Batwoman meets Catwoman Part One
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Nowhere Man, Book One.Chapter 27 free porn video
“Hail, Brando! What brings you to this tribe? Nothing bad, I hope?”
“Hello, Chief John. Maranga sends her greetings and love. She is well, despite a few minor problems in the tribe. She dealt with them well.”
“Then it is matters of the Maker trade that brings you here, Brando?”
“Indeed. We have been working on longbows and the arrows for them, testing as we went along. We have more or less perfected the bow as best we can with the trees available. It was surprising the variation in power due simply to the wood used, but we found the best we could, and certain types of bamboo performed surprisingly well.
The string for the bow was also a problem: We needed a material that was resilient but not stretchy. We did tests with animal sinew; with flax and other plant fibres, and several were very similar in performance. Arrows were more of a problem, due to the need for them to not bend in flight. Curiously, bamboo again did well in our tests. I had not recognised how sharp bamboo is on its edges as well as the point.”
“Does this mean you have fixed on a best result?”
“We have, and already started production. So far, we have two hands times two hands and more complete sets, but for every bow, we think we should have two hands times two of arrows for fighting enemies. For hunting, one hand of arrows should be enough per bow.”
“I would assume so. What sort of distance are you getting from your arrows and your best bow?”
Brando looked around for a comparison.
“Hmm… I would say, roughly, most of way towards your stream. What’re these whitish animals inside that enclosed area? Not very well camouflaged, are they?”
“Sheep. They are not normally found in this locality: too dangerous for them. They prefer the wide open spaces of grassy hillsides, so they have time to get out of the way of predators. The barrier – we call it a fence – is more to prevent predators getting at them, than to stop them escaping.”
“Why are you holding them there? And why so few? Are they difficult to catch?”
“They arrived – call it, arrived ‘by accident’, but they are useful if we can help them to survive. Their fleece provides wool, that can later be made into warm clothing.”
“WARM clothing? In this climate?”
“Perhaps I should have said ‘cosy’. Wool is more pleasant to wear than hides.”
Brando seemed dubious about this claim, for he was happy with his current clothing. He changed direction.
“What is the meat like? Or don’t you know?”
“The meat is pretty good, as long as the animal is not too old; for then it needs a lot of cooking. We call it mutton.”
“Ah. Sometimes the meat of older animals has a stronger flavour, I have found.”
“True, but most people prefer the younger, tender meat; just like younger, tender women in your bed.”
“For a Chief, yes. Us mortals put up with what we already have, John.”
“Actually, we have a glut of young women with us now. They were captives of a group of pirates we managed to dispose of. They were abused by these men, but we have the medicine to cure that problem, so that there are no ill effects, if you know what I mean.”
“I think I do. You think that some are looking for husbands?”
“Many of them were widowed by the pirates, and others were ravaged before gaining a permanent partner. These girls all think they are no longer desirable, so if you happened to meet one, or even two or three, and if none of them are already taken, you might go back with more than you brought to us, Brando.”
The Maker’s eyes lit up. “My wife always says that I am important enough to have more than one wife, so there would be no objection at home. My lady would feel socially superior as a result.”
“Then let me have a word with Chief Numa; to make the preparations.”
John wandered back to Numa and waited to get a word in, for she was busy issuing orders. He acted as if he was ignorant of the situation regarding the unattached women.
“Chief Numa, I heard we have a number of unattached females recently arrived? Maker Brando of the Farfarers would be in the market for another wife or wives, if any ladies are interested. He has an important position with the Farfarers tribe, so additions to his family would not go amiss, he has let me know.”
Numa smiled sweetly, after a brief pause.
“For a moment I thought you wanted to sample more women to add to your own family, but we certainly have at least a couple of hands of unattached females for him to meet. Send him to me in a few minutes, while I have these candidates assembled. They can meet him ‘by accident’ and get to know what he is like before he interviews them as candidates for his household.”
“Thank you, my darling Numa,” said John, and went back to brief Brando. Getting close to him, John remarked confidentially, “Have I mentioned caltrops to you, Brando?”
“I think you did, but I have done nothing about them; they seemed complicated for what they do.”
“Complicated? No. You can make four identical pieces of bamboo, each about the distance between thumb and spread forefinger. You tie them together in the middle where all four pieces meet, and for efficient use, you tie them to a long string, and a pace apart. That way, you can lay them out where you want, such as in front of an entrance, or in a pathway after you have gone past, so that anyone following will be pierced by an upward-pointing piece.
They are just as easily collected by picking them up by the end of the string.”
“So they are laid down by the last person on your side. That must make that warrior somewhat exposed, and I still don’t see them as weapons.”
“They are only dangerous to your side if you allow the enemy to get too close before they are deployed; not a good idea!”
“So you don’t have to carve them so that their shapes fit together? Just tie them? And then what?”
“For the simplest version, yes. You can also make the more complicated version, but anyone who can tie a decent knot can make the simple version in a few minutes, given the presence of bamboo nearby. If you want, you can place a scatter of these caltrops by tossing them at random, but gathering them up later becomes a difficult job. Those tied along a string are best, for that reason.”
“For a strong knot, you need strong string. Only certain materials promise that, but I know a few good ones. How do they act as a weapon?”
“How well do you fight, if you catch a thorn in your foot? This is the effect of the caltrops, only worse. What you achieve with them is either to incapacitate your enemies, or delay them so you can escape, or if you are really nasty, make sure the wound gets infected. That really disables the enemy!”
“Not all wounds get infected, with respect, Chief John.”
“They do, if you make sure that all the points have dirt smeared on them. That usually ensures that a wound gets infected by tiny animals that live in the soil. You don’t have to do that, though: it takes a lot of time to prepare caltrops that way; plus you have to make sure none of your own folk stand on one.”
Brando nodded, mutely, so John went on, “Sounds like you follow that plan. Good. Now let’s go back to meet Chief Numa and discuss your family requirements.”
The two men walked back to Numa’s seating area, further inside the cave from the fire, where she had a cluster of females near her. She watched them approach, and spoke to them.
“Ah, High Chief John and Maker Brando. Welcome, gentlemen to our discussion group. These ladies have been telling me about their expectations of life ahead, after their rescue. Some of them lost their husbands in attacks on their village, and others were simply victims of the pirates.
Ladies, High Chief John is my husband, and so not on the menu for marriage choices, but I understand that Maker Brando has just one wife, of some years standing. Is that right, Brando?”
“Yes, Chief Numa. High Chief John was telling me of the disaster that befell several tribes, and that you ladies,” he gestured towards them, “are some of the victims of that disaster. If there is anything that I can do to help, I am at your service.”
Numa told the women, “Brando’s title, Maker, is a reflection of his trade. He invents and builds weapons and mechanisms to assist his tribe in its work. What have you been working at currently, Brando? Anything interesting?”
Brando directed his reply to Chief Numa.
“At the moment we have developed our own design of bow and arrow, and are now building these weapons for our warriors to be able to use. My wife assists me by making sure that I eat properly, take rest breaks from my work, and get a good night’s sleep so that I am fresh to work the next day. That has not prevented her from having several children, and I am proud of both her and my young brood. She keeps telling me I should have additional wives to reflect my status in the tribe, but I have not found anyone who could fit well within my household.”
Chief Numa interrupted, “But that should not stop you from looking, Maker Brando. For example, all these ladies here, that I have been talking to, are unattached at present. Perhaps you would like to talk to them and find out a bit more about them, their abilities, training and talents. Someone might fit into your family, if you are lucky. You must of course convince the lady that you will be a good potential husband; she needs respect by her man. Please stay and talk to them, just to please me; will you?”
“To please you, Chief Numa, is an honour, so I will happily talk with these ladies. Should I find a more private spot to discuss things with them in more detail?”
Numa smiled cheekily, saying, “It depends on how private your ‘discussion’ needs to be, Brando. Please do not exercise that latitude TOO far at this time.”
Brando had the grace to blush, and accepted this determination. He excused himself, and moved in among these ladies, to talk with some of them, presumably. They opened their ranks to welcome him, having heard how important he was to his tribe. Numa grinned at John and the other wives, then gestured for the remaining unattached ladies to go in the same direction as Brando.
“Do you think that injunction will stop him at all?” she asked with a smile.
“Who knows?” John replied. “Leave him for a while; let him decide who he wants to talk to more seriously. He has a lot of options with that bunch of females: all ages, sizes and shapes. He may have to think about who will fit into his wife’s likely choice of acceptable. She may not want to see someone more beautiful than herself. That would be my view, anyway. I may be wrong.”
“In your case, my darling, your women chose you, except where you rescued them and they became yours automatically. None of them are unhappy with the result, I can tell you: pregnancies were by choice, you will have noticed.”
John looked up at her. “Maranga?”
Numa grinned again, triumphantly. “Pregnant; at least, she has missed a monthly, so it is probably true.”
“How did you hear?” he enquired.
“One of your warriors went to do some spear and dagger training with girls over there, and Chief Maranga instructed her to tell me.”
“That was rather nice of her,” John admitted.
“Yes. I think the message was intended to get back to you quickly. I expect the next message will be asking you back to visit her, so she can give you another chance to make sure she is pregnant.” Numa beamed her opinion at John, adding, “That only leaves this Jean woman. Can you believe she has not had a child yet, two hands of summers after becoming a woman?”
“Numa, that was Jean’s own choice, through her dedication to her work, after much training.”
“Granted, but can she do that work here? I think not, from what you and she have told me. She did not even have a husband, it seems.”
“Not unusual, back there. Woman were pretty independent, I have to say.”
They chatted for a little longer, then Numa suggested they retire to her furs for their own bit of pregnancy reinforcement, visible though her pregnancy already was. She found she was more keen than ever to fuck him, once she was pregnant, and that had not diminished.
They were about to retire, when there was a shout, followed by a thudding sound, like a heavy sack being dropped. John volunteered to investigate, and hurried in the direction of the noise.
He found Brando sitting on the cave floor, rubbing and complaining about his sore back and bottom. Jean was looking down at him, a frown on her face.
“However did you get a sore back, Brando?” John enquired solicitously, already guessing at the cause.
He pointed up at Jean. “That woman… did something to me, and I ended up on the floor. “I just put a hand on her shoulder, to say that I thought she looked a strong woman. She moved, somehow, grabbed my arm, and the next thing I knew I was flying through the air to where I am now. What did she do. John?”
John laughed aloud.
“She threw you, Brando. You startled her, and she reacted as she was taught. She is probably well trained in jujutsu.”
“Ju-ju? What’s that?”
“Ju-Jut-su, Brando. It is a technique for unarmed combat. Hmm.. that gives me an idea.” He turned to Jean, “Jean, have you been trained in jujutsu?”
“Well, a variant of judo, anyway. There are many related disciplines. Why?” She was still looking at Brando with a scowl, treating him as an offender ready to be arrested if he moved in the wrong way.
“I’ll tell you in a minute. Allow me to introduce you. Brando, this is Jean Harris, an expert in keeping order in a community. Jean, this is Brando, the chief Maker of the Farfarers tribe, here to visit us. He was invited to meet all the unattached ladies that are temporarily with us after being rescued from pirates.” He faced her directly as he added, “He was merely trying to get your attention, dear lady.”
“Oh. Sorry, Mr Brando. I reacted as I would if attacked. I was trained that way. My response was not intended to hurt you, just deter you from continuing to attack. I did not realise your intention was honourable.”
Brando stared at her, and asked John, “What did she say, Chief John? I did not get a word of that.”
“She spoke in her own language, Brando; the same one as my original language.”
“But you speak in OUR language! Why can’t she?”
“Her appearance here was not originally intended, so she was not prepared with… a magic spell, that lets one converse in the local language. Myself, Vickie and Sheila were all prepared in that way, but Jean was more or less flung through to here, unprepared, so she has problems we did not have.”
Brando frowned as he thought about this. “But… but your wives all understand your language, John; your speech.”
“That is because I speak in their language, despite thinking in my own language, and so they hear my words as meant in their own language, as you do; but they have also had my magic passed to them, so they can now follow what Jean is saying, in the language English. It takes a little time for that magic to take effect.”
“Ah. You can’t cast the same spell on her, can you?”
“I don’t know. It requires close touching, such as kissing, so that some of my mouth liquid reaches her. The spell is contained within liquids, you see.”
His face lit up as he got the idea. “Your wives; they got the transfer not just through kissing, but through fucking as well?”
“Most probably. I am still guessing about a lot of this stuff.”
“That means it may be a while before she could understand what I might say to her, right?”
“That is about it, Brando. Had you something in mind?”
“She looked like a tough woman able to cope with life as the wife of a Maker. I did not realise she was from your place. Not being able to understand one another is a drawback, I have to admit; and I should have known she was different, by her clothing.”
“Yes, that is so. She came through wearing that gear. Eventually, her clothing from her original place will wear out and she will have to adapt to what is available here, as do my two wives from my place of origin.”
“What clothing did you arrive in, Chief?”
“None. It was not known if clothing might stop the... magic bringing me through. It has evidently been clarified that clothing is not a problem after all, so Jean was able to come through as she was, but not of her own volition. Think of it as an evil Shaman performing evil magic on her. She is shocked to find herself here, and needs to find herself again. This is not a good time to approach her with any proposals.”
“You are going to make her a wife fairly soon, I assume?”
“I hadn’t gone that far, Brando. In accordance with our new rules in our tribes, she is the one who will decide what man she wants as her husband.”
“I keep forgetting the new rules, sensible though they are. Old traditions take a while to be overtaken by new rules, Chief John.”
“Tell me about it! We are gradually enforcing the new regime, Brando. The women like the changes, even if the men find it disturbing; their loss of power in particular.”
“That’s a technicality in most cases, John. My wife tells me how to behave; she quite rightly doesn’t assume she needs permission, for she knows I love her dearly. She is the one who will approve or disapprove of any choices I make here, so I have to be careful in what woman or women I select.”
“I see; not so different from me!”
Brando stared at John in surprise. He had thought John was totally in control.
“So we are truly not very different?”
“Not in the slightest, Brando; not as human beings. I am a simple man. The only difference is in knowledge and abilities. I have the benefit of knowledge that is unknown here. Unfortunately some of that knowledge cannot be used here, due to a lack of other things such as metals, plus man-made materials that do not exist in this era. I have also been trained in special fighting techniques, thus I am able to see new ways to overcome enemies; such as that gate barrier I got you to make. Sometimes it is simply a matter of learning to act in unison, rather than as individuals. You can fight more effectively that way.”
“You are indeed different, Chief John. Your position is fully justified here.”
Jean now interrupted.
“What the hell was that all about, John? You chattered to him in his language for ages; what was it all about? It can’t have all been about my reaction to him.”
John admitted, “It was a combination of things, Jean. He had trouble with your lack of the local language, when Vickie, Sheila and I can all speak it. I couldn’t tell him it appears to a be a translation system using nano-machines, for he would not believe it. Instead, I called it a magic spell, then had to explain why it didn’t work on you. I said that we had been prepared with the spell, but you had been hurled through by an evil shaman, so you didn’t get the spell.
That was almost a completely true description, but in terms that he could understand. He thought you were a tough cookie, by the way, and thought you might make a good muscular wife, but not knowing the language has put him off.”
“That is all I am seen as: wife fodder for randy men?”
“Hey, this is the stone age, Jean. What do you expect? Prenuptial agreements, white weddings, and a diamond engagement ring? He doesn’t even understand what a policeman is, never mind an FBI officer.”
“You are good at giving real downers, John. Is there anything left for me besides being a woman to fuck, and having children? I take it there is no contraception available?”
“There is, according to Sheila, but the whole point of marriage in this era is for procreation. Getting a man to take you on means having his children. There is no other point to sex in this time, apart from being a sex slave to some hoodlum.”
“You do know how to encourage a girl, John! Does the same apply to you?”
“You mean, if you marry me?”
“Yes. That option was suggested by your women. Does that automatically mean children?”
“Not necessarily. I am fine with you putting off having children, but all the other women of the tribe will regard you as a freak for that decision, or treat you as a failure as a wife – a barren woman.”
“Not exactly a range of good options, then?”
“Not many options for any of us, Jean. Vickie wanted to be married and have my children, so not a problem for her, but Sheila saw this as her best practical choice: married to a man from her time, who would treat her well and respect her. She is pregnant, pleased with life, and has become our local medicine woman: a valuable asset to the tribe.”
“But you don’t need an FBI agent, or even a cop?”
“Nope. We police ourselves; and all our women are expected to learn to be warriors as well as wives and mothers. You have a wonderful asset in your self-defence talents, so you can be our trainer in unarmed combat, if you would accept that position. The ladies will still expect you to add personnel to the tribe’s future viability.”
“You mean, have kids.” She scowled at John.
“Unfortunately, that is expected of you, if you are a healthy woman. The tribe will assist with child-rearing, of course, but most women want to have a goodly hand in the rearing of their own children. Even Numa, as Chief, will be a mother – probably the first of my family to do so; and she will be proud of her children.”
“You are telling me that I don’t really have any say in my future: I have to be a wife and mother. Shitty choice, if you ask me.”
John gave her an intense stare. “You don’t always need to be a wife. Concubines are expected to bear children as well. Numa might not approve of you as a wife, leaving you the choice of concubine, or as second wife of one of the stone age men. Most of the men are already married, apart from young boys of fourteen or fifteen. You don’t fancy marrying a teen lad, do you?”
She scrunched up her face in disgust. “Teenagers know nothing about love, from my experience.”
“Oh, it needn’t start from love: just him getting a woman of his own is the start point; love might come later. He is expected to seek a wife, as soon as he is a man; the longer he takes, the less his social position.”
Jean scowled at John again. “You keep trying to box me into a corner, so that I will accept your advances. Don’t count on it, man.”
“Not really, Jean. I am just stating the facts as they exist here. Actually, would you allow me to kiss you?” He held up a restraining hand. “It is a scientific experiment: to see if my translation nanos can be transferred to you by oral means. We have already noticed that the medical nanos are transferred through my presence, so probably through my breath. Kissing appears to be a more intense transfer.”
“Hmmm. Scientific? Do you mind if I run this past Vickie and Sheila?”
“Go ahead. I’ve no objections to that plan.”
“I want to speak to them about something else, anyway, so it fits in.”
She sought out Vickie, and found her with Sheila, discussing herbal treatments.
“Uhh, girls? Where’s the crapper?”
Vickie was quick to introduce her to the local arrangements.
“Oh, you are looking for the Ladies? It is the second trench on the right, outside. You’ll find a wooden seat over it, but be careful; it is not too steady, due to the ground settling.”
“What? Outside, exposed to the elements, and to the view of men?”
“Well, yes, though the men here have no interest in seeing a woman crap or piss; they see it so often. As for the weather, we keep a few gourds inside for night use, or in bad weather, and empty out chamber pots later, then wash them in the stream, ready for the next time. Did you expect to find a port-a-loo or something similar? Get with the program, girl!”
“I suppose there is no loo paper either?”
“Nearest thing is a pile of leaves near the cave entrance, freshly picked this morning by one of the kids. For paper in future, the priority is going to be for writing on, or for wrapping. It will be the final use for a sheet of paper: wiping your rear end, just like it used to be for newspapers a century or so back in our own world.”
“So, no paper tissues, paper kitchen towels, and so on?”
“Nothing. We have to invent our own substitutes, if the locals haven’t already done so. Welcome to our world, Jean Harris.”
“Hmphh,” was her only response, then, “John says he wants me to be the trainer in unarmed combat, for women warriors. You have women doing the fighting here?”
Sheila guffawed at her. “Jean, for a small tribe, especially one overloaded with females, EVERYBODY needs to be a warrior if the tribe is to be protected. John has been training the women in spear and dagger fighting, and one or two of the trained girls have been to the Farfarers tribe to do the same thing. They are a fearsome bunch, as some wanderers and pirates have discovered.”
“Front line fighters?”
“Of course. There is nothing but front line fighters in this era. No baggage train, no ammunition and other supply trucks to drive, no radio and other communications, no nothing; you are either on your own, or fight as a team. John has taught them to fight as a team. Me and Vickie have been part of the teams at times. Pregnancy does not excuse you until you are at six months or thereabouts, but morning sickness does excuse you if you are afflicted that way. That can be a real bugbear of a nuisance. For a while, Numa needed to have someone handy with a gourd if she felt sick, even while she was doing her chiefly duties.”
“So why does John want them trained in unarmed combat?”
“If they get surprised, away from their weapons, it helps to be able to overpower your opponents. The power of surprise helps, too. A bunch of slavers found themselves dead during the night, their throats slit by a couple of our men plus Numa. The remainder of the team escorted the captives away before the attack on the slavers.
John is a great believer in his dictum of ‘don’t give a slaver an even break.’ If they are found acting in a murderous way, he regards that as enough evidence to kill them any way he can. The recent shipload of pirates he disposed of by allowing them to poison themselves, the cheeky devil!”
Jean stared at Sheila wonderingly.
“You seem to have a very high regard for your man, Sheila. Doesn’t it bother you that he has so many women besides you two?”
Sheila giggled at the idea. “John is enough for all of us, Jean. His pheromones seem to have been boosted before he arrived, for the people who sent him wanted him to father a new generation of overlords, once he had started the process. Unfortunately for them, the transfer to here made him lose much of his memory, so his own inclinations took over, and he is working in the opposite direction, aiming to build a cooperative tribal society able to defend itself against interlopers. So far, he has done well, so that he has two tribes acting as he wants them to, and trading with other tribes is in full flow.
So, we are not bothered that he has many other wives, and they are not bothered about us. As long as we are all happy: that is what matters.”
“But who are all these raiders you talk about: slavers and pirates? Where do they come from? Are they locals that we have to watch out for, or what?”
“Not locals, no. The wanderers and slavers started out as displaced people running away from an army then they made use of their movement to attack peaceful tribes and enslave everyone of the right age and sex. All the others that they could find, they killed.
The pirates were much the same, except they seem to have been a bunch of deserters from the invading army. The found a trading ship and took it over as their own transport system, and acted like the other slavers. Almost all the unattached women here were rescued from the ship.”
Jean sighed and hung her head a little.
“It looks like I over-reacted somewhat.”
Vickie patted her arm. “It is understandable, Jean. You’ve been dumped here with no warning or preparation, and everything is different from at home. You were geared up to investigate a bunch of neo-Nazis, and all of a sudden you are in a stone age society. It takes time to adjust to the shock, but John is worth listening to.”
“Was that who I was working with? I can’t remember.”
“We worked it out from circumstances, and from messages that were sent through to what they thought was their very own storm-trooper. They got suspicious of John’s performance and sent through a replacement, but he fell into our receiving pit while firing his gun, and was killed by the ricochets. Again, they didn’t know, and sent through more ammunition, so we have a powerful automatic rifle and a load of ammunition. John doesn’t want to use it, though. He says that when the ammunition runs out, the rifle becomes nothing more than a club, so he wants to keep the rifle as a last ditch defensive weapon.”
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