Unnatural Instinct: Amazon

5.

Though I'm grateful to be fed and watered, it all tastes like cardboard in my mouth.

I'm sitting outside the men's hut with the others. Well, not really with the others. I sit alone, isolated, as I finish my bowl of seeds and nuts. I face away from them, my head down, but that doesn't stop them from murmuring about me, loud enough so I can hear. That doesn't stop them from walking so close their skirts brush against me. I really hate that in particular. What is it supposed to do? Intimidate me? There's so much sniggering and laughter. I pretend it doesn't affect me—but it does.

Despite coming from a much more superior race, despite the fact that I'm an anthropologist and should know better—it does!

And that's not the worst of it. The worst of it comes from the rest of the village, the children, and in particular the women. It's not that I've not had women interested in me before—I've had a few girlfriends—but no Earth woman has ever treated me like the women here do.

And it's not that they hurt me or touch me or even make lewd comments—it's the way they stare. It's the look in their eyes and the way they murmur to each other. None have approached me, but any fool can see that it won't last long.

Though I dislike the other men intensely, keeping close to the hut is the safest place for me. Through my research I've witnessed more than one woman drag an unwilling man to their bed. It's not a common occurrence but it does happen. However, it's never happened near a men's hut. By an unspoken rule, the hut is barred to all women.

So I'll stick where I am, thank you very much. I could go inside and avoid the attention but it's so hot that it's suffocating. Besides, Shereen is inside with the blonde I made cry, and I'd much rather not deal with that.

It's been an hour since 'being taken care of' and my body is still burning. Not only did they wax my chest, but my legs and groin area too. I blacked out twice when they did my testicles. I've never felt such pain in all my life. 'It's all for the good!' they kept telling me. Else, no woman would have me. They just laughed when I protested that I didn't want a woman.

'All men want a woman,' Shereen had said. 'There's no point to us otherwise.'

Before I could argue, he spread open my arse cheeks and smeared on more of the waxing paste. There's no need to speak of what happened next.

I wince as I shift position on my log. I'm doing my best to keep my legs safely closed together, even as my burning knees rub against each other. Skirts—how can women wear them? Each move I make I worry I might reveal something and attract worse attention. Underwear is unheard of here. It feels strange, it makes me feel vulnerable, as though I'm naked.

I raise my hand, about to sweep the hair out of my face, before reconsidering and fisting it back in my lap. After the waxing, they washed and brushed it and now it flows onto my shoulders in silken waves. It keeps falling around my face and each time I try to push it back I feel like the women watching me are taking it the wrong way. Like they think I'm showing off. I very much wish I had cut it before I was caught, but how was I to know this would happen? Hair was never a concern for me. I had too many more important things to think about.

Even now, one is grinning at me. Leaning her big shoulder against a nearby hut, her arms folded, she sweeps her eyes over my body. It makes my stomach squirm. It makes my cheeks burn. I've never been so humiliated.

So emasculated.

Turning away from her, I reach up to smooth my hand over my bare chin. Like the rest of my body, the hair is gone. Completely gone. No stubble. I never thought it could be so smooth. After they shaved me, they moisturised my face until it feels like it does now.

Smooth as a baby's backside.

Unnatural.

It took probably four hours to get me ready and it's now late afternoon. Fires are being lit. Men are preparing dinner. An hour before, I watched as a group of women dragged in a dead stag. They've already chopped it up, parts of it strung up and allowed to drain of blood. Even now, I can still smell the iron.

What's going to happen for dinner? Will I be expected to join with the rest of the tribe or will I be lucky enough to be left alone? Below my lowered eyelids, as I avoid the women's stares, I study the fringe of the forest. I know this place. There is a large, fast-flowing lake to the west. There is a series of caves to the north. My ship is to the east. If I could escape ...

It's many hours walk and in between here and there are crocodinos, wild dogs and man-eating cats. Not to mention the deadly snakes and poisonous insects. I don't have my GPS locator and I am not provisioned. Though I've taken a basic survival course, it won't be enough to help me on my journey. All I can do is wait until those on the mothership realise my predicament. I am supposed to report to them at the end of every week.

Unfortunately, that's six days away. Then it'll be days yet before they can land. I allow myself to feel hope. It's really not that long. As long as I keep my head down and do as I'm told, I should be fine.

I should be fine.

My hope deflates and I start to feel sick. They might save me, but when they do, not only will I likely be removed from the project for breaking procedure, but all further research will likely come to a halt. In order to save me they'll have to reveal themselves. Our project will be contaminated.

It's what I live for. What else am I going to do? I love these people. I love this planet. It's home.

I don't have long to despair before I'm roused from my thoughts by Shereen. I jerk away as he puts his hand on my shoulder.

He folds his arms with a scowl. 'No need to be so fearful. You cannot stay here feeling sorry for yourself. You must come inside to get ready.'

'Get ready for what?'

'For the show tonight, in celebration of the women's return.'