Kushtaka

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In my village, there is a place on the beach where my ancient ancestors etched carvings into large boulders. Most of the petroglyphs are only visible at low tide when the ocean recedes far enough to reveal the mysterious markings.My Auntie tells me that our people used to tell stories about these carvings but when Colonizers came to Alaska, they punished us for speaking our native language. When our collective voices were silenced, many of our stories were lost.Anthropologists from multiple universities in the Lower 48 have come to my village and studied the carvings. They speculate about their meaning but their explanations usually do nothing more than paint our culture as primitive and uneducated.One of the carvings is only visible twice a year during the lowest tides of the spring and fall equinox. It was carved thousands of years ago, presumably when my people first came to this place we call Te?kwaanshátadí, which loosely translates to ?Man of the Rock? or perhaps ?Rock Trap.?The carving is of an otter?s head on a man?s body, a creature my people call the Kushtaka ? the Land Otter Man. While the Kushtaka?s legend is well known in many of the villages along the Pacific Northwest Coast, ours possesses the only known carving of the creature.My Auntie told me the story of the Kushtaka when I was very young.?The Kushtaka is the Land Otter Man, a mysterious s?igeekáawu (demon) that lives beneath the water. It disguises its voice to make you believe that your Auntie, a dead ancestor, or someone else you desire is calling out to you. When you walk to the water and peer beneath the surface, you see their face but it is the Kushtaka. He pulls you under the water and takes you to his home. Then he turns you into one of the Kushtakésh, a half-man, half-otter bursa sınırsız escort (https://genmakbursa.com/esc/bursa-sinirsiz-escort) slave trapped forever by his magic.If you ever encounter the Kushtaka and fall under its spell, repeat the name of our home, Te?kwaanshátadí.?Most people believe this legend is nothing more than a way to convince young children from getting too near the water where they could fall in and drown. But for others, the Kushtaka is far more than a legend.About six years ago, I had a vivid dream that almost seemed real. At the time, I had just turned twenty-eight years old. Since then, I?ve had the same dream at least once every month, sometimes twice, and it is always just as vivid and real as the first time.In the dream, I am walking along the beach with a beautiful woman named N?uweÍ, which is a name I?ve not heard other than in my dream. She is of the Killer Whale Clan (I am of the Raven Clan) and we are holding hands as we laugh and talk but I can?t understand what we are saying.We stop to silently watch a great blue heron stalking small minnows in the surf. It is then I notice that we are walking through the place of our ancestors, although none of the carvings have yet been etched into the boulders.N?uweÍ pulls me away from the waves to the soft sun-bleached sand dune. Near the top, a collection of driftwood forms a line marking the high tide water level. I sit on the soft sand. The black-haired woman slowly takes off her clothes in front of me, her body a silhouette, blocking the sun as it sets behind her. As the last flicker of sunlight disappears beneath the waves, the sensual shapes of N?uweÍ?s nude body come into view, fulfilling the promise of her silhouette.The black-haired woman begins to dance as the bursa escort bayan (https://genmakbursa.com/esc/bursa-escort-bayan) full moon rises behind her. Bathed in silver light, her hips twist and gyrate in ways that make me feel overcome with sexual arousal. The sight of N?uweÍ?s full swaying breasts and the elegant shape of her glistening labia make me want to utterly possess her in every conceivable way.I take off my clothes and N?uweÍ lowers herself onto my lap, wrapping her soft arms around my neck and kissing me with lips that are hot to the touch. Her fists clench the hair on the back of my head and she pulls. When my neck is vulnerable, N?uweÍ bites it as though her only intent is possessing me.Then her hand is around my penis, guiding me inside of her ethereal body that seems almost weightless, yet somehow every supple crease and contour of her vagina grips firmly around my manhood. The feeling is the most incredible I?ve ever experienced yet it is also not enough.The moon turns dark red and the light reflected on the ocean makes it seem as though it?s bleeding. As N?uweÍ?s hips begin to move, I slowly move deeper inside her body until I entirely fill the space that could only have been crafted for me. The black-haired woman?s big brown eyes lock onto mine and they are filled with both desire and longing.Our hips begin to move but every thrust brings heightened craving. It?s as though I?m rising toward a climax that will always be just out of reach ? an endless and ever-growing craving for this black-haired woman carved from the bedrock of my very soul.N?uweÍ clasps my hands, our fingers interwoven. There is a moment where her face reveals the cresting wave of orgasm about to crash against her perfect body. Then she screams.Instead of a scream nilüfer escort (https://genmakbursa.com/esc/nilufer-escort) of joy and release, N?uweÍ?s scream is one of terror.Two pale hands covered in bleeding sores grab her shoulders and pull her away. N?uweÍ is screaming for me to save her. Even though my mind tells my body to help, all I can do is sit motionless, watching as a terrible creature of hideous proportion carries the black-haired woman toward the crashing waves.Then I see its eyes but they are not the eyes of a man or any beast that lives on land, river, or sea. It pulls N?uweÍ into the water and its form suddenly changes. A long tail grows from the base of its spine and fur grows over its wretched skin.Just as the creature pulls N?uweÍ into the sea, there is a moment where all is calm, and, in a whisper, she says, ?X?unei, my beloved, find me here when the full moon turns to blood.?Then I wake up. It takes a few minutes before I remember that my name is Makeah, not X?unei.The realness of my recurring dream led to something of an obsession. I began researching everything I could about the Kushtaka. I spoke with elders from many tribes, including my own, both along the coast and in the mountains. The more I learned, the less I understood but I began to believe that the black-haired woman was real.Or maybe, was once real.While visiting my village?s local library, which is also our museum, I stumbled upon an old story from a Frog Clan shaman that was transcribed into English by a Russian colonizer in 1833. In the story, a young boy disappears and his mother becomes distraught, believing that the boy was taken by the Kushtaka while fishing for halibut. She says the boy comes to her in her dreams, begging for her to rescue him because he?s been turned into one of Kushtaka?s slaves.The elders take the woman to see the shaman and he enters the spirit world to speak to the killer whale people and find out if there is a way to save the boy. Because the killer whale people are enemies of the otter people, they agree to help by telling the boy their secret method for escaping the magic of the Kushtaka. *