Date: Mon, 17 Apr 2006 12:16:54 -0700 (PDT)
From: Dagor Dragontooth <niftyshellshock@yahoo.com>
Subject: Anthropology Part 1

The following story contains sex. Draw your own conclusions and mark your
own warnings.

	I looked at the binder in front of my boss's desk, and then back at
Professor Hardy. "You're out of your mind, sir." He smiled. "It's what we
need, Charles, well, what I need. Now, are you in it, or am I going to have
to hire another investigative journalist?"

"I'll do it sir, but do you know what you're asking of me?"

"Yes, and I know it's tough, but I'm convinced you can handle it."

"Sir, you basically want to bring in the field anthropology into the world
of modern sex appeal."

"Which will inspire a lot of bright young minds to join our field, and who
knows, maybe work for me. I wouldn't have hired you if I didn't think you'd
cut it."

I sighed, and then conceded the point. I did need the money.

"Alright sir, I'm game."

"Good! Here, let me show you what it's all about."

	We spent the next hour going over what the project would entail.
The Professor had scoped out a tribe somewhere in one of the islands in the
Mediterranean that was known for its secretive and lust-charged traditions.
Once entry into the tribe was guaranteed, then I would write an expose on
it. Today's sex-crazed media would eat it up right away, and people would
be flocking to the university to study anthropology. The more people
joined, the more the Professor got paid.

	"Sounds like a good plan so far, but how am I going to get access
to that tribe?" Professor Hardy flipped through some pages in the binder,
and then opened it facing me. "This man right here." He said, tapping the
picture with his index finger. It was man, in his early thirties, tall,
built, fierce black eyes, and a small beard and mustache. "Curtis Clark.
Ex-marine turned anthropologist. You could say he's traveled the world, met
interesting people, and on some occasions, killed them. He's the only man I
know that knows in detail about this tribe. He's been in there, so he's
your best source for information. I already talked to him, you'll be
spending some time with him for the next month." I coughed.

"Sir?"

"You heard me, Liberty."

"But sir, I have.."

"A job?"

"Yes, sir."

"Do you know how much I'll pay you?"

"You haven't specified on that part yet, I thought it was going to be a
small nominal fee or something of the like."

He laughed as if I had just cracked a particularly funny joke.

"I've been reading books before your pappy was even born. I've seen the
best and the worst of literature and journalism. You're one of the best
I've read. It's people that you that are able to pump dead professions like
this with passion. Here,"

He put the check on the table, and I had to read it closely to see what it
read.

"Sir, you mean to tell me that I get 500 grand,"

"500 grand now, 500 grand upon completion.. I can afford the investment."

"Alright, I get one million dollars, to camp out with an ex-marine for a
month, write about some tribe in the Mediterranean, and package it so that
people will buy it?"

"In a nutshell, yes."

"When do I leave?"

"Your plane leaves tonight, you will board it, land in Los Angeles, be met
there by Clark, and then you'll go to his place."



	I left the Professor's office feeling fuzzy. There had to be a
catch somewhere. The most obvious catch would be that Clark was an
ex-marine, and the piece of work that caught Professor Hardy's attention
was an exposee on Marine atrocities.

 I got on the plane at Dulles as per the instructions, and then arrived
later at an ungodly hour at LAX.  Upon arrival, and after going through
customs and luggage retrieval while feeling very jetlagged, I finally took
to looking for the Clark's car. What I didn't expect was a limousine, and a
uniformed chauffeur holding up a sign that read `CHARLES LIBERTY'. Feeling
very confused, I walked up to the driver. "Sir?" The driver looked at me
and then said, "Ah, Mr. Liberty, please, step inside." He held the door
open for me, and I stepped into the darkened limousine, and the driver shut
the door. Just as he did so, the lights went on, and I was sitting in front
of Clark himself.

"Good evening, Mr. Liberty." He said, stretching out his hand. I shook
it. "Evening, Mr. Clark." He held it for awhile, while staring at me
through sunglasses, as if he was reading me. "Relax, Mr. Liberty, you are
not in any kind of trouble. I'm actually a big fan."

"You are?"

"Yeah, I loved your piece on the Corps."

My blood froze. "Sir, I honestly didn't mean any disrespect. It was just
hat I had to get the word out there."

Clark just laughed. "Don't worry about it, I know what they did. But enough
about business, we've got about an hour or two before we reach our
destination, so tell me about yourself."



	So I did. It was not the most particularly exciting story, but I
told him. I told him how I grew up in Texas, how I had tried to start a
rock band that failed, how I loved to read and write. The most surprising
event was that at the age of 22, I was in line for a Pulitzer for my work,
but I didn't receive it due to the other candidate's seniority. In turn, he
told me about growing up in New York, how he wasn't the greatest kid
growing up, about his actions in the marine corps, and his incursion into
anthropology. "Sir, may I be blunt?"

"You'll be spending the next month with me, Liberty, so be what you are, I
won't be offended, I admire honesty."

"Well, we're riding in a limousine."

"And you're wondering how in Sam hell did an ex-devil dog like me get his
hand on so much money?"

"Yes."

"After I quit the corps, I had nowhere to go to, no family, no friends. I
had no formal education, so I decided to give college a chance. That was
where I met Professor Hardy. Professor Hardy, as you know, is a very
wealthy man. Unlike most other rich fat cats, he is a good guy, and he has
an eye for talent. He paid my way through college. When I graduated, I
asked him how could I ever repay him the favor. He told me simply, "Find me
a shiney." So I did. I went back to the Netherlands, where I served with my
unit, and where we did certain things I would rather not discuss right now,
and then found what I was looking for. That's what got me the wealth.."



	The rest of the night passed in a daze. I don't remember sleeping,
and waking up to quite a wondrous sight



"It's rude to stare, Mr. Liberty." Clark said, with a smile. He must have
seen my gaping stare. All I remembered from the previous night is politely
excusing myself, then passing out. When I woke up, I wasn't in the car
anymore. I was on a beach chair. I stood up and then saw myself in a small
island, with a massive villa at its center. "What the hell happened?" "You
fell asleep last night at around two in the morning, we got to the port, I
didn't want to wake you up, so I had to inject you with a small sleeping
aid. Then we got you on the boat, sailed here, and voila." I looked at the
house once again. "I don't know what you found in the Netherlands,
Mr. Clark, but it sure must have been something." "It was, Mr. Liberty, it
was. Now, if you'll follow me, I'm sure you'd like the inside of the house
better."



We walked up a narrow stone pathway that led to the massive doors of the
house. At the entrance, he stopped, and turned to face me. "Mr. Liberty,
I'm going to ask you this just once. You know what you're in for. If you
want to back down, now's your chance. I will bear no hard feelings about
you."

"No reason to back down. I'm expecting the unexpected. I'm ready." He
opened the doors, and I entered into my summer vacation.



It was breathtaking....

"I need to take a shower, I feel unworthy of this house." I muttered. Clark
laughed. "My guests are worthy of everything I own. But yes, you are
jetlagged, go up the stairs and the second door on your left.



After the shower, I stepped out, walked into the room that was given to me
(which was definitely bigger than the small flat I lived in back in the
university), and changed into a bathrobe that was left there.



I walked downstairs, to the living room, where Clark was in a bathrobe,
nursing a cup of wine. "Ah, Mr. Liberty, please join me." Since I had no
other



After talking for what seems like hours of talk of the most random yet
interesting subjects, Clark looked at me. "Tell me about your sexual
experiences, Mr. Liberty, how many women have you slept with?" "Only six or
seven."

"And men?"

"None."

"Charles, I'm a trained marine, I know when people are lying."

"Alright, one. But we were young, and we were foolish, and I don't see the
relevance that it has with the investigation."

"The tribe we're studying, is highly sexual. You need to be comfortable
with all facets of human sexuality. Don't worry, what you did is nothing
wrong, and I won't go tell the world."

"Alright, I'll tell you."

So I told him how when we were in highschool, after one of our jam
sessions, the band left, save for the drummer and myself. I was crashing
over at his place. We had been watching a porn before going to bed, and
when we finally got around to going to bed, the weather had gotten so that
it was too stuffy. We had both stripped down to our boxers. And seeing
being still aroused by the porn, we had to find a way to alleviate that
tension. So we both pleased ourselves.

I was suddenly aware that I had grown hard just thinking about that
experience. I looked over at Clark and saw that he was excited as
well. "Well, I think that's a great first time. Now, let me tell you a
little bit about the tribe we're studying. They have an initiation rite, in
which a man `adopts' a younger man and teaches him to become a man. How do
they do this? The older man gives his seed to the younger man for a time
until such a time comes that the younger man can give his own seed."

"So how will I learn?"

"Learn through experience, Mr. Liberty. I will give you my own seed." With
that, he stood up and removed his bathrobe It was quite an experience. He
had an Olympian quality about him, well-toned, muscular body.  "Will you
receive it?" He asked. I could only nod as I stepped out of my own
bathrobe, walked up to him and knelt down, ready to experience.