"

"We need to stay here. They'll discover that we're missing sooner 
or later and they'll come looking for us. If we leave, they might 
capture us again."

Jane stood up straight, feeling the stronger and very thrilling power 
of her new body, feeling the greater height difference between this 
large muscular body and her real small female body, feeling the 
muscles ripple as she moved. She responded to the man who had 
been her former lover, hearing a hint of anger in her new deep voice 
"Not if I get to the bastards first. Show me how to get out of here 
and I'll kick their ass."

"What do you think that you can do? You're only one person 
against twenty and they're armed. Tarzan might have been able to 
take care of them, but you're not Tarzan. Don't forget who you 
really are!"

"What can I do? It's simple. I can kill the bastard and end this once 
and for all. As for who I am, I'm the person thats going to kill Brad, 
regardless of whose body I'm in."

Chapter 5 - The Waterfall 

Nasroi relutanly guided her back to the string that defined the path 
back to the surface, then he returned to guard the hurt `Tarzan' 
while the new `Tarzan' rapidly proceeded back up the mine shafts 
toward the surface opening. It was a steep upward path but she 
was amazed at how easily her new body covered the distance with 
minimal exertion. Her longer legs could step further and didn't tire 
as easily.

Approaching the mine entrance, she could hear the outlaw guards 
posted at the entrance as they loudly talked. She slowed down and 
crept forward until she saw them sitting in the entrance. There 
were four of them sitting in a circle as they played a dice game, 
using some of the stolen gold as their bets. Their weapons were 
stacked against the wall, far enough away so that she could 
consider them unarmed. The new `Tarzan' tiptoed forward until 
she was between them and their weapons, glad that their attention 
was focused on their gambling. Stepping forward quickly toward 
the unaware men, she swung a closed fist at the nearest man's 
forehead, feeling a soft thud as her harder fist connected with his 
hard head. The man's head jerked from the force of the impact 
then he collapsed to the ground

The man immediately to the struck man's right side, looked up 
from his dice, his mouth gapping open with amazement from the 
unexpected attack, which Jane used to her advantage. Still using 
the surprise and momentum of her sudden attack, she swung her 
other fist like a hammer at this man's nose, hearing him scream 
loudly as her rock hard fist connected with the soft flesh of his face. 
As the second man's head bounced back from the impact, one of 
the men sitting across from the two downed men managed to get to 
his feet and leaped at the person that the outlaw guards recognized 
as Tarzan. She felt the man's heavy weight coming at her and 
threw her arm up, using the strong arm to deflect the mans forward 
motion so that the man missed her and fell on the first 
unconscious man that Jane had attacked.

Stepping back, Jane summed up the current situation - one 
unconscious, one hurt, one temporary on the ground and one man 
scrambling across the mine floor to their stacked weapons. Acting 
instinctively, Jane dived at the running fourth man, knocking him 
down as her heavier male body's forward jump knocked him from 
his feet. Rolling on the ground with him, she quickly rolled over so 
that she was pinning him, then jabbed him with a hard uppercut to 
his jaw. She connected and hurt the man but he managed to get 
his hands around her neck and he was choking her. Locking her 
hands together, she swung her locked hands and broke his hold on 
her neck. She used that moment of respite to grab his head and 
pound his head against the hard floor, hearing him groan as his 
body stiffened then relaxed.

Then the third man's foot connected with her ribs hard enough to 
hurt and to knock the wind from her. Rolling with the kick, she 
rolled over and leaped to her feet as she charged the man like a bull 
moose.  Her head bowed as she rammed her broad shoulder into 
his midsection, picking him up as her forward momentum and her 
Tarzan body's greater strength carried them both to the wall. The 
force of them hitting the wall, knocked this man out also.

Dropping him, she spun around quickly waiting for the next blow 
only to discover that she was the only one standing. Three of them 
were unconscious and the fourth man was holding his broken jaw 
as he cringed on the floor.

Staring at the four vanquished foes, Jane felt an unusual emotion. 
She wanted to pull her shoulders back, puff out her chest and raise 
her head to the sky and give a victory cry. She felt a strong 
primitive urge to celebrate her victory over the defeated enemy - to 
beat on her chest and loudly proclaim her triumph.

Resisting the strong masculine boasting urge, she glanced around 
the cave, seeing a pile of clothes which she recognized as her 
Amazon Warrior women clothes, Nasroi's robes, and Tarzan's 
loincloth. She took two steps toward the clothes pile, then stopped 
to examine her male body. The unusual, very strange feeling, 
emitting from the center of her new body gave her another reminder 
that she wasn't in her real female body. There was a rock hard 
erection sticking up and bouncing around between her male legs. 
She stared down at the engorged staff, feeling an unusual physical 
sensation that she quickly determined was the normal male's 
equivalent of being very horny.

Gritting her teeth, she tried to ignore the warm bobbling sensation, 
knowing that males typically experienced several erections a day. 
She recognized that the erection had probably been caused by the 
physical sensation of the fight, and not caused by any of her 
opponents arousing her sexually. She continued across the room, 
selected Tarzan's loincloth from the clothes pile and tied it around 
her waist, ignoring the throbbing cockhead, thrilled with the weird 
feeling but at the same time frustrated because there wasn't any 
time to stop and explore that unusual sensation to its obvious 
ending.

She adjusted the small loincloth around her waist, feeling the 
weight of the heavy knife on her side. Putting her hand on the 
knife, she re-examined her conquered enemies, recognizing that the 
real Tarzan probably wouldn't leave them alive so that they could 
ever bother him again. She felt a strong desire to use the knife to 
slit their throats and take their lives - to ensure that they would 
never bother her or the village again. 

She felt the smooth, solid handle as it fit the natural curl of 
Tarzan's hand. Slowly the knife slid out of it's sheath until the 
bright shiny blade was completely exposed. She stared at the one 
man that was still conscious, who had crawled to a far corner of the 
cave and was cringing in fear. She stepped toward him, not sure 
what she was going to do, feeling very primitive emotions drive her 
body instead of common sense. The heavy knife was held in front of 
her in a stabbing position.

She stared into the man's eyes, seeing the white of his eyes, 
recognizing that he knew that he was very close to dying. She felt 
the tension in her muscular arm as her muscles tensed, knowing 
that it would only take a easy slice of the sharp knife's blade to slit 
his throat.

She stopped in mid-step and quickly examined the rest of the cave, 
seeing some old rope in a corner. Two minutes later, all four of the 
men had been securely tied and she was satisfied with this 
solution.

She'd never taken a man's life before but she knew that she could 
do it just as she'd learned how to kill her own food with a spear 
instead of letting some farmer butcher it on her father's farm.

Returning to the clothes pile, she picked up her spear but it didn't 
feel right. It felt too light and fragile in her new larger hands. She 
dropped it and selected a heavier, longer spear from the guard's 
stacked weapon pile.

Stepping out into the bright sunlight, she started running, 
immediately noticing the difference that Tarzan's longer and 
stronger legs made when running. After a couple of hundred feet, 
she fell into a natural rhythm and stride that felt as if she could 
run at that fast speed all day, recognizing that it was much faster 
than her normal sprint. The long legs propelled her larger body 
quickly across the fields until she topped the small rise overlooking 
the village.

Even from the nearby hilltop, she could tell that the village was 
deserted. She stayed close to the tree line maintaining her cover as 
she approached the dead-looking village. Slowing to a fast walk as 
she entered the village, she was appalled at the obvious signs of 
hurried desertion by the villagers and subsequent looting by the 
outlaws. The beautiful little friendly village that she loved so much, 
now seemed so cold and desolate.

She discovered a couple of recently dead bodies, recognizing that 
the decision to desert the village had been forced on them. Stopping 
to examine the dead body of one Amazon Warrior that she had 
hunted with many times before, she recognized that the enemy 
wasn't too far away because the dead woman's body was still 
slightly warm. Jane continued toward the center of the town, 
feeling a strong anger from the death of her friends and obvious 
pillage of the village. If she had felt this way back in the cavern, 
none of those guards would be alive now.

Her sharper hearing detected the slight sounds of approaching feet. 
She turned to face the direction of the unseen visitors, feeling her 
strong muscles react to the anticipation of the potential fight. 
Holding the spear ready to attack the unseen enemy, she stared at 
the hut where her keen hearing told her that the approaching feet 
would emerge into the town center.

A dirty and sweaty Laywan came charging into the town center, 
closely followed by two equally grubby Amazon Warriors. Laywan's 
grim face changed to a smile when she saw the person that she 
assumed to be Tarzan standing next to the main village fire-pit.

"Have you seen Jane?" asked the heavy breathing woman as she 
approached the person that she thought was Tarzan. There was a 
big gash in the side of Laywan's head that was coated with dried 
blood, showing that the Warrior had recently participated in a 
battle.

The simple question reminded Jane that only Nasroi and herself 
knew the truth of her real identity. For a moment, Jane considered 
telling her good friend about the body exchange, then decided 
against it. There wasn't time and Laywan was used to giving her 
little friend orders. Laywan wouldn't let Jane - even a Jane in 
Tarzan's body - to go against Bart. The only way that this proud 
Amazon Warrior Chief would let Jane have first shot at Bart, was if 
the Amazon thought that she was really Tarzan.

Relaxing from her fighting position, Jane replied gruffly, still not 
used to hearing Tarzan's baritone voice when she spoke "Jane's all 
right. She's back in the mines. She was roughed up some, but 
Nasroi's guarding her."

Laywan pointed with her spear at her village, allowing a tear to 
trickle down her dust-covered cheek "They demanded gold, which 
we willingly gave them, but they thought that we were holding out. 
So they charged the village with their guns. There was only nine of 
them, but they had all of the guns and we could only throw our 
spears at them. I ordered the village to evacuate and stayed with 
my guards. During the brief fighting, we killed two of them, but lost 
seven Warriors and had twelve wounded. A bullet bounced off my 
head and I was carried away as my guards retreated. When I woke 
up, I made sure that everyone was safe, then returned here to 
continue the battle. Tarzan, will you lead us?"

******

Brad's group had an hour's head start, but they were slowed down 
by the gold-laden heavy carts that the weary horses were having to 
pull uphill. In less than two hours, the small group of Amazon 
Warriors that were led by the person that the three Amazon women 
recognized as Tarzan had caught up to them. Staying in the tree 
line to stay out of sight, the pursuers closely followed the 
unsuspecting outlaws as they developed an ambush plan. The new 
Tarzan and Laywan decided it was too dangerous for the four of 
them to attack the much larger group of armed renegades in the 
bright daylight so they decided to follow Brad's group until the 
protective dark nighttime cover.

About an hour before sundown, one of the men left the outlaw's 
group and turned back down the path, back toward the village. 
Tarzan's sharp eyes were able to pick out enough distinguishing 
features to recognize the lone departing outlaw as her former friend 
- Sir Walter. Laywan picked up her spear and was getting ready to 
follow the old man far away from the outlaws so that she could kill 
him without alerting the other outlaws when a negative shake from 
Tarzan's head stopped her with a quick command "Stay with me. 
I'll need everyone when we attack the main group."

Laywan looked fleetingly at the departing old man and turned away 
from chasing the old man, obeying the great warrior that was 
leading her small group of warriors - Tarzan.

******

The battle was brief. The outlaws had superior weaponry - guns 
against the natives spears - and twice as many people, but the 
outlaws relaxed their security as they laughed and joked about 
what they were going to do with their gold when they got back to 
the outside world. They were going through an area covered with 
small bushes when four spears were thrown at close range, 
immediately killing four of the outlaws. 

Within one second, a semi-naked white man charged two of the 
surprised outlaws as they reached for their guns stored on the 
wagon. Before they could grab their weapons and point their rifles 
at anything, one of the outlaw's throat had been cut and the other 
outlaw was thrown off the wagon, his neck broken by the strong 
and fast-moving semi-naked white man. 

Moving like a demon in her borrowed body, Jane turned around, 
seeking another target, especially looking for Brad, but she saw 
Laywan struggling with the outlaw that Laywan been tasked to take 
out with a knife. Jumping from the wagon, Jane bounced the three 
steps to Laywan and used her large bare hands to break the 
outlaw's neck. At the same moment, there was a loud boom from a 
gun. Turning around, she saw one of the Amazon Warriors falling to 
the ground, blood gushing from a shoulder wound. Two more quick 
jumps and Jane tackled the outlaw shooter before he could reload, 
rolling with him on the ground twice. By the second roll on the 
ground, Tarzan's knife had killed the outlaw. 

Pushing the dead man aside, Jane leaped to her feet and spun 
around looking for any other outlaw to battle, but there were none 
left. In addition to the one killed by her thrown spear, the two on 
the wagon, the one that was fighting Laywan and the rifleman, the 
three Amazon Warriors killed three with their spears and three 
more in the close fighting. Laywan had already killed one before she 
was helped by Jane.

Quickly the two standing Amazon Warriors examined the dead to 
ensure that all their foes had been vanquished, before helping their 
wounded comrade. A fast moving Jane searched for Brad, quickly 
discovering that the hated outlaw wasn't with the wagon.

Jane ran back up the slight rise that the outlaws had just crossed 
before the attack. Standing on the top of it, Jane could barely see a 
distant man on horseback as the man galloped back down toward 
the relative safety of the valley. As Jane angrily stared at the distant 
horseman, Laywan came running across the hilltop, carrying her 
blood-covered spear and equally-red spear that Laywan knew 
belonged to Tarzan. "Mowlizn will be all right. Is that Brad?"

"Yeah, when we sneaked in front of them and hid, he must've been 
suspicious and hung back. When we attacked, he escaped."

Laywan handed the spear to the white man standing beside her as 
the ebony chief declared  "There's no way that he can escape, but 
he can hide out for a long time and harass us. I won't sleep until 
he's dead."

******

The sun had been down for about three hours when Jane decided 
to stop and rest for the night. It was too dark to follow Brad's trail 
and Laywan was exhausted from the day-long series of battles, the 
subsequent pursuits and her injuries. Although Laywan objected to 
her tribe's war chief's decision to stop and rest, the native chief 
quickly fell asleep as soon as they stopped. 
 
While Laywan slept, Jane formulated a plan. She would continue to 
pretend to be Tarzan until they found Brad, then she would kill the 
outlaw. Then she would return to the mine where she would swap 
bodies with the real Tarzan again and no one would ever know 
about her short life as a man. Satisfied with her plans, she tried to 
relax but she was still feeling so strong that she didn't feel like 
resting. Jane knew that if Laywan hadn't been so exhausted that 
she would've kept going all night or until she caught up with the 
hated outlaw.

Recognizing that she needed to rest so that she was at maximum 
strength when she did catch up to Brad, she tried to relax by 
listening to the familiar and enjoyable sounds of the night jungle. A 
little moonlight was lightening up their campsite which helped her 
keen eyes peer through the darkness. As she relaxed, she 
discovered that she was staring at her sleeping Amazon Warrior 
friend, watching the slight heaving of her large, firm breasts under 
her leather halter. 

For some unknown reason, staring at a woman's breasts through a 
man's eyes was a little different than looking at the same breasts 
through her normal female eyes. She had seen Laywan's naked 
breasts so often that she felt comfortable with the sight and no 
longer stared at her large areola or thick nipples. But tonight it was 
different.

The sleeping Amazon was lying on her back and her breasts were 
properly hidden by her leather armored halter. Leather armor very 
similar to the smaller armor that Jane had herself worn almost 
constantly since her arrival and acceptance by the Amazon 
warriors. But something about the deep shadows and slightly 
heaving cleavage of her sleeping friend appeared so exotic in the 
dim moonlight. Jane stared at her friend's slightly moving and 
hidden breasts as she tried to determine what intrigued men so 
much about large mammaries.

Shutting her eyes, Jane thought about her own breasts, which she 
considered to be the perfect breasts - not too big and not too small. 
Since coming to Africa, Jane had seen every possible combination 
of naked female breasts and had decided that small, firm, teardrop 
shaped breasts - like hers - were the perfect breasts for breast 
connoisseurs. But even that small size, for all practical purposes, 
her breasts were too large to be comfortable for someone with an 
active, outdoor type of lifestyle. She'd always been an active woman 
and knew that the ideal shape for an active women was a breast no 
bigger than a scrambled egg. True it was a shape that didn't attract 
men's attentions but that size stayed firmer longer because it 
didn't bounce as much and would take longer to sag out of shape. 
And it was easier to add a little padding to that size so that a dress 
filled out correctly. 

She remembered when she was a teenager and began filling out. At 
first it was a thrill and even the accompanying side-effects of messy 
panties once a month excited her. Then her parents noticed the 
slight body change and began attempting to mold her into a young 
lady while she wanted to remain a tomboy. Her parents wanted 
dresses and ruffles - she wanted trousers and a cotton shirt. Then 
the boy's quit picking on her as they also noticed her filling out 
body. They began flirting with her and trying to seduce her while 
she wanted to remain friends. She had to quit swimming naked 
because too many of the farm hands were watching the stretch of 
the river where she used to sneak away to go swimming. And her 
former male friends began staring at her boobs, sometimes being 
very obvious as they glanced down while they were talking to her. 
She considered learning ventriloquism so that whenever someone 
was staring down her cleavage, she could throw her voice and ask 
them "what are you staring at?".

That childhood practical joke desire caused a smile to form on her 
new face and for her daydream to fade away as she glanced again 
at Laywan's breasts. The native woman had large dark breasts - 
the type of breasts that would provide plentiful milk to her future 
babies. Breasts that had to be supported by the halters to prevent 
premature sagging as the very active woman led her warriors on 
hunting trips. Breasts that were so obviously female that it softened 
the muscular hardness of her very tall and solid-built body. Breasts 
that were soft and that could muffle a face as the face explored the 
tantalizing cleavage. Breasts with nipples that quickly became hard 
and pouty. 

Jane was pulled back from this daydream about Laywan's breasts 
when she felt the mild erection throbbing slightly under the 
loincloth - an slightly bobbing, engorged feeling which could only 
be a hard-on and which was beginning to feel very familiar to her 
since she'd taken over this male body. Since transferring into 
Tarzan's body about fourteen hours earlier, she had experienced 
five different erections. Once in the cave after the first battle which 
had been the first one, then a mild one as she slowly ran through 
the trees close behind Laywan's bounding ass as they followed the 
outlaws up the hillside, then another mild one as she laid in the 
bushes close to Laywan smelling the warm heat from Laywan's 
musky body, then there was a major one after the big battle when 
the thrill of victory was felt. And this one - a rapidly hardening 
shaft that was propping up Tarzan's flimsy loincloth as Jane sat so 
close to the sleeping Nubian woman.

Lying still and enjoying this wonderful new male sensation, Jane 
could feel the blood pounding in the rapidly growing cockhead 
between her new male legs as the throbbing cockhead continued to 
harden. With its hardening, Jane began feeling something that she 
recognized as an itch as the manhood between her legs silently 
pleaded for relief. 

She felt her right hand slip under the loincloth and felt the hot 
warmth of the cock as her large male hand wrapped around the 
hard shaft that was sticking straight out from her new body. A hard 
shaft that felt as solid and thick as the spear shaft that she'd been 
carrying all day. A hard shaft that was now almost twice as long as 
Tarzan's hand - growing to almost twice its flaccid size. A hard 
shaft that had a bulging mushroom type of cockhead that was 
tingling as Jane rubbed it against the soft loincloth. Feeling it 
quiver and throb with desire, she now recognized what Tarzan had 
meant one time when he declared "that his little head too often 
thought for his big head."

Jane bit her lip as she slid her dry hand up the hard shaft, feeling 
the engorged veins as she imagined what it would be like to coat 
her hand with spit and pump the hard shaft. She stared at the 
sleeping woman laying so close to her and shut her eyes as she 
imagined it was Laywan's dark-haired pussy wrapped around the 
erection. For a moment, Jane lost control as the male hand began 
moving up and down in that familiar motion that so many men 
learned during their transition from boy to man. Jane could almost 
feel the imaginary pubic hair as her daydream became more real 
feeling.

With a gasp, Jane jerked her eyes open and let go of the throbbing 
manhood between her legs. In the dim moonlight, the very obvious 
erection looked so huge.

Staring at Laywan's body, Jane felt very tempted to see what it was 
like to make love as a man - to take this opportunity to let Tarzan's 
body run rampant with Laywan's very sexy body. Jane knew that it 
would be so easy because it was something that she knew that 
Laywan wanted also and if Jane, as Tarzan, made the first move, 
then the Nubian princess would allow it to happen. 

Jane felt herself rationalizing that "this would probably be her only 
opportunity to see what it was like, to ram a hot cock into a 
woman's wet pussy." She felt the hardening shaft between her very 
masculine legs throbbing as it stood straight up from her new male 
body - the way that she had seen it so many times from her real 
female body's perspective. Jane felt her arm move slightly of its 
own violation and felt her large male hand gently touch Laywan's 
soft belly, causing Jane to shudder slightly from that simple but 
sensuous touch. Jane let her male hand slowly drift up Laywan's 
soft belly and felt the dark-skinned warrior woman's breathing 
change slightly. Through Tarzan's eyes, Jane watched her fingers 
reach up and slide under the loose halter at the top. For a moment, 
Laywan's breathing changed but the exhausted woman's lips 
quickly returned to her light snore. Jane let the fingers move slowly 
across Laywan's soft flesh, until the fingers barely touch Laywan's 
nipples and heard a slight gasp escape Laywan's still sleeping lips.

The pounding in the cockhead by now had spread so that Tarzan's 
entire body felt like it was pounding. Jane felt Tarzan's body 
moving as it shifted position so that the large male body was lying 
beside the woman who was almost the same height as Tarzan's 
body. Jane felt a light sweat cover Tarzan's body as she recognized 
that she wasn't in control of any of her actions anymore. But she 
didn't care.

The fingertips were gently squeezing one nipple now and Laywan's 
sleeping lips had lightly parted and her tongue was flickering 
slightly through the open lips like a snake inviting Tarzan's tongue 
into her mouth. Tarzan's head moved slowly towards Laywan's 
slightly glistening lips, drawn as if by a magnet. When the male lips 
covered the sleeping woman's lips, Laywan responded with a light 
groan as she awakened like a sleeping beauty being awoke by her 
Prince Charming and her warm lips responded with a strong 
passion. At the same time, Laywan spread her legs and rolled so 
that she rolled Tarzan over on his back as she rolled on top of him. 
Laywan's strong fingers dug into Tarzan's hair as her covered 
pubic mound pressed firmly against Tarzan's engourged manhood, 
his fingers formed the curved shape as he cupped her down-
hanging breasts.

For thirty seconds, their bodies strained against each other as their 
lips revealed their deep sexual desires to each other. Then Laywan 
began struggling and pulled away as she gasped "I can't do it. 
Jane's a friend of mine."

Laywan rolled off of Tarzan's body as Jane lightly tried to hold her 
friend, but Laywan pushed herself away from the white man until 
there was at least four feet separating them. Laywan's dark breasts 
were heaving and a bright fire glowed in her eyes as she quickly 
continued "I want you. You know I want you, but I can't do it. 
You're Jane's man and I won't do anything to ruin her 
relationship. Do you understand?"

The pounding in Tarzan's head was residing and although Tarzan's 
body didn't agree with the request, the female personality buried 
within the too-male body did understand. The frustrated new man 
rolled over and tried to go to sleep, feeling the hard erection 
between the legs slowly fade and become flaccid as Jane promised 
herself that her own female body would probably be a better way to 
relive her frustration and lose her `male' virginity.

******

It was easy to find Brad's hiding place but it took most of the next 
day. He had tried to hide in a canyon where there was only one 
entrance and exit. The two pursuers worked their way up the 
canyon, then Brad revealed his position in the rocks by firing at 
them. Jane went back down the canyon, then climbed the canyon 
walls, then followed the canyon rim until she was behind Brad's 
location, then came down the canyon behind an unsuspecting 
Brad.

Tarzan's callused feet didn't make any noise on the rocks as Jane 
approached the man that she hated so much. As she approached 
him from above his location, she began feeling something take 
control of her borrowed body. It was something different, something 
ancient, something primal as her male body reacted to the ancient 
chromosomes that turned men into savage beasts. As her male 
body began to slither through the underbrush like a great silent 
tiger sneaking up on its prey, she knew that she wouldn't rest until 
she had killed Brad. 

She felt one of the hands wrap around the knife handle, holding the 
knife in the classic stab position. She felt the `hunter' portion of 
Tarzan's body take control of her movements, just the same way 
that the little cockhead had taken control the previous night. She 
knew that she could get him with the spear but she wanted to do it 
with the knife or her bare hands. The hunter moved silently onto a 
big rock, overlooking the prone outlaw as Brad stared down the 
canyon, his rifle ready for a quick shot. Jane felt her muscles tense 
and a low unhuman growl escape her lips as she stared at the 
hated enemy below.

Brad must have heard the deadly growl because he rolled over, his 
face all ashen with fear as he saw his enemy above. Recognizing 
that he didn't have time to use the rifle, he reached for the pistol 
on his waist. That slight movement was all it took, for Tarzan's 
body to propel itself from the rock onto his enemy. There was the 
thud of contact between the two bodies, then a muffled boom as 
Brad's pistol went off, and the two bodies spun around on the 
ground.

Jane smelled the acrid smell of the gunpowder and felt a burning 
on one of the legs. She leaped to her feet, the knife automatically 
changing position from a stabbing position to a knife-fighting, 
slicing position. Before she could step in and attack Brad with the 
knife, she noticed that his eyes were glazing over. Then there was a 
small noise as the pistol fell from his hand onto the rock. His shirt 
was coated with blood and he was obviously dying. Not satisfied 
with allowing him to die slowly, Jane stepped forward, grabbed him 
by his hair, pulled his head back and with one quick motion, slit 
his throat.

Still holding the knife, she watched the blood squirt from his neck, 
as she examined his body, observing that part of his chest was split 
open from her initial attack with the knife. As Brad's jerking body 
gasped his dying breaths, she stood above the body, leaned her 
head back and release the primitive cry of victory that only the 
hunter knows.

******

Laywan examined the minor wound on Tarzan's body. Brad's 
bullet had made a slight groove in the outer skin that wasn't deep, 
yet it was bleeding heavily. Laywan made a poultice and used 
Brad's shirt as a bandage. Then they started their long trip back to 
the village.

Darkness had quickly overtaken them because they had spent most 
of the day tracking their enemy, so they quickly found a good 
camping spot to rest for the night. Jane killed a small goat for their 
supper while Laywan prepared the camp. As Jane entered the 
camp, she noticed that Laywan had prepared a campfire and made 
a bed for two. Not two beds but a bed for two made of jungle foliage.

Neither of them talked as they quickly cooked and ate their food. 
Then Laywan began removing her clothes. When she was 
completely naked, she laid down on the bed of leaves and broke the 
silence with "Last night I was a warrior and made the worst 
mistake of my life. Jane is my friend and what I'm about to allow 
myself to do, is wrong for our friendship. But tonight, the woman 
within me tells me that I must have you. I've thought about this all 
day and have decided that as an outsider, it's your obligation to 
have several mates, to bring new life to our tribe and I use that as 
my justification. Come to me, Tarzan and let me be one of your 
mates, knowing that your heart really belongs to my friend. When 
we return to the village, I'll tell Jane how I have dishonored our 
friendship and pray that she forgives me."

Chapter 6 - Acceptance of the new identity

The spot where Brad had died, was two days of fast walking from 
the village which they couldn't do with their respective injuries and 
totally exhausted bodies. There bodies were as much exhausted 
from their first night of sex together as from their feverish tracking 
of Brad. When they finally managed to un-entangle from each 
other's embrace after their wonderful night of sex, the sun was 
very high overhead. So instead of breakfast, they shared a light 
lunch as they departed the spot where they had accepted each 
other as lovers. 

As they walked back to the village, each of them had their private 
thoughts about what had occurred between them. Laywan was all 
bubbling and thrilled from finally being accepted as a lover by the 
man that she had loved from afar so long. She knew that she had to 
deal with the potential loss of Jane's friendship when she returned, 
but she was prepared to deal with that. 

As for the new Tarzan, the thoughts going through Jane's new  
head were even more complex. Jane had thoroughly enjoyed letting 
`the little head' take control of her new body and actions. The first 
time that Jane's borrowed cock entered Laywan's wet and tight 
cunt, Jane lost all control and could only think about pounding 
deep into Laywan's deep love pit. She felt her male body thrust 
hard and enjoyed the sensation of Tarzan's balls bouncing against 
Laywan's ass. From that moment on, Jane could only groan as her 
borrowed body reacted to that deep primeval desire. Just as her 
new body had turned into a killing machine earlier, now it turned 
into a man mating with his woman. Jane felt that same, but 
somehow different feeling, as her male body reacted to the ancient 
chromosomes that turned savage men into pussy-whipped slaves.

The first time that Jane's new balls began that churning motion as 
the cum began boiling deep within her male body, she jerked as 
every muscle in her new body stiffened, providing that ages-old 
signal between lovers that Laywan recognized. Laywan's sharp 
fingernails digging deep into Jane's wide and thickly muscled back 
provided just the right impetus as Jane doubled both her gasping 
and pounding against Laywan's spread legs. Jane could feel the 
cum boiling within her pounding body - cum that boiled hotter as 
her throbbing cockhead probed faster and deeper into the woman's 
spread body cavity.

Laywan responded by bending her legs and wrapping her ankles 
around Jane's masculine shoulders allowing Jane to enter deeper 
into the woman's equally hot body. Gone was all thought of proper 
technique as Jane could only think about how to get all of Tarzan's 
cock into the woman. Then Jane paused as the most wonderful 
feeling erupted from deep inside her male body. She could feel the 
cum as it rushed through her male body and shot like a shotgun 
blast into the woman's cavity. For about five seconds, Jane 
couldn't move and barely recognized that Laywan was responding 
by enthusiastic humping and that Laywan's internal muscles were 
pumping Tarzan's cock. Jane heard deep guttural groans come 
from her throat as her male body pumped spasm after spasm into 
Laywan's waiting body.

As they walked and thought their private thoughts, Jane's 
thoughts flittered from memories of sex with Laywan to thoughts 
about what it was like to make love as a man to thoughts about 
telling Laywan the truth. Laywan had bared some of her private 
thoughts about how she felt about potentially losing her friendship 
with Jane while Jane kept hid the thoughts about what Laywan 
would really think if Laywan only knew that she was Jane in 
Tarzan's body.

****** 

There was a second night of shared camp beds and enjoyment of 
each other's body but this time both of them worked on technique 
as they tried to control their passions long enough to please their 
partner, as they spent most of the night in one passionate embrace 
after another. 

Laywan was a very skilled lover and had kept them awake most of 
both nights, but Jane didn't mind. In fact, the noticeably horny 
Jane was the instigator for a couple of rest stops during their 
hiking where neither of them rested. So thoroughly did both of 
them enjoy the mutual sex, that they began to slow down as they 
came closer to the village, stopping for one last "two hour rest stop" 
when they were less than five miles from the village.

It was a different `Tarzan' that was going back to the village - a 
`Tarzan' that had proven to Jane's new ego that not only was the 
former English Lady, a great warrior but that she also could use a 
cock as if she had been born with one. Jane had tried the 
missionary, dog-style, and other normal love-making procedures 
only to discover that the sexual act that she enjoyed the most, was 
what Jane had found the most uncomfortable as a woman - a blow-
job.

Having only experienced three lovers in Jane's short life hadn't 
given Jane much experience with methods or time to develop an 
appreciation for a thrusting cock within her female mouth. Prior to 
the body exchange, she had sucked the first two lovers reluctantly 
because they demanded it as a variant to their lovemaking and she 
had only recently began getting any enjoyment out of sucking 
Tarzan's cock. So when the very experienced Laywan first took 
Jane's borrowed cock into Laywan's hungry wet mouth, the very 
pleasing sensations of a warm mouth and experienced wet tongue 
around the cock were a pleasant surprise.

Jane thought that it felt good to stand up straight and have the 
beautiful Nubian Warrior - the leader of the village - drop to her 
knees, bend her head back and wrap her wet lips around Tarzan's 
throbbing cock. It felt great to dig Jane's new strong fingernails 
into Laywan's scalp and to guide Laywan's head as Jane 
repeatedly thrust her pounding cock into the woman's hungry 
mouth. And the best part was when Jane exploded into Laywan's 
warm and hungry mouth, then Laywan sucked Jane's throbbing 
cock dry, almost causing another orgasm from the experienced 
sucking action. Then Jane would push the ebony woman over onto 
the ground, roll Laywan over on her back and spread her beautiful 
legs as Jane reciprocated the intimate action while Laywan's warm 
mouth quickly returned Jane's borrowed manhood to the full erect 
stage of manhood. When both of their faces were covered with each 
other's juices, then they would revert to the normal missionary or 
dog-style positions.

This `Tarzan' had left the village as an angry woman in a man's 
body, but was returning as a person who enjoyed her relatively 
short time living as a man. This person enjoyed the masculine 
body, the acceptance by others as being a man, and the sexual 
attention that the beautiful Amazon was showering on Jane in her 
borrowed body. Jane had spent some of the walking miles, thinking 
about how to delay the transfer back into her real body, until after 
she was able to get both the current Jane and Laywan into bed at 
the same time.

As they neared the village at twilight, both of them noticed that the 
village was still armed with guards, but they attributed that to the 
villager's being unaware of Brad's death. It was only when they 
were challenged by one of the guards, that they learned what had 
occurred during the four days of their journey.

Four days ago, Sir Walter had returned to the mine, released the 
guards that had been tied up by Tarzan and taken a still injured 
Jane away from Nasroi. The person that the whole village knew as 
Jane was the prisoner of Sir Walter and was somewhere out in the 
valley.

******

A very angry looking Tarzan and Laywan quickly found Nasroi who 
was recovering from a nasty side wound that he got from his battles 
with one of the guards during Sir Walter's attack. Jane's first 
remark clued Nasroi as how to address her, in her temporary body  
"What happened to Jane?"

Nasroi looked straight at Jane, understanding the need to keep the 
secret as he explained to the new arrivals "As we agreed, I stayed 
behind to look after Jane. Her head wound had quit bleeding, and 
she had regained some reasoning so that she could talk and move 
about but she was still acting funny. She didn't have any memory 
of what happened or who she really was. She had forgotten 
everything. I almost cried as I sat there talking to her, knowing that 
she also didn't know who I was or how she had been injured."

Understanding his meaning, Jane nodded for the injured man to 
proceed.

"You'd been gone four or five hours when I heard a noise coming 
down the hallway. Thinking that it was you returning, I opened the 
door and saw five bodies rushing me. I didn't have any weapons 
but I fought them with my hands and rocks but they quickly 
overpowered me after one of their spears penetrated my side. Even 
severely injured, I tried to protect Jane but they carried her away. It 
scared me to see the old man leading them - the one who had been 
Jane's friend but was now her captor. He wasn't surprised to 
discover that Tarzan had escaped and had gone after Brad. He told 
the other men that they wouldn't follow Brad because that's where 
Tarzan was going. As they easily led a very confused Jane out of the 
room, I crawled after them but I couldn't keep up with them 
because of my injuries. It took me three to four hours to cover the 
half mile distance to the entrance where I was found by some of our 
villagers. The old man and Jane had disappeared and we haven't 
been able to find them."

******

Two days later a very tired Tarzan found one of the men who had 
taken his former body prisoner. The outlaw had sneaked back to 
the village to pilfer some of the gold that the villagers had brought 
back from the hillside. Questioning by Laywan's most experienced 
interrogators revealed little. The small bunch of outlaws knew that 
the other outlaws were dead and they were trying to hide until such 
time as when they could escape the valley. Two of them had argued 
with the other three men and left, returning to try to steal some of 
the gold, while the other three were escaping. One of the outlaws 
wanted to kill their injured female captive, claiming that the woman 
was dead weight, but Sir Walter had convinced them that she was 
the ideal hostage as long as Tarzan was looking for them. This 
captured outlaw verified that the injured woman hadn't recovered 
her memory yet.

Laywan tripled the guards to the only mountain valley exit but Jane 
didn't think that was how Sir Walter planned to escape with his 
injured captive. So Jane prowled the areas around the river until 
she found signs of trees being recently cut down and dragged to the 
river. She ran along the river cliffs searching for the raft that she 
knew must be hidden somewhere within the shadows of the river 
cliffs.

Then Jane saw the crudely-made raft in the middle of the stream 
and about three hundred feet above where the four-hundred-foot 
waterfall dropped into the Momgua's valley territory below. On the 
raft were two native outlaws, one white old man who was easily 
recognized as Sir Walter and Jane's real body. Her real body was 
dressed in her Amazon clothing and tied to a box which looked like 
one of the small gold boxes from the mine. 

Turning to the two warriors accompanying their new warrior leader, 
Jane declared "I'm going after her. Tell Laywan where I've gone."

Diving from the sixty-foot high river cliff into the river, Jane swam 
toward the raft, recognizing that she wouldn't catch up to it before 
it went over the falls. Turning toward shore, she began running 
along the shore and had almost caught up to the raft, when it went 
over the falls.

Stopping at the cliff edge, Jane stared into the misty pool below, 
hopping that she would see the raft and its precious cargo. After 
two minutes of nothing appearing, she saw a log float out of the 
misty pool, on down the river. The raft had busted apart when it 
hit.

Looking down the steep cliff edge, Jane confirmed what Laywan and 
others had previously told her, that there was no way to climb all 
the way down the cliff. Jane stared at the cliff for a minute and 
picked out a potential path where she could climb, drop, and slide 
to a point where she would be about a hundred and fifty feet above 
the pool. It was still too high to dive into the pool, but maybe she 
could survive a jump.

Jane spent the next hectic twenty minutes going down the slope, 
not caring that her hands and male body were bleeding from 
several cuts from her reckless hurtle down the steep and dangerous 
cliff face. Every two or three minutes, she would pause to re-
examine the pool through the mist, hoping that she would see 
`Jane's dark head' of hair, cursing as the lower that she went, the 
mist further obscured the pool until she couldn't see anything 
within the pool. She was only able to see various cut logs float 
down the river.

Finally working her way along a narrow ledge, Jane decided that 
this was as low as she could get - to within about one hundred and 
thirty feet above the misty pool. Balancing for a second as she 
peered through the heavy mist, she noticed the busted pieces of 
wood caught in a logjam on the other side of the pool - pieces of 
wood that looked exactly like the box that her real body had been 
tied to.

Not waiting another second, she leaped out as far as she could, 
hoping that she would clear the rocks at the base of the falls. As 
soon as she entered the mist, she twisted so that her feet would 
break the fall.

There was silence then a loud boom exploded in her ears as she hit 
the water. Being an experienced cliff diver, Jane knew that 
something was wrong. She tried to swim, but the breath had been 
knocked out of her male body, her strong arms weren't working 
and her feet felt leaden. It took a lot of effort to swim to the surface. 
Reaching the water's surface, she stared through blood-shot eyes, 
she saw the remains of the wooden box jammed against an old 
stuck log. She tried to swim but one of her arms wasn't moving 
and she was only able to do a modified dog-paddle stroke.

Reaching the wooden box, Jane discovered through her blood-shot 
eyes that it was busted but that there wasn't any sign of his real 
body. She grabbed the log and pulled herself up on the log and laid 
there, trying to grab her breath as she searched through the mist. It 
panicked her when she realized that she was passing out from the 
very serious injuries to her borrowed body.

******

It took Laywan four days to get to the person that she only knew as 
Tarzan. As soon as the warriors had told her what he'd done, she 
took off through the mountains and across the pass, not pausing to 
rest at night as she continued to work her way around the 
treacherous mountain cliffs until she reached the base of the 
waterfall. She found him where he'd passed out on the rocks. He 
was feverish and confused from his injuries. She set his broken 
bones and nursed him for the next three days until enough 
warriors arrived to transport him back to the village.

Their war chief drifted in and out of consciousness, frequently being 
so still that they had to frequently check him to see if he was 
breathing. Other times, he would be delirious, rambling about 
anything and everything. After the first demented mumbling 
session, Laywan gave orders that only she could watch Tarzan 
when he was delirious. They gave him a strong jungle herb to help 
him sleep so that his body could heal.

He had several ribs that were broken, one arm was dislocated, a 
foot was broken, he had a concussion and his open wounds had 
become infected. If it had taken Laywan another day to get to him, 
he would've probably died from his injuries. As it was, he was 
going to have to heal for awhile - physically and mentally.

As soon as she had some spare warriors, Laywan dispatched 
warriors to search the riverbank downstream, directing them that 
they had to find the bodies before they could return home. They 
found one body about four days down river - or what was left of it. 
The alligators had already sampled it.

******

They kept him asleep while they transported him back to the 
village. In all, it was almost three weeks from the day that he went 
over the fall before they started weaning him from the medicine, 
letting him drift in and out of consciousness. It took another week 
before the medicine wore off, a week where he rambled and talked 
about ever-changing subjects to Laywan who never left his bedside, 
unless Nasroi was guarding Tarzan.

The day that he began talking normally, Laywan and Nasroi sat 
down beside the injured man's bed, happy that the worst was over. 
Laywan held his hand as she said "You've been asleep for a month. 
You were hurt bad in the fall which would've killed most men."

"What about Jane?" the injured man croaked in his hoarse voice.

"We searched up and down the river. We're sure that the rocks 
killed them and that the predators beat us to their bodies. It had to 
be a quick death, so I don't think that she suffered."

There were several long seconds of awkward silence before Laywan 
said "You talked about a lot of things while you were delirious. At 
first, I thought it was just the fever causing you to be confused, 
then you began saying things that I knew must be the truth. When 
we returned to the village, Nasroi privately confirmed my 
suspicions. I know now that you're really Jane and that it was 
Tarzan in your former body that died when they went over the 
waterfall. Nasroi and I've thought about this unique situation a lot 
and prayed to our gods for guidance. Our prayers were returned 
with a sign that we interpret that things are as they should be. It 
was you in Tarzan's body that saved our village from the worst 
enemy that we've seen in over four hundred years. It was you that 
led us into battle and gave our warriors stories that our ancestors 
will talk about for years. It was you in Tarzan's body. Now that 
your real body is dead and the real Tarzan is dead, there is no one 
to claim your new body as their body. The body that you inhabit is 
now and forever your body. Neither Nasroi nor I'll ever tell anyone 
how it came about that you became our new leader. You are Tarzan 
- the man that I love and the man whose child I bear in my body. 
You are the only man that I've been with over the last several 
months and just as you saved my village, you have also brought 
new life to my body. I welcome and accept you as my mate - 
Tarzan!"

Slowly Tarzan's lips opened, as a very hurt Jane said "I came here 
seeking adventure and love, little suspecting what fate had in store 
for me. Just as I accepted my fate when I was captured by the 
Momguas, I accept my fate to live the rest of my life as Tarzan."

******

Four years later.

Time heals old wounds. Just as Tarzan's body healed, so did his 
spirit over the next couple of months. And Jane's acceptance that 
Tarzan's body would be her body for the rest of her life.  She began 
to think only of herself in the male gender and to think of the 
deceased Jane as the female.

A couple of months after the accident, a completely healed and very 
normal appeared Tarzan was climbing the trees and swinging 
through the jungle on vines again, as well as resuming the daily 
swimming routines again. As for Tarzan's love live, he resumed his 
active participation in bedtime activities with Laywan as soon as he 
was able to hobble around. The first couple of weeks, his beautiful 
and attractive personal nurse, Laywan, used only her lips to entice 
life back into the man. She expertly gave the healing man just the 
right stimulus to make him want to live. Then as his flexibility 
returned to normal, she added additional routines to their nightly 
lovemaking until Tarzan was able to handle anything - even the 
difficult but fantastic Hibacous Monkey position. The rest of the 
village thought that their village chief had helped Tarzan get over 
the death of Jane, little suspecting that Laywan had really helped 
him with a more difficult transition - accepting the permanent 
identity and life of Tarzan.

The new Tarzan felt comfortable in his new male body - almost as 
comfortable as if he'd been born in it. He enjoyed the taller height 
of his new body, being able to stare most people straight in the eyes 
instead of constantly looking up people's nostrils when he talked to 
them in his former and much smaller female body. He enjoyed the 
strength and pure power of his body, easily lifting things that he 
used to struggle with in his former body or being able to throw his 
new heavier spear twice as far. He enjoyed the longer legs which 
could run much faster and further but which could also jump 
higher and farther. He enjoyed pitting his new body against the 
Amazon Warriors, taking on two to three of them at one time as 
they practiced their hand-to-hand fighting techniques, relishing the 
physical contact knowing that he was able to manhandle them as 
easily as they had overran his former female body. He enjoyed 
running full speed across the valley floor and not having to hold 
bouncing female breasts. He enjoyed the simpler clothes of the 
loincloth, frequently smiling as he noticed the women adjusting 
their halters as they tried to keep the halters from pinching or 
binding their mounds of delicate woman flesh. He enjoyed the 
freedom from the monthly menstrual flows and hormonal 
personality changes. He grew a small beard which not only changed 
his looks but helped Jane to accept his new image as he looked at 
his reflection.

In addition to the physical pleasures, there were the mental 
pleasures also, such as the acceptance by all the village as being 
the unofficial leader. Laywan and the others were still the chiefs 
who ruled the village, but the new Tarzan was invited to participate 
in all meetings as an equal - a very great honor in this village that 
was ruled by women.

He noticed that everyone treated him differently now. Everyone was 
still his friends, but there was a marked difference in everyone 
else's attitudes. The women didn't discuss their `womanly' 
problems as openly as they did when he was Jane. They expected 
him to sit at the table while they waited on him. They liked to tease 
and flirt with him, as they swished around doing their womanly 
chores, while they expected nothing more from him than to be the 
village stud.

There was the pleasure of being a handsome, virile man in a village 
where the women weren't afraid to let their physical desires be 
known - where attractive young women that he had wrestled with 
only hours earlier during warrior training, would put on their finest 
clothes at night, add a little perfume and convert themselves from 
warriors to harem women as they spent the evening seducing him. 
His body was greatly desired by most of the village women.

Laywan had been right when she declared that she was pregnant 
and as her lush body began to fill out during the early stages of 
pregnancy, she followed the normal tribal procedure and moved out 
of Tarzan's bed, allowing one of the other warrior women to share 
his bed. During the four years after Jane's death, Tarzan lived with 
twenty-seven different Amazon Women Warriors, resulting in 
fourteen official new children - two by Laywan with a third on the 
way. Laywan's first baby had been a healthy boy whose birth the 
tribe celebrated. The first female baby born by one of Tarzan's 
women, had been named Jane.

There were other women that he bedded where he didn't go 
through the normal tribal ritual of accepting as a bed companion 
for a month - women that he would be out in the forest hunting 
with, and feel the strong urge to mate. Women were always 
available to go hunting with him because if game was scarce, 
Tarzan would make sure that the woman came back to camp with a 
smile on her face. There were also many women that he would 
follow back to their hut after the common supper and make love to 
them, then go to his hut where his `official' woman was waiting on 
him. Although he had fourteen official children and three more on 
the way, there were twelve other children with fair skin who looked 
like his children.

During that four years, the village re-built itself back into the sleepy 
peaceful village that it was before Brad's pillage. Every couple of 
months, one of the villagers would visit the Momgua and return 
with a couple of captives who would be added to the general 
breeding program just as Jane had been added. Most of them were 
natives from other jungle tribes, but there were a couple of white 
men from American, a Dutchman and his wife, and a Japanese 
man. Most of them accepted their destiny and gradually became 
productive members while a couple of others - were disciplined 
twice then disappeared.

It was almost four years to the day when Tarzan was playing with 
the little girl named after Jane and some of the other children as 
the convoy came over the mountains from Momgua with the new 
captives. As the convoy walked through the town center, something 
about one of the captives startled Tarzan. The man's face was all 
scarred on one side so that his face looked out of proportion, but 
the rest of him looked healthy. As the man turned his head, Tarzan 
noticed that the man's jaw had been dislocated sometime in the 
past and never healed correctly.

Staring at that old dislocated jaw, something clicked within 
Tarzan's memory. This was one of the outlaws who Tarzan had 
fought in the mine right after the body exchange. He was one of the 
outlaws who had been turned loose by Sir Walter and had captured 
Jane. He was one of the outlaws who had been on the raft and went 
over the waterfall with Jane. He was one of the outlaws who 
should've died from the waterfall or the down-river alligators. 

Jumping to his feet, Tarzan pushed through the crowd, grabbing 
the man by the face and holding his face close as he stared into the 
face, feeling the mutual pain as the outlaw recognized who it was 
that was holding him.

Tarzan felt that old anger build up inside him as he loudly 
demanded "How did you survive the fall?"

The man whimpered "The raft glided down the fall. I held onto it as 
we shot down the fall, then the raft hit something that jarred us but 
started pushing us away from the big rocks toward the small rocks. 
Whatever it was, it slowed us down as we fell so we didn't hit as if 
we'd fell the complete distance. When we hit, the raft busted up 
and everybody went flying every which way. I found a piece of wood 
and floated down river for about two days before I climbed out. My 
face was all cut up from the fall and I laid in the bushes, wishing I 
was dead. I saw some natives come through, searching for us, but I 
knew better than to let them find me. So I hid for a week then 
slowly worked my way down river. By the time that I got back to 
familiar territory, I was healed but stuck with a distorted face. Two 
years ago, I started working safaris again and got captured by the 
Momgua who didn't recognize me."

Tarzan's voice became hoarse as he asked "What happened to 
Jane?"

"I don't know. After the crash, it was every man for himself."

******

When Laywan returned from her short hunting trip and heard 
about the man's story, she collapsed - her worst nightmare had 
come true. By the time that she got to Tarzan's hut, he'd already 
gathered his spear, bow and arrows, a small belt filled with gold 
and left the village. Staring at the distant hillside that led to the 
mountain pass, Laywan whispered out loud "Good luck, my love. 
May the stars bring you back this way when your quest is ended."

Tarzan didn't stop to rest until he cleared the treacherous 
mountain pass where he had only traversed twice before - once as 
Jane when she was brought to the valley and the second time when 
Laywan carried him back from the waterfall.

The four years had brought a lot of changes to Tarzan. He now 
thought of himself only as Tarzan and as a normal man; preferring 
to shut out the old memories of his former life. That other life as 
Jane was so far and long ago that it no longer seemed real. There 
were the childhood memories of being Jane, of Jane's rich father, 
of Jane's friends and of course, Jane's father trying to mold the 
teenaged Jane into being the perfect Lady. There were the memories 
of putting on the delicate female underwear, fixing the long hair in 
the current style favored by English young ladies and the 
occasional flirting with some young man that her father arranged 
for her to meet with appropriate chaperones observing their limited 
contact. There were the memories of the panic from the first period 
which her nannies hadn't warned her about and the subsequent 
monthly flows as her small body filled out in its female 
metamorphose, rather than grow taller as her childhood friends 
were growing. There were the childhood memories of lying on her 
satin sheets and squeezing her small breast mounds, wondering 
the typical childhood adolescent dreams as she tried to figure out 
by herself what sexual enjoyment a man could find with her small 
and very delicate breasts. There were the typical teenage crushes 
that she had on some of the young men that she'd met and the 
silly games that they'd played, following the rules of the formal 
English society. There were the memories of the trek into Africa as 
Sir Walter's secretary, the fond memories back when he was 
Jane's friend. There were the memories of being deflowered by 
Mogu - her first lover, who was quickly followed by Nasroi, then 
Tarzan.

Those were the most difficult memories - the memories of being 
Jane with Tarzan. He could close his eyes and see the image of a 
naked Tarzan who expected his lovely young female named Jane to 
suck his cock. There were so many memories of that relationship 
that the current Tarzan frequently woke up, still feeling confused as 
to whom he was now. At first there were many dreams where he 
was still Jane and Tarzan was still his mate. Dreams that could 
only be vanquished by cupping his large pectoral chest muscles 
while stroking his cock to remind himself what was real and what 
was only a dream.

But as the years passed, the new Tarzan added more women to his 
list of bedtime companions as if he was driven to prove to himself 
that he was a virile man. Only Laywan knew that he did it because 
of the memories and that fucking his brains out almost every night, 
kept the old memories from returning.

The person pushing his way through the jungle was no longer the 
person that had been born Jane. This new person was a strong, 
broad-shouldered, muscled young warrior who felt that he was a 
man - Tarzan to be specific. This was a man who had accepted his 
destiny to be the gene pool for the mountain village that he loved. 
This was a man that accepted his body and new life.

But under that strong personality was hidden a mission. A mission 
that had been reawakened by the outlaw's return. A mission that 
he must resolve before he could sleep peacefully again. A mission to 
find Jane and to kill the bastard that took her away from here.

His mind was swirling will numerous ideals. Was she alive? And 
should he bring her back so that they could exchange bodies again 
- returning to their rightful body, sex and identity? Could he 
become a woman again? 

******

A month after leaving the village, he found the first clue that 
someone had survived. He had followed the river down the 
mountain, stopping in every village, quizzing the people to see if 
anyone had seen the old white man and/or young woman. Similar 
stories were told by several different villagers far downstream who 
remembered that a canoe had disappeared or some food about that 
time, but that was an almost everyday jungle occurrence. It wasn't 
until Tarzan arrived in a plains village that someone remembered a 
canoe passing down the river in the dark of the night with two 
white people in it four years before. Two weeks later in another 
village, Tarzan found someone who had talked to the mysterious 
canoe paddlers, describing both Jane and Sir Walter.

She was alive!! And they had made it this far. Tarzan speeded 
through several villages as he continued his down-river trek, 
discovering more people that had seen the old man and young 
woman. Looking at a map, Tarzan deduced that they were following 
the river until it ended at a seaport town, so he bypassed a lot of 
towns, stopping just every once in awhile to confirm that they had 
passed this way.

When he got to the seaport town, he discovered that they had 
checked into a hotel where they rested and bought new clothes as 
they waited on a passenger ship. They had booked passage on a 
ship that would transfer them to another ship that would transport 
them to England. The tickets, clothes, and room rent had been paid 
with gold, remembered the hotel clerk. He completely remembered 
the young attractive woman, being able to describe her as if it had 
only been yesterday that they passed through. The young clerk had 
been smitten by Jane's beauty and innocence. 

******

The ship's daily progress towards England seemed too slow for the 
now impatient traveler. Now that he knew that Jane had somehow 
survived the waterfall and was alive somewhere back in England, 
time seemed to drag as Tarzan worked his way back to England. He 
knew that it was easy to track two white people through a jungle 
full of blacks but that it would be almost impossible to track them 
through a white civilization after four years, so he would go first to 
Parker Mansion. If Jane wasn't there - well, he just knew that he 
would keep looking until he found her.

He purchased tickets on the fastest transports and found himself in 
Paris a little more than three weeks after catching the first tramp 
steamer from that small African port where he discovered that the 
two of them had also departed for England four years before. Prior 
to departing Africa, he bought some proper khaki clothes that he 
wore as he traveled so that he didn't out of place in his preferred 
loincloth. As soon as he arrived in Paris, he obtained a berth on the 
first England bound ship and used his few hours of spare time to 
buy a proper suit. The tailor wanted three days to make the suit 
but a small chunk of gold convinced the tailor to have the suit 
ready before the ship left the harbor.

A very different looking Tarzan walked down the gangplank at a 
southern English port. This Tarzan was wearing gray garbadene 
trousers, a gentleman's white shirt, tie, dress coat, hat and shoes. 
The shirt was the current French style with a little ruffle around the 
neck and sleeves. The tailor modified the coat so that there was a 
big pocket where Tarzan's ever-constant knife could be carried 
without being obvious. 

The worst part of his new outfit was the shoes. Tarzan's feet had 
never been encased in shoes and the many years of being 
barefooted had felt wonderful when compared with the stifling feel 
of new shoes on the feet. Even the long mane of hair which had 
only been occasionally trimmed with his knife was shaped up by 
the same barber that shaved his beard off, so that the man that 
walked down the gangplank looked like a rich and very proper 
young English gentleman. 

It was an overnight coach ride to London then a four hour coach 
ride from London to Parker Mansion - the home that a young and 
very na‹ve girl had left almost five years before. The closer that 
Tarzan got to his former home, the more tense he became. What if 
she wasn't there? How would he explain to Jane's father how the 
person that had born his daughter was now the strapping young 
man?

During the ocean travel, he'd made his mind up that he wouldn't 
reveal the truth to anyone - not even to Mary Ann, Jane's former 
best friend. No one would believe or understand what had occurred 
to transform the dainty young woman into the male warrior. And 
they also wouldn't understand why Tarzan would want to return to 
the jungle after he found Jane.

Chapter 7 - Home at last

The estate looked the same as it did on the day that he'd left 
almost four years before. He even recognized most of the field 
hands at work in the fields as the coach traveled down the long 
driveway to the mansion. The coach driver stopped the coach at the 
front door and a horse groomer came running to hold the coach's 
horses. From inside his coach, Tarzan recognized the groomer as 
his old friend Harry.

Harry petted the lead horse's nose which calmed the horse and 
helped keep the rest of the horse team quiet. For a moment, Harry 
stared into the coach and the two old friends locked eyes. But 
Harry didn't recognize the visitor and following the rules that 
governed Harry's very low place in English society, Harry bowed his 
head to show proper respect to the unknown visitor as he removed 
his cap.

Jane's father's long-time butler, James, opened the coach door 
and stepped aside so that the coach's sole passenger could 
disembark. Tarzan stepped out of the coach, still feeling slightly 
awed by the sensation of returning to his birth home. As he stared 
at the massive front facade of the Mansion, the butler asked 
"Welcome to Parker Manor. Who shall I tell my Lord is visiting his 
home today?"

Tarzan adjusted his coat slightly so that it was hanging correctly 
before he replied in a very sad voice "Please ask your lord for my 
forgiveness for showing up uninvited, but I've just arrived from 
overseas. Tell him that I'm a friend of his daughter from Africa."

"And your name, sir?"

"Tarzan."

The butler paused for a second then nodded his head, knowing that 
the unexpected visitor wouldn't volunteer any more information 
and that to ask more, would be socially unacceptable. The butler 
simply said "Please follow me, sir."

The elderly butler turned and walked toward the open front door. 
Tarzan followed him into the big house, remembering for the first 
time in a long time, how huge the house was. The butler opened a 
large set of double doors leading into the downstairs library and 
motioned for Tarzan to enter as he said in his most proper tone of 
voice "Please wait in here while I announce your arrival to my 
Lord."

Tarzan stepped into the room, feeling himself pulled back into time 
as he stared at the rows and rows of familiar books that he had 
explored as a child. He vaguely heard the sound of the butler 
closing the library doors because the books pulled him to the 
shelves. He ran his hands over the back of the books, enjoying the 
feel of seeing the several thousand books in his father's personal 
library. He remembered he'd once asked his father if he'd read all 
of those books and his father laughed at his daughter's na‹ve 
question before responding `Books are a symbolic representation of 
wealth that show that the owner can obtain all the knowledge in 
the world." He remembered that as a young child, he'd tried to 
read all of the books as he tried to absorb the knowledge contained 
within the pages.

The books brought back so many childhood memories that Tarzan 
was startled when the butler announced upon his return to the 
library "The master will see you in his private upstairs study. 
Please follow me."

Tarzan followed the butler down the hallway and up the long 
formal, winding staircase to the private quarters on the second 
floor. The butler opened the door to his father's study and stepped 
aside. Tarzan felt a tightness in his chest as he prepared himself to 
face his father. He had thought about his moment during the 
several weeks of travel, deciding that he wouldn't reveal his real 
identity to his father, that he would continue his impersonation of 
Tarzan.

A smile formed on his face as he prepared to greet the father - the 
father who he knew wouldn't recognize him in his new male body - 
for the first time in over five years, he stepped into the room. The 
smile faded from his face as he recognized Sir Walter Desmond 
sitting in his father's chair. 

******

Tarzan's hand immediately reached for the side where he always 
carried his knife in the loincloth, but because he was wearing the 
suit, the knife was in a hidden pocket within the suit. It took 
Tarzan a second to realize that the knife wasn't hanging where he 
always kept it.

That moment's pause saved the old man's life. As Tarzan's body 
tensed and his hand reached within the suit for his hidden knife, 
the old man said "I knew that you would come sooner or later, so 
I've been anticipating this day and have kept my affairs in order. 
Pray that you delay your stroke and listen to me before you kill 
me."

A snarl formed on Tarzan's lips as his hand wrapped around the 
familiar feel of the knife's handle. Four years of suppressed hatred 
spit out the words "Why should I allow you to live one second 
longer?"

"Because of Jane - the woman that we both love. Let me tell you 
what I did and why I did it."

Tarzan stared at the old man. The long bushy mustache and head 
of white hair had grown back in - the hair as long but not as thick 
as before. Except for a very noticeable scar across the forehead, Sir 
Walter looked exactly the same as he had the many times that they 
sat across from each other at the Safari dinner table. Holding back 
the anger, Tarzan's answer revealed his decision "Speak fast and 
true, knowing that you die before I leave this room."

A faint smile formed on the old man's lips "Fair enough."

The old man paused to lit his tobacco pipe, then holding the lit pipe 
in his hand as a pointer, started his tale "I'll admit that I was 
thinking irrationally back then. After all, all of my lifelong dreams 
had been destroyed. Instead of being the big explorer that was 
almost ready to return home to England with a trunk-load of 
discoveries, I was a slave to a bunch of female savages who decided 
that I - a person that had been honored by our good Queen - 
should be nothing more than a simple farmer in their social 
organization. I didn't come exclusively for their gold like that 
asshole Brad did, although at that time, I'll admit that the gold did 
sound good and would have been more than adequate proof of my 
discovery. The one person in that whole camp that I trusted, had 
been transformed from a proper lady into one of the savages. I knew 
that they had given her drugs to affect her sexual libido so when I 
saw her wearing their skimpy clothes, calling their men `husband', 
and running around with them carrying a spear like a savage, I 
knew that she had been brainwashed so that I couldn't even trust 
her anymore. So when Brad started talking escape, I knew that I 
had to assist him because he was probably going to be my only 
ticket out of that village. And when he pulled off the start of the 
revolt by capturing the guns, I felt such a euphoria that I allowed 
him to kill and pillage without any remorse - after all, they were 
only savages to me. It was only when he directed his wanton 
destruction against Jane that I slightly rebelled against his 
authority. I stopped him in the mine and left four guards to guard 
Jane that I trusted to be loyal to me, then went with him to get the 
gold while strongly urging him to leave the valley. As soon as he 
was far enough away from the village with the gold, I told him that 
we had forgotten some treasure that I would go back for while he 
proceeded on to the pass. He let me go because either way it meant 
more gold for him if I returned or failed to return. I returned to the 
mine, intending to take Jane with the small box of gold that was 
hidden there but to stay far back behind Bart until I knew that she 
would be safe. It scared the shit out of me to find my guards tied up 
by you. I untied them and went back into the mine, only to discover 
that you had left an injured Jane in the same area where we had 
hidden the small gold box. I could have killed the man guarding her 
but as soon as he became unable to fight any more, I spared his life 
and left with my two treasures - the gold box and Jane. I didn't go 
straight to the mountain pass because I knew better than to be 
near Brad with you loose and after us. We stayed hidden near the 
village and when we saw the villagers celebrate the death of most of 
Brad's men, I moved down to the river and began building my raft. 
I knew that I couldn't get out through the mountain pass and that 
the only potential escape was through the river. I told you that I 
was thinking irrational - only a fool would think that he could 
escape by going over the waterfall."

The old man paused, lifted a decanter of wine, poured some of the 
dark liquid into two wineglasses by his chair, then silently offered 
one of the wineglasses to Tarzan. Tarzan ignored his offer, 
remaining standing in front of the old man as the old man 
continued his story.

"I had some spies in the village that we could trust and they 
brought us food and told us about your great victory and how you 
were now hunting Brad. About the time that I finished the raft, my 
spies told us about your victory over the late Brad and your return 
to the village. I knew that you would look for us then, because you 
would find out on your return that I had Jane with me. I came close 
to releasing her because I felt so sorry for her. Brad had hurt her in 
the mine and she'd lost her memory - a total memory loss. I don't 
know how he did it because I only saw him beat you up - which I 
hope you know that I stopped. If I hadn't stopped him, you 
wouldn't be here now. As for Jane, I never did find out how she got 
hurt. She remember nothing from her life - her name, her parents, 
her home, me, you, or the life that she'd left behind - all of her 
beautiful life forgotten. In addition to the memory loss, she was still 
sleeping a lot and was confused most of the time in addition to the 
memory loss. At times she was like a little child - so trusting that 
she would follow anyone. As it got closer to the time that I knew we 
had to leave the valley - my men were considering surrender and 
your Amazons were getting closer to where we were hidden - I 
decided that I couldn't abandon Jane to those savages - or to you. 
It was one thing for her to decide to join them and live like a savage, 
it was quite another thing for her to forget who she was, to forget 
her noble parentage, and to become a savage because there was no 
one to save her. I didn't take her with me because I didn't want 
you to have her - I took her because I didn't want her to live like a 
savage in a muddy hut, her sole purpose in life being to bear 
children who would also live their lives as savages. I took her with 
me so that I could bring her back home to England, back to people 
who loved her and would treat her like the lady that I knew she had 
been. I knew that there was a good chance that none of us would 
survive the waterfall but I couldn't abandon her, preferring her 
death to her retrogression to being nothing more than a savage. As 
for the dangers of the waterfall, I had some engineer training when I 
was younger and I built the raft so that parts of it would drag as it 
fell, slowing the fall, then collapse and absorb most of the shock - 
or that was my theory. I tied the different logs together with jungle 
vines and used large thick nails that we made from some of the 
gold. I put her in the safest place in the center of the raft along with 
the box of gold and pushed off. You can imagine my shock as I got 
closer to the waterfall and saw you diving from one of the nearby 
cliffs. If you'd found us about two minutes earlier, you might have 
caught up to us before we went over the waterfall. Sure you don't 
want this glass of wine?"

The old man pointed to the glass that he'd poured for Tarzan, his 
own glass already empty. Tarzan shook his head no.

Sir Walter picked up the spare glass, declaring "I don't like to see 
good wine go to waste. Now where were we? Ah, yes, our journey 
over the waterfall. It was much rougher than I expected. The raft 
busted up in the rocks a little more than I expected and suddenly it 
was every man for himself. Blood was streaming down my forehead 
from this nasty cut that I picked up somehow, and my shoulder 
was dislocated so that I couldn't swim. I found myself hanging onto 
a moss covered rock on the side of the pool, knowing that there was 
no way that I could swim with my hurt shoulder. I knew it was over 
for me and I prayed that it had been a quick death for Jane. Then a 
hand grabbed me, pulling me to a more shallow rock. Through the 
blood covering my eyes, I recognized the slender hand as belonging 
to Jane. Over the roar of the waterfall, I screamed at her to save 
herself but she ignored me and pulled me across the mist-covered 
pool to a rock. Now that we were out of the mist, I could see a large 
chunk of my raft that had floated clear of the pool and got her to 
help me to that. As soon as we got on it, I collapsed and passed out. 
When I came to, it was nighttime and just the two of us were 
drifting down-river on the remains of the raft. Jane told me that she 
had also passed out and woke up a couple of times only to discover 
that the raft was still floating downstream. I deduced that only the 
two of us had escaped the power of the waterfall, and that we were 
several miles down-river from the falls in Momgua territory because 
of the swift current. After hiding from them in their swamps for over 
a month before, I didn't want to risk their discovery so I worked out 
a plan with Jane where we would travel at night and hide during 
the daytime. I wasn't badly hurt except for my shoulder which 
Jane re-set for me and this nasty gash on my forehead. She had 
survived the fall without an injury and was in the best spirits since 
her memory-loss accident. Her confusion was gone and she still 
didn't have any memories but she was able to laugh about what a 
wild ride it had been over the falls. While I healed over the next 
three-four nights, she paddled and controlled the raft as if she'd 
been born on a river. She caught fish as if she'd been raised in the 
jungle and it was only her survival skills that kept us alive. When 
my arm healed so that I could paddle also, the two of us would 
paddle at night, then sleep in some little hidden cove during the 
daytime. I'll admit that we survived only because of her jungle 
survival skills, because of those damn skills that she had learned 
during the short time that she lived as a savage. As we paddled, she 
asked me questions about her life and I told her everything that I 
knew about her life and about the type of life that she had as an 
English Lady. After we got completely out of the Momgua territory, 
we risked stealing a canoe and some proper native clothes for Jane 
one night from a river village, but only after we completely 
destroyed the raft. The raft had over thirty pounds of large 
handmade gold nails in it that we recovered as we destroyed it - the 
gold that we used to pay for our passage back to England. Jane's 
head injuries from Brad's attack in the mine healed so that she 
was almost normal except for her memory. As we traveled further 
away, she kept asking me questions about her former life and I told 
her what I knew - everything except anything about you or her life 
with you."

Tarzan reacted by taking a quick step closer as he pulled the knife 
from the coat. He fought the red wall of anger that roared through 
his body because he knew now why Jane had left Africa, as his 
hand tightly clinched the knife. The old man didn't react to the 
closing danger and when Tarzan regained control and slowly re-
seated the knife, the old man finished off the glass of wine, then re-
poured another glass.

"I also lied to her about her status in the village. I told her that we 
were both prisoners because I didn't want her to feel that she could 
return there if she desired. I wanted her to hate that place as much 
as I did so I lied about the way that they treated us. At the same 
time, I told her the truth about her home back in England - about 
how she was a rich and proper young lady who was looking for 
adventure before she returned home. After two or three weeks of a 
mixture of my lies and truth while we traveled, she was prepared 
and ready to return home, so that she could try to regain her 
memory. I promised her that I wouldn't rest until she was safe in 
her father's house. She looked at me as being her protector - her 
knight in shining armor. This new Jane was a different Jane from 
the two Janes that I knew - the young lady seeking adventure that 
had been my secretary and the wild semi-naked savage that ran 
around the jungle with a spear. This Jane was softer, lonely, and 
was looking for something - perhaps it was someplace to call home. 
Everytime that we stopped to rest, she would ask me to describe 
this house which I'd never seen. So I told her what I guessed it 
looked like, describing a big mansion with large rooms, soft beds, 
warm fireplaces and a good roof. She confessed that she wanted to 
get out of the jungle, to be able to sleep in her bed with satin 
sheets, to be able to feel safe at nights - all the normal dreams of a 
homesick young girl. I thought that she looked at me as being not 
only her protector, but also her wise and friendly uncle. So it was a 
surprise to me when she told me late one evening after we'd 
awaken from our daily sleep, that she didn't want to paddle yet, 
but wanted me to make love to her."

Tarzan's movements were a blur. He instantly crossed the room 
and picked up the smaller man by his suit coat, knocking the 
partial empty glass of wine from his hand and the large chair over 
onto the floor. He held the old man easily in the air with one hand 
as his other hand shook from the dual emotions of wanting to 
smash the old man's face in and to restrain his anger. After ten 
seconds of staring into each other's eyes from inches away, Tarzan 
let go of the old man who fell to the floor with a thump.

Tarzan stepped back from the old man sprawled on the floor and 
picked up the wine decanter from the table, then took a big swallow 
of the wine straight from the decanter. The old man stood up, 
straighten his clothes which were all bunched up around his neck 
and said "It appears that we've made a slight mess. Let me get 
someone in here to clean this up."

He walked across the floor to the bell-rope and Tarzan noticed how 
frail and slowly he moved. The four years hadn't been kind to the 
old man's health. About thirty seconds after he pulled the bell-
rope, the door opened and a maid entered - Mary Beth. The former 
best friend of the teenage Jane glanced at the unknown man 
standing in the middle of the floor holding the wine decanter, the 
overturned chair and the broken wine glass on the floor before 
looking very puzzled at the man that she recognized as her master 
now.

Sir Walter coughed, then said "I accidentally turned my chair over. 
Would you be so kind as to set it back up and to bring us another 
decanter of wine and two glasses for me and my friend."

She immediately righted the chair, then went to the bar and put a 
decanter and two glasses on a small tray. Sir Walter sat back down 
in his chair, then pointed to a nearby chair and suggested "Would 
you mind if I insist that you sit down? I have a crick in my neck 
and staring up at you hurts my neck."

Mary Beth quickly poured two glasses of wine, offering the first 
glass to the still standing unknown man. While the house had 
brought back many memories of life as Jane, staring into Mary 
Beth's confused face brought back so many more childhood 
memories. Her face had filled out over the five years and her large 
breasts were now obviously sagging so that she looked more like 
her mother, but the gray eyes still looked just as normal as always. 
For a moment, Tarzan stared into her eyes then she bowed her 
head in proper servitude as she held out the tray with his 
wineglass.

He accepted the wineglass and put the half-empty decanter on the 
tray in its place, resulting in a slight curtsey from the maid. She 
delivered the other glass to Sir Walter, then started to clean up the 
broken glass. Sir Walter stopped her with "Do that later, please. We 
have a lot to discuss."

She turned to leave, but allowed her eyes to stare at the unknown 
man again, her face slightly red as she blushed from some 
unknown reason. Then she curtsied to the two men and left the 
room.

Sir Walter nodded at the chair reminding Tarzan of his request so 
Tarzan sat down as the old man continued his story "Yes, she 
wanted me to make love to her. And not being a damn fool, I did it. 
I'd felt attracted to the young woman as soon as I met her when 
she first arrived in Africa. If there hadn't been so many years 
difference in our ages, I would've properly requested permission to 
court her at that time. One of my favorite memories of her is about 
a week after our safari started and a sudden rain storm soaked 
both of us, but she hadn't worn a bra that day. I knew from staring 
at the way that her soaked blouse wrapped around her perfect 
body, that it would be a long safari for me. And then much later, I 
saw her naked in the jungle, running around as if she'd been born 
there - her exposed skin all tanned and golden and so perfect. So 
three weeks of sharing a raft with her and being only inches away 
from her beautiful body that was still wearing only her scanty 
Amazon garb as we slept, had reduced my willpower. When she 
offered herself to me, I accepted her gift as if it was the most 
precious nectar of the gods. And it was - as you know. From that 
night on, we worked, slept and treated each other as man and wife. 
I was the Lord and she was my beautiful Lady. As soon as I could, I 
stole some native dresses and threw away her leather halter and 
began treating her as I would have treated my wife. As soon as we 
arrived at the seaport coastal town, I brought her proper clothes fit 
for a English woman and began teaching her how to act as a Lady. 
Because I didn't know the little things that only women know, I 
hired a woman who'd come to Africa as a nanny and was returning 
home, to reteach Jane the correct social skills. Jane picked up the 
skills quickly on the ship and was quite the proper young lady by 
the time that we arrived back in England, having learned how to 
master brushing her hair, putting on a little makeup and wearing 
her clothes properly. There were so many things that she had 
forgotten, simple little things that she couldn't remember, such as 
how to brush her hair. Jane's father was so happy to see her that 
we thought that he would never quit crying - his precious daughter 
had returned to him. When Jane held my hand and told her father 
how I'd saved her life, then how she'd given her heart to me; he 
welcomed me as his future son-in-law although I was two years 
older than him. There was a quick wedding and I became the heir 
to this estate."

Tarzan's voice quaked slightly as he asked "My father???"

Sir Walter looked at him puzzled for a second, then said "Jane's 
father died about five months ago. I'm the Lord and Master of 
Parker Estate now."

"Where's Jane?"

The old man rose to his feet, motioned for Tarzan to accompany 
him, and walked to the large window. Standing in the window, the 
old man pointed to the courtyard as he said "She never recovered 
her memory. You'll find her where she spends her afternoons in 
the courtyard, enjoying the fresh air and her flower garden."

Tarzan looked through the window, seeing the familiar garden, but 
his eyes quickly focused on the young woman sitting beneath a 
large canopy. He couldn't see her upper body because of the 
canopy, only her skirt.

Turning quickly, Tarzan walked out of the room, down the large 
staircase and out through the large double doors into the 
courtyard. He saw her sitting under the canopy as he approached 
her from behind. When he was about ten feet away, she turned and 
stared at him as he stopped to stare at her.

It was the same classic and delicate face that the former Jane 
Palmer had grown up with - only it really wasn't the same. The last 
time that the former Jane Parker seen that pretty face reflected 
back in a mirror or pool of still water, it'd been the face of a 
rebellious young girl still in her teens. This was the same face, but 
it was now the beautiful face of a young woman - a proper lady. A 
face that looked more like Jane's deceased mother than the 
somewhat submissive but still wild teenaged Jane that had ran 
away from this beautiful home.

Gone was the golden tan from the months of constant exposure to 
the hot African sun, replaced with the pale china-white complexion 
so favored by English nobles. The long mass of curled hair looked 
as if it had to be curled every morning by one of the maids with a 
hot curling iron to give it the many large and delicate curls of the 
latest hairstyles - a hairstyle of a Lady used to afternoon teas and 
formal dinners. The face appeared softer but it could've been part 
of the illusion caused by the makeup - a reddish rouge on the 
cheeks to give some color to the china-white flawless complexion, a 
touch of scarlet crimson on the lips and a little mascara to highlight 
the eyes. The same makeup that Jane's mother had worn and the 
face made up the way that the former teenage Jane had been 
taught in her finishing school so many years before. 

Dangling from each of the woman's ears were earrings, large 
golden earrings that were inserted through pierced ears that the 
tomboyish former Jane Parker had sworn so many times in her 
teenage years that her ears would never be pierced. As a young 
child, she had hated the thought of mutilating her body just to 
wear something that declared her to be a woman. Although Jane's 
Finishing School friends were very deep into the pierced ears look 
and associated earrings, it was something that Jane thought would 
only be a passing fad. 

The woman standing in front of him was wearing a long white 
crinoline skirt, hoops, and long sleeved, high-neck frilly white 
blouse with long puffed out sleeves. The skirt had several layers of 
frilly petticoats under it, giving it a full look that was pleasing but 
difficult to sit down in. The too-slender waist and slight evidence of 
corset stays indicated that the woman's body was completely 
encased in several layers of clothes. The clothes that the teenager 
Jane had hated to wear - the type of socially-acceptable formal 
clothes that her father constantly insisted that she wear. 

Around the woman's slender neck was a delicate string of pearls 
that Tarzan remembered had been a marriage gift from Jane's 
father to Jane's mother. The blouse was buttoned on the top 
button by a cameo pin that had been in Jane's family for years and 
left to her by her long-ago deceased mother. On her finger was a 
simple gold band - a wedding ring.

Tarzan had almost forgotten how small and dainty his former body 
was. He didn't have time to do any adjustment right after the body 
exchange and seeing his former body standing here, dressed like a 
Victorian doll, made it look so small and delicate. Also four years of 
being in a tall male body associating with the tall Amazon Women 
had adjusted his memory of his former body. His memory of his 
former body was that of a woman that was almost as tall as his 
eyes. Instead he was staring at a woman whose eye level was just a 
little above his nipple level. 

A smile formed on the young Lady Jane's face as she held out her 
slender hand so that her male guest could kiss the back of it in the 
proper greeting method "My maid told me that we had a handsome 
visitor from Africa. Welcome to my home. I'm Lady Jane Desmond 
and I understand that you've already talked to my husband. Please 
call me Jane."

A faint delicate aroma reached his sensitive nose which he 
recognized as an expensive French perfume. Tarzan didn't move as 
he stared at his former body, still finding it difficult to accept the 
fact that she didn't recognize her former male body or remember 
any of their short life together. Because he didn't follow the 
standard social protocol of kissing her offered hand as a greeting, 
she quickly dropped her hand and continued her greeting although 
her guest wasn't following standard protocols "Let me introduce 
the rest of my family. Lawrence, come here, please."

The head of a small boy popped out from between bushes. Then he 
ran across the grass into her skirt, wrapping his short arms around 
her leg as the small boy turned to face Tarzan. The young boy was 
about three to four years old and dressed in the new Buster Brown 
fashion - brown shorts, a white shirt with bow-tie, a little brown 
jacket, and brown shoes with knee-high white socks. His hair was 
parted in the middle and there was a smudge of dirt on his face 
where he'd been playing in the bushes.

Jane calmly wet the tip of her finger with her tongue and used that 
dampness to clean the smudge from his face as she stated in a very 
vibrant and positive tone of voice "Lawrence, this is Mister Tarzan. 
He'll be staying with us at least tonight and maybe longer 
depending upon his plans. Please welcome him to our home."

The little boy stepped forward timidly holding out his hand, then 
dropped his hand as he ran around Tarzan. Spinning around, 
Tarzan saw the little boy run up to Sir Walter who was just coming 
out the doors.

The woman's soft voice had a hint of frustration as she laughingly 
declared in the soprano voice that sounded so familiar yet so 
different "That boy's going to be the death of me yet. I hope that 
you forgive him his bad manners because of his youth."

As he turned to face her, he discovered that she had moved closer 
to him - so close that he could've touched her; her perfume almost 
overpowering him as its delicate scent filled his sensitive nostrils. 
She looked up at him, her face somewhat blank except for the 
formal smile that he knew that she used with strangers "I suppose 
that my dear husband told you about my complete memory loss 
while I was in Africa. So I hope you'll forgive me if I don't 
remember meeting you during my travels there. Are you planning 
on being in England for awhile?"

He stared into her eyes, trying to ignore the unfamiliar mascara 
and other eye-enhancing makeup that he had experimented with as 
a teenage female so many years before. He tried to ignore the 
impulse to take her into his arms and to kiss her, knowing that 
unacceptable act could drive her away before he really had a 
chance to talk to her. He tried to look deep into her soul, to try to 
find the hidden memories that he knew had to still be buried there. 
She looked back into his eyes, her dark eyes revealing nothing as 
she softly asked "How well did we know each other?"

Before he could answer, Sir Walter came up, holding onto the boy 
that was more interested in running away again than meeting the 
strange new man, interjecting "My dear, I hope that you've 
convinced our guest that he must spend the night. We've got so 
much to talk about."

She broke the eye contact as she smiled at her husband. Stepping 
over beside the old man, she expertly shifted the little boy's hand 
from his father's grasp to her small hand "Most assuredly. Now if 
you gentlemen will forgive me, I'll take Lawrence upstairs for his 
nap and see you gentlemen at Tea."

She held onto the boy's hand with one hand, while lifting her long 
skirt with the other hand as she walked away. Sir Walter sat down 
in one of the chairs under the canopy as he pointed at the 
departing woman and child declaring "As you can see, she has no 
memory - of you or her life before the waterfall. She doesn't even 
really remember the waterfall, only portions of the first couple of 
days coming down the river. I hope by now that you see that she's 
not the woman that you knew. That woman's long dead. This 
woman is a lady who enjoys her life on this estate and her family. 
She only remembers what her father and I have told her about her 
past life. Do you still plan to kill me? If so, it will only give you 
revenge and as you can see, it won't return her to you. She'll hate 
you and will use her vast fortune to hunt you down as if you were 
the villain."

A very quiet and contemplative Tarzan sat down across from the old 
man, knowing that the old man was right and that it was time to 
consider changing his plans.

Chapter 8 - The barn

Two hours of sitting with a very relaxed Sir Walter under the 
canopy didn't reveal any new facts. The old man discussed more 
details about Jane's new life as the young matriarch of her very 
proper and close family. Jane's father had spent a small fortune 
trying to find her. When Sir Walter returned with her, Lord Parker 
was so happy at her return, that he didn't care that Jane proudly 
immediately admitted to him that she was over three months 
pregnant and that her middle-aged protector was the father of her 
unborn child. Lord Parker quickly arranged a formal church 
wedding, publicly noting that the two `lovebirds' had a quick 
African wedding a few months before, which explained the soon 
noticed pregnancy. 

Although there was a big age difference, the `May-December' 
marriages were socially acceptable as long as it was within the 
same social classes. Lord Parker arranged for Jane's cousin and 
friends from the Finishing School to move in for awhile, while they 
`refreshed' Jane's memory to her personal history and social 
expectations. It was common knowledge that Jane had been injured 
in Africa and had lost all her memories; so the local people accepted 
Sir Walter as her rescuer and husband.  Everyone knew that Jane 
had changed because of her memory loss and they all did what they 
could, to help her feel at home and to try to remember her past life.

Near the end of their discussion, Tarzan told the old man that he 
wouldn't kill him yet - not that he wouldn't kill him but only that 
he hadn't decided when to kill him; and that he would observe 
Jane before he did anything that might hurt her.

It was with some trepidation that Tarzan followed the old man when 
the Butler announced tea time. He wanted to be with Jane and to 
talk with her, but this wasn't the Jane that he expected to find. As 
soon as he discovered back in Africa that she'd escaped, he'd 
imagined finding her still being held prisoner - otherwise she would 
have already returned to him. He dreamed about how he would 
come to England to rescue her and take her back to Africa where 
they would live happily every after. Only this Jane was a proper 
Lady who expected crumpets with her tea, preferred to be chic and 
well-groomed at all times, liked to sleep on satin sheets, was 
happily married to the man who had kidnapped her and was the 
contented mother of his child. 

It wasn't the Jane that he expected to find - a Jane with Tarzan's 
memories being held prisoner by a deranged old man. How do you 
explain to someone that's lived the happy life of a English Lady for 
the last four years, that has a husband and child, that they were 
born a man and lived most of their life as a savage? How do you 
explain to that same woman that the male body that you're 
currently inhabiting, is really her natural-born body and that her 
female body is really your natural-born body? And that you want to 
take her away from this life of ease and respect, to return her to a 
life as either a Amazon warrior or the main stud in a jungle village? 
This wasn't his Jane - instead it was someone completely different 
- a someone that he realized that he to start thinking of as Lady 
Jane - not just Jane.

The child complicated the matter. Sir Walter proudly claimed the 
child as his own, but had admitted that he didn't make love to 
Jane until three weeks after the waterfall and that Jane had been 
over three months pregnant when she arrived home. Even a first 
grade mathematics skill could figure out that a two month sea 
voyage and a two week river raft trip didn't really add up to over 
three months of pregnancy. The impregnation had to occur either 
when the real Jane was living with Tarzan or Nasroi. And Lawrence 
didn't look anything like Nasroi. Jane's body had been 
unknowably pregnant prior to the body exchange. So the real 
Tarzan had impregnated the real Jane and then through the body 
exchange, the real Tarzan had carried and delivered the child as the 
new Lady Jane. And both Lady Jane and Sir Walter accepted the 
child as the old man's child.

Naturally if Jane went back with Tarzan to the jungle, the child 
would go also, but how would that affect them changing back into 
their real body? The current Lady Jane had a well-established 
maternal nurturing pattern with Lawrence and a body exchange 
could damage that relationship. It was easy to see that not only 
would this tea-and-crumpet, prim-and-proper, satin sheets, 
pierced-ears and curled-hair Lady Jane be very reluctant to return 
to a savage Africa, but that she might also not want to return to her 
correct male body. 

****** 

Lady Jane had changed into a different dress - a dark velvet that 
contrasted her china-white complexion. It was just as long and 
formal, but it allowed her to sit bolt-upright in her stiff-backed 
Victorian chair and expose the correct amount of dainty ankle 
below her skirt. Her hair had also been brushed and combed 
differently so that it was more of an upswept hairstyle held in place 
with a mother-of-pearl barrette. Around her neck now was a gold 
necklace that contained a locket - the type of locket that could hold 
a picture of loved ones. Hanging from both wrists were expensive 
gold bracelets and there were several rings on her fingers. 

There were guests at Tea - Sarah who had been the young Jane's 
best friend from Finishing School and her husband - Captain 
Towers who was out of the military now but still preferred to be 
called by his former rank. As soon as Sarah entered the room, Lady 
Jane turned giddy. After the formal introductions of Tarzan to the 
new arrivals, the two women whispered and giggled like two 
adolescence teenagers as the men talked about some horses that 
Sir Walter had recently bought. Tarzan listened to the two men talk 
as his ears strained to listen to Lady Jane and Sarah as they sat in 
the corner with the boy as he played with some toys. Seeing Sarah 
like this brought back old memories of how dumb Sarah used to act 
back then and now Lady Jane was behaving very similar. After one 
little giggle and whisper session behind the fans that they used to 
shield their faces while they did their private girl talk, Sarah asked 
the handsome young male guest "Do you have a wife back in 
Africa?"

Tarzan told the truth "No." because there had never been marriage 
ceremonies within any of the numerous relationships. Sarah and 
Lady Jane immediately began whispering again as Tarzan 
recognized that they were scheming against him, knowing that they 
would probably try to pair him up with one of their unmarried 
friends. So it was good for him to ignore the two women and to 
concentrate on the discussion between Captain Towers and Sir 
Walter.

After several minutes of divided chatter, Lady Jane rang the bell for 
the maid. Mary Beth entered the room, carrying a tray filled with 
fresh tea. When she refilled Tarzan's cup, her face turned red as if 
she was embarrassed about something.

As soon as everyone had a fresh cup of tea, Lady Jane proceeded to 
be the proper hostess, pulling the men from their separate 
discussion into a common discussion. Using her skills as a hostess, 
she tried to relax a still-somewhat recalcitrant Tarzan as she deftly 
ensured that everyone participated in a friendly Tea Party. As soon 
as there was a lull in the discussion, she used her vivacious 
personality to provide a little gayety and humor to what could've 
been a very dull gathering. 

******

For Tarzan, dinner was just as awkward as the Tea. Tarzan was still 
dressed in his only clothes - the suit that he had purchased in 
France, with his jungle knife still hidden within it's hidden pocket.

Lady Jane had switched into a formal long dark evening dress that 
exposed her white shoulders and a little cleavage, but still kept her 
ankles hid from sight as any respecting proper Lady was supposed 
to dress. Around her neck was a diamond necklace that Tarzan 
didn't recognize from Jane's heritage so he assumed it had been a 
gift from Sir Walter. The necklace hung low on the china-white 
chest, reaching almost to the cleavage. Her shoulders were bare, 
but her wrists were covered to the elbows in gloves that matched 
the dress. Tarzan could see enough of her arms and upper chest to 
know that the muscles that the savage Jane Parker had worked so 
hard to build four years ago, had disappeared along with the tan 
that she had developed after months of the African sun. The finely 
dressed woman standing so proudly beside her middle aged 
husband was as soft and feminine as she could be.

Lady Jane sat at one end of the big table in the formal dining room 
and Sir Walter sat at the other. Sitting across from Tarzan was 
Sarah and her husband. And beside Tarzan - somehow a young 
unmarried woman named Margaret Wales who lived nearby had 
been quickly invited to dinner as his dinner partner. 

Margaret was a beautiful young woman and under other 
circumstances, Tarzan would've reacted to her presence and 
apparent ready availability. But the last three months of thinking of 
no one but Jane, and today's discoveries had tired Tarzan's mind 
so that he just wanted to eat a little food and rest - not sit at a 
formal dining table with a woman looking for someone to chase her 
in the standard English method that she was used to.

Mary Beth served dinner and seemed a little puzzled when Tarzan 
asked her if she had some meat that wasn't so overcooked - the 
meat was slightly pink and done on the outside. The dinner 
discussion switched to Tarzan as everyone but the hosts quizzed 
him about his life back in Africa, but he managed to sidestep some 
of the most difficult questions - how could he live among the 
savages, did they eat with forks, was it true that the women went 
around bare-chested, and other questions that he considered to be 
really dumb questions but which he answered with the appropriate 
social aplomb for his questioner's lack of real knowledge.

When dinner was over, he went straight to the guest bedroom, after 
politely turning down Margaret's suggestion to join her at a church 
social picnic on Sunday afternoon. He removed the suit and 
changed into the loincloth that felt better than the very 
uncomfortable suit and tie. Ten minutes after he laid down on the 
bed, he heard a slight noise. Sitting up in the bed, he saw that 
someone had shoved a note under his bedroom door. Picking up 
the note, he read:

	"Dress comfortably and be ready at 10 pm."

It wasn't signed but the flowing handwriting and slight trace of 
perfume indicated that its author was a woman - Lady Jane from 
the light perfume remaining on the note.

He removed the knife from his suit and laid back down on the bed 
as he waited. Within minutes, there was a timid knock on the door. 
He silently walked across the floor and opened the door, discovering 
Mary Beth. She stared at him as if she'd never seen an almost 
naked man wearing a loincloth and carrying a fourteen inch long 
knife before.

Holding her fingers over her lips in the time honored suggestion to 
be quiet, she turned and led him down the hallway to the servant's 
staircase which deposited them in the kitchen. He followed her 
through the kitchen and outside the house where they headed on a 
path that Tarzan knew could only lead to the barn. As soon as he 
was sure that they were far enough away where they couldn't be 
heard by anyone in the house, Tarzan asked "How is Jack?"

Mary Beth paused - a look of confusion on her face. Then she 
answered "Jack ran off with a former friend of mine that used to 
work here - a French maid named Dominique who had a shapely 
body that he preferred over my large body. I haven't seen him in 
over three years since the two of them quit the estate and ran away 
together. How did you know about him?"

Tarzan replied softly "It's a long story that I don't wish to tell 
tonight. Please continue."

Understanding that the semi-naked man wouldn't reveal any more 
details, she led Tarzan to the barn and back into the little stall. The 
place where the teenaged Jane had privately celebrated her 18th 
birthday with her real friends just before she had embarked on her 
African adventure. The current Lady Jane was sitting on a haybale, 
sipping a drink as she smoked a cigarette. She had changed from 
the beautiful evening dress into the comfortable but old dress that 
the younger Jane had liked to wear but that her father hated.

Lady Jane said "Thanks for bringing him down here." Mary Beth 
grinned and winked at her Mistress as if there was a hidden secret 
before she turned around to leave them along.

Tarzan sat down on a nearby haybale, keeping a little distance 
between him and his former body. She acknowledged his presence 
by declaring "Pour yourself a drink. I thought that we needed to 
talk in private and this is the best place that I know."

He poured a little of the alcohol into his glass as she continued "My 
husband is sound asleep. Normally he can handle drinking his 
wine but one glass of brandy and he's out like a light. So Mary 
Beth made sure that he constantly had enough Brandy so that he 
called it an early evening as soon as dinner was over. I know that 
you thought earlier today that the dodo-brained Sarah is my best 
friend, but my best friend has always really been Mary Beth. When 
my husband brought me back home and my father discovered that 
I had no memory of early life at Parker Manor, he filled the house 
with only the childhood friends that he wanted me to be around, 
thinking that he could now shape me into the proper little English 
Lady that he always wanted me to be. But he didn't know that I 
would sneak out here at night to be with people that I discovered 
were my real friends - Mary Beth, Harry, and Jack who would tell 
me the things that my father's friends weren't telling me. And 
that's why I asked you to join me out here. I know my complete life 
history except that sometimes I feel that there are some things that 
my dear husband doesn't want me to know about my life in 
Africa."

"Such as?"

She sat back on the haybale, spreading her legs wide open in an 
unfeminine movement as she made herself comfortable before 
answering "Such as who's the baby's father? I didn't suspect that 
I was pregnant until I was aboard the ship headed to England and 
didn't really confirm it until after I got here, but either Lawrence 
was born a little under eight months after conception or I had a 
very close boyfriend in Africa, besides Walt. Seeing as how my dear 
husband hasn't been able to duplicate the impregnation no matter 
how hard or often he tries with me, it appears that Lawrence's 
father might have been someone else from my forgotten Africa. Was 
it you?"

Not sure what to tell her, Tarzan hesitated a second then replied "I 
can assure you that in my entire male life, I've never had sex with 
you."

She puffed on her cigarette then asked "Do you know who the 
father of my child is?"

He sipped his drink, letting it burn his throat in the delightful way 
that good brandy burns, as he tried to come up with an acceptable 
lie before replying "I didn't know that you were ever pregnant until 
I saw the child today. I assumed it to be your husband's child."

She stared at him as she slowly let a trace of cigarette smoke 
escape her lungs "Bull shit. Who are you and how do we know each 
other?"

"That's not a very lady-like response."

"When I'm with my husband, I'm one hundred percent a Lady. 
When I'm with people that I consider to be my real friends, I 
usually ignore the proper etiquette and speak frankly. Would you 
prefer that I go back to being the giggling dodo brain that you've 
seen all day?"

"No, I like this open relationship better. As for your question - let it 
suffice for now to know that we were in similar circumstances in 
the jungle. You escaped with the help of the man that you've 
accepted as your husband and I learned to live the life that was 
forced upon me."

A twinkle gleamed in her eye "Aha. So there is a mystery about my 
jungle life that my husband refuses to tell me and that you don't 
want to reveal yet. What do I have to do, to get you tell me the 
truth? Do you want me to let you fuck me? Would you tell me if I 
gave you a blow job?"

Tarzan thought for several seconds, knowing that if the 
circumstances were reversed, he would seek the same answers, but 
at the same time recognizing that the truth can hurt.

After ten or twenty seconds of silence, Tarzan began talking, not 
really knowing where he was going, except that he wouldn't tell the 
whole truth at this time "We were lovers, but there were at least 
three men that shared a bed with your body back during that time. 
There was an outlaw gang that tried to rob and pillage the village - 
that's how you got hurt and lost your memory. I fought the gang 
and Sir Walter took care of you. There was this big waterfall and the 
two of you went over it while we were fighting the outlaws. I thought 
that you had died and gave up on ever seeing you again; but 
somehow the two of you escaped. Recently I discovered that there 
was a slight chance that you lived through the waterfall and came 
looking for you. That's it."

She tilted her head back slightly as if she was examining something 
then responded "People can be lovers without having relationships. 
I hope that my personality back then was strong enough so that I 
just didn't let anyone in my bed. Were we close?"

"The jungle tribe believed in everyone pulling their own weight and 
your body was part of their breeding program, so you were mated 
with whomever the `hero' of the moment was. I became one of your 
lovers after your then-current's lover's time was up. We were close 
- close as defined as we liked each other and enjoyed each other's 
company; but there was never any real or longtime commitment 
between us. There was a strong sexual attraction between us." 

She stood up and dropped her cigarette on the floor, putting it out 
with one practiced motion before she walked across the few feet 
between them. Tarzan was still sitting on the haybale so his eye 
level was a few inches below your eye level. They stared into each 
other's eyes for several seconds before she softly exclaimed "I 
suspected something like that. When I first saw you today, I found 
it difficult to stare at your face instead of at your cock. I felt a 
strong urge to undress you so I escaped with Lawrence while I 
thought about my unusual feelings. I thought that it was only me 
that you were arousing, but Mary Beth assured me that just about 
every young woman in the household was feeling the same way. 
Later when Sarah and I were whispering, Sarah was trying to figure 
out some way to spend the night then accidentally wander down 
the hallway to your room, but I headed that off. Not that I wouldn't 
mind seeing a little active sex around here, but as a proper Lady, I 
have to control the local gossip. As for us, I knew that you figured 
prominently in my past somehow but wasn't sure how. I hope you 
understand but when I lost my memory, I also lost that past and 
don't have any desires to re-open that period of my life. No matter 
how close we were back then, that part of my life is dead."

"I understand," whispered Tarzan's baritone voice as they stared 
into each other's eyes. "a lot of water has passed down the valley 
and neither of us are the person that we were back then. I 
understand the reason for your request and will respect it. I wish 
your husband a long life so that he may enjoy the company of his 
beautiful wife and young son." 

"Thank you. I've always felt that there was something that Walt 
wasn't telling me and your story just filled in some of those gaps. I 
won't let my husband know that I know the truth. I've got to go 
back to the house before he wakes up and discovers that I've 
missing. How long are you staying with us?"

"I'll be leaving in the morning - back to my home in Africa."

A faint smile appeared on her face "I thought as much. Promise me 
two things - stay until after breakfast and when you get back to 
your room, you'll find a gift. The gift is a special gift from me to you 
and I want you to take it back to Africa with you. I know that you'll 
enjoy it and make appropriate use of it. Consider it as my gift for 
caring enough about me to come all this way and then to turn 
around and go back home. No matter how weird my request 
sounds, promise me that you'll do that."

Tarzan nodded, knowing that he wouldn't break his word to her.

******

The gift in his room was a naked Mary Beth in his bed. She was 
completely naked and waiting for him. As soon as he saw her, a 
faint smile appeared on his face as he remembered his promise to 
Lady Jane to take his gift back to Africa with him.

Four years of living as a man in a communal relationship with a lot 
of the Amazon Women had taught Tarzan a lot about making love, 
but Mary Beth wrote a new chapter in his book that night. Not only 
was she the largest woman that he'd ever bedded but she also had 
the biggest breasts and the tightest vagina that he'd ever 
encountered. Her barrel shaped chest was almost too big to reach 
around her and her large breasts were bigger than a nursing 
woman's breasts. Between his aggressive pounding and her equally 
enjoyable reaction, they broke the wooden bed slats so that it fell to 
the floor.

Daylight found Tarzan sleeping alone on a mattress on the floor. He 
had slept the sleep of the exhausted - finally finding rest in the 
loving arms of his childhood best friend after his long travel.

When he woke up, he cleaned himself and dressed in his only 
clothes; then went downstairs to finish his promise - to leave after 
breakfast.

Sir Walter, Lady Jane and little Lawrence were already waiting for 
him in the breakfast room. A smiling Sir Walter held his pipe in a 
reflective manner as he mused out loud "Sounded like the worst 
storm that ever hit this estate last night. Between the booming 
thunder and other noise, I didn't sleep a wink. I hope that you had 
a better night than I did?"

Lady Jane's voice hinted of suppressed laughter as she chided her 
husband for his slightly off-color remark "Walt, please not in front 
of the child!"

"Best that I've slept in months." Responded Tarzan as Mary Beth 
came into the room with a breakfast tray. Mary Beth's face was 
slightly red - either from embarrassment or cooking.

The rest of the morning was spent as if Tarzan was a long lost close 
relative. He played with the boy, wresting and allowing the boy to 
win as they played their games. Occasionally Lady Jane would 
participate in some of the chasing, lifting her skirt as she dainty 
ran around the furniture, giggling like a teenager as her son caught 
her or tagged her. 

By mid-morning, Tarzan's coach was ready to leave but he wasn't 
ready. There was something about being back home, about being 
with Lady Jane, about being with the boy that been conceived as a 
result of sex between a very young Tarzan and Jane in their real 
bodies, about being here and feeling as if he belonged here. 
Somewhat reluctantly, he allowed himself to be escorted by his 
hosts to the front lobby where Lady Jane asked her husband "I've 
enjoyed our guest's visit and would you mind if I gave him a proper 
send-off?"

Sir Walter nodded and she stepped forward, tilting her head as she 
rose on her tiptoes, offering her lips to Tarzan. He bowed his head 
and their lips met for five seconds, then she pulled away as she 
whispered "Take good care of your gift. She'll be a good mother to 
your children."

Chapter 9 - The letter

Tarzan honored Lady Jane's request by treating Mary Beth as if 
she was his wife as they traveled, not a servant. People looked at 
him funny because here was a handsome, very virile young man 
with a very large woman that was larger than most big men. But he 
did it because Mary Beth was his childhood best friend, even 
though she didn't know his real identity. By the time that they got 
to the little sea town, she was very happy because she was carrying 
his child. She was happy because for the first time in her life, a 
man was treating her with respect and like a woman; not like an 
overgrown cow. 

The pregnancy, combined with the heat, combined with the rough 
in-land trek caused the two month journey to take over three 
months. But Tarzan stayed with her, taking his time, letting her 
travel only as far as she could handle each day.

As expected, the whole village was excited to see them and to 
welcome their new sister - Mary Beth - to their village. Mary Beth's 
huge size impressed everyone as they considered the potential 
future generations of children from her offspring. Mary Beth didn't 
go completely native as Jane originally did, but did go somewhat 
native by offering to willingly participating in their mating customs.

One week after her arrival in the village, Mary Beth opened her 
small suitcase and removed a envelope which she handed to 
Tarzan, simply saying "She asked to wait until now to give it to 
you."

Tarzan sat down on a rock and opened the envelope that still bore 
light traces of her perfume. He read:

My Dear Tarzan,

I've just returned from the barn and am trying to 
compose myself so that I can logically write the things 
that I want to tell you but can't tell you in person. It 
hurts to look at you and to pretend that you're only a 
guest.

By now, you and my best friend are away from here 
and back in the jungle at the place where my dear 
husband has done everything to help me forget. Before 
you read any further, I know who I really am and who 
you really are - I don't remember anything about the 
body exchange but I remember my life as a young man 
- as the savage that grew up in the jungle and was 
known as Tarzan. I knew about the chalice and as I 
began to remember things from my former life, I 
guessed what occurred in the mine and why it 
occurred. When you showed up here, I knew that it 
was time to write this letter, which I've begged Mary 
Beth to not give you until a week after your arrival 
back in the jungle.

Where shall I start? How about the few things that I 
remembered when I first stared at my new reflection in 
the water? How about if I start with my earliest 
memories of this female body?

I vaguely remember going over the falls and then 
fighting for my life in the churning water. Something 
happened - maybe I hit my head - that snapped me 
out of my confusion but my memory was still lost. I 
remember seeing an almost drowned old man floating 
by me and I grabbed him and pulled him to shore, not 
knowing who he was or my relationship with him. He 
was hurt but insisted that we quickly get away from 
the waterfall so I grabbed a large chunk of our busted-
up raft and pushed us out to where the swift current 
took us downstream. Although he was hurt and 
couldn't take care of himself, let along me, he kept 
trying to take care of me. And he seemed to know me 
because he kept calling me Jane. That name meant 
nothing to me because I didn't remember anything 
about my previous life or who I was. But it was 
apparent that he knew me and that he had some 
strong reason that we should get out of that area as 
fast as we could. So I took care of him as we floated 
downstream. 

I knew that I was a woman because I had tits hanging 
from my chest and could see my reflection in the 
water. It felt funny to have tits but there were other 
things that also felt different. I felt so small and fragile 
as if I had shrunk. I also felt weak because I tried to 
pick the old man up and discovered that I wasn't as 
strong as I thought that I should be. And it didn't feel 
right when I squatted to pee. All those differences, but 
the tits were the most noticeable because of the way 
that they jiggled and constantly reminded me that I 
was a woman. 

I got the raft a couple of miles downstream and found 
a place where I could examine his wounds. It was 
nothing serious, just a dislocated shoulder and several 
cuts. Now that we had a few moments to relax, I asked 
him who was I?

He told me that I was a English Lady that had joined 
his expedition and that both of us had been captured 
by the savages. He told me that I had been hurt by 
them and he rescued us but the only way out, was 
over the falls. He told me that they would be looking 
for us and that we had to get further away as we hid 
from them.

Everything that he told me sounded logical so I 
believed him. As I guided the raft further downstream, 
I asked him more details about my life. Over several 
days and nights, I asked him all the questions that I 
could think of and he kept telling me about my life 
back in England. None of what he said, sounded 
familiar, but it sounded so good that I wanted to 
believe him. He told me about my big estate, about my 
rich father, about my big bedroom and my pampered 
existence. 

I had doubts about some of the stuff that he was 
telling me because it didn't sound familiar. I found it 
difficult to believe that I was a rich English woman 
because after all, I was dressed in only a native leather 
halter and riding a raft in the middle of Africa. But I 
wanted to believe him because it all sounded so 
wonderful - like a fairy tale.

I wanted to sleep in a big bed with satin sheets hating 
my nightly bed made of freshly gathered grass. I 
wanted to have someone wait on me, rushing to honor 
my every request. I wanted to have a big room of my 
own where I could sleep safely, not having to worry 
about snakes or other dangerous animals. I wanted to 
be this person that he kept telling me that I was. Over 
several days of listening to him, I knew that if I wasn't 
the person that he was describing, that I would 
somehow become that person. So I answered to the 
name that he called me --Jane - even though I didn't 
think it was my name.

After a week of drifting down-river at night and resting 
in a small cove during daytime, we became very close 
friends and I began to feel different as I looked and 
talked to him. I forgot about the large age difference 
between us and I began to react to him as if we were 
Adam and Eve - a man and woman all alone. 

I know now that it was a simple matter of hormones 
but I began to feel attracted to this old man. I began to 
tease him, easily recognizing that he was reacting to 
my obvious lush female body the way that I wanted 
him to react. I knew that he wanted me but wouldn't 
touch me - it wasn't the proper thing for a English 
gentleman to take advantage of a temporary disposed 
Lady. But in his eyes, I could see that he wanted me - 
almost more than he wanted to escape the jungle that 
he hated so much. My teasing was slight at first - a 
simple girlish flirtation where I would expose a little 
cleavage as I faced him, or not get completely out of 
sight as I daily bathed my naked body so that he could 
see me. 

After several days of waiting for him to make a move, I 
did it. I let him have me because I wanted to see what 
it was like. I know now that I wanted him mainly 
because of my curiosity to see what it was like to make 
love; but at that time, I had a strong sexual attraction 
toward him.

You see, I had explored my body and knew what it 
looked like but couldn't remember what it felt like to 
have sex. The very first night after we escaped from the 
waterfall, while he slept, I undressed and examined 
myself seeking some clue to my identity, seeking 
something that looked familiar. I knew that I had a 
nice set of boobs, a tight little vagina and from the way 
that I could explore so deeply with my finger within my 
vagina, that I wasn't a virgin. But as I played with 
myself, I had these weird flashes of memories of a 
forgotten sex life that didn't go with my female body. 
For the first week, I frequently slipped away while he 
slept and played with myself so that I became quite an 
experienced masturbater, but at the moment of 
orgasm, I always imaged a big cock sticking out of my 
body, spurting away gobs of cum. I wanted to make 
love to Walt to see if I still had that same dream when I 
was with the real thing.

While Walt had some age on him, I discovered that he 
could still get it up and keep it up long enough to 
provide me some relief from the physical and mental 
sexual desires that I was experiencing at that time. He 
couldn't give it to me as long or as frequently as I 
really desired it, but he was able to make me feel like a 
woman. Also his cock was smaller than I wanted, but 
he knew how to use what he had to really please me. I 
still remember lying on that bed of jungle grass the 
first time that we made love, my legs spread wide 
open, my ass coated with our mixed body fluids, our 
flushed bodies coated with sweat and wondering why 
we hadn't done this days sooner. Over the next several 
days, we tried to make up for lost time, like two 
teenagers on a desert island. 

Within a couple of days of sharing my bed with Walt, 
my unusual fantasy of having a cock faded away as 
my lover proceeded to make a real woman out of me. I 
did it all, letting him take in every position and even 
showing him some new ones that I didn't remember 
how I learned them. I discovered that I loved sex and 
couldn't get enough sex. It was difficult for Walt to 
keep up with my demands because I was in my prime 
and he was a middle-aged man who'd recently been 
hurt, so I spent a lot of our cuddle time working him 
into an erection, using whatever it took, which was 
usually my mouth.

The first time that I let my lips touch his cock, I 
unexplainably shuddered as if I was breaking a long-
time taboo, then I did it, enjoying the final result - a 
fully functional erection. As for Walt, he became like a 
spring chicken - banty rooster that is. He couldn't get 
enough sex either although he could only get it up 
once or twice a day. After the separate beds barrier 
between us had been removed, he was quite the horny 
little man. I discovered that I liked sucking his cock 
because he reciprocated by eating my pussy. I 
discovered that I liked having a cock shoved into me, 
whether it was my mouth, my ass or my pussy, I 
didn't care. I just wanted to be fucked and accepted it 
where ever I could get it and as often as I could get it.

I was very horny at first and wanted it at first at least 
ten or twelve times a day which was about nine or 
eleven times more than Walt could oblige me. So he 
made me what we called a happy stick. If he was too 
tired or couldn't get it up after a little foreplay, he'd 
used the happy stick and his tongue to bring me to a 
couple of orgasms. 

When we weren't fucking, we were drifting downriver, 
still trying to get as far away as we could. Like a good 
wife, I cooked and took care of us. Somehow, I knew 
how to hunt, fish and how to dodge the natives that 
were all around us. It was my survival skills that got 
us down the river without dying of hunger or being 
discovered by nearby villages. 

After one midnight raid on a nearby village for salt, 
Walt returned with a native cotton dress and 
requested me to wear it instead of my leather clothes. 
It felt just as funny to put on the dress as it did to 
make love the first time. I looked at my reflection in 
the water and liked what I saw - a beautiful young 
woman wearing a plain dress and I imagined what I 
would look like in the proper clothes. Although I kept 
my old clothes for several more days, I only wore the 
dress because I like the way that it felt on me and the 
way that I looked. I liked the flowing skirt and the feel 
of it swishing about my legs. Wearing the dress and 
looking at my image in the water made me feel 
something that I thought was homesickness. The 
simple native dress refreshed my desire to know about 
the life that I had forgotten. I constantly asked him 
about my former life and built all these daydreams 
about my former life.

Every once in awhile, I'd get a flashback and 
something wouldn't seem right. Like when I was 
sucking Walt's cock or feeling him pound his balls 
against my ass as he fucked me or having him suck on 
my boobies as he called them. There were other things, 
such as looking at my reflection in the water and not 
seeing anything that I really recognized. Neither my 
body nor my face looked familiar for a long time. Or I'd 
be hunting and feel this pent-up desire to sneak upon 
my prey like a big cat. I'd have flashbacks of hunting 
wild animals but it wouldn't be me - the female me, 
that is. It would be a naked wild man - a savage that 
was doing the hunting.

I tried to forget the flashbacks because nothing made 
any sense. I decided that my injury had caused those 
flashbacks and ignored them as I ignored my dreams 
of anything but life in England.

When we got to the coast, I knew that something was 
wrong, but wasn't sure what. I hadn't had a period 
since I regained my memory. As for Walt, I didn't tell 
him and continued to let him do what he enjoyed the 
best - taking care of me. 

We'd salvaged some gold so he immediately bought 
new clothes for me and had someone fix my hair for 
me. The first time that I saw my fixed-up reflection in a 
mirror, I knew that was what I wanted to look like. I 
eagerly discarded my native dress and bought some 
slips, some panties, some petticoats, some proper 
fitting shoes with two inch high heels and some pretty 
dresses. The woman that fixed my hair, trimmed it and 
shaped it into what she thought was the current style 
and showed me how to apply makeup. The first time 
that I looked at the reflected image of the very properly 
dressed young woman, I had the weirdest sensation - I 
wanted to fuck myself. I felt the strongest sexual desire 
to look at myself and to dress myself in appropriate 
finery. When I got back to the hotel room with Walt 
after that day's shopping, I gave him the best fuck of 
his life and he surprised me by getting it hard twice. I 
was wearing garters to hold my stockings up, still had 
my high heel shoes laced to my feet, and my slip. He 
declared that it was the best that he ever had and I bit 
my lip as I knew that it was the best for me also.

I got him up early the next morning and had him take 
me back to the shops where I tried on a new dress and 
experimented with my appearance. That evening, he 
took a very stylist dressed young woman out to dinner 
and dancing at the best establishment in town - the 
military officer's club. Every one of the young officers 
was fawning over me, trying to impress me, trying to 
get into my panties. I enjoyed it. I enjoyed the 
attention, the teasing and the way that they treated 
me. I enjoyed being on the dance floor and knowing 
that I could have any man that I wanted. 

When I left the club that night with Walt, I knew that I 
left several young men with broken hearts. The next 
day, one of the young men found some excuse to visit 
me at my hotel while Walt was down at the docks. I 
met him in the lobby and we sipped our tea and 
discussed the weather. Then without knowing why I 
did it except that I was feeling very horny, I asked him 
if he would like to rent a room for afternoon. In his 
room, I let him kiss me.

Walt's not a big man but he's the perfect size for my 
small body. When we kiss or curl up together, we're 
the ideal size match-up. But this young man was tall, 
broad-shouldered and had a well-built body. I had to 
stand on my tiptoes, lean my head far back and he 
still had to stoop to kiss me. As we kissed, I pressed 
my body against his body and could feel his large 
erection pressing against my belly button. I didn't 
object as his hands cupped my ass or my boobs. I kept 
kissing him as he lifted me up so that our faces were 
level as he carried me to the bed. I knew it was wrong 
but I wanted him.

He laid me on the bed and stood over me as he 
unbuttoned his shirt. My strong desire to be fucked by 
him immediately faded - simply because he had a 
hairy chest. I stared at his mat of chest hair and flat 
muscular chest and had an anxiety attack. Something 
about his manly chest was wrong and I couldn't go 
any further. I jumped to my feet and managed to get to 
the door before he caught my wrist. He was calling me 
names like `whore' and `bitch' as he dragged me 
back toward the bed. I struggled against him but his 
stronger strength was too much for my weaker and 
smaller body. He threw me on the bed and lifted my 
skirt to pull down my panties declaring that he `was 
going to take me'. Somehow I sneaked in a lucky kick 
and caught him in the balls. While he doubled up in 
pain, I ran out of the door and back to my room.

In the privacy of my room, my rapidly beating 
heartbeat returned to normal and I questioned myself 
as to why I went with him and why I was so suddenly 
turned off. I decided that it was a combination of my 
body wanting to see what it was like to fuck someone 
closer to my own age and my mind wanting to be 
faithful to Walt. I didn't realize for a long time that the 
real reason that I rejected him, was because his hairy 
chest reminded me too much of my old chest.

I was happy when we boarded our ship, quickly 
discovering that it opened up a whole new world to me. 
I discovered that I could enjoy being a tease with 
young men if I saved my frustration and allowed Walt 
to satisfy me later.

I enjoyed sitting at the Captain's table, flirting with 
the young men, being with other young women my age 
and talking about the various men who were chasing 
after us in a socially acceptable chase method. I 
discovered that I enjoyed the idle and witless chatter of 
several women sitting around talking. I could lose 
myself and feel more at home at being the person who 
Walt kept telling me that I was. 

I met a young woman on the boat who I liked and we 
quickly became good friends. Like me, she was with an 
older man - it was a marriage arranged by her family. 
Because Walt and I were sharing a cabin, we 
pretended to be married. After all, we were sleeping 
with each other, so pretending to be married stopped 
some of the rumors. So as our two older men sat in the 
lounge and smoked their cigars, we two young women 
teamed up to prowl the ship as we pranced about in 
our finest clothes. We allowed young men to talk to us 
but we maintained the acceptable social distance as 
we flirted.

I enjoyed going to the bathroom with another woman 
and sneaking a quick smoke as we fixed each other's 
hair or freshened our makeup before we returned to 
our tables. I enjoyed sitting in our cabin with her, both 
of us in our slips and talking about our lovers. I made 
up some lovers because I wanted her to think I was 
more experienced than I really was. I enjoyed sipping 
wine with a woman who was in her underwear just as I 
was, smoking cigarettes in the privacy of a locked 
cabin, telling lies about our lovers, and then dressing 
ourselves up so that we could walk along the social 
deck as if we were the biggest prudes in the world.

He hired a nanny to spend a couple of hours every day 
to teach me the social graces and all of the unique 
women skills that I needed to know. I learned which 
fork to use, when to curtsy, and how to blush when a 
man told an off-color joke. I learned how to wash, 
comb, and brush my hair in different styles to match 
my wardrobe or the occasion. She taught me how to 
apply makeup and take care of my body because I 
revealed my menstruation worry to her. I still didn't 
have a period and she helped me with my calculations 
so I knew when the baby would probably be due if I 
have a bloody panty mess soon.

When we arrived in England, I couldn't wait to get to 
Parker Mansion. I had to see the big house that I'd 
built so many daydreams over. As we rode up the 
driveway, I didn't want to get out of the carriage 
because the house was more than I really expected. My 
reality was better than my daydream. And my father? 
He was so happy to see me that he wouldn't have 
cared if Walt had been a black man.

Daddy was concerned about the difference in our ages, 
but he didn't really care as long as I was happy. And I 
was so happy that I couldn't stand it. On my journeys 
here, I slept in some big beds in some nice hotel rooms 
with nice sheets, but nothing compared to my first 
night in my large and luxurious bedroom at Parker 
Manor. That night after a very strenuous and exciting 
love-making session with Walt in my new bedroom, I 
told him that I was pregnant - that he was the father 
of my unborn child.

I thought that he walked around like a horny banty 
rooster before but now his chest was puffed out as if 
he was the greatest man in the world. And he was - to 
me at that moment. He had returned me to a life that I 
had forgotten. A life that I enjoyed and wanted more of.

The next morning, Walt stood beside me as I told my 
father, who fidgeted a little, then hugged me and 
congratulated Walt before Daddy started talking 
marriage. I left the two men to work out the details 
and returned to my room where I had my first little 
talk with Mary Beth. I liked her and tried to let her be 
my best friend but Daddy wouldn't let me, so I kept 
our relationship as Mistress and Maid for awhile. He 
wanted Sarah to be my friend and I discovered that I 
liked playing games with her to see which one of us 
could be the silliest. I was playing but she never 
realized it. We would giggle and talk like two teenage 
girls out on a first date.

My hastily arranged wedding was a wonderful 
wedding. I had a beautiful, white wedding gown with a 
long train. As I marched down the church aisle, 
staring at the hundreds of people who had come to my 
wedding, I knew that my life was now perfect. It didn't 
bother me that Walt was older than my Daddy because 
my life revolved around my new life. I enjoyed the 
endless parties, dancing with the young men, and 
being the belle of the ball, than going home with Walt 
who satisfied my sexual desires with either his penis 
or his happy stick. 

As my pregnancy became more noticeable, the social 
events started changing. I was given showers and baby 
gifts as other mothers advised me on taking care of my 
unborn child. My position in life among the local 
women was changing. I was no longer the young 
woman but a mother-to-be. My circle of friends 
expanded, including many women that I really liked. 

It felt so wonderful to have a full belly and to walk 
around feeling the little fellow kicking. I knew from the 
beginning that it would be a boy. As my hormones 
started giving me motherly instincts, I started building 
a nursery, taking my old nursery and re-decorating it 
to fit my unborn son. At night I would lay in bed with 
Walt and think about how far I had come - 
remembering the days that I dressed in native clothes 
and ran around like a savage; then smiling as I 
thought about my new life, my new husband, my 
wonderful home and my unborn child. I would curl up 
next to my husband and relax as his hands explored 
my body, enjoying the feel of the baby within me. 

Our love-making changed. I realized that from the first 
that we had done nothing but fucked each other. Now, 
we were making love. We slowed the pace down and 
enjoyed each other more, spending more time enjoying 
little things like curling up in bed together, whispering 
sexy comments in each other's ears, or just touching 
each other. I put my happy stick away because my 
husband was able to satisfy me now on a more 
frequent basis. 

I still had some flashbacks but ignored them. After all, 
everyone has weird dreams occasionally. 

And then Lawrence was born. I remember lying in my 
bed, surrounded by mid-wives, my bottom propped up 
with pillows and my legs spread wide open as everyone 
took turns fingering me. The pain was intense but 
something other than the baby kept pushing itself 
forward - my memories. 

I went into labor and began screaming at the top of my 
voice but a lot of my screams weren't from the pain, 
but from the realization that I had been born a man. 
The delivery pain pushed all or a lot of my forgotten 
memories forward from wherever they were hidden. It 
was like a dam bursting as my mind was deluged with 
all of those forgotten memories. All of a sudden I knew 
that I was really Tarzan and that somehow I was in 
Jane's female and very pregnant body. I knew that my 
life for the last eight months was a lie. I knew that the 
real Jane was back in Africa in my body and I was 
spread-eagled on a bed with a hell-of-a-big-baby 
forcing its way out between my legs.

After the baby was born, I was scared and weak. I 
refused the baby at first because seeing it would add 
some more realism to my predicament. I knew now 
who I was and what had probably happened to turn 
me into the woman that I'd been fucking. I knew that 
the baby was really my own baby - conceived from my 
male sperm that I shot into my woman's body and 
then carried within my new female body all those 
months. I knew that I was really a man and had only 
been playacting all those months.

I was very depressed and the doctors thought that it 
was normal because a lot of new mothers get 
depressed immediately after childbirth - something 
because of the attention is now focused on the baby 
instead of the mother. I was really depressed because I 
knew that my flashbacks had been brief memories that 
I didn't recognize and kept pushing back. I was 
depressed because now that I knew the truth, nothing 
would ever be the same anymore. I resisted taking the 
baby but the mid-wife ignored me and forced the baby 
on me claiming that it was hungry and needed its 
mother. I reluctantly accepted the child and held it to 
my swollen breast.

As the baby nursed, I felt a calmness wash over me as 
I realized how natural it felt to hold a small nursing 
baby to my breast. I realized that I had lived several 
months as a woman and was accepted by everyone as 
being a woman. I realized that my body was really a 
woman's body and it was only my mind and my 
memories that were male. I realized that when I 
thought that I was a real woman, that I really was the 
woman that I thought I was. I realized that I had a 
wonderful life and that everything except my current 
sex, was what I had always wished for. 

Feeling very calm and relaxed now, I didn't want to let 
go of my baby and wanted him to nurse me as long as 
possible. I wanted to forget my painful memories and 
think only of my new life. As that little baby's lips 
drained my mother's milk from my swollen breast, I 
looked up to see Walt standing quietly in the corner as 
he watched me quietly nurse my baby. When he saw 
that I was aware of his presence, he approached and 
knelt beside the bed, quietly declaring his love for me 
and our child. I listened to his honest remarks and 
knew that he meant every word of it. I knew that he 
accepted me as his wife - as Jane.

At that moment, I knew that my life was as great as it 
was going to be. I knew that I was living the life that I 
wanted to live and that I was very happy with being a 
woman, with being Walt's wife and the mother of his 
children. I cried as I accepted his praise and love, 
knowing that from that moment on, I would try to 
forget my old life and to try to be the woman that he 
had convinced me that I should be.

I had a rough couple of days as I tried to come to grips 
with the truth about my past, but everytime the baby 
came near me, I felt such a wonderful sensation of 
calm and happiness that I knew that everything would 
be all right. I would make sure of it and there was no 
way that I would give up my baby.

Five days later, I was assisted out of the horse coach 
in front of the church. My nanny handed me my 
bundled-up baby and I carried him into the church, 
walking slowly but proudly in my beautiful dress and 
high heels beside my equally proud husband. I 
remember the long dark dress that I wore, carefully 
chosen because of its larger bodice and buttons. We 
walked down the aisle and took our seats where I 
proudly displayed my baby to the other members of 
our congregation prior to the service. I remember my 
baby's tiny hand searching for something and how I 
unbuttoned my blouse, then held my hungry child to 
my nursing breast in church as I sat beside my 
husband while the Pastor preached his Sunday 
sermon. My baby was a perfect baby that day. As soon 
as his little belly was full, he fell asleep and I buttoned 
up my blouse and held him close to me, enjoying the 
warmth from his delicate body, knowing that he 
needed a mother to take care of him. 

Later after church, I proudly watched as he was 
passed from one woman to another as they fussed over 
the little life that I'd brought into the world. I realized 
that I was now accepted by everyone as being not only 
Jane Parker, but the respectful wife of an English Lord 
and the mother of a darling little baby. I wasn't an 
outcast but rather the pillar of society - a person that 
others looked up to and accepted.

My prayers that day were not for forgiveness but for 
forgetness. I wanted to forget ever being a man, to 
forget ever being Tarzan, to forget who the real father 
of my baby was, and to forget that I was in a borrowed 
body. I wanted to walk out of that church, my memory 
wiped clean except for my new life. I wanted to be Jane 
and declared silently to myself that I was Jane - wife of 
Walt Desmond and mother of Lawrence Desmond.

It was easy to forget being Tarzan after that and to 
only remember being Jane. I discovered that the more 
that I lived the lie, the easier it became. I knew that it 
would be easy for me to accept my new sex because I 
enjoyed wearing women's clothes, having someone 
fuss over me as we made myself beautiful and then 
staring at my obviously attractive female body in a 
mirror. 

I used every trick that I could think of, to turn my 
mental self into a feminine mental identity. I daily 
shaved my legs and underarms as I soaked in warm 
bathwater, then coated my body with the finest oils 
and lotions to soften the skin. I dressed in the finest 
silk underwear, enjoying the silly frills and delicate 
ruffles that only Walt and myself knew that I was 
wearing. I hid my beautiful underwear under the 
prettiest dresses that were long and flowing. I bought 
several pairs of shoes, enjoying the high heels because 
they shaped my ass and made my walk more feminine. 
I experimented with fingernail polish, discovering that 
Walt enjoyed the feel of my new long ruby-red nails 
digging into his back when we had sex. I covered my 
fingers with beautiful rings, my wrists with dangling 
bracelets, my neck with diamond necklaces and my 
ears with golden earrings. I bought the most expensive 
perfumes and learned to use the exquisite smells to 
constantly re-enforce my new female image.

I knew that I had a woman's body but that wasn't 
enough at first because whenever I stared into a 
mirror, I saw the face of a woman that I had made love 
to. So I concentrated on changing my face so that it no 
longer reminded me of you. I couldn't really changed it 
so I camouflaged it. I let the tan fade so that it was the 
more socially acceptable color of a proper English 
Lady. I experimented with blush, with lipstick, with 
eye colors, with shaped eyebrows, with thicker lashes, 
and with different hairstyles. Every day, my maid 
spends almost an hour curling my long hair and 
shaping it into a hairstyle that you would never see on 
an Amazon Warrior Woman. When I finished with all of 
that daily modification, it wasn't your face that I saw 
in the mirror any more. It wasn't the squeaky clean, 
no make-up, hair pulled back into braids, teenage face 
that I had fell in love with. Instead, it was the face of a 
beautiful young socialite, with a slightly older, more 
mature face. It was a face that I could look at and over 
time feel that it belonged to me. 

I used to spend hours dressing myself and looking at 
myself in a mirror, forcing that image into my mind as 
I tried to become completely female. I also re-shaped 
my personality into the proper Lady except when I was 
with the girls, learning how to be vivacious when 
necessary. When I was in the privacy of our bedroom, I 
enjoyed stripping myself naked and being my 
husband's love goddess as I showed him what a 
perfect female body I had.

After a little time passed, I discovered that I was now 
comfortable with seeing my new image in the mirror 
because it was truly my image that I was seeing. Just 
as I had accepted my changing image as I aged over 
the years, seeing my new image reflected back at me 
soon become just as normal as my old image. And best 
of all, I wasn't seeing your image anymore. You see, 
my image of you, was of a teenage girl with no 
makeup, her hair pulled back into braids and running 
around half naked. The almost alabaster skin color, 
makeup, a beautiful hairstyle and appropriate clothes 
changed your old body so much that I no longer 
recognized it as your body. Not even when I saw myself 
naked in my bath. 

After I got my memories back, I remembered making 
love to the real Jane - to you- and talking about our 
lives. I told you about my past and you told me about 
your past as we laid curled up where ever it was that 
we just made love. About how you used to sneak out of 
the house so that you could be with your best friends. 
I thought about those discussions and decided that 
was another thing that I would do, to re-shape myself 
into the woman that you would have been.

One night, I searched through the trunks of old 
clothes in your old room and found the couple of 
dresses that you told me that you liked to wear. I put 
them on and sat in your room, then rang the bell for 
the maid. Mary Beth couldn't believe her eyes when 
she saw me. My face and hair were perfectly made up 
but I was wearing one of the old dresses just as you 
had. I asked her to get some whiskey and have the 
gang meet me in the barn. That night, I went down to 
the barn and re-established the friendship that you 
had started. 

Every couple of weeks, we would meet down there. 
After Walt would go to sleep, I would sneak out and go 
down to the barn, to sit around and talk to Mary Beth, 
and Jack and Harry and Dominque just as you used to 
do. Then Dominque ran off with Jack and I had a 
heart-broken friend to console. The two of us would sit 
in the barn, smoke our cigarettes and talk about men. 
She had a fantasy about finding the perfect man to be 
the father of her babies and as she talked, I blushed 
because she kept describing me - or describing my old 
body, that is. I told her that if I ever saw any man that 
looked like what she described, that I would do my 
best to lock him into the same room with her.

It was a very idyllic life. I would arise, dress as the 
youthful matriarch of a proper English family, then 
share a pleasant breakfast with my loving husband 
and young son. My mornings were occupied with 
watching my son play then my afternoons filled with 
the social banter of entertaining female friends, 
followed by pleasant formal dinners or parties. All the 
work was done for me and all I had to do, was to show 
up and be the center of attention. I hope that you can 
see why I enjoyed my new life.

But I always knew that someday that I would have to 
face the truth. That if you lived, that you would return 
some day. So I developed a plan of things that I would 
do, what I would say and how I would act. I knew that 
I had to pretend that I still didn't remember any of my 
previous life or being with you and hope that you 
didn't call my bluff.

I came up with that plan because of one reason - 
Walt's dying. In the last year, he's gone downhill a lot 
and the doctors give him two years to live - three at 
the top. So I plan to make his last few years as happy 
as possible as I continue to be his wife. After he's gone 
- well, I've considered taking Lawrence and going back 
to Africa to find you.

I know that this is a rather long letter, but there's so 
much that I want to tell you but couldn't do it in 
person. I wanted you to know why I didn't react to you 
or immediately pack up and go back with you. So I've 
made a pretense of asking you to take Mary Beth back 
as my gift to you. Actually, I wanted her to go back so 
that she can watch over you until the day that I'm free 
to come looking for you.

I don't know when I'll come back but don't be 
surprised to look up one day and see Lawrence and me 
coming over the hill. As for us, we have a lot to talk 
about. Should we swap bodies back?

I don't want to!

And I don't think that you do either. I'm not the same 
person that I was four years ago and even that person 
might be reluctant to return to his nomadic lifestyle. 
I've changed and I enjoy the new me. I enjoy being 
Lawrence's mother and won't give that simple 
pleasure up with a fight. I enjoy being the Grand Dame 
of proper English society and coming down a staircase 
in a long formal gown as an orchestra plays music and 
everyone watches me. I enjoy having men look at me 
and knowing that they want to have me but can't. I've 
even got where I enjoy those damn menstrual bloody 
messes because it proves that I'm a female capable of 
giving birth. I enjoy sitting around and talking plainly 
with women, even to the point of being very catty every 
once in awhile. I enjoy sitting in my bathtub as my 
bath oil softens my skin and then dressing in the most 
delicate clothes. I enjoy climbing in bed beside my 
husband and seeing the sexual arousal that I cause in 
him. I enjoy being on the receiving end of a hard cock 
and letting a man dominate me in bed. I enjoy waking 
up in a man's arms and knowing that I slept safely, 
curled up next to his body. I enjoy my softness, my 
femininity, my personality and most of all - I enjoy 
being you. Being the woman that you would've have 
been if you had stayed in England.

I hope that you have changed just as much as I did. 
There were so many things that I wanted to ask you 
but couldn't. Not things about the jungle, but things 
about you. Did you get aroused when you were with 
me? I did. Do you think that I'm pretty? How do you 
like my hair? My breasts grew a little more with 
Lawrence and there're even more puffy now. I think 
that they're so pretty, so soft and so beautiful. I 
would've like to shown them to you but I would've 
had to either break my promise to be true to Walt or 
revealed that my memories were back. 

Yes, I want to make love to you, but it has to wait. I'll 
never leave Walt and will miss him when he's gone. 
But I'll still be a young woman and will need a good 
man to take care of me and my son. It's a package 
deal with my son - both of us or neither of us. I know 
that you're the man that I want, but we'll have to 
spend some time and learn to accept each other for the 
person that we are now. And you'll have to court me 
in perfectly acceptable social fashion. After all, I am 
recognized as a Lady by Her Majesty and have to live 
up to my social expectations.

And I can't live with you in the jungle forever. If I come 
back to you, I want us to spend most of our time in a 
civilized environment, sleeping on clean sheets, living 
in good hotels and most of all, being lovers as you 
escort me around the best clubs in Europe. I want to 
be the young woman on your strong arm and to show 
you how lucky you are when you see all the men that 
have the hots for me. I want to be able to make love to 
you and feel that I'm your woman and that you're my 
man. I want us to become the perfect lovers.

You don't know how many times since I've got my 
memory back, that I've thought about what it would 
be like to make love to my former body. Just remember 
for the first couple of times that you've got to be 
gentle, because my body is used to a much smaller 
penis and I'm not looking forward to taking all of your 
large cock into me at once. Damn it, I can't wait to get 
into bed with you and you know it.

Till then, take care of Mary Beth. She's got the hots 
for you and will make a good mother. And most of all, 
take care.

Jane

*****

Tarzan held the letter to his nose and smelled the delicate perfume, 
knowing that it would fade now that it'd been removed from its 
protective envelope. He shut his eyes as he smelled the perfume, 
seeing the image of the woman that he knew as Lady Jane as he 
smelled her delicate aroma.

For several minutes, he just sat there, thinking about the letter and 
what she was asking from him. She was asking him to accept her 
and to treat her as if both of them had been born into the bodies 
that they now inhabited. She was asking him to wait for her. She 
was asking him to give her the chance to develop a new relationship 
between them.

He slowly stood and walked over to the hut's small door, looking 
outside at his native friends. He could see an obviously pregnant 
Mary Beth playing with one of the children that he had fathered 
with Laywan. The heavy-set woman saw him standing in the 
doorway and whispered something to the child; who turned around 
and waved at Tarzan.

As he waved back, he also knew that change was something that 
had to be dealt with. And that in two to three years, he would have 
a rough decision to make, but that was at least two years away. 

The END

Author's Note:  

If a follow-up story is ever started, the general plot would be:

Tarzan has about three years to wait until Sir Walter dies.  During 
that time, the very happy and completely masculine new Tarzan 
reveals the secret of the body exchange to Mary Beth.  
Unfortunately Mary Beth has a secret of her own. Ever since that 
son-of-a-bitch Jack ran off with Mary Beth's good friend 
Dominque, Mary Beth has dreamed of different ways that she could 
find her former friends and punish them.  After Tarzan/Jane tells 
her roly-poly female friend about the powers of the Chalice, Mary 
Beth starts thinking of different ways that she could use the 
Chalice to punish her former friends.  But there's a major problem 
- Mary Beth has a small child that she needs to take care of and 
her large body can't travel too many miles a day through the rough 
jungle.

However, her lover Tarzan has the perfect body for jungle travel - 
and her former friends wouldn't recognize him where they would be 
suspicious of anything that Mary Beth tried to get them to do.  The 
thoughts of vengeance cause her to become slightly crazy and she 
steals the Chalice - and trades bodies with Tarzan, knowing that 
small child and out-of-shape female body will keep the new Mary 
Beth from following.

So the new Tarzan heads back to England and the new Mary Beth 
follows as fast as she can, running into all sorts of difficulties as 
she travels back.  The new Mary Beth enlists Jane as a partner and 
the two of them search London, hampered by random killings by 
someone that the press is calling "Jack the Ripper".

The new Mary Beth and Jane recover the chalice but not without 
some cost. There's a three-way body exchange between Dominque 
in Tarzan's body, the new Mary Beth and the current Jane.  Still 
with me so far?  So Tarzan and Jane are in their rightful bodies 
with Dominque in Mary Beth's body, while the real Mary Beth, 
Jack, and someone that the press calls Jack the Ripper are running 
around England.  If I go any further, no one will bother to read it.

Anyhow, if I was to write a follow-up story (which I'm not 
promising), that's how it would go.


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JULIJANA: Волшебные превращения мужчины в женщину

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