This is a sexual story written and copyrighted by me, Shon Richards.  
Please don't post, repost or place on your website without asking me first.  
Send comments to shonrichardshsd@earthlink.com.

	This story was written in the spirit of the Jungle Girl Genre.  For more 
information on this unique culture, I recommend 
http://www.geocities.com/area51/aurora/2669/sheena.html

Birth of the Jungle Goddess
By Shon Richards

Somewhere in the Congo, 1886
	Elizabeth Ellison fell to the ground again.  She couldn't pick 
herself up because her hands were tied behind her back, but the natives 
were quick to lift her.  The rope around her neck pulled her 
cruelly, urging her to keep moving.  She knew better than to protest.  
The heartless black savages who had captured her husband's expedition 
had killed two men already who had complained.  These brutes had led 
them on a terrible pace through the jungles of Africa for most of the 
morning and they didn't like to be slowed down by weak whites.  

	Mr. Ellison, her husband, was in front of her.  She winced when 
she saw the marks on his back from where the natives had beaten him, 
but she was also smiling.  Her husband had given worse beatings to the 
servants back in London.  A few times he had even raised his hand to 
her.  She would have never married the lout if it weren't for her 
parents.  They were as hungry for Mr. Ellison's estates as Mr. Ellison 
had been for her family's money.  As a young girl of barely 16, 
Elizabeth was merely a bargaining tool for her family and at her 
current age of 20, she was still just a piece of property to her pig of 
a husband.

Elizabeth growled to herself as she was pulled through sharp 
grass.  They had been captured at dawn and they didn't allow Elizabeth 
to dress herself at all.  She was still wearing her sleeping gown with 
only a pair of stockings to cover her feet.  The sweat of the morning 
journey was soaking her gown to her body, and Elizabeth was terribly 
embarrassed by the way her gown was clinging to her small breasts and 
backside.  The harsh grasses of this unforgiving land were shredding 
her stockings.  She felt naked without her corset, undercoat, dress and 
umbrella.    

What was odder was the way the savages kept looking at her with 
something akin to lust.  Elizabeth was not used to that kind of look.  
She had always been a homely girl with skin that was always breaking 
out and breasts that were only slight hills on her flat chest.  
Her blonde hair was dull and always too curly to decorate like her 
sister's hair.  Her family had impressed on her that she was lucky to 
get married at all with her looks, yet these savages seem to be 
absolutely ogling her.
  
Elizabeth squealed as a snake ran across her feet.  The natives 
didn't even pause though they did laugh at her.  Elizabeth glared at 
them.  She was past the point of caring.  She didn't even want to 
come on this hunting trip to Africa but Elizabeth's concerns weren't a 
concern to Mr. Ellison.  He wanted to have some trophies on his wall 
and he didn't care one bit that he elephant he shot yesterday had been 
asleep when he killed it.  Mr. Ellison saw Africa as one big playground 
placed there for his amusement.  He brought Elizabeth along to make 
sure his tea was always ready, and most likely, to prove what a 
powerful man he was.  

Finally, they reached a primitive village located next to a 
river.  The entire population of the village was present, and Elizabeth 
could read the hatred and mocking in their faces.  They spat at Mr. 
Ellison as he was paraded past them, and Elizabeth couldn't help but 
smile.  The bastard could use a good spitting on.  The village people 
ignored the rest of their helpless party; the servants and other 
hunters didn't earn their scorn for some reason.

The natives forced the members of the hunting party to kneel 
before a young man who sat on a throne of bone.  Elizabeth was struck 
by how young the Negro was, barely sixteen.  She saw Mr. Ellison kneel 
with defiance, a smug smile on his face.  He didn't respect the boy 
leader.  Perhaps, Elizabeth mused, it was because the boy leader was 
the same age she had been when he married her.

The young boy spoke in a strange tongue to the natives who had 
captured them and Elizabeth didn't understand a word, but it reminded 
her of a trial.  An old man stepped forward, covered in skins and 
bone jewelry.  He spoke in a cold tone, and the village 
growled in anger.  The young king then said something, and three 
natives dragged something forward.  Mr. Ellison was grabbed roughly and 
forced to rise.  He saw the carcass the three dragged forward.  It was 
covered in flies but it was clearly the elephant he had shot and 
beheaded yesterday.

"Oh, fuck," Mr. Ellison said.  Even his thick, British mentality 
understood what was going on.

They forced him to kneel again and a man stepped forward with a 
huge ax.  Elizabeth was in awe of the weapon.  It was impossibly large, 
with a blade that was nearly a yard long.  The huge black that wielded 
it was carrying its immense size easily.

"Oh dear God, No!" Mr. Ellison yelled.  "I can give you money!  
I'm rich!  What about my wife?  Take her!  Just spare me!  It's not 
fair!"

He was still pleading for his life when the ax chopped his head 
off with one clean sweep.  The village cheered, breaking into an 
unintelligible babble of celebration.  His head flew from his body and 
landed before Elizabeth.  She looked down on the head with an odd mix 
of apathy.  His heartless eyes were open and his fat jowls were sagging 
as usual.  Her husband was dead, and all Elizabeth could feel was an 
immense relief.  Then she spat on his face; doing what she had wanted 
to do for four years but lacking the courage.

The entire village became silent after her action.  Elizabeth 
looked up and was surprised to see them all watching her.  The old man 
stepped forward and touched her face.  She flinched from his fingers 
but for some reason, he only touched her cheeks under her eyes.  Then 
he shouted something that made the crowd of bloodthirsty savages fall 
back in fear.

"What's going on?" Elizabeth asked.   The other white hunters 
said nothing, not wanting to draw attention to them even to assure a 
terrified woman.  The British sense of chivalry was forgotten quickly 
in this savage land.

The old man pointed to Elizabeth and barked out an order.  She 
was seized and lifted to her feet but she refused to scream.  Now that 
her husband was dead, she felt a new freedom surge through her.  With 
the passing of that lout, Elizabeth felt like her life was hers again 
and she wasn't going to spend what was left of it in terror anymore.

Her resolve held out even when her captors unsheathed their 
knives.  She closed her eyes and waited for the worse but instead of 
cutting her, they were cutting her clothes!  Elizabeth opened her eyes 
and looked in horror as they sliced away her flimsy gown.  These 
godless animals were stripping her!  

They tossed the shreds of her gown as easily as they removed her 
dignity.  Elizabeth blushed with shame as the other white captives 
stared at her nudity.  She wanted to cross her arms over her small bare 
breasts, but the heartless natives held her arms with iron strength.  
When they ripped her underwear from her hips, Elizabeth realized that 
this was the first time her sex had seen the light of day.  The hot 
African wind blew over her body, and she shivered with a 
combination of shame and a strange delight at the coaxing sensation.

The blacks however were almost more nervous than she.  They 
ripped her clothes apart quickly and efficiently until she was 
completely bare.  There was no lust in their eyes, unlike the naked 
desire she saw in the eyes of the white hunting party. 

Once she was naked they dragged her towards the crowd.  The 
villagers parted before Elizabeth and the embarrassed girl saw where 
her captors were taking her.  A giant wood carving of a man stood in 
the center of the village, his arms open and his face leering.  The 
statue was eight feet tall and decorated with strange symbols painted 
on his skin.  

The old man ran ahead of Elizabeth to the statue.  Opening a 
pouch, the man pulled out an ebony object that he treated with extreme 
reverence.  Elizabeth watched as he placed the object on the statue's 
crotch.  Her British sensibilities were horrified to realize that the 
ebony item was a phallus for the statue!  The thick rod was obscenely 
large, much larger than anything Mr. Ellison ever wielded.  It had to 
be at least six inches long!

Elizabeth's thoughts of the phallus were interrupted by the fact 
that her captors were lifting her off her feet.  As they carried her 
towards the pagan statue, realization dawned on her.  She screamed and 
kicked, but the powerful natives held her firmly and pulled her legs 
apart.  With surprising gentleness, they guided her towards the 
statue's cock.  Elizabeth shuddered as the ebony phallus entered her 
slowly, giving her naïve sex time to adjust to the girth.  As terrified 
as she was, Elizabeth was also intrigued by the way it filled her 
completely.  Mr. Ellison never felt like this inside her!

When Elizabeth was fully impaled on the statue's cock, the 
natives pulled her legs and arms around her immobile lover.   She felt 
the biting of rope being tied around her ankles as well as around her 
wrists.  Tightly she was pulled against the statue till even her small 
breasts were crushed against the hard wood.  Elizabeth blushed with 
shame as she realized what a lewd sight she must present with her pale 
white feminine form wrapped around such a decadent idol of savages. 

She shrieked when she felt the statue move, but then she realized 
it was just the savages picking the statue up.  The statue bounced as 
the natives walked, forcing Elizabeth to bounce in an undignified 
manner on the statue's phallus.  Sensations flooded the woman's mind as 
her secret place was penetrated and fucked with a fulfilling depth she 
had never experienced before.  Elizabeth knew she should have been 
outraged, but was too shocked by the feelings within her to care.  Up 
and down the statue bounced inside her, giving her the fucking she had 
only fantasized about when she had lain with Mr. Ellison.

Elizabeth couldn't turn around to see where they were going but 
she could hear the rushing of the river.  When they stopped, she felt a 
flush of shame at her disappointment.  The wonderful bouncing had 
stopped and now the immobile phallus only teased her.  The old man 
announced something to the crowd of villagers while Elizabeth struggled 
to ignore the heat rising inside her.  She briefly considered rubbing 
against the statue, a thought she immediately discarded, but she was 
still embarrassed for thinking of it in the first place.

The old man finished speaking and Elizabeth suppressed a moan as 
the statue was lifted again.  The moan turned into a scream as the 
statue was thrown forward!  Elizabeth shrieked until her scream was 
drowned in water.  She had been tossed into the river!

Elizabeth struggled against her bonds as the statue sank into the 
water.  No matter how fiercely she pulled and tugged, the ropes held 
her tight.  The phallus inside her seemed to mock her, filling with 
wonderful sensations while she struggled for her life.  Elizabeth's 
lungs screamed for air while her sex screamed for more of the phallus.

The statue settled on the bottom of the river and luckily 
Elizabeth was on top.  The water was too murky to see but she nearly 
screamed when she felt something brush her bare buttocks.  The cold 
water of the river was a shock to her skin, causing her nipples to 
harden against the rough wood of the statue.  She pulled harder against 
the ropes but they held her as tightly as her sex held the phallus.  
Elizabeth threw her body back and forth to break free of the ropes but 
it was useless.  All she succeeded in doing was exciting her sex even 
further as her body humped the statue and the cursed ebony manhood.

Despite her panic, Elizabeth became aware of a strange 
development.  The cold phallus inside her moved!  Elizabeth stopped 
struggling and paid attention to the mystery happening between her 
legs.  There was no mistaking it, the phallus was throbbing inside her, 
pulsing with a life that was impossible.  Shortly, Elizabeth felt heat 
emanate from the phallus, a soothing warmth that filled her body and 
protected her from the cold water.  

Entranced by the strange circumstances Elizabeth opened her mouth 
and felt the water rush into her, yet, she didn't drown.  She opened 
her eyes and took a deep breath to confirm that she was in no danger.  
Against all logic, she was able to breathe the river as easily as air.

The phallus pulsed faster inside Elizabeth, making the woman 
shiver and moan.  Confused and completely bewildered, Elizabeth 
surrendered to the demands of her body.  Her arms and legs clutched the 
mysterious carved man and pulled the phallus deeper inside her.  A 
powerful shiver traveled the length of her body as she accepted the 
strange offering.

Elizabeth felt warmth spread over her as she fucked the carved 
man.  She had never fucked Mr. Ellison like this for he had forbidden 
her to ride on top, but then, she never would have wanted to fuck a 
cruel man like her husband.  Her motions were inexperienced but she 
quickly found a pace that she enjoyed.  She was steadily riding herself 
to orgasm at the bottom of a river in deepest Africa, yet it felt like 
the most normal thing in the world to the exhausted English woman.

She tilted her head back and noticed her hair was floating in the 
water.  As she watched, her curly hair straightened out of its 
impossible kinks.  As she felt the phallus throb inside her, Elizabeth 
felt her hair grow and lengthen magically until it floated thickly 
around her head.

The hard wood that pressed against her breasts seemed to press 
harder against her nipples.  Elizabeth looked down to see that her 
flat, unattractive chest was quickly growing.  She gasped as her 
breasts ripened, spreading and pushing against the wood as she achieved 
a bust that would rival Aphrodite.

All over her body, Elizabeth felt the changes.  Her thighs 
gripped the statue with a new strength and she felt the same power in 
her arms.  Her sex seemed to accept the phallus with a new grip until 
she could feel every mysterious vein and symbol carved on the ebony 
manhood.  All through these changes, she continued to grind against the 
phallus within her; enjoying the new levels of sensitivity she was 
experiencing.

She felt her body contract as she reached the peak before her 
orgasm.  Once or twice, Mr. Ellison had given her an orgasm by 
accident, but it was never like this.  Those orgasms never made her 
body tense with desire like it for her now.  Elizabeth felt a burst of 
bliss before the orgasm and when she did climax, it was like being 
kissed by a thousand warm mouths.  

Her climax sent her into convulsions as her body was wracked by 
sensations too intense to endure.  The statue snapped in half as her 
thighs clenched.  The ropes holding her arms were snapped by her sheer 
strength.  The phallus was ripped free from the statue with the power 
of her clenching sex; remaining inside her as her body reeled in the 
throes of orgasm.

When the orgasm subsided, Elizabeth found herself free.  The 
phallus was lodged inside her but she didn't care.  The sun was calling 
her from above the water and she answered its call.  She kicked upward 
and was surprised by how easily she cut through the water.  Swimming 
was as easy as breathing now and the depths of the river were no longer 
murky to Elizabeth.

She erupted from the water with a splash and Elizabeth smiled at 
the way the villagers gasped.  They didn't expect her to be alive.  
Well, neither did Elizabeth.  

The young woman swam to the shore and stepped out of the water.  
As she rose from the water, one of the natives screamed in terror and 
lunged at her with his spear.  Elizabeth grabbed the spear from his 
hands, amazed at how slow he seemed to be moving.  Without thinking, 
she swung the spear back at the terrified savage and broke the spear 
against the man's head.  The whole fight lasted three seconds.

Elizabeth looked at the spear in her hand in shock, and then 
noticed the rest of her body.  Her skin was absorbing the sunlight, 
darkening to a rich tan before her eyes.  She looked down at her chest 
and saw clearly the full bosom she was now blessed with.  Touching her 
face, she could find no trace of the acne that had plagued her for her 
whole life.  Elizabeth felt beautiful for the first time in her life.

"Hail Nyeki!  We are your servants! My name is Maori, and we are 
the village of Tesimbi." the old man said.  Elizabeth noticed that 
though she understood him he wasn't speaking in English. 

"Why do I understand you?" she asked the old man.  The rest of 
the village dropped to their knees in supplication.

"As the second wife of Ogulum, you are now blessed with his 
gifts," Maori explained.  "It is as the Prophecy explained."

The old man stood tall and proud as he recited the sacred words 
handed down through the generations.

"There shall come a woman, who will not shed tears for the death 
of her spouse.  Once her husband is slain, she shall wed Ogulum, King 
of the Jungle!  If he refuses her, she shall drown, but if he accepts 
her, she shall be marked and be known as Nyeki, the second wife!"

"I am alive," Elizabeth admitted.  "But what do you mean by 
marked?"

Maori stepped closer and carefully touched her hair.  Elizabeth 
reached up and touched the tress he had gathered and pulled it in front 
of her face so she could see it.  The lock had changed dark green in 
color!

"The green stripe is a mark of the Jungle King, and you are now 
our Goddess!" the old man declared with joy in his voice.  "Hail 
Nyeki!"

The village of Tesimbi cheered with him.  "Hail Nyeki!"

Elizabeth felt the phallus throb inside her as her name was 
hailed.  She reached down and pulled the ebony phallus out.  As she 
held it in her hands she could feel it's magical power.

"Keep it Nyeki," Maori said when she tried to offer it to him.  
"It belongs to Ogulum, which means it belongs to you.  You are his 
Bride, and his manhood is the source of your power."

Elizabeth gripped the phallus tightly in her hand.  She didn't 
understand fully what was going on, but after a lifetime of being 
helpless, she welcomed the change.  To test her new freedom, she asked 
about the other captives.

"We were going to kill them for defiling the jungle with their 
senseless slaughter," Maori proudly answered.  "But if you wish to do 
something else with them, Nyeki, just give the command."

Power felt odd to Elizabeth.  Her mother hadn't allowed her to 
pick her own friends when she was a child.  Her father hadn't allowed 
her to pick a husband.  Her husband hadn't allowed her even to pick her 
own clothes.  Now she was asked to decide the fate of others and the 
power felt as exhilarating to Elizabeth as the orgasm Ogulum gave her.

"Mr. Wells," Elizabeth said to the eldest of the hunters.  He was 
staring at her breasts until she addressed him.  Now he was looking at 
her face with fear in his eyes.

"You and the others are free to go.  I wouldn't come back if I 
were you," she told him.

"What about you?" Mr. Wells asked.  "You're not going to stay 
with these savages, are you?"

Elizabeth looked at the villagers of Tesimbi and saw another 
thing she had never seen before.  It was respect.  She decided she like 
that too.

"I'm staying," she said.

"What will I tell your parents?" Mr. Wells pleaded.  As a British 
gentleman, he thought the mention of her parents would shake this silly 
girl into thinking straight.

He was wrong.

"Tell them that Elizabeth died," she told him and she knew it was 
the truth.  

"I'm Nyeki now."