"Going Native," part 11

The next day, Maggie drank her riprasha drink and went foraging with M’li.  They were looking for the various herbs the tribe used in cooking and for their various treatments and rituals, as well as anything else of interest.  Several of the herbs grew in great quantities on the shore of the brook, miles downstream,  As a Tineri, a miles-long trek was no issue, of course.  And so Maggie embarked with her friend, in search of these sought-after herbs.

As the two walked, Maggie asked M’li about her background.  M’li had shied away from the topic in the past, but the bond between them was stronger than ever, Maggie figured.  She was correct - M’li relayed her story as they walked.

M’li had grown up American, she explained, like Maggie.  In college, she majored in anthropology.  A few years ago, she traveled to Africa to observe one of the tribes she had learned about -- the Tineri -- and in the course of observation, she somehow growing attached to the tribe, to the point that she wanted to join.  She learned to live by tribal customs, she learned the language, and she underwent the same sorts of body modifications Maggie was now undergoing.  Eventually, she was accepted as a member of the tribe.

Maggie stopped, her bare feet sodden in mud, and grabbed M’li by the arm.  In the Tineri tongue she now used exclusively, she asked her friend, “Is there hope for me?  Is it possible that, one day, I’ll be accepted as a Tineri, just like you?”  

M’li smiled.  She knew this disquiet well, and she also knew how to remedy it.  Taking Maggie by the hand, she guided her to the bank of the brook.  “Look at the water.  What do you see?”

“I see where we collect our water and wash our pots.”

“Yes, but look *in* the water.”

Maggie looked again at the slowly-moving water and saw, for the first time in months, her reflection.  “I see myself.”

M’li approached Maggie from behind.  “Good.  Tell me about this woman you see,” M’li said as she snaked an arm around Maggie’s waist.  

Paying attention, Maggie noticed how different she looked.  The American who went on safari would scarcely recognize the woman she had become.  Her long blonde hair had grown unruly.  Her natural peachy complexion had turned deeply bronzen, including her breasts, which also bore the beginnings of Tineri-style nipple rings.  While her face retained elements of the classic Western beauty she had been, those elements were overwhelmed by the tribal modifications she had undertaken.

“I see … myself … trying …”

“Yes, love, you are trying so hard …  and I have faith that you will realize your dreams,” M’li said.  She raised the arm around Maggie’s waist and began to fondle one of Maggie’s nipple piercings.  Maggie yelped - it was still tender - and the girls both laughed.

“Someday soon, you’ll have nice rings in your tits, like mine,” M’li reassured her protege.  

“Mmmmm… I can’t wait, love.”  Maggie imagined herself with gigantic rings through each nipple, of the sort that pierced M’li’s.  She could practically feel the rings’ weight, dragging her nipples down, elongating them over time.  The thought was titillating, but Maggie glanced at her lover’s chest and shook the thought off.  Maggie’s bronze bee-stings would never compare to M’li’s glorious ebony rack, nor would Maggie’s pinkish areolas ever compare to the magnificence dark circles around M’li’s nipples.  

Turning sour, she confided in M’li, “Even with rings, I’ll never have tits like yours.”

“Shhh, love.  Look at our feet.”  

Maggie looked down.  M’li placed her right foot alongside Maggie’s right, to ease the comparison.  Perhaps it was just wishful thinking, but Maggie thought her toenails looked longer.  No matter - they’d be as long as any other Tineri woman’s soon enough.  Her bare feet had a thin layer of dust on the bottoms and between the toes, remnants of walking through a puddle and picking up dirt from the path.  The tops were deeply tanned.  She didn’t even feel the toe rings while she was walking, they fit so snugly.  Those rings were very sexy, though it occurred to her that they would leave unmistakable tan lines were they ever removed.  Another difficulty she encountered as a white woman that her Tineri sisters didn’t.  

Maggie eyed the M’li’s ebony foot with a mix of awe, jealousy, and lust.  The deep brown coloring of the tops juxtaposed wonderfully with the peach bottoms.  The toenails were just long enough to start to curve.  And Maggie, despite worshipping M’li’s feet many times, noticed for the first time that her toe rings had actually grown flush with the skin - her toes had essentially incorporated the jewelry into them.  Maggie wondered if that could ever happen to her feet.

Her sour mood continued.  “I’ll never have feet as pretty as yours, either.  Mine are tan, but they’ll never be dark like yours.”

“Shhh, love.”  M’li pivoted to face Maggie, who turned into the embrace, the two wrapping their arms around each other.  M’li turned her head, with Maggie gratefully parting her lips to accept M’li’s tongue.  They made out for minutes, standing alone on the path.

M’li broke the kiss to whisper, “What if you could be more like me and our Tineri sisters?”

“You know I’ll do anything to be accepted as one of the tribe.”

“I know, love.  But I don’t know that you understand what I’m saying.  If there was a way to make you *fully* Tineri, would you take it?”

“There is nothing I would want more.”

“Even if it meant that there would be no going back?  You could never leave us?”

“I don’t want to leave!  I want to be a Tineri!”

“Good, love.  Our riprasha is coming up.  I think you’ll be ready.”  

Maggie didn’t understand what the riprasha entailed or what exactly M’li meant, but she was very aroused at the thought of becoming a full-fledged member of the tribe.  She reached for M’li’s loincloth but was rebuffed.

“Later - we have to get those herbs.”  The girls continued their walk.

*****

Several miles down the shore, Maggie noticed some signs of civilization.  She could hear cars whizzing somewhere nearby, and in the distance, she could see tall buildings peer out over the tree line.  The soil beneath her feet turned to sand.  She was on a beach.

M’li led her down to the ocean shoreline and across, past several “PRIVATE PROPERTY” and “NO TRESPASSING” signs.  The calming rhythm of the waves crashing, along with the ocean breeze, reminded Maggie of another time in her life, when she loved going to the beach with her girlfriends and laying out in the sun for hours.  She would load up her Jetta with a beach bag and some book about sexy vampires, head down to South Beach, and set up shop for the day.  It amazed Maggie how foreign all of that seemed to her now.

Out of the corner of her eye, she detected movement.  A beach ball!  Drawing on reflexes honed as a second team all-ACC volleyball player, she turned and thumped the ball back where it came from.  It fell unreturned, the ball’s owner standing agape at the two topless women wandering by.  It was then that Maggie realized that M’li had taken her by the resort she was staying at, back when she was a mere tourist in Africa.

A gaggle of resort staff swiftly approached her and M’li, surrounding them and demanding that they leave.  M’li feigned a lack of understanding of their English directives and tried to march on, but the staff blocked her.  The commotion attracted a small crowd of guests.  It was then that Maggie realized that she was the object of the commotion - the white woman who had “gone native.”  

She suddenly felt naked and instinctively covered her chest with her arms, but M’li pried the arm apart and returned them to her side.  In Tineri, she hissed, “Fuck them.  You aren’t one of them any more.  You are Tineri!”

M’li was right.  Who gave a shit what some tourists thought of her?  Yes, she was white, but she wasn’t bound by her old standards for beauty or acceptable attire.  She loved wearing only a loincloth, having numerous face piercings, and decorating her feet - each of these things made her more Tineri.  With pride, she joined M’li in trying to advance past the staff and down the beach.

Eventually, though, staff reinforcements arrived, and the two girls were forced to turn around and find another way.  As they retreated, though, Maggie caught a glimpse of a tall brunette on the beach, wearing an expensive-looking magenta  bikini.  Juliana?

Before Maggie could verify the identity of this woman, M’li pulled her into the water.  They swam out to sea and around the resort, before returning to shore and collecting the herbs they were after.