Message-ID: <3583eli$9709011202@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: MelLin6695@aol.com Subject: New TG from Waldo - Jane - Chapter 6b of 9b Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <970830120015_-1167316233@emout07.mail.aol.com> Jane by Waldo Chapter 6b of 9b Tarzan is a copyrighted character and this story is not intended to infringe on those rights. While my Tarzan has a similar storyline, its purpose is to entertain without claiming credit for the orignal Tarzan. All rights reserved by Author. Not to be read by minors or sold without explicit written permission of the author ****** 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. -- +--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+ | story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us | | Archive site +--------------------+------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | \ .../assm/faq.html> /