Jane

Jane by Waldo

All rights reserved. Not to be read by minors or sold without explicit permission of the Author.

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

Jane

by Waldo

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.

Waldo