The Great Escape Chapter 19, Part 4 of 6

The Great Escape
Chapter 19, Part 4 of 6

"I remember someone wrote in the book 'Memories of Earth,'" she said, "that there were smoked meats, but I don't remember the details."

However, the Cloners had not yet delivered the copy of 'Memories of Earth' to the Woodlanders, and none of the women who had read the book when they stayed in the Cloner City to conceive their daughters could remember how the meat was smoked.

The Wildchild came to the rescue. She shut her eyes and concentrated. After a few minutes, she intoned how meat and fish were hung in a small hut and smoked over a slow fire.

This was another of Wildchild's unique talents. So far, only Tamar, Hazel, and Madam Gloria knew about her perfect memory. Mirselene was impressed. It also answered a question about Wildchild that had bothered her ever since she had known the girl: How come such a clever young woman, brilliant in many ways, read so little? Tamar was a confirmed bookworm, and Hazel brought her books with her.

The answer was that Wildchild never needed to read a book twice nor even tarry over reading.

She could flip the pages quickly and absorb everything.

Wildchild's smoking-room principle seemed simple enough. Almost the whole Tribe got involved after the usual arguments and misunderstandings, which the women seemed to enjoy almost as much as getting it right the first time; they built a tall, thin hut over a shallow pit into which a fire could be lit.

Preparation for the rest of the building work was completed even before Ezra returned. Still, the construction was deliberately delayed so that his carpentry skills and muscles could be employed.

Constructing two new storage huts began well and greatly pleased the builders, especially Ezra. He enjoyed hard, productive work, so he took off his shirt and worked up a sweat.

Sharne, Dagma, Hazel, and Wildchild also built up sweats as they lifted heavy logs into place, planned their rough sides, or hammered in pegs to secure the planks and joists.

It was delighted builders who went for a wash after the first day's work and sat down for a well-earned feast and a happily anticipated argument about sex.

The Wildchild started the argument, as was becoming a pattern, though no one could blame her.

"Madam," she began, addressing Chief Mirselene. "Hazel and I want to have sex with Ezra this month."

This was a fair request on Wildchild's part. She was now twenty and fully entitled to demand her bedmate rights as a Woodlander. For Hazel, who was twenty-one, it was not so simple.

She hadn't officially joined the Woodlanders and was still technically a Farmer, so the rule that Ezra could take bedmates only from the three Outer Tribes should exclude her from being a bedmate.

Mirselene was a stickler for propriety, and Ezra worried about whom his children would mate with in the future. No one else cared much about following the rules, but Mirselene also had to consider Ezra's other bedmates, who wanted to enjoy time with him. She made these points gently, as a legal opinion, not a chiefly order.

The Wildchild seemed to have prepared her answers, however.

"Hazel and I want sex with Ezra just for fun, not for children," she explained, "so the rule about Ezra not having children with women from the Home Tribes needn't apply."

It was fine casuistry, which Mirselene acknowledged with a warm but dubious smile.

"How can you avoid pregnancy?" she asked.

"Our periods," Wildchild explained. "Hazel and I are synchronized, but because we live away from the camp, we're out of rhythm with the rest of the tribeTribere a weeTribeind everyone else."

"I see," Mirselene said.

Now, Ezra saw the deep mutual respect that had grown between Mirselene and Wildchild, noting that Mirselene was happy to indulge her young protégé. More than this, he saw how much they enjoyed their growing political contest, regardless of who won.

"Very well," Mirselene said after reflecting a minute. I propose that Ezra spend a week with Sharne and Dagma, a fortnight with you two, and the final week with Dipti and Urulla, but with two provisos."

The Wildchild and Hazel looked up with bright, alert eyes.

"If Hazel gets pregnant, she must join one of the Outer Tribes to comply with the law."

"I will, Madam," Hazel spoke up. "I will become a Woodlander!"

"Very good. Secondly, I know what lusty young woman you are, so I don't want you exhausting Ezra while he has so much building work."

"No, Madam," Wildchild answered with an ambitious smile and a wink to Hazel. "We'll do all the work."

"And be careful toward the end of your fortnight," Parvinder, the TribeTribe'se, advTribe'sI assume that the arrangements are satisfactory to you, Ezra?" Mirselene asked.

"Madam," he graciously answered. I've learned through experience always to trust your orders."

"Rubbish, man! However, I can see why you'd want to obey this order."

She looked at Hazel and Wildchild, sitting together. They were slim, handsome, healthy, strong, and irresistibly sexy in their posh frocks from Cloner City.

Wildchild's jet hair fell in tight ringlets to her shoulders, the longest it had ever been. Yellow reflections from the flickering campfire gave her a halo, whose saintly appearance belied her lusty smile and the sparkles dancing in her mischievous green eyes.

Hazel was even more beautiful. Now, she lived in the forest, sheltered much of the time from the bright sun. Her flaxen hair was half a shade darker, and her skin half a shade lighter. Her nose had cute freckles, and her cornflower blue eyes were sexually inviting. The broad smile on her perfect face was also inviting.

Mirselene smiled back at the two young beauties and said:

"All right, everyone, the discussion is over. Get out the drums, and let's have some dancing!"

That night and for the following week, Ezra slept with Sharne and Dagma, reconnecting after a two-month absence. It was a new thing among the Woodlanders for Ezra to share a hut with two women at a time, but as Mirselene suggested, no one complained. It was a sensible measure to use his limited time with the Tribe.

Dagma Tribed a second child, but Sharne was content with Pepi and Clara, so the happy solution was for Ezra to start off fucking Sharne and, after she had come once or twice, finish off with Dagma.

Sharne was fit and strong, with muscular thighs and medium-sized tits, whose big rubbery nipples responded well to a good sucking. Ezra made her come with his tongue and then with his finger. When she was nearing her third orgasm, he lay back, and she rode him until, breathing heavily, with clenching muscles and a satisfying cry, she came again and collapsed onto him, his stiff cock still in her pussy.

Smiling happily, Sharne climbed off him and gave Dagma her turn. As submissive and responsive as ever, few women were as loving and giving as Dagma. She surrendered entirely to Ezra and always came hard, usually ejaculating, sometimes fainting.

Stout but with stiff muscles under the cushioning flesh, Dagma liked it best when Ezra held her forcefully and gave her orders, but he never did what she most wanted him to do, which was to call her a 'whore' and a 'slut'. Every chivalrous fiber of his being rebelled against such unmanly language. The contrast between her need for his domination and his refusal to humiliate or abuse her gave their sex a remarkable tension. It was a nervy highlight after the tender build-up with Sharne. Dagma shook and bucked as she succumbed to intense multiple orgasms before Ezra, who could hold off no longer, finally pumped his seed into her, grunting in fulfillment.

She lay under him, holding him tightly, loving the feel of his hairy chest squashing her big soft tits, his hands in her thick black hair, hot breath on her cheek, their skins glowing from the exertion and the climax.

Tamar stayed an extra day in Cloner City, looking around and asking questions. She boldly knocked at every door in the Hall to ask its occupants what they were doing and, more importantly, why.

No one was too busy to spare a few moments to talk to their inquisitive guest.

Solange, who was there for her Currency Committee meetings with Breda, chief of the Miner Tribe, and Madam Law speaker, whom Solange and Breda had invited to be the third committee member, greeted Tamar incredibly kindly.

Tamar walked in on a committee meeting in one of the classrooms. Solange got up to greet her, inviting her in to meet the other committee members. She stood by Tamar, a little protectively, wondering how Breda might treat the girl who had been born a Miner, snatched and brought up by the Herders, and was now a Woodlander. The Miners were the smallest tribeTribelived a Tribee resentfully, Solange thought as a sort of cadet branch of the Farmer Tribe. If Mirselene was jealous of the dignity of the Woodlander tribe, who were independent and beginning to thrive, how much more so was Breda justified to be jealous? The Miners could barely afford to buy clones to keep their Tribe.

SolanTribeed should not have feared for Tamar. In addition to her admirable beauty, the girl had an open and intelligent personality, always ready to make friends and understand people. Neither Breda nor Madam Law speakers objected to the interruption but were pleased to answer Tamar's questions and explain the importance of their work.

The next day, after a long and affectionate goodbye to Carlin, Tamar took her time on the ride home, exploring a part of the forest she had yet to visit.

With her bow at the ready, an arrow half-loaded, she steered the pony with her knees through golden glades, alerting pigeons and rarer quarry.

Taking the long way home gave Tamar time to think. She felt happy that Carlin was on a new learning adventure, but she was sure she would miss her girlfriend very much. The girls had fallen in love only a few short months ago, but Tamar wouldn't become eighteen until the following year, so it was not a sexual relationship yet.

Tamar wasn't smitten by sexual jealousy, even though Carlin would be sharing a dormitory with four other eighteen-year-old Juniors. Still, as she analyzed her feelings, she realized that it was sex that was driving her. She was feeling the first itching discomfort of the sexual urge. It didn't help matters that she was sitting on a horse, the bunched-up blanket pressing on her crotch.
Tamar laughed to herself and resolved not to think about it for now.

It was a hot day, as usual. Although the trees provided shade, they also trapped the cooling breeze, so the short passage in the sun across the glade was sweltering. The skinny girl with long limbs, long golden hair, and a face of angelic beauty was dressed for hot weather, with a short leather skirt, a short sleeveless jacket that left her midriff exposed, and a leather strap protecting her left elbow from the kickback of the bowstring.

She basked in the heat but took pity on her horse. Tamar kicked her into a trot toward the shade.

As she approached a line of bushes, a cock-pheasant leaped out of the undergrowth, flapping its wings madly, trying to gain height but making more noise than progress. Tamar's reaction was instinctive. She pulled on the bowstring, aimed, and shot in an instant. The pheasant fell out of the sky, transfixed through its breast.

"Stupid bird!" Tamar said as she leaped down to pick up the dead pheasant. "If you'd stayed hidden, I'd never have seen you!"

Meditating on the foolishness of pheasants, the skilled huntress maintained a steady pace all the way home to the Forest Camp.

The huts were progressing well, so the builders took an afternoon off to put a roof on the smoking room. They had delayed this task until Ezra returned, wanting his advice. Together, they made a roof with adjustable slats to allow the fire to breathe and control the amount of smoke it produced.

Sharne and Dagma recommended cherry, oak, apple, or beech as the best woods for flavoring the birds. So, on the afternoon Tamar returned, an oak fire smoldered in the pit, and a few freshly plucked pigeons hung to cook in its abundant smoke.

When she settled back in the camp, Tamar was assigned to tend the fire under the smoking hut. Freya insisted on helping, so the two girls became responsible for keeping the smoky fire alight and tasting the pigeons to determine when they were done.

The construction project took much of the Tribe's time, a hard day's work, and a wash in the pool; there was usually an hour to spare before the feast. This was when Ezra kept his promise to read with Tamar.

They sat together, sharing a bench with a book on their laps. At that moment, it was the Bible.

Ezra helped Tamar with the obscure words. Tamar was a faster reader than him, however, and often had to wait while he caught up when she would impatiently tap the page with a finger or ask him where he'd got to, making him lose his place and take even longer to finish.

One time, Tamar didn't tap because she discovered her name in a rather insalubrious setting in the book of Genesis. She read the passage twice to make sure she understood the story.

Biblical Tamar was fearless and honorable, which Samothean Tamar admired, but it wasn't an entirely proper kind of story featuring prostitution, onanism, and borderline incest. However open-minded the Woodlanders were about sex, Tamar could be a rather prim girl, and she disapproved of her name first appearing under those dubious circumstances.

Later in bed, reading under the covers by the light of Ezra's penknife, Tamar hopefully flicked through the rest of the Bible, stopping when she found another familiar name in the Book of Judges. Here, amid a war, there was an appealing human vignette. After a series of male leaders, Israel was finally led by a woman, Deborah, who successfully commanded the army against the Canaanites. But the war was won by another woman, Yael, who killed the Canaanite General by hammering a tent peg through his temple as he slept.

That was the style! Here was an active woman who got things done! Tamar approved. She liked Yael very much and made her decision.

The following day, she went to find Ezra and, saying nothing, handed him the Bible, which was open to the relevant chapter. He read the story and looked knowingly at her, waiting for her announcement.

"I'd like to be called 'Yael' from now on," Yael said with conviction.

"Your mother will be pleased."

"I know. So, where do we keep the tent pegs? I'm joking! I'm joking! Hey!"

She leaped away, laughing hard, as his swift hand just missed making contact with her pert little bottom.

The Tribe apprTribethe smoked pigeons brought to the feast by Yael and Freya. The next day, the smoking hut was filled with fresh birds, some for eating and some for trading with the other tribes. Yael experimented with different woods and a more minor fire. She was getting a real feel for how the smoking hut worked, and Freya enjoyed helping her, carrying wood, and tasting the birds.

Ezra admired Hazel for transforming Wildchild into an elegant young woman he loved, though he loved the angry tom-boy just as much. In an idle moment, such as now, he wondered which girl was the real Wildchild, but deep down, he knew it was a silly question. More than any woman he knew, Wildchild was sure of her mind. She would only change what she wanted, even for Hazel's sake.
The Wildchild stared deeply into his eyes as if she were vacuuming up his thoughts, searching his soul, but she said nothing as he lovingly ran the back of a forefinger along her ribs, into the dip of her waist, and over her hip and thigh. She only smiled at her wicked, teasing smile.
"All right, Wildchild, what is it?" he asked.
"Why does there have to be an 'it'?"
"Because I know you. Also, why give an evasive answer if there isn't something?"
She laughed.
"You're so manly and silent," she said. "I just wanted to make you talk."
This is from a girl who spoke barely a dozen words from twelve to eighteen. He didn't believe her, but he played along.
"What do you want me to say?" he asked.
"Anything. Tell me I'm pretty."
"You don't care if I think you're pretty or not."
"Yes, I do!"
"No, you don't. But so that you know, I think you're one of the most beautiful women I've ever met."
"Only one of them?"
"Yes, only one of them."
Wildchild laughed. She didn't care how beautiful she was.
"Tell me something else," she said.
"What do you want to know?"
"Why do you call me 'Wildchild' when we're making love, but you call Hazel 'Sweetheart' or 'Darling'?"


To be continued