Nowhere Man, Book One. - Cover

Nowhere Man, Book One.

Copyright© 2018 by Gordon Johnson

Chapter 48

Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 48 - My take on the man displaced through time/alternate worlds/whatever. The hero arrives naked, almost defenceless, with no memory of his past. How does he cope, and why is he there?

Caution: This Science Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Ma/ft   Consensual   Rape   Heterosexual   Science Fiction   Far Past   Time Travel   Humiliation   Sadistic   Polygamy/Polyamory  

From behind John came a screech from Numa. “Brand us with tattoos, to say we belong to him? No way!”

“Eh?” John stumbled to call out a reply. “What are you bumbling about Numa?”

“Brando says you want to brand us to say that we belong to you!”

“That is a wrong interpretation of what I said, Numa. I said that ALL parties should have a sign on them that says ‘I am married’; nothing more. I will expect to have the same symbol tattooed on me.”

“It is not a sign of ownership?”

“No more than it means that my wives own me. Do you own me?”

“Of course not: that would be ridiculous, a man being owned by his wives.”

“Then look at it this way: As a sign of commitment to a spouse. The ring symbol on a particular finger will simply say that the person is married; not to who, but just to say that he or she is already married, so is not looking for a mate. It is a protection against being bothered by those looking for mates.”

“Oh. That is different. So no-one should make advances to anyone with that ring symbol?”

“Correct: you have got the idea. In my time, it was the tradition that when a couple got married, they each put a ring of precious metal on the other – on the second to last finger of the left hand, as a sign of their love for each other, as a completeness that such a ring shows. A ring has no end to it, so it symbolises being together for eternity. The choice of the ring finger arose very early in time, when it was believed that the vein in that finger led direct to the heart, and so denoted love.”

“But if a man dies in battle or a woman dies in childbirth, what will the tattoo mean then, John?”

“Their love continues beyond death, as the deceased person waits with the Earth Mother for when the spouses will be together again, in her enfolding arms.”

“But the surviving spouse cannot remove the tattoo, to show they are widowed, and so available again.”

“That is so, but it can be embellished with an extra small tattoo; a line across the ring, on the back of the finger, to show that the ring has been broken in this life. The one with that extra marking is free to woo someone new.”

Numa was sharp. “What then happens to the tattoo when they find a new mate?”

“Simple: a second ring is marked on the same finger, showing that he or she was widowed and has found a new partner.”

“Mmm ... that could be acceptable, I suppose. Do you want you and me to be marked in this way, John?”

“You and me and Noma, and Raka and Gomla, Gimla, Gerva; Sheila, Vickie and Jean; all of us who are married. Other families can do the same thing, as it is only a sign of being married; nothing more; no implied ownership!”

“I can accept that, John. What happens when a man goes away and fails to return? There is nothing to say he is dead.”

“It was customary in my time to wait several years, and if nothing has been heard of him by that time, he is officially declared dead by the authorities – in this time, the Chief. If he is officially dead, his wife is officially a widow and is free to marry another.”

“What did you men by ‘several’ years? Is it a variable amount?”

“In my time, it varied according the jurisdiction – call it the tribe – normally between four and ten years, but mostly seven years of a person being missing. In a sudden disappearance – say a Stripie clan dragged you off and you vanished, it would be reasonable to assume you died shortly afterwards, and so you could be declared dead after a short delay. But if I went on a visit to a faraway tribe, I might have been taken away by force and still alive as a slave somewhere, so the presumption of death would require an extended period of absence, probably seven years.

Very occasionally, a person presumed dead will turn up after a long period, and then it is a matter for a remarried spouse to decided on what to do between them. Have you ever heard of a case of that sort?”

“Never. Most disappearances can be put down to animals or to murderous humans, and so death is presumed pretty quickly. Do we have to make a rule about long term disappearance with no explanation?”

“If it is highly unusual, I think we can ignore that possibility for now, my darling. Law is best kept to the minimum. The more laws you have, the more complicated life becomes.”

“And what about a wife who loses her husband and has no wish to remarry, as she has her children to keep her company?”

“I have not got a definitive answer to that one, but I would suggest she can decide not to have the widow tattoo on her finger. That would show she regarded herself as still married and thus unavailable.”

Numa clapped her hands together. “I like that idea! I shall lay down a law that widow tattoos are like ring tattoos: up to the people concerned. Our family will all accept the ring tattoo, I believe, but I will never want to replace you, John.”

“To quote someone else: never say never. You might change your mind if I die and you meet a wonderful man in the future. Don’t tie yourself to a ‘never’, Numa. I would not want that.”

“You are talking of death too much, John. Please can we leave that subject alone?”

“Anything you want, my love, the mother of my first child. I am looking forward to seeing our baby come into the world. Do fathers here get to see their baby being born?”

“What? You would want to be there? A man wanting to see the mess a woman gets into when birthing a baby? Surely not? It can take a long long time for babies to come out, depending on the woman and the size of the baby, let me warn you. If the baby gets stuck, the mother and baby can both die, John.”

“In my time, the helper can move the baby around so that it comes out the right way. It has to come out head first, you see.”

“You know about birthing, John? You can save a woman who is in difficulty?”

“No guarantees, Numa, but I probably know more about helping a woman give birth than any medical helper you have here.”

She looked him in the eye, estimating her chances of convincing him, then went for it.

“High Chief John, I hereby appoint you as our expert in childbirth. You will be required to attend any births within our tribe, and your entire task will be to make sure that mother and baby survive – if it is possible. Please state that you agree.”

John looked back at a determined wife, and sighed in defeat, for he saw no way out.

“Very well. Chief Numa, I accept the responsibility you have laid on me, and will do my best to fulfil that task.”

“An addition, John. If Chief Maranga requests the same duty from you for her tribe, will you accept that as well?”

“I will want to assist her with her baby, so I am probably going to be stuck with others as well.”

“Good. I’ll take that as a ‘yes’, and can tell Maranga later. Do you want to hear what your archers have been doing?”

“I knew they were firing arrows down the slope earlier, so I take it they were co-ordinating their efforts?”

“They did that. Several of our own archers were alongside the archers from the Farfarers, to check that they knew our commands and procedures with arrows and bows, and that went well. They are now learning about fire arrows, how to prepare them, how to light them, how to fire them off without being burned. They get a refresher course on handling a spear to our requirements.

Lastly, they are learning once more about discipline: doing things together on command, without having to think about them. That has to be reinforced over and over, as you taught us, John.”

“Nice to know it has stuck, Numa. I have been impressed by all of my wives. I expected at least some to be a damned nuisance at times, wanting their own way all the time, but nothing like that happened. It must be these nanomites that I told you about, having influenced everybody in the family.”

“Well, it wasn’t the nanomites that got us pregnant, darling. It was you and your fertile prong that did it. Perhaps they had some influence, in that none of us have had problems with our pregnancies.”

“That is possible. Things like increased blood pressure can be a problem during the late stages of pregnancy.”

“Eh? What is blood pressure, John?”

“Sorry, Numa: another bit of knowledge from my time. The blood running around inside your body works well at a particular level – it delivers sustenance and a part of air called oxygen – and if the level gets too high – what we call raised blood pressure – it can make a pregnancy dangerous. Vickie, Sheila and Jean can all tell you about it if you want more details.”

“There you are: proof that my decision to appoint you to deal with births was the correct decision.”

“I suppose you are right, Numa. I will do my best to show that your confidence in me was not misplaced.”

“I am getting hungry, my love. Is it time for a meal?”

“Probably. As Chief, I have delegated food preparation to other members of the tribe. Did you know that a few of the men have shown an interest in food preparation?”

“They have? That is a good sign. It shows that men are accepting the equality of genders, and don’t automatically assume that all meals get prepared by women. Have they shown any sign of being good at the job?”

“Not yet. They are learning, though. One of the men has tasted our herbs and says that he can find better samples in the forest, for he has tasted them himself. He is lucky that he didn’t poison himself; some varieties, as in mushrooms, can be poisonous.”

“That is true. Some tribes back in my era were known to use poisonous plants or venomous snakes to make a substance that they dipped their arrow points into. Such points could be fatal if the substance got into your blood.”

Numa appeared interested in the concept. “I must ask Sheila about that. If she knows of such poisons, we could prepare our arrows in that way, and really make in impact with our archers, John.”

John was not so keen.

“I would prefer we didn’t use poison arrows at this time, my love. Many of the soldiers we attack may have been forced into the invader army against their will; such things have happened before. I would rather not kill them if possible. I would prefer they be injured and have to go home to recuperate. Another factor which most armies do not take into account is that injured soldiers are more of a problem for their own army than if they are dead!”

“Eh? How do you mean?”

“Injured soldiers have to be looked after, and helped to recover. If an army does not look after its injured, then the other soldiers will not want to fight in future, in case the same thing happens to them. Conversely, when an army has to use other soldiers to collect the injured, attend to their wounds, and help them back to some base for recuperation, these helpers have to come out of the ranks. It means that many soldiers, just like those that look after supplies of food and weapons, are not available for fighting battles, so the army is weakened. Injuring your opponent’s soldiers is almost like winning another battle.”

“John, once again you show a wicked side to yourself, seeking a sneaky way to weaken the invaders.”

John shrugged. “It beats killing many more men, Numa.”

“There is that. I’ll ask what the situation is about food, while you can consider who is going to use that first house.”

“Oh, yes. I hadn’t considered that. I must check that it is complete enough to be inhabited.”

He went back down to check that Brando had included the proposed ventilation in the back wall. He wasn’t so bothered about a door in the current warm climatic conditions, unless it was needed to stop animal entry. There was no stone hearth for a cooking fire either. The ventilation, with a closable slide, was there, he was pleased to note.

When he looked more around inside, two things struck him: it felt almost claustrophobic after the openness of the cave, and the family living in it would not be close to friends any more. He decided it would be best to let a rota of families try it out, and find out if this size was acceptable or his proposed larger size house was essential.

When he was back at the cave and had a chance to talk with Numa, he mentioned his worries. She agreed that testing it out with sample families spending a day and night was a good plan. They were wondering who should get first try when Gerva trotted up to them with one of the growing puppies.

“Chief! The puppies are growling! They only do that as a warning of danger or to chivvy the sheep.”

“Any word from the duty guard?”

“Nothing yet, but the dogs catch a strange scent and react to that. Our guard has to wait for sound. She will whistle if she hears anything odd.”

As she finished speaking, there came a soft but urgent whistle from the guard position. Numa was quick to react.

“Tell everyone to grab their weapons and prepare for action. Children to the rear of the cave!”

In moments there was a flurry of movement, and even the Farfarer warriors jumped into action immediately. John was gratified by that activity from their friends.

John was watching keenly the forest edge. If the guard encountered an individual or other small number of friendly folk, she would escort them to the cave. The fact that she had gone quiet and stayed out of sight alarmed him. He had visions of another wanderer band coming their way.

Instead, a line of spear-carrying warriors appeared, but they were led by one of the teenagers from the fisher village. John relaxed when he saw that the lad did not seem concerned about leading this bunch of strangers.

He moved to the front of the cave and raised a hand in cautious welcome.

“Halt! Identify yourselves.”

The lad stepped aside and gestured to the first of the strangers, who took on the position of spokesman.

“We are visitors from a tribe in contact with the invader army. We come seeking advice. The fisher tribe said you were the one to speak with.”

“And why are our visitors all warriors? That is not an encouraging sign, sir.”

“We left our women at the fisher camp, Chief, with some more warriors to protect them from any eventuality. This lad can confirm that.”

The young man spoke up confidently, “True, Chief. They came to us and asked permission to rest their women while they sought out the High Chief; the man who was reputed to be a great shaman and a great chief. I of course brought them here, High Chief.”

The warrior corrected himself.

“I apologise, High Chief, for calling you Chief. I had not heard of this title of High Chief before now.”

John waved it away as of no consequence.

“Not to worry. Now, what has brought you such a long way, and bringing women with you? That does concern me, that you would bring women with you.”

“it is a long story, and one we wished never to happen. My name is Otempi. May we come up to your cave?”

John called to him, “I have to ask the tribal Chief’s permission for that, Otempi. Give me a short time to ask.”

John stepped back inside the cave, and found Numa not far from his back, spear in hand. “I am here, John, and heard. Give them my permission, provided they leave their spears with the young fisher man, in front of the new house.”

John stepped out again and passed this message to the visitors. They saw the logic of the demand, and did as asked. The fisher lad was happy to guard the weapons.

The visiting warriors, ten in all, trooped up in single file and gave John a flat, forward-facing salute as they passed him. The leader looked around for the Chief, until this clearly pregnant woman tapped him on the arm.

“Greetings. I am Chief Numa, in charge of this tribe.”

He blinked in surprise. “No-one told us the Chief was a woman, only that High Chief John was the man to speak with.”

“You are forgiven, Otempi. Are you the Chief of your tribe, or merely leader of this band?”

“I am indeed Chief. My wife is back at the fisher tribe, keeping the women in order.”

Numa laughed, “Keeping the women in order? There speaks a man who doesn’t understand women. Your wife is actually in charge of the rest of your tribe while you are away. Did you not appoint a man to be in control?”

He paused to think before admitting, “No. My wife told me that she and the other women could manage fine while I was away with my escorting warriors. It did not occur to me that she was assuming control. So ‘managing fine’ meant she would be in charge of the tribe?”

“There! Now you get it. You have a clever wife, who clearly loves you and knows you love her, or she would not dare assume control like that.”

“Chief Numa, you too are a clever woman. It is no surprise that you are a Chief. I presume from your expectant condition that you have a husband.”

“You were speaking to him, Otempi. High Chief John appointed me as Chief when he became High Chief. I have learned a lot from having to make decisions for my tribe, and observing men is a talent that we women have in abundance.”

Otempi looked around the cave, and was suddenly aware of how many spears were pointing in his men’s direction.

“Ah, Chief: do you mind asking these ladies to put down these spears before there is an accident with them?”

“Chief Otempi, do you expect your warriors to have such an accident with their spears?”

“Of course not, for they are men.”

“Well, most of my warriors are women, and they are fully trained in spear-fighting and other forms of fighting as well, so they are safe around spears.”

“Eh? How can that be? Females as warriors? You joke, surely?”

“No joke. Any of my female warriors can probably defeat any of your male warriors in battle.” Numa spoke without boasting; just acting as if this was normal, and Otempi saw that she believed it. He ventured, “What sort of fighting are your warriors trained in, Chief Numa?”

“Apart from spear fighting, use of the bow and arrow to a high standard, knife fighting – that can be vicious – and unarmed combat.”

“What is ‘unarmed combat’? I have never heard of such a thing.”

“Rather simple – fighting without weapons in the hands. The hands become weapons, as do the feet, and a woman can throw a man onto the ground with the correct moves that she is trained to use.”

An unbelieving Otempi risked turning to John and asking, “High Chief John, is this so? Women who can fight without weapons?”

“It is true, Chief Otempi. I taught them myself. Care to experience it? I would advise not carrying a weapon or your arm may get broken in the encounter.”

The Chief gave a start and looked into John’s face. John nodded to confirm what he had said, so the Chief removed a knife from his belt and laid it on the ground. He looked to Numa and challenged, “Any female warrior? You mean that?”

She gestured imperiously, “Choose.”

Naturally, he chose the smallest and least-muscled warrior, who happened to be Raka. At that, Numa warned her, “Raka: He is not to be injured; just a demonstration please.”

Raka replied, “Yes, Chief.” and assumed a bent ju-jutsu stance, hands forward towards Otempi. The man quickly stepped forward towards the small woman and reached for her, confident he could take on his much smaller opponent. With a sudden lunge, she grabbed his arm, pulled him forward, turned her torso and using her pelvis threw him over her shoulder on to the hard floor. His breath left him in a whoosh and he had to lie there for a moment to recover. His men sniggered quietly as they watched this humiliation, but did not venture any comment: they knew better.

When he tried to regain his feet, Raka stood before him, erect and feet together, and gave him a short bow of acknowledgement that the fight was concluded. She asked, “Are you all right, Chief Otempi? I did not damage you, I hope!”

He went to reach out to use her shoulder as a crutch to stand straight, then jerked his arm back, afraid she would throw him again. She offered a helping hand, and this time he took it, carefully and gratefully.

Standing again, he nodded to her. “I am only winded, young lady, and I apologise for my assumptions. I never imagined that a little girl could do that to a grown man.”

“I am no little girl, Chief Otempi. I am a married woman, expecting a baby, and I am also Maker of this tribe!” she finished proudly.

Otempi stared at the young woman and looked over at Chief Numa. “A talented lady, it seems. Are all of your warriors as good as this, Chief?”

“More or less,” he was grudgingly told. “Some of these warriors in the cave today are visitors from another associated tribe, so are not as fully trained as my warriors in unarmed combat, but they are fully competent with spear and with bow and arrow. In this cave at the moment we have a hand times two hands of warriors in total.”

Otempi did his math, came up with the meaning of ‘fifty’ and blinked.

“This small tribe can field that many trained warriors?”

Numa acknowledged, “Indeed. Plus, if they are all away for any reason, others of the tribe are sufficiently trained to be able to defend the cave effectively.”

“Amazing. How did this come about?”

Numa admitted, “It began back when John was Chief. He felt that past tradition treated women unfairly. He decided that men and women should be treated equally; and have the opportunity of learning any task in the tribe. Now, some of our female warriors are also hunters for the tribe, using their bow and arrow skills, and some men have become quite skilful in identifying and collecting edible plant sources while out hunting. We have a female expert on herbs and plant medicine, and a female Maker, who you have met. High Chief John is also our Shaman when that talent is required. Everyone benefits from multi-tasking.”

“I would like to know more, but matters are much more pressing for my tribe.”

John intervened, “Yes, I was wondering what was happening with your tribe?”

Otempi explained, “Our tribe lies on the border with the army, and had an uneasy relationship with the invaders, but nothing other than demands for food supplies until two days ago. Then they told us they wanted several women from our tribe, preferably unmarried women, to go with them to serve the army. They did not specify in what capacity they were to serve.

We guessed that, because they did not specify what the service would be, it was sexual service for their men, and we were horrified but did not show it. I told them that we would require two days or more to discuss the matter and if we agreed, to select the females for that service.

They accepted that deal, but as soon as they left, I started organising the evacuation of the entire tribe from our campsite. We closed off and disguised our storage pits, and packed all our essential tools and equipment. We could not take everything, so what would not go with us we took into the forest and hid. Our less able folk – the elderly and young – were sent off first with a leading and following guard detail while we finished stripping the camp. I was pleased at how well our people worked at all this, but they saw it was important.

Within one day we were on our way, heading to the north, away from the army. Behind us, two men took care of trying to disguise our movement along the trail. As far as possible, we went single file, except where something or someone had to be carried. We passed through the territory of several tribes, and told them why we were escaping the invader. They gave us food and drink, and helped us on our way.

In the course of our travels, we were told that there was a mysterious powerful Shaman or Chief in this direction that might be able to help us. When we reached the fisher tribe, they told us that there was a Chief based at a cave that had a reputation for helping others, and they would supply a guide for us to reach him. I decided to lead a team to seek that help, while the rest of the tribe took some rest. It turned out that the Chief was you, High Chief John.”

John took a moment to think things over, then asked, “Do you think that your tribe will be chased by these army men?”

Otempi was dismissive. “There are too many trails that we could have used, and we made sure it was not easy to follow us. They would have to split their forces to chase down all the routes, then how could the successful ones report back? By the time all of them got back together, we would be long gone again. The tribes we passed through would claim they didn’t notice which way we left, and I suggested perhaps saying we split up and went different ways. It would be a real waste of time to chase us. They are more likely to pick on another tribe to demand women.”

John admitted, “You are probably correct in that conclusion. You were not important enough in their eyes to devote such resources to finding you. So what do you and your tribe want to do?”

“That is why we are here, High Chief. We don’t know where we can find refuge: a new site for our tribe to camp. From what we have heard, you seem to have a wide knowledge of people and places. What would you recommend?”

This made John realise that for his tribe, he had carved out their own territory without asking anyone. They had been lucky, he guessed. He got back to the question.

“How large is your tribe, in population? Do you know the numbers, or can give a good guess?”

“Not very large, for we were hit by an epidemic of disease some years back, when we lost a lot of old people and youngsters. The present tribe is about half the size of the fisher tribe; if that helps you.”

“I get the idea. If there is no readily available land, it might be better to split your tribe and add part of it to several tribes, perhaps as a temporary measure until you can find some vacant land. There were one or two small tribes near the coast that were destroyed by pirates and most of the survivors elected to stay with new tribes. Some of them are with the fisher tribe, so you could ask them about the land they were abducted from. You might have to learn fishing, if you moved there, depending on what other resources were available.”

He went on, “Do you have many unmarried men or women, including widowed people of childbearing age?”

“I have not counted what we have in that way; probably quite a few at the moment, after the disease. Most of our surviving women are of childbearing age. Does it matter?”

“It does when you look at the economics of a tribe. A tribe with enough food resources around it can cope better, and help its population either through intermarriage with other tribes, or families taking on extra wives or even husbands.”

“But if we let our women marry into other tribes, we lose population!”

“And if you let your men get wives from other tribes, you gain population, don’t you? Do not be inward-looking all the time. The exchange works for everyone. Let me tell you a secret: Marriage between tribes leads to better health in both tribes’ children over a long period of time. Keeping marriage within the tribe leads to bad outcomes after a few generations, so intermarriage between tribes is a good idea in general. It also helps tribes to get along with each other, if they have relatives in the other tribe.”

“Your reputation of good advice is justified, it seems. You also seem to have secret knowledge of the future when you talk of long term outcomes.”

“That matter of long term results comes from a society far from here, where I lived for all my younger years. Their wise men and women studied many matters including breeding animals, and they discovered that breeding between closely related animals led to poor and sickly offspring. They simply concluded that as human beings are part of the animal kingdom, the same effect would happen with human beings if they bred too closely, so advised against it. I do the same. It all makes good sense, to my mind.”

“So your knowledge comes from farther away?”

“In a sense: it is in my memory, and my memory is based on past experience and learning from other people, just as you become a good Chief through experience, learning, and good advice. I simply have a wider breadth of learning and experience. You came here to improve your learning and get some advice based on other people’s learning; in this instance, mine.”

“That is so. I am sorry if I seemed to be challenging your words. It was not intentional.”

“I am not concerned about motives, as long as the motive is pure and positive in nature. You only learn from other people by asking and listening, and making your own decisions thereafter.”

“You are not worried about what I might decide?”

“Why should I? It is your life and your tribe, and your responsibility as well. I have enough problems of my own without worrying about another tribe’s decisions.”

“That is good to know, that you give advice without persuading us to take that advice.”

“Otempi, if you are offered good advice and don’t take it, you are the one who will suffer from it, not me. If you think it is bad advice and ignore it, then I hope you are proved right. Every Chief has to decide what is best for his or her own tribe, just like the fisher tribe.”

The source of this story is Storiesonline

To read the complete story you need to be logged in:
Log In or
Register for a Free account (Why register?)

Get No-Registration Temporary Access*

* Allows you 3 stories to read in 24 hours.

Close
 

WARNING! ADULT CONTENT...

Storiesonline is for adult entertainment only. By accessing this site you declare that you are of legal age and that you agree with our Terms of Service and Privacy Policy.


Log In