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.Repatriated	By : keithcompany Category: Titles in the Public Domain > Gulliver's Travels Views: 3308 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: This is a work fiction, based on Gullivers Travels by Jonathan Swift.

Chapter List
- 10
- 11
- 12
Ted didn't have a favorite daughter. They thought he did. They fought over it quite a bit. In combat, it was an accusation.
"You should ask, you're the favorite!"
In private, each was sure they were the favorite daughter. Ted saw something of himself in each girl, and always confided this observation in them. He told Renee that her love of sailing, she got from him.   He told Emma that he saw his compassion in her. And claimed one or another trait in each girl was sourced from his genetic heritage.
He never said favorite. But they each heard it.
But if there was one thing he would acknowledge, it was that Louise was the one that scared him the most.
All the Duke's daughters were fiercely loyal, intensely curious and approached society's traditions the way cats approached yarn.
But Louise also treated other rules the same way. Push to see which breaks, the teacher or her grade, the cop or her head, the safety rail or her arm. Could the wagon axle rattle more than her steering could correct for? Could you outrun an angry bee's attention span?
It drove Ted mad. Until the day he heard an echo while disciplining her.
She stood on the edge of his table at Dollhouse. Mom and her sisters were in the gallery, listening. The Lilliputian standard for raising children was a group effort.
They felt that children should have the opportunity to see what others had done wrong, to understand what they were being punished for and how.
Ted remembered a few times his brothers had stopped hellraising and hung out at home. He had never been sure if they were bored, grounded or establishing an alibi. So he decided to parent this much in his wife's preference.
He was lecturing. "Louise, you have to be more careful. There won't always be someone big enough to reach through the fire to save you."
"Sure," she said.
"I'm serious! Rules are written in blood, young woman!"
"Like only having one wife at a time?" she asked.
Some of the younger girls gasped at the impertinence being displayed.
"No, no," Ted said, holding a hand out towards the onlookers. "It's a good point. Louise, safety rules are written in blood. Someone had to get hurt doing something, before they made a rule about it.
"Before I arrived, there was no rule about what giants had to do to row into Fesshtella Harbor. After I swamped that fishing boat, they made a rule. Someone got hurt, and now we know how to do it safely.
"Social traditions may or may not develop from dangers. Some do, some don't."
"How do you know the difference?" Louise asked seriously.
"If you don't," Ted said, tapping the table next to tiny feet. "YOU don't decide which ones to break. Okay?"
"Okay."
"Now, next time you have the opportunity to break a rule someone's told you, you need to..." His voice trailed off. He gazed into the distance.
"Sir?" Louise asked.
"I've heard this lecture before," he said absently. Up one floor, Emma, Renee and Mary started to raise their hands, admitting previous disciplining. He paid them no attention. "My dad told me this. But I never listened."
"Never?" Ritch asked.
Ted shook his head. "Well, not until it was too late." He leaned back. "When I was your age, Louise, rules were expressly made to be broken. Federal law, state and city ordinances, laws of gravity, traditions, social mores... Moral codes, the Ten Commandments. Everything was grist for the mill."
"When did that stop?" Hort asked.
"When I broke my arm." Several girls rubbed their arms. Louise just smiled. That meant she was the one most like Daddy.
Ted coughed. "I, uh, was doing something entertaining, the details of which will benefit no one in this company."
"Awwww!" six girls protested.
"Shuzzup!" Phoebe snapped.
"Dad caught me," Ted went on. "I got punished. And lectured. And told about the Blood Rules observation.
"But when I fell off the....entertainment, and broke my arm, I finally saw a difference between rules that keep blood inside the container and rules about which fork to use for the salad."
He stared at Louise for the longest time. She started to actually feel worried. He'd punished her before. But while Emma and Annette just went to pieces if Mom or Dad was mad at them, Louise considered it the price of business.
She did what she wanted, got what she wanted, and she got grounded or made to write a report or once she had to polish Daddy's shoes.
Now he was really looking at her, not like he was estimating punishment, but designing a way to 'solve' the problem that was Louise.
That couldn't be good.
Finally, he shrugged. "Okay. No lecture. It's not going to sink in until you break your arm, literally or metaphorically.
"You'll still be punished," he said right after she started to smile. "Just not lectured. Go clean the oven."
Cashpierent's oven was bigger than some of the classrooms at Hogwarts. It wasn't an idle punishment.
Just getting the thing cooled enough for the cleaning suit would take up a day.
Still, it was something she could do where Daddy wouldn't be staring down at her.
------
After that, the fact that doom awaited her would have given at least four of the Duke's daughters pause. Louise figured that it was a self-correcting problem. Until she had a need to change, why should she?
She just got sneakier at some of the things she attempted.
Louise was fifth of Ted's daughters, and Phoebe's first. She gained way too much of her mother's stealth. Phoebe and Ted commiserated with each other on the eternal paradox of parenting.
"When she lies, and I know it," Phoebe moaned, "half of me wants to punish her for lying and half wants to correct her. You know? Give her tips on what gave it all away, so she'll do better next time."
"I know," Ted would sigh. "Figure it's our job not to send her out into the world as a half-assed fibber. She should go Olympic or go pro."
"You guys scare me," Hort would say. Little Duchess Girls do NOT lie."
"Well," Ritch would mutter. "They don't get caught lying...."
"Whose side are you on?" Hort asked, scandalized.
"My daughter's," Ritch said with a shrug.   "If it's her or the world, I figure the world has the advantage in numbers. So they can look out for themselves."
Hort's anger instantly disappeared. "Our daughter," she sighed. They would all hold hands, laughing at how possessive the four parents got over their nine kids. Usually breaking up when another family crisis rose.
"Janet! Put your nanny down!"
One of the family traditions was that if a human-world puppy washed onto Lilliputian shores, Louise would be the one that would sneak it into her bedroom. It was also assumed that she'd be able to hide it from the family until it was house broken.
------
Her summer between graduating from Hogwarts and starting at Fenderflell, she talked her way into a midshipman position on Renee's ship.
Renee agreed to it. She knew her little sister had yet to have that 'come to egg' moment of fear, terror and realization. She assumed Daddy would think the high seas were too dangerous for an untempered sailor.
Daddy gave his blessing. He'd always hoped she'd have that satori where he could still watch over and save her.
But if that hadn't happened, then the Renee and the talented crew of the Shark would probably keep her great miscalculation from being fatal.
-----------
"You think you're immortal?" Renee shouted.
"Maybe," Lou shouted back. "I haven't died once, my whole life!"
They were at the top of the main mast, rigging the sails for a storm that was coming up fast. Lou had a Malone grasp of rigging. They'd grown up with a mast mounted at the end of Daddy's table and rushed up and down it at his orders.
Heights were no problem, either. They used to get kisses goodnight from higher up than any of the Shark's masts.
Renee had hoped the rain-slippery wood might give her sister pause, but she'd just kicked off her shoes and raced on.
"There are a few holes in your logic," Renee replied, making her end fast. Lou was already climbing back down.
"It's not exactly a logical position!" They argued all the way back to the deck. Ritch would have been proud of both daughters. She felt that if you couldn't argue and perform at the same time, you should concentrate on the argument.
Daddy would pluck the weaker debaters off the mast until Ritch was satisfied with their performance.
Arlene had once said that the Duke and Duchi didn't throw their kids in at the deep end. They grabbed the kids' collar and an anchor and jumped in themselves.
The storm opened up and Lou giggled at the downpour. She spread arms and legs and let the winds blast the drops into her face.
Renee let her enjoy it for a moment, then dragged her to the helm. "Take the wheel!"
"I get to drive!?"
"You're bigger than every man I command," Renee pointed out. "You fight the rudder until you get tired."
"Yes, Captain!" She relieved the helmsman and braced against the wheel. Renee and some of her crew watched closely for a moment, but her strength was a match for the currents so far.
When they were through the storm, Lou had taken the helm in turn with the other pilots and performed 'satisfactory.' That was Daddy's performance level for his daughters.
If an employee did as well, Daddy would have called it 'heroic.' He just expected more from half-giants.
But once the shark was coursing through calm waters, Lou had the energy to help rig topside again. She finally slowed as she slid down the lines to the main deck, adrenaline turning to toxins in her muscles.
"That'll do, Lou," Renee said. She clapped her sister proudly on the shoulder and sent her to the hammocks below.
And after three trips aloft in a storm, and running around on deck in gale force winds, Lou headed for bed, relaxed... And tripped over a lose running line. She went silently over the gun'ale and slipped into the waters below.
Pride hadn't kept her from crying out. She was still trying to figure out what had happened when the waters closed over her feet.
------
Lou woke with a start at sunrise. She was half way out of the surf on a beach, holding a coconut as a float or a pillow.
She stood up and scanned the sand, trying to see if anything threatened. There were some giant crabs nesting among the islands. They made short work of unprepared natives or sailors.
She turned around three times, coconut raised as a throwing stone, but saw nothing moving.
Then she tried to figure out where she was. The vegetation was thick. There was no volcano visible. And no other islands.
And no Shark. She had no idea where the ship had been when she went over the side, so she could be about anywhere.
And if no one saw her fall, then on one would know she was missing until they went to wake her up.
She started pacing along the sand, looking for signs of civilization. Or something more indigenous. Preferably one of the Duke's trading partners, or Renee's local contacts, or anyone, anyone at all, just not cannibals.
Hey, maybe they'd turn out to be one coconut short of a party, and would hail her arrival as a gift from the gods. "It could happen," she muttered.
There was a long spit sticking out into the breakers. She eased up to the edge of the last tree in the line, peering around the coast.
Canoes. Lots and lots of long canoes. She ducked back down and readied herself. Her head popped up and down a few times until she had a good grasp of what was out there.
She considered what she'd seen.
The boats were of several designs, indicating several island tribes. Some were the Duchy's trading partners, but not the best. And some contacts of Renee's. She didn't know how high they stood.
Mostly she noticed the cannibals. There was a strong representation of cannibals. But a lot of different tribes. She didn't know what that meant, but it couldn't be good.
As she considered the views, though, something bothered her. The big red boat at the far end. She took another quick glimpse...and stopped.
The red canoe was a sneaker. A big, giant sneaker. Like the old one of Daddy's that was in the Nursery playground as a climbing cave.
She finally ducked back down. "Oh, gods, oh, gods, oh, gods," she muttered.
Some poor Englishman had wandered ashore and the cannibals had gathered to kill her and eat her!
Someone had to get help!
She imagined fighting her way to the nearest canoe and taking off...and somehow outrowing an entire canoe full of chasing tribesmen. And somehow picking a direction by random and finding the Shark...
Even HER extreme confidence couldn't see this working out well.
No. No, if the giant was still alive, it was up to Lou to save her. She took a firm grip on her coconut and slipped into the trees.
Lou was surprised at how lonely it was in the trees. She was moving with stealth and deliberation, just as the Boom Mountaineers had taught all the girls.
But there was no one to avoid. No sentries, no one gathering food, no one at all. She started to think she might have been able to steal a canoe after all.
She was even starting to edge towards the beach, having forgotten that she didn't know where to go with the canoe if she had it, when she heard voices.
She dropped and crept slowly forwards, all ears, expecting to hear a babble. The languages of the tribes were very idiomatic. Arlene suspected they were purposefully obtuse, to prevent what Mom called 'intel intercepts.' Daddy said something about Klingons speaking Terran when they were alone and laughed.
The upshot was if you listened at any random hut, the chances were very good that you wouldn't understand what they were saying. That was a large part of why Renee almost never spied. They landed, she screamed and everyone fought.
It was Lou's favorite thing about her older sister.
But neighbors had to talk to each other, so there were three common tongues spoken through the islands. All the girls spoke one. Phoebe's daughters spoke all three.
Lou was very happy to hear that the speakers were using a language she knew. Well, with all the tribes represented, they'd about have to speak something common.
The common tongue wasn't too sophisticated. It supported ganging up on a threat, dividing the spoils, making peace, buying wives and learning the best way to appease the local spirits before they rose up out of the sand and nibbled your dick off.
The voices were arguing about a new god.
-----------
Lou went through the jungle faster once she understood what all the fighting was about. The giant wasn't in great danger, not right away. But all the men and half the women were on the other side of the island, waist deep in fishing nets.
She'd almost have to try to get caught right now. She pounded up a game path and jumped a stream.
The giant was in a clearing just beyond the next copse of trees. She'd hoped to get her own Dani, like Renee had rescued. Save her from the cannibals, get her to Boommountain, be the heroine, and this time without a crew.
Well, that fantasy was over.
A much better one was looking to come true.
She eased through the last row of brush and watched the clearing carefully.
A giant young man sprawled on the grass, watching three gangs of women dance for him.
He wore shorts and a t-shirt. He was barefoot, but his shoes were on the beach. And he looked very sweet when he smiled though she wondered why that came to mind.
He was smiling at the display in front of him. Daddy called the dancers 'hula girls' though he'd been corrected time after time after time. The wind dancers stood in a line, working in time.
Each wore an inflated bladder at their hips, a wind drum that bounced as they moved. They also wore rubber balls on strings tied in their hair nets. A good dancer could play both wind drums without posing a threat to herself or people around her.
A line of twenty girls that didn't cry in pain? That was the equivalent of a Royal Command performance of the Creshtendo Ballet.
This guy was watching three dance teams, sixty women in close proximity, dancing and moving and playing and not knocking each other out.
She wondered if he appreciated it.
He had something of an idiot smile on his face, reaching out every so often to pick up a dancer. He would play with the dangling balls, or tap the drum, then drop her back in place.
The fact he hadn't caused bleeding was a testament to the dancers' skill.
"Men," she muttered.
The giant giggled a lot at the dancers. They stopped and stood in ranks. He clapped his hands with obvious enjoyment. Of course, to the islanders, this was a signal for food. The women all ran away.
"What? No, wait, come back!" he cried, reaching to grab at the retreating forms. But he kept trying to grab too many and the individuals got away.
"This is no way to treat your new god!" he shouted. "At least, I don't think it is..."
Lou considered running over to get his attention, but paused. She wasn't sure why. Caution? Didn't seem likely.
That was when the food arrived. She'd heard the chiefs discussing the issue. There were no sentries in the jungle because they were all out fishing, or on the beach cooking.
Now they brought platter upon platter of grilled fish, steamed shellfish, skewered octopus and a few cauldrons of leftover bits thrown together. Arlene called this native dish poi. Daddy called it words he refused to translate.
Whoever this giant was, he either had a more forgiving palate or he was too hungry to notice taste. That put Lou in mind of the fact she hadn't eaten. She slipped through the trees, looking for food to snitch.
---------
She found an untended fire with some fish waiting to be roasted. Too late for the giant's meal, it was probably food for the workers.
They were all at the clearing, watching the human shovel it away. She grabbed a pink fish and slipped back into hiding, silently sending thanks to Aunt Arlene for serving raw fish so often.
Then back to watching over the giant she was already thinking of as 'hers.' An outlook that would greatly anger the nearest Islander chiefs.
He finished eating and women danced for him again. Singles, this time. He started talking to them, or to himself, trying to figure out which was the more beautiful one. Or which was the more graceful. Or which one was the sexiest.
The comments grew more and more graphic. The dancers couldn't tell whether he was complementing their skill or trying to translate their breast sizes. They just danced on and on.
He started to shift around, his clothing becoming uncomfortable. When one of the women on the sidelines noticed this, she started giving orders. All the men that had brought up food stopped watching the women and marched off.
When only women remained, and only available women, the one in charge shouted a single word.
The women stripped naked and started dancing in single file past the giant's feet. Their movements became more and more suggestive. Literally begging for him to pay them special attention.
"Ubba...." he said. "Am I supposed to pick my sacrifice? Do you guys sacrifice to gods around here?"
Lou heard noises in the brush around her. She remained perfectly still as men crawled through the trees to spy on this massive mating dance.
Horny Islanders were just past her shoulders on either side. She remained still, though she suspected she could have told knock-knock jokes and not been noticed. They were staring into the clearing.
So she was the only one that heard the older women beating the bushes with sticks and axes made from giant crab shells.
The resuling drama occupied her for a few moments, but the giant never noticed. He was protesting the teasing.
"No, honey, you're hot. Really. But we could never...you know. DO it."
Lou was SO tempted to jump up and say he was wrong and she was living proof. But she didn't. She wondered if the restraint meant she was growing more mature.
No, she decided. It'd just be funnier to wait a little bit later.
Frustrated medicine women finally pushed all the women to the edge of the clearing, yelling and screaming. A confused and very frustrated giant backed away from their anger.
Four women raked the sands smooth, then drew something on the ground. Lou couldn't get high enough to see what it was. But from the guy's reaction, it was something sexual. He writhed a bit more and blushed.
Then they led one of the dancing girls out to the drawing. She threw herself down over it and started to pretend to throw sex at whatever it was.
At least, Lou thought it was sex. Though she was past marrying age, the whole thing was largely hypothetical, still. And the Brownies talked of babies and eggs and reputations and marriage. Not about licking one's own nipples or dragging fingers slowly along the ground or bouncing while making excited little yipping noises.
But whatever it was, it was definitely getting a reaction from the guy. He started to reach down to the performer, pausing every so often. Like he feared it was a misunderstanding. Or a trap.
"Well," she muttered, "his instincts are good..."
He finally shrugged. "Well, obviously not a virgin sacrifice..." Then he reached down and lifted the girl in his hands. She started licking his finger, writing against his knuckle. "Bit of a tease, isn't it?" he asked.
She moaned and slithered over the palm of his hand. He watched as she crawled to his elbow. "We can't... We can't have sex. Not... Not like SEX sex, you know?"
The girl wasn't paying him much attention. At least, not his voice. She was very focused on his lap, trying to tug at his shorts. "What are you going to do when you get there?" he asked.
Lou had some ideas. She'd been asked the question a lot since she started school. Boys always spoke with assumed authority about vintage Gulliver porn they'd seen in their father's studies.
She and her sisters had just risen above the vulgar topic. Which was easy as they were always a head taller than any boy in their grade. Towards the end, they'd been taller than the teachers.
But...hadn't she JUST demonstrated her intentions? On the sand drawing? What sort of attention deficit did this guy have?
They were going to have to choreograph it for him. She suddenly imagined a sixty-person game of Twister. But instead of Daddy calling colors, that priestess/matron would be calling erogenous zones.
She could practically see it, "Left foot testicle." And all the girls that could reach it... She bit down on her lips to avoid bursting out laughing.
Meanwhile, the first bride had discovered the lower hem of the shorts. The wife the guy didn't even know he had been married to shouted victory and disappeared from view.
"What, whoa, what are you doing?" the giant protested. The matron shouted and four other girls ran forward, climbing over his crossed ankles to join in.
"Wait! Wait! We haven't been formally introduced! We aren't going stea.... Dee.... Eeeeeeyow."
His smile went stupid again, and he leaned back, spreading his legs. The girls scattered to avoid being kicked. "Hold on," he protested, wriggling to undress.
Lou covered her face and eyes as the zucking big erection popped up into view. And looked through cracks between her fingers.
Five girls climbed his manpole and licked, sucked, nibbled away. There was plenty of room for them all, she saw. Stroking and pushing against him.
He tried to make a few suggestions, begging for someone to climb up to the tip. They certainly couldn't understand him and likely didn't care. They were pretty excited about what they were doing...and who.
His fingers plucked one up as he stated an intention to move her to the tip. She screeched and clawed, thinking he was taking her away from the sex.
When he pushed her face against the helmet, she wrapped her limbs around him and started sucking there.
"Okay," he panted after a short while. "Okay, watch out, watch out, watch..." He grunted and arched his back, sperm spewing straight up into the sky, raining down on his brides and lap.
They went crazy, grabbing up handfuls of his god-giant seed and rubbing their pussies with it. Women that hadn't been involved jumped at his thighs, trying to scrape up their own doses.
"What are you....?" he started to ask, then laughed. "Well, that's ambitious, but it's not going to work," he told them.
Lou was THIS close to revealing their plan and living proof that it had merit. Her own parents had done something... similar...
"Oh, GOD!" she hissed. Her mind perverted the memory of the Englishman and his five brides. Now, instead, she couldn't help but imagine Daddy and Moms doing... Doing it. To each other.
She closed her eyes and tried to think of something different. Grandma Testy, maybe. Or soccer fields. Big green soccer fields. Big enough for her father to lay down flat and unzip.... AAAAARGH! she thought to herself. Argh, eegh and gluh!
Out in the clearing, she heard him insisting to five new girls that he was unable to perform until he'd recharged. "But," he said, "keep shaking those boobs in my face, it won't take too long."
They didn't know what he said, but they could see where his eyes were focused. They giggled and shook boobs.
Lou started working her way through the trees to get closer to his head. And farther from his lap or any place she might view it.
He was out of her sight when the brides' efforts managed to recharge him, and another hand of women brought him off. She had heard stories of an aphrodisiac in the islands, and wondered why they didn't give him some.
Then she realized that he'd need the doses from all the tribes just to restore him once. They might save that for the very end.
Then she was somewhere near his ear as he lay back and let the women have their way with him. He talked. He talked a lot. Mostly about gods and babies and soothing deep sighs.
And wishing he could actually get into one of the non-virginal sacrifices he thought he was getting.
They managed to get one more session out of him after dinner, then everyone ran. No one wanted to risk being near a god-giant at night. That was when Daddy had fired flares and now everyone knew god-giants could spit fire in the dark.
He was moaning about how tender his dick was as they left, and unlikely to get up and wander around. She heard his elastic snap into place and he moaned some more. Then he rolled onto his side, cushioned his head on his arm and went to sleep.
She watched over him as the sun set. A few birds landed on him, drawn by the bugs that were drawn by his sweaty body. She saw a few fairly big bugs sucked into his open mouth but he didn't react. "Eugh...." she mutterd.
Finally, when it was fully dark and he'd had a few hours of sleep, she stole forward. Standing by his eyes, she softly spoke. She didn't know his name, but guessed at something that might wake him.
"Boobies," she said. His eyes shot open. She could see them in the dark, but figured he was as night blind as Daddy and Arlene. He probably couldn't see her. She spoke quickly.
"Don't talk! Local superstition says only evil gods and dark spirits talk in the night time."
"Hmm?" he grunted. "How...?"
"Don't. TALK!" She tried to keep her voice low but aimed at the giant. It shouldn't carry too far, and most of the Islanders would be exhausted right now, whether from hunting, cooking or dancing... Or "dancing."
But his voice made the ground shake. Someone would notice.
"I'm a friend," she went on. "Probably the only one on this island. I know, you think they think you're a god, and they sorta do. But you're not the first god-giant to come to the Islands.
"My Daddy is from Seattle. He's gotten three women pregnant here, and we stand twice as tall as the natives.
"The chiefs want you to get all the women in their tribes pregnant, so they can have giant kids and the next generation can be huge warriors. The Agwanni's idea is that giants can better invade the nation of Lilliput, and you're smiling," she noted. "Did you hear anything after 'get all their women pregnant?"
He shook his head, the smile still shining in the dark. "Wonderful. Okay. Get this. They're cannibals."
The smile went away. "Yeah, they're not farmers. All their food is hunting, gathering, fishing or WAR. So they can't feed you forever.
"Once they're all pregnant, they're going to kill you and have a feast DON'T TALK!" He whimpered, either from fear or frustration. But he didn't talk, even to beg for help. She decided he wasn't as idiotic as he looked during the dancing.
"Okay. You're safe for a few days, at least. I'm going to figure out where we are, and which direction safety is in and how to get you out of here." She stepped closer and pat him on the cheek. "Your part of the secret plan is to have lots of sex with your brides, okay?"
She glanced over to see the smile come back. "Ah, who's a brave soldier, facing up to adversity and nudity? Is it you? Yes, you are! Yes, you are, uh.... Okay, very softly? What's your name?"
"Jamal," he whispered.
"Jamal? I'm Lou. I'm going to take care of you, okay?" She pat on the cheek, then turned and left.
----------
Jamal was quiet until the morning. And a little nervous as the women started trying to seduce him again. He started talking, hoping that there was one English speaker within the sound of his voice.
"I hope you're out there, Lou. They can't understand me, right? But if you're hiding I guess you can't reply. Oh, this is gonna suck. If I can only talk in the day and you can only talk in the night.
"Well, if you're out there, I'm Jamal, like I said. I'm from LA if you know where that is. I was a production assistant on a TV show, where this TV guy is going around the world in 8 days? And he... Oh, wow, that's an ass. Come here, darling."
She had constructed a blind in the bushes. It wouldn't last long under direct scrutiny, but everyone was distracted. The only people that came at all close were carrying food to the enormous stomach. They were looking haggard, stumbling under their loads.
One dropped a shark fillet on the ground and didn't seem to notice. It was too close to her blind, and smelled too good, for her to ignore it. She snuck it in and ate it quickly.
She did see the woman looking for it a few minutes later, but she was yards away from where she'd dropped it. The efforts to feed the growing boy, and his harem, were making the people loopy.
He might not have as much time as she'd thought. Pregnancies or no pregnancies, there was a lot of tasty-looking meat sitting there. People were going to start to wonder if the god-giant really needed his legs to plant his seed....
She waited until after lunch was delivered, then went off to explore.
She didn't recognize this island, and no others were visible from the shore. There was a mountain in the center so she climbed it carefully. The top had a tribal carving, something that Bumper, Boomer or Renee could have used to instantly identify the island.
But where were they when she needed them, huh? And why had oh-so-wonderful-Captain Renee drilled her on rigging before covering navigation? She moved slowly around the stunted trees atop the mountain, looking for clues.
All she saw was the fishing fleet. And a floatation vest. An orange mound was lumped on the beach, the same color as Daddy's old raft. It was obviously right where the giant... Where Jamal had left it. She glanced up at the sun and figured it was more or less to the south.
And wherever they were, Lilliput and Blefuscu were both somewhere to the south. So, it would probably be most efficient if she got him to the beach, got his float vest, and had him start wading southerly.
After that, staying away from cannibals would probably be the salient detail of their plans. Until Renee found them or Daddy did.
So with her 'plan' made, she pulled herself into a crevasse and waited until evening. No unnecessary skulking. She was proud of how patient she was being!
--------
When she did move back to Jamal, she heard a lot of arguments. Islanders from various tribes were fighting over food, over sleeping spots, over how ugly the other guy was and over nothing at all.
They had to use their common tongue to fight, so she got a pretty clear idea of the state of affairs. Men were jealous about their women fucking a giant. Men and women were hungry and tired. And everyone was starting to count on their fingers, just how long it was going to be before the women knew they'd gotten a baby off of their guest.
The tribes' peace would not last weeks of this.   She hurried through the bushes as fast as she dared.
Jamal was still there, moaning gently. She tiptoed up and pat his forehead. "Are you sick?" He shook his head, no. "Did you eat a hearty meal?" He nodded, a yes. She glanced to where his hands were. "Did the evil cannibal sex slaves rub your dick raw?" He moaned again.
"Well, I think we should try to get out of here. If we go now, it'll be hard to walk, but if we wait until they rub sores into your skin, you'll be in more pain in the salt water."
Jamal whimpered. She stroked his cheek. "There, there. Be brave. Be manly. You've had sex with thirty women this week, right?"
He glared at her. "Too much?" she asked. His glare didn't change. She started to describe her plan.
-------
About midnight, the tribes were awakened by screaming. Someone reported that the Atakewany canoes were burning. People shouted the Islander equivalent of 'I knew it!' and 'that's SO Atakewany!' and rushed to the beach.
Where nothing burned.
They had just grumbled their way back to their sleeping fires when someone started passing another alarm. The Festtuke were kidnapping the giant!
Who was found curled up and snoring. The chiefs became quite suspicious about this threat, while the fishermen and cooks started to joke with each other. If the Festtuke wanted to feed the man-mountain, the Festtuke could have him.
A number of false alarms kept the tribes up and grumpy, almost to dawn. Fishing nets were reportedly torn, a birth control herb had allegedly been found in the poi, war clubs were found purportedly stockpiled by the giant's clearing... And as people became more suspicious than alarmed, cries of 'for real this time' hardly increased their panic.
When someone shouted that the Ichigga and Festtuke canoes were on fire, hardly anyone stirred. Cries of 'this is no shit!' got a few people moving. More paid attention when the giant was, again, reported to have escaped. Those few noted that there'd only been one alarm at a time through the night.
When the majority of the tribes finally became convinced that the god-giant was gone, the exhausted, grumpy, hungry people largely turned to figuring out who was to blame.
--------
When the sun finally rose, Jamal was still wading across the ocean floor, surging through the water in a generally southern direction, dragging his float-vest behind him.
Lou lay across his hair, urging him to greater speed.
"Are you saying," Jamal asked, "faster, faster, you fool you fool?"
"Hey! My dad says that!"
"Yeah, my dad's a Cosby fan, too." He surged on through the surf.
Even in the occasional shallows, she kept him crouched down in the water, limiting his visibility. She stood up every so often and looked back but saw no sign of pursuit.
"Seems they'd be mad enough to chase me," Jamal said.
"I'm hoping their peace was so fragile they just pummel each other for a while," she said. She brushed her ears for luck and looked forward. A haze on the horizon might be an island or might be a storm. She brushed her ears once more and settled back down. "Forward, ho!"
"Are you kidding?" he asked. "We left all the ho's behind us."
"What?"
"Daddy doesn't call women 'ho's?' How long has he been out here?"
"What's a ho?" He explained. He tried to avoid vulgarity, but his allusions and euphemisms went right over her head. He finally explained graphically, wondering if they just didn't have prostitutes in Lilliput.
"OH!" Lou said as comprehension dawned. "Prostitutes! Women of negotiable affection! Sex workers! Ladies and Gentlemen of The Dark Palace! Whoooooooooores! Well, why didn't you just say so?"
"I was trying to be delicate."
"I've seen wild women wank your winkle, Jamal," she pointed out. "And tales of my father's bachelor party are available in the finer bookstores of two nations." She leaned down to stroke his forehead. "But that was very considerate of you."
Then she thought back to the start of the discussion. "But, no, I don't see my Daddy ever being out here long enough to start referring to women in general as whores. One or another Mom would set his hair on fire."
"One or another?" he asked, stumbling a bit on a sandbar. "You mean, your mom or his mothers in law?"
"Oh, GOD!" she cried. "If he did that where Grandma could hear?"
----------
Jamal stumbled up to an island near sundown. "Think it's safe?" he asked.
"Yeah," she said confidently. "See the goats?"
"Yeah?" he asked. There was silence. "Oh. That WAS your point. I thought that you were going to explain why goats meant safety."
"Oh. Oh, sorry. Well, for many years, sailors from Blefuscu or Lilliput have dropped goats onto islands when they're sailing around. They go wild... Wait!"
Jamal paused in mid-step as he was about to climb up onto the shore of the apparently safe island. "Is it safe or not?"
"It's safe, just don't leave big giant footprints on the sand. Move around to see if there's a stream bed to walk up."
"Good idea, Lou," he said. He started to circle the shore. "Goat sailors?" he prompted.
"Yeah. Well, when they sail around looking for longwood or other exotic trade goods, they like a little meat now and then. So they drop a few goats on empty islands.
"The goats can live anywhere, so they have a decent population any time sailors come back to the island."
"Why does that mean it's safe, then?"
"Well, if natives get bumped off THEIR island, and they come to an island like this one, the first thing they do is eat all the goats."
"SO... If the lookout spots goats, they know it's uninhabited!" Jamal figured out. Lou let go of his hair long enough to clap.
They found a fairly large stream flowing into the ocean. He waded up until the shore was out of sight and found a meadow to lay down in.
"Lou complimented him on his gigantic steps and heroic stamina and was still looking for synonyms to 'giant' when he started snoring.
She smiled and sat on his chest for a few minutes, just watching him sleep. Then she slid down off his shoulder. There were thing to do.
-----
He woke around midnight to the smell of something roasting. "Mmmm. Is that...goat?"
There was a fire near his shoulder. Lou turned something on a spit. "We want to watch our impact on the environment," she said, shaking her head. "It's our responsibility to curb our footprint on the local wildlife."
"And you couldn't catch one," he said with a snort.
"Well, I only have a big rock and they won't let me get within rock's range!" She pointed to the spits. "So I caught you a few iguana."
"Um...."
"Oh, don't worry, you ate iguana yesterday. Along with shark and octopus and squid and crab and...and all that."
"Okay," he said. He lifted a stick up and slid the meat off with his teeth. "Could use garlic," he said.
"I didn't think you'd be in a mood to bitch," she said. His stomach chose that moment to gurgle. They laughed.
"Okay," he said. "I guess my mom was right, too." She looked up at him and blinked. "Any time she put food on the table, she said complaints are an automatic boast, saying 'I can do better.' If you didn't want to cook the next meal, and keep cooking until you did better, you sat quietly and ate thankfully."
He made a bit of a production out of taking the next lizard off the fire. "Thank you for cooking, Lou."
"It was entirely my pleasure, Jamal." She ripped one leg free for herself and left the others to the giant.
She showed him the freshwater spring she'd found so he could take a drink. There was also a spot she'd set aside for his toilet. He trimmed the branches off of a tree and used that to dig a hole and cover it later.
"Now, I was thinking," she said when he lay back down, "we probably want to move in the night, rather than the day. It'll be easier to navigate by stars, it'll be harder for them to see us, and we can hole up on the islands by day."
"But," he pointed out, "we could miss an island completely, walking past it in the dark."
"Oh. Yeah," she nodded. "But we definitely don't want to stay here for too long."
"No," he said, "not with all the goats laughing at your poor hunting skills."
"Shut up!" she said, though she smiled.
----------
There was no sign of pursuit from the gathered cannibal tribes, at least not the next day. Lou wanted to let her giant rest up for a day. He pointed out that iguana sausages only went so far. So before hunger enervated him completely, they set off for the next island.
They continued south, though none were in view. Jamal wore his floatation vest and kept low in the water, skimming over the shallows and walking normally over the deeps.
'Normal' meaning a kind of hopping, bouncing gait that very nearly made Lou nauseous. She grabbed hair and hung on, though, looking back every time she thought about pursuit.
After noon, they saw an island off to the east of their course. He headed for it, slowing as they tried to assess the safety.
"I don't see any goats," he said.
"I don't either." She sat up straight, straining to see any signs of fire or other human habitation. "Stop shaking," she said.
"I'm cold!" he replied. "I don't know if you noticed, but I've been burning calories inside a great big heat sink!"
"Oh. Well. Well, let's just go ashore, then."
"Is it safe?"
"Can you make it to another island before dark?" she responded. She felt him shrug, then started towards a lagoon. He stepped over a sandbar and waded closer to the beach.
"Hey!" he said cheerfully. "The water's warm!"
"Did you pee in it?" she asked. "I'm not eating any fish out of water you-"
"No, no, like a hot spring!" he said.
"Oh. So. Hot baths on you tonight?"
"I could bathe you," he said, trying to sound nonchalant, but coming across a leeeeetle bit excited.
"I'm fully capable," she said, trying to sound nonchalant. She thought she managed it, but Jamal snorted somewhere under her.
There was a stream emptying into the lagoon that was actually too hot for him to wade up.
Lou was JUST about to call him a big wimpy baby when she noticed that steam rose from the stream. "Maybe we just walk quickly over the beach, then," she advised.
They found a clearing out of sight of the sea and he flung himself down. "Oh, I can't move," he said. "But that hot water lagoon, that took the edge off the chill. Maybe I could bathe in it? I mean soak," he said and she heard apology in his voice.
"Either way, I'm not going to watch you," she said. She walked around his head, stroking his cheeks. He was kinda cute, especially when he closed his eyes and his expression relaxed.
She began to understand what Mom and Mom and Mom had seen in Daddy.
Her classmates had looked at the man during ceremonies at Hogwarts. When they drew class pictures later, they made a point of drawing freckles the size of cakes, pores the size of mole burrows or ears that would work as sails on small watercraft.
And, yes, from the wrong angle, Jamal's nostrils looked like animal burrows. But from the right angle, he looked... Cute.
Certainly cuter than the boy classmates. They'd been afraid of her, of all the Malone girls. They teased them as burly man-girls in early grades and as gawky horses in later ones.
Jamal would never fear her. But then, he wouldn't fear any of her sisters, or any woman in the Isles. Like his thirty brides 'back home.' Wouldn't that be funny, one or a dozen of them showing up during the reception.
Wait, what was she thinking of? She couldn't marry Jamal! The giant would be adopted, by Daddy or Arlene. Then he'd be family and...ugh! Just...UGH!
She turned to start looking around the island for food. Jamal cleared his throat and she turned back.
"Well, woman, I got you here. Now go fetch my food."
"Yes, milord," she said cheerfully. She bent to scoop up a double handful of sand. "Open your mouth and I'll just shovel it in for you."
"You know I was joking, right? I know it isn't exactly relaxing to sit on my head all day, yanking my hair and looking around for pirates and cannibals." He opened one eye, just after she'd let the sand drop back down.
"Oh. Yeah, I know. I do. I was actually going to go see if there was anything to eat, but I may need your help to gather-"
The brush behind her shook as something moved through the trees. She spun around, wishing she'd stolen a weapon at the same time she'd stolen the giant.
"What is it?" Jamal asked.
"I don't know," Lou said. "It could be just about anything."
There was an odd crunching, tearing sound then Jamal was holding a boulder. Lou glanced at that, sand dripping down off a rock bigger than she was.
"Okay," she said, "just don't overreact." It would be their bad luck if it was a sailor off The Shark.
The brush parted and a crab sidestepped into view. "Oh," Jamal said, dropping the boulder. "It's just a-"
Lou screamed and turned to climb up Jamal's leg. The beast's body was bigger than her torso. From the tip of its legs to the other tips, it was longer than she was. The two clicking claws were big enough to tear a sailor in half, something Renee had actually seen.
Two had nearly killed Moms when Daddy was working his way to Lilliput the first time. Tales of the torn clothes, scratched skin and stomping giant feet were among the first terror stories the Malone girls ever heard.
Eyes on the end of stalks followed her movement and the crab approached. Its ancestors had wandered into Lilliputian waters a century before. It had never seen a living thing as big as Jamal and didn't see him as a threat.
The little running, screaming monkey, though, that was something it knew.
Jamal heard her scream and saw the crab approach and reached for the rock he'd dropped. It rolled away from his hands across the sandy grass.
She ran over his lap and grabbed his shirt, starting to climb. One armored leg brushed Jamal's shin. He kicked reflexively, shoving the crab back into the trees.
It paused for a second as Lou reached Jamal's shoulder and he finally lifted the rock.
"Stopitstopitstopit!" Lou was chanting, almost mindlessly. He threw the rock and missed. The crab scuttled off into the jungle.
Jamal stood slowly and grabbed Lou. She instantly felt better, being in giant hands, though she didn't examine the feeling too closely.
He rocked her like a little baby doll and made shushing noises. "Hey, hey, hey, it's gone."
"It'll be back, though! We have to move to another island!"
"It's getting dark," he said. "Plus? Think about this. We have an island with crabs, and with boiling hot water." He raised one eyebrow to see if she 'got' it.
"Water we can't drink and crabs that can eat us!" she replied. Then she paused. "Um.... Unless a big tough giant were to... I dunno... Catch them?"
He smiled and moved her back to his shoulder. "Hang on," he said.
With two fistfuls of his hair, she said, "Not a problem."
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