The Phantom

by Wayne Mansfield

  Toby could feel his cock growing between his legs.

  The second man turned around and backed himself onto the end of the first man’s butt plug. Within the space of a few seconds they were joined. Both began to work their hips so that they were fucking each other with their butts. More impressive was the size of their erections. Both men had mammoth cocks; thick as well as long. As they ground their arses against each other, they jerked off. One of the men was using two hands to deliver long, slow strokes to his swollen manhood while the other man’s hand flew up and down the length of his shaft like some supersonic piston.

  Toby was likewise playing with his erection. A long, thin strand of pre-cum oozed out of the eye of his cock and fell slowly toward the dirt beneath. Before it made contact Toby caught it on his finger then reached between his legs and inserted the self-lubricated finger into his arsehole. While the two men in front of him rocked back and forth on the double-ended butt-plug, Toby rocked on his middle finger.

  Suddenly one of the men cried out and Toby watched as a thick streak of white shot out of the end of the second man’s cock. Half a minute of thrusting and grunting later the other man shot his load against the post in front of him. At that moment Toby streaked the floor of his own hut with cum. To his great delight the men were not finished. Both took it in turns to suck the other’s cock clean of cum and when they had both finished, they kissed.

  As Toby licked the cum off his fingers he realised he had witnessed his first tribal engagement.

  He spoke about it with Kuweza later that day, both of them getting hard as Toby went into graphic detail.

  “That’s him over there,” said Toby, pointing as the man who lived in the hut opposite returned. “He doesn’t have his butt plug in any more.”

  Kuweza gave his cock a couple of tugs. “He wouldn’t. He’s not available any more. A man with a woman or another man does not wear a butt plug. I told you. His butt plug…” Kuweza nodded towards the hut. “…will go into a special pouch, unwashed, to preserve the memory of their pairing.”

  “It’s a nice custom,” said Toby. “I like it. How about you get me one of those butt plug things?”

  Kuweza looked at Toby grimly. “I will not. Wearing one is not done for amusement. But I have something else you can stick up there.”

  He looked down at his cock, which was sticking up like a third arm and dribbling pre-ooze in quantities most men ejaculated.

  Toby shook his head. “Kuweza, I can’t take that. It’d tear my arsehole up good and proper.”

  “Try it,” said Kuweza, smearing his shaft with his own lubrication.

  “What if someone sees?” said Toby looking anxiously about.

  “And who do you know that’s going to care?” said Kuweza sitting down on the floor of the hut. “Now get on and let me fuck your tight, white hole.”

  Toby slowly eased himself onto Kuweza’s cock, grimacing as the head pushed its way through his tight sphincter and gritting his teeth as he lowered himself onto the shaft. It was a weird feeling. It wasn’t exactly comfortable, but the tautness of his arsehole and the full feeling inside his abdomen felt so good. He could feel his arse muscles clamping down around the thick stalk and as he began grinding his hips against it he could feel the large pink head massaging his hardening prostate.

  “Are you okay?” asked Kuweza.

  Toby began jerking off. He felt Kuweza reach around and place the palm of his hand against the thick bush of pubic hair above his cock.

  “I like the way your cock hair feels,” he said.

  Toby was getting too close to orgasm to reply. His whole body had disappeared and now he was just a collection of feelings and sensations. The cool sweat running down his naked flesh tickled. The smell of their sex filled his nostrils. The pressure of Kuweza’s hand against his pubis was pushing him closer to orgasm and the white-hot heat around his arsehole was fuelling the imminent eruption.

  The second he felt Kuweza’s lips against the back of his neck, he blew. His whole body shuddered as jet after jet of thick cream rocketed out to criss-cross the dark dirt. Some even landed on Kuweza’s shin and foot.

  “I can tell you enjoyed Kuweza’s cock being inside you.”

  Toby fell back against Kuweza, panting and drenched in his own sweat.

  “Get off me,” said Kuweza. “What am I? Some chair for you to relax on?”

  Kuweza pushed him roughly to the ground, and as he did so, Toby felt something trickling down his leg. He reached down and his fingers came away covered in Kuweza’s cum. He looked at Kuweza who was standing on the other side of the small hut wall.

  “What? You think I was going to let you have all the fun?” He turned and started walking away. “I’ll be back soon with your dinner. And then tomorrow you will find out why you’re here. It’ll be a special occasion for all of us.”

  Toby walked to the edge of the hut, as far as his chain would allow, and stared after Kuweza. Yet it wasn’t Kuweza he was thinking off. It was Tiger. It was obvious that by now they had set sail and left without him. He had been with the natives for almost a week. He couldn’t have been that far from the coast that his crewmates couldn’t have stumbled upon him.

  He felt his eyes welling with tears. His time with the natives had been interesting and occasionally fun, but he’d had enough. There was no place like home and if he’d been left behind, chained to a post in the middle of a village in the middle of a dense jungle then he had to face up to the fact that he would probably never see home again.

  Chapter 5

  Toby had lost his appetite by the time Kuweza returned with a bowl of meat and yam stew. He questioned Kuweza about why the following day was so special, but Kuweza would only shake his head and smile. Toby felt a chill in the marrow of his bones when he thought about what lay in store for him. Alone in the darkness of his hut he could do no more than pick at the morsels of food in his bowl and in the end he pushed the dish to one side and lay down on the ground. He closed his eyes and realised he was sick of lying on the hard ground too. In fact, there wasn’t one thing he wasn’t absolutely fed up with.

  When he was awoken later that night by a voice in the darkness, Toby wondered if he weren’t a little psychic. It wasn’t Kuweza’s voice and it wasn’t deep enough to belong to any of the other natives he had encountered.

  “Toby, is that you?”

  The voice sounded familiar and after Toby had fully woken up, he realised it was Tiger’s voice.

  “Yes, it’s me, Tiger. Get me out of here.”

  Two dark figures slid over the low wall of the hut.

  “Are you being guarded?” asked Tiger.

  “No,” said Toby. “I’ve just got this bloody chain around my ankle.”

  “Sandy, have you got that saw?” asked Tiger.

  “You’re not going to cut through this chain with a saw,” said Toby. “It’s too strong.”

  Sandy passed Tiger the saw.

  “I’m not going to cut through the chain. I’m going to cut through this post. We can deal with the chain later. Sandy, keep an eye out.”

  Toby could hardly breathe. The sound of the saw was probably not as loud as the sounds coming from within the jungle, but to Toby it seemed loud enough to draw every villager from their hut.

  “Hurry,” he whispered.

  A small crack announced the fact that the post had been successfully cut through.

  “Sandy, come and help me,” said Tiger before addressing Toby. “When we lift the pole up, slide the chain through and gather it up in your hands so it doesn’t make any noise. We’ll put the pole down and hopefully it will stay in place long enough for us to get well clear of the place. Okay? Ready?”

  At that moment Sandy dropped to the ground.

  “Someone’s coming!”

  Tiger dropped to the ground too and so did Toby.

  “Pretend you’re asleep,” said Tiger as he pushed himself against the base of the wall.

  Toby heard the villager approac
hing. His whole body was paralysed with fear. They didn’t usually check on him, at least he’d never been aware of it before. They must have heard something.

  The footsteps came to a stop just outside his hut.

  “Boy,” said the man.

  It wasn’t Kuweza. What should he do? Reply to let the man know he was still there or pretend to be asleep. His mind raced although finally the time spent thinking about what to do dictated what he did. He had no choice now but to pretend to be asleep.

  The man stood silently at the wall for several minutes.

  Toby lay in the darkness with his eyes clenched shut, willing the man to go away. What was he doing anyway? Surely the man knew by now that he was still there and everything was okay. Toby opened an eye, just a crack, and saw the man had slipped away. He furrowed his brow and slowly sat up. By the light of the moon he could just make out the shape of the man returning to wherever he’d come from.

  “He’s gone,” whispered Toby. “Let’s get out of here.”

  Tiger and Sandy wrapped their hands around the post.

  “On three,” said Tiger. “One…two…three.”

  The two men lifted the post and Toby slid his chain through the gap then slowly the post was lowered back into place.

  “This way,” said Tiger, and Sandy and Toby followed him over the far wall.

  As they wove their way through the huts, Toby found it difficult to keep the chain links from clinking together. In the end he rolled the chain into a tight ball around his hand until the length that remained was taut, which meant he had to run in a kind of hybrid walking running motion. Naturally, it meant he fell behind the others, which wasn’t a problem as long as he didn’t lose sight of them.

  With a palpable sense of relief, he arrived at the gate the men had obviously left open on their way in.

  “We’ve got to shut it,” said Tiger. “And secure it. That way we won’t draw their attention to the fact we’ve been here. It’ll also help us get a head start.”

  Toby smiled at Tiger in the dark. It amazed him how much Tiger knew about everything. He would never have thought to shut the gate. He would have just kept on running. Yet closing the gate and securing it from their side made obvious sense.

  After the gate had been dragged into place, Sandy and Tiger got some nearby branches and pushed them through gaps between the poles in the fence and those in the gate, securing the gate perfectly. When they had finished, they ran until they were well clear of the village.

  “Which way now?” asked Sandy.

  Tiger looked around at the shadowy jungle.

  “I think it’s this way,” he said pointing in the direction of the river.

  “We could go that way,” said Toby, happy to be of some use. “The river’s down there and if we follow it we’ll come to the beach. But if we want to go directly through the jungle we go in that direction.”

  “It’ll be safer going along the river,” said Sandy.

  “Not necessarily,” said Toby. “Kuweza told me there are crocodiles and hippos in the river, and they come out of the water at night.”

  “We’ll go through the jungle then,” said Tiger looking up at the sky. “See those stars? That cluster up there. We’ll head in that direction. If we make sure they stay in front of us we’ll know we’re going in the right direction. Let’s go.”

  They pushed through the undergrowth as quietly as they could. They might have been safe from the natives, at least for the moment, but there were other predators around. Surrounding them were wild noises, which kept Toby’s senses alert and his neck well-exercised.

  “How far is it?” whispered Toby.

  “An hour or so,” replied Tiger, “so we’d better pick up the pace.”

  It’s all right for you, thought Toby. You’re not naked. You don’t have to lug a heavy chain along with you. And just as the thought was evaporating, Toby heard a loud shout, far away in the direction of the village.

  “Shit!” said Tiger. “Run like the fucking wind.”

  Toby was already streaking past both Tiger and Sandy. With the sound of Tiger shouting in his ears and the memory of his time in the native village still fresh in his mind, suddenly the burden of being naked and hauling an armful of chain was not the disadvantage it had been earlier. As he whipped through the shrubbery, his skin was scratched and cut by small twigs and thorns, but it didn’t slow him.

  From somewhere behind there was another shout and this time, a reply. The natives were still quite a way off, yet it would take them very little time to catch up. Toby was well aware that they knew this environment infinitely better than either he or his friends.

  “Stick together,” shouted Sandy. “Once we get to the boat, we’re leaving.”

  Toby ran until there wasn’t one part of his body that wasn’t aching. His lungs were on fire, drying his throat so that even the air he was sucking in stuck to the back of his throat. His foot came down on something sharp and he grimaced, but there was no time to see how much damage had been done. Still, the injury had him limping and this slowed him considerably. Tiger was suddenly ahead of him and he could hear Sandy wheezing and spluttering not far behind.

  Time seemed to stretch. Toby vaguely recalled someone telling him that they were only an hour away from the beach, yet how long had they been running? Surely it had been close to an hour, or maybe that was just wishful thinking. Had they somehow got lost and were now running in a different direction? Toby glanced up at the sky and noted the cluster of stars ahead of them. That was one thing at least.

  Toby began counting the time in his head. He counted to sixty then started at one again, keeping a track of the minutes with his fingers. At the ten-minute mark he realised he could hear the sound of the ocean lapping at the beach. A small part of him, not involved in powering his body forward through the shrubbery, spilled over with relief, yet the sound of something whizzing past his ear soon extinguished that tiny spark. A large spear jutted quivering from a tree. Clearly, their luck was just about to run out.

  Toby burst onto the sandy beach to find Tiger had already made it to the small dinghy. Pete was there, judging from the silhouette, helping Tiger to push the boat into the water.

  “They’re here,” yelled Toby as Sandy ran past.

  Another spear missed Toby’s leg by millimeters, sending a flood of adrenalin coursing through his veins. As Sandy climbed into the boat, a thought flashed in Toby’s head. I won’t make it. It was only a passing thought, but enough to have his eyes watering.

  Then he felt hands on him, helping him into the boat bobbing on the tiny waves, eager to be across the sea, like every one of its passengers.

  “Get us out of here!” Sandy shouted, using his hand draped over the side of the small boat to help paddle them away from danger.

  Toby looked over his shoulder, past Tiger, and saw five dark figures burst onto the beach, shouting and waving their fists and spears. One of them launched his spear, sending it slicing through the air. The metal spearhead hit the side of the boat, skated across the wood, and disappeared into the water.

  “That was bloody lucky,” said Tiger. “I felt…”

  Toby was relieved to see the last man had thrown his spear. The natives could do little now. Two of them had disappeared into the jungle and were pulling one of their canoes down the sand to the water’s edge, but the outboard engine on their boat would have them at The Phantom before the natives could gain any advantage.

  * * * *

  Tiger fell forward, his head hitting Toby on the back of the shoulder.

  “I’m glad it’s over, too,” said Toby, thinking that Tiger was merely resting his head with relief against the shoulder of someone he cared for. When Tiger didn’t raise his head again, Toby realised something was wrong. He twisted around and lifted Tiger’s heavy bulk. Only when Tiger slipped from his hands and landed with a heavy thud against the side of the boat did Toby see the spearhead erupting through the front of Tiger’s torso.

  “Tiger!
” he shouted. He turned to Pete and Sandy. “He’s been hit! Help him!”

  Toby began to pull the spear through, twisting it gently to ease the smooth, polished shaft out of his beloved Tiger.

  Pete had to stay at the engine, his eyes flitting between Toby, the natives in their canoe and The Phantom looming large behind them.

  Sandy leaned across and took hold of Tiger’s hand. He pressed two fingers against the inside Tiger’s wrist and slowly shook his head.

  Toby pushed Sandy away.

  “What would you know? He’s just passed out! We’ll get him back to the ship and Captain Bartlett will fix him up! We’ve got to stop the bleeding. Give me your shirt!”

  Toby lunged at Sandy again, snatching at his shirt, then leaned down to draw Tiger’s limp body closer to him. He rested Tiger against his thigh, his hands clamping down around his head, cupping it. Tears slithered down his cheeks.

  They soon arrived back at The Phantom and with some small amount of difficulty, managed to get Tiger’s body aboard. The Captain, Lennie, Zeke and Bird had been working hard to ready the ship to set sail, but with a body to take care of, everything came to a stop.

  “They killed him!” Toby snarled. “Those bastards killed him!”

  Pete placed a comforting arm around Toby’s shoulders, which he promptly shrugged off.

  “They’re gone now,” said Sandy, turning back to face the small group of men gathered around Tiger. “Bloody mongrels!”

  “All right, everyone,” said the Captain. “Gather around. Better we do this now.”

  “Do what?” asked Toby.

  “Sea burial,” said Pete.

  Toby began to shake his head. “No. No way.”

  “We have to, Toby,” said Captain Bartlett.

  Toby was still shaking his head. “What about his family? We have to take him back to his family so they can say goodbye to him and bury him properly.”