Conans Island Adventure

The waves crashed gently against the sandy shore, and palm trees gleefully peered from the island coast, their leaves damp with the jungle mist. Conan could feel the soft sand beneath his back and the salty ocean water licking at his feet. Groggily, he began to regain his senses and ponder the circumstances of his arrival here. All he could recall was the fierce storm that ravaged the merchant ship that he had found passage on, and the roaring thunder of the vicious ocean that tore the ship in two. He had gripped the ship's broken mast that fell into the sea and held for dear life. Now he lay on unknown shores.

Naked and bruised, Conan searched the coast for any wreckage that might aid in his survival. Along the shore there lay small remnants of his ship, mere wooden fragments of a once mighty merchant vessel. Nothing of use could be found, so Conan ventured into the island jungle. He broke a solid branch from one of the trees and fashioned this into a wooden spear as he walked deeper into the forest. Suddenly, he smelled the faint hint of smoke and of broiling meat. Crouching carefully, he quietly made his way to the source of the aromas, wary of cannibals and savages that may lurk in the depths of the jungle. Soon a clearing emerged wherein lay a tribal village. Naked and dark skinned bodies clamored about a great fire where a vast boar was being roasted, yet the tribesmen bore no weapons of any kind and merely shared drinks among themselves. Thin and slender, many of them were of youthful vigor. The women raised cups to their mouths and drank feverishly while the men chanted in unison. Conan, having no fear of unarmed tribesmen, emerged from the thicket and hailed them boldly.

The tribesmen did not recoil in fear nor rally with bloodthirst; they clamored in curiosity and surrounded the barbarian with welcome. Batu, the tribal leader, approached Conan in earnest. "It is rare that we receive a visitor on our island, what brings you to our land?"

"I was wrecked ashore by a powerful storm. Nothing remains of my crew or the vessel I sailed in. I bid that you welcome me here as a guest and aid me in my travels."

"You are welcome to live among us as one of our own. We are a peaceful people that do not kill our fellow man so long as he is friendly to us. Every so often, traders will visit here to buy spices and fruits, but they come here very rarely so we are always pleased to see outsiders."

"Then I shall drink among you and learn your ways," said Conan heartily.

Batu handed a large wooden cup filled with an aromatic broth, and Conan drank it with gusto. The liquid imbued him with energy, fierceness and pleasure. The men and women cheered as Conan emptied his cup and so they began their feast.

It was soon that Conan learned much of this village and their way of life. They did not worship any God of the mainland - they held the female form to be of utmost beauty and perfection. Their goddess, Bastet, was a goddess of beauty, charm, and seduction. To them, the meaning of life was reproduction. Stones do not make new stones - life copulates and creates anew. Life eats, drinks and leaves waste. Life is sacred and beautiful.

The women of the tribe kept themselves in good form, both young and old. They exercised their bodies to the extent that they bore slender forms and lean muscles that would glisten in the light, and both men and women always went naked, whether day or night. No shame existed among these people, for to them all functions of life were just and natural. Men and women made love where they pleased, and urinated as they felt the urge. Some short distance from the village, there stood a great altar to Bastet, where the villagers made ritual sacrifice to their God. Upon conclusion of the feast, Conan joined the villagers in this ceremony where he witnessed their tribute to Bastet.

The women stood or squatted before the Altar, crying "I give my essence to Bastet! I give my body and my life to Bastet," whereupon they relieved themselves in full view of the other villagers. Single, or by pairs, or trios, the women urinated or defecated in front of the altar, the waste leaving their bodies and finding itself on the jungle ground in plain sight.

"This is our sacrifice to Bastet, we cherish the life she has given to us, the love she lets us feel, and give to her the products of our bodies," explained Batu. "All parts, all functions of the body are sacred. We are given the gifts of food and drink, and Bastet beckons us to repay her with urine and faeces."

As a barbarian by birth, Conan had witnessed many primitive lifestyles and traditions. This was by no means unusual, and the words of Batu were logical, for what shame is there in the human body and its processes? Men were born to live, to love, to eat and drink and relish in gifts that life offers them, a stark contrast to the sophistry of civilized men that ruled with shame, fear, and delusions of propriety.

"I understand your way, and I will adopt it during my stay here."

"Then take one of our daughters, learn to love as one of us, be at peace with the earth and enjoy its splendour," replied Batu with excitement.

Women thronged about Conan, allured by his vast form, hardened gaze, and stern demeanour. One woman in particular caught his eye, a shapely woman with a lean body and long dark hair that draped down to her rear. She had sharp features, dark eyes that pierced one's heart, and tanned skin but lighter than most of the other tribal women. From the crowd of women, Conan selected his mate and beckoned her close to him. She wrapped her arms around him lovingly and cooed like a gleeful bird in his embrace. "I am Vera, daughter of Taro, the strongest hunter and warrior of our tribe. I will bless you with Bastet's love." Thereupon she began to urinate, still standing beside him, her urine gliding over his legs and wetting his feet, like an animal in heat, she had marked her territory. Conan, in turn, motioned that she kneel, and urinated over her shoulders, breasts and stomach, coating her body with the fluids of life. Her wet body glistened in the sun and the tribesmen cheered, singing the song of Bastet. Vera laid on her back in the dirt and spread her legs with warm welcome, and the two proceeded to make passionate love. An orgy ensued, the tribespeople descending upon each other's partners with sacred lust and desire, their cries and shouts echoing throughout the island jungle.

Conan awoke the next morning in a leafy hammock beside one of the long houses, with Vera standing and waiting beside him, having woken shortly before him. Her face bore an eager grin, as if she was excited to show something. She bestowed many kisses upon the groggy barbarian, and she beckoned him to look closely. "Watch me, Conan, watch my body and see what I create with the food and drink of life." Shortly thereafter she squatted close to the ground, sighing as the urine and faeces began to flow from her body and accumulate in the dirt. A small mound of faeces formed and she completed her task with cheerful satisfaction. Conan took her in his arms and urinated upon her, satisfying his own urge to relieve himself, and then they made love again beside the leafy hammock.

With her morning urges attended to, Vera sought to please her new man and show him the fruitfulness of her body. She drank much throughout the day, seeking to fill her bladder, and she urinated wherever they she pleased. As the two prowled in the woods in search of game to hunt for the day's feast, Vera paused to relieve herself as she crouched in the thicket. The urine gushed from her body in a great torrent, and upon completion, she took her water flask and drank heartily to refill her bladder.

Some time later, spotting a great boar, Conan rushed from the thicket and tossed his spear with incredible force, slaying the beast with a single throw. Vera approached the corpse of the animal and blessed their meal with her essence; she gracefully urinated on the ground below and on thick hide of the fallen beast before drinking yet again from her flask.

As Conan set the boar to roast, the fire roaring below it and searing the tender flesh, Vera remained beside him. Feeling the urge of nature once more, she relieved herself with great excitement, her urine streaming to the ground as Conan watched her.

By evening time, Conan lay in the hammock again, yet Vera still stood near. She called upon him to look, and he saw her squatting over the pile of faeces from earlier that same morning. With a grunt she emptied herself yet again, her faeces coiling below her and rising to a greater height than before. Then, she climbed atop Conan laying in the hammock, and urinated profusely, the fluids of her body gliding over his own like the small streams coursed through the thickets of the island. The aromas of her body assaulted the senses; her urine, faeces, sweat, breath, cum, the culmination of her very being all intermingled at once as they made love once more. This was a primal embrace that stripped man down to his very core, an embrace that confronted him with the primordial definition of what it is to be human.