What evils await Captain Henry Mitchell on the island below? A U.S. Navy fighter pilot, he’s forced to abandon his Grumman after battling Japanese Zeros over the Pacific, but soon Japan is the least of his worries. Parachuting into rainforest canopy Mitchell is greeted by a lost tribe of pygmies and their insanely cruel leader, a female.
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Two books so far, both featuring men who know how to take whatever punishments the women care to dish out. It's pure fiction, but you can hear me tell several audio stories of my own adventures. The mp3's are on my nephew's web site, Jardonn's Erotic Tales.com and free to hear.
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The Gift of Gamay Lay down all thoughts, surrender to the void, it is shining... John Lennon was five years old when the pygmies were dunking me in their stream, but these lyrics he wrote 20 years later aptly describe where my state of mind needed and wanted to go. I needed guidance, however, to help me get there. So many questions, such a long list that I did not know where to begin, had to be put aside for now. It was done with the help of voices, some recognized and others not. Guardian angels? Could be, but one clearly understood came directly from the database called my brain, my memories of Uncle John. The gist of his advice? Try not to try too hard. The first time he told me this was on one of those fateful Sundays. He’d stopped by in his Jenny to take me on a recreational flight above Ogle County – a gift from John to me on my 13th birthday. Surely, the importance of this far outweighed the meaningless drivel of Sunday church, or so I thought. My dad, John’s brother, thought otherwise and my mother agreed with him wholeheartedly. My reaction was very unchurch-like, spiked with profanity and dramatized by stomping and kicking and snorting worthy of a spoiled brat, which I normally was not. Of course, punishment had to follow. I was forbidden to go anywhere other than school, home and (have mercy, lord) church for one solid month. Poor Uncle John could not save me from any of it, could not go against the commands of his brother and sister-in-law, but he could comfort me with hope. He could offer me words of advice, as I swore to him privately that come hell or high water I was getting out of Adeline two seconds after my high school graduation. He could agree with me that yes, I should and would do exactly that, but for now, “Bide your time,” he told me. “Some things can’t be fixed no matter how hard you try, son. Plant a seed and let it grow awhile, then it’ll spring up to hit you like a hammer. Wait for it, Hank. You’ll know.” Who could have predicted that a tyrant of pure evil named Adolph Hitler would be that hammer? Join the Air Force. Learn to fly, learn to fight like Uncle John did in the war to end all wars. See the world, maybe even help save it. On October 23, 1941, my 18th birthday, I signed my commitment to join them upon completion of my high school graduation.
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