Caution: This Action/Adventure Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, NonConsensual, Drunk/Drugged, Heterosexual, Superhero, Sadistic, Violent, .
Desc: Action/Adventure Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Sheena discovers that the real jungle is in the hearts of men.
"Good looking, ain't she?" said Louie, nodding toward the dark-haired young woman lying spread-eagle in the jungle clearing.
"Yes, quite," said the Brit. "But forgettable. Sheena is different. I can assure you that once you've seen her, you'll never forget her." He wiped his round, flabby face with a large white handkerchief. The heat was unbearable. He wondered how his grandfather, who had been in Central Africa with the Colonial Service in the '30s, could have stood it.
The woman moaned and tugged at the bonds that secured her wrists and ankles. A small, untidy man had been looking down at her intently. Now he used her return to consciousness as an excuse to kick her in the side. She groaned and flinched. He prepared to kick her again, but the Brit called out, "Enough of that, Dooley. We want her in reasonably good shape. When you go after a jungle goddess, you need live bait."
"Dooley's a good man with electronics, but he's hell on women," said Louie, a big man with a soft North Carolina drawl. "Last night, he and a couple of the others raped that poor girl ragged. If our little Miss Rosie really is Sheena's girlfriend, we're going to have one highly pissed blonde superheroine on our hands."
"Yes, Sheena will be 'pissed, ' as you put it," said the Brit. "But it really won't make any difference. She is extraordinary, but 'superheroine' is a bit of a stretch. A dose of K24 will do to her what it would do to you or to any of us — knock her out cold for at least half an hour. After that, there will be seven of us and only one of her. And finally, though I pray it doesn't come to this, she is as vulnerable to bullets as any creature of flesh and blood."
Louie scratched his balls and thought as deeply as he was capable of thinking.
"If she's as smart as you say, why should she walk into our trap?"
"Because we're smarter," said the Brit, with a skeptical glance at his huge young partner. "I've left just enough clues to lead her here, but they're not so obvious that she'll suspect an ambush." He looked at his watch, then added, "You're in charge, Louie. I'm going back to camp for tea."
He disappeared into the bush, and the woman on the ground started moaning again.
"His Majesty's gone," said Dooley. "Can I pop her again?"
Louie knelt over the woman and slipped a beefy hand beneath her khaki shorts. Her eyes fluttered open as he massaged her vulva.
"She likes it," said Dooley, with a crooked grin. "I think she liked it last night, too."
"Yeah, right," said Louie, removing his hand and licking his fingers. "She liked it so much you had to gag her to stifle the screams."
Dooley was hurt. "Her trying to scream didn't mean she didn't like what we was doing. We just didn't want to wake up the goddamn Brit."
Louie rubbed his chin. "Okay, you've got forty minutes. Do whatever you want, but don't leave any marks."
As he rose, he looked down. The woman was awake, her eyes filled with fear.
"Sorry, Rosie," he said softly, "but these boys are lonely and far, far from home. And besides, you ain't got long to live. Pretty soon, it'll all be over."
Ten hours later, at two o'clock in the morning, it was Louie's watch. He wore earphones and sat hunched over a pair tiny TV screens. Two miles away, where Rosie lay stretched out in the moonlight, cameras mounted in the trees and microphones hidden in the bushes were silent sentinels.
The Brit seemed to have a pretty smart plan, Louie admitted to himself. Sheena would see and hear no sign of an ambush when she showed up.
If she showed up. Louie was doubtful. His experience with good-looking blondes, though limited, didn't jibe with the Brit's assessment of Sheena's intelligence. She could be wandering hopelessly upriver in the jungle. Hell, she might still be back in Basoko, wondering if Rosie had simply ditched her and taken a bus to Kisangani. Lawton's trail of "clues" looked awfully hard to follow — an empty canteen dropped here, a pair of bloody panties left there, no two clues any closer than a mile apart.
His musings were interrupted by a sound. Did it come through the earphones, or was it something here in camp? He looked around. Nothing. Everyone was asleep. Then he heard it again. It sounded like twigs breaking. His eyes darted back to the TV monitors. There it was: a shadowy form emerging from the brush at the edge of the clearing. But it wasn't Sheena.
It wasn't anything human.
"Mr. Lawton," Louie called out. "we got a problem."
Within seconds, the Brit was peering over Louie's shoulder. Dooley quickly joined him.
"What is it?" Dooley asked.
"A panther," Lawton said quietly. "A black leopard."
"Is it going to eat her?" Dooley asked hopefully.
"It had damned well better not," said the Brit. "Or I'll hunt down the bloody beast and skin it for a rug."
On the TV screens, they could watch, from two different angles, as the dark cat sniffed the woman's right foot, then worked its way up her leg to her crotch.
"Yeah, kittycat," said Dooley, "I'd like a whiff of that, too."
"Shut up, you bloody fool," snapped Lawton. "Louie, you stay here."
He turned and called out, "Michael, Gene, Akbar, get the BXP's and come with me. Tremain, keep watch over the gear."
"What about me?" asked Dooley.
"Stay here and be ready to use the hot button," said the Brit. "But only if the beast actually attacks her. You understand?"
"Sure," said Dooley.
He and Louie resumed watching the TV screens.
"Christ, I wish we had this on tape," said Dooley. "A fuckin' panther eatin' a girl. How much you think people would pay for that?"
But the panther, though hungry and clearly interested in this immobilized, 122-pound piece of fresh meat, did not begin eating Rosie. It explored her body with its nose and its tongue. Something wasn't right. The cat sniffed the metal locket at the end of a leather cord around the woman's neck. It had a peculiar odor. Then, in the woman's hair, and on her lips, there was another scent — faint and old, but familiar. The panther had encountered it a few months ago. It belonged to another animal like this one, a human female. But she hadn't been helpless like this one. Far from it.
Suddenly, the cat realized it wasn't alone. Something was observing it from beneath the trees. The panther crouched and prepared to defend its prey.
"We meet again, Black One," said Sheena, as she stepped into the moonlight. "You were wise not to harm her. Now, you must return to the forest. This is no meal for you."
The big cat hesitated, growled — and retreated. It wanted no fight with this creature who carried a long metal tooth at her side.
Sheena knelt beside Rosie and softly caressed her cheek.
"Your ordeal is over, my love," she whispered. "The men who did this to you will pay with their lives."
Louie and Dooley watched with mouths agape. Sheena, the semi-mythical jungle queen, had appeared, after all. The blonde hair, the long legs, the leopard-skin bikini — here was everything Lawton had led them to expect. And even in the dim light of a half moon, they could see that she was spectacularly beautiful.
Dooley broke their reverie. "She's talkin'. What's she sayin'?"
"She's telling Rosie that she's going to kick some serious ass when she catches up with us. Which should be soon, since Lawton and the others are on the way there. What about the button?"
"I got it," said Dooley.
"Well, push the fucking thing."
"Not yet," said Dooley. "Not til she's closer to the locket. We want to be damn sure we nail her."
"Hell," said Louie. "She's moving away. We're going to miss our chance."
Sheena was standing now, and seemed to be listening. She must have heard the men crashing through the jungle in a rush to rescue Rosie from the panther.
"What should we do?" Louie asked, a note of desperation in his voice.
"Just wait a bit," said Dooley. "She'll try to get her little lesbo bitch free so they can make a run for it. Then, bingo!"
Dooley was right. Sheena again knelt beside Rose. She pulled her knife from its sheath at her waist and cut the leather thong that held Rosie's right wrist to a stake in the ground.
Before moving on, Sheena couldn't resist bending down and brushing her lips against Rosie's.
It was a fatal kiss.
Dooley pressed the red button on the transmitter. Two miles away, the locket lying on Rosie's breast exploded.
Sheena recoiled, stunned by the sudden loud noise. In horror, she saw blood gushing from Rosie's right ear. Then the powerful tranquilizing gas released from the rocket reached her, and she toppled backward.
Lawton and the others arrived seconds later. Akbar rushed forward, raising his assault rifle and preparing to bring the butt down on Sheena's upturned face.
"Stay back," Lawton roared. He had warned the men not to damage the jungle girl. It would hurt her price on the market. And he had also warned them about the K24. If they moved in too quickly, the gas would disable them, along with the intended target.
Overexcited, Akbar had ignored both warnings. Now, rifle raised, he hesitated, staggered backward and sank to his knees. He glanced at Lawton, with a look of shame and confusion, then dropped the gun and toppled forward on top of Sheena, like a fallen lover.
Lawton gestured to Michael and Gene to stay clear of this touching scene.
"How long before it disperses?" asked Gene.
"A minute or two," said Lawton. "Then we'll get cuffs on our prize, and you can try to revive Akbar, the poor, dumb bastard."
"She's moving," Michael said nervously.
Sure enough, Sheena was squirming beneath Akbar. She pushed him off of her, sat up groggily and shook her head.
"Quite extraordinary," Lawton muttered to himself. Then, in a louder voice, "Take a deep breath, men, then hold it. Rush her and drag her over here."
Gene and Michael charged the blonde just as she had gotten to her feet. Michael grabbed her from behind, pinning her elbows together. Gene slammed his fist into her belly.
Her knees buckled, and she made a retching sound.
Michael picked her up, tossed her over his shoulder and hurried over to Lawton.
"Lay her face down," said the Brit. He handcuffed her wrists behind her, then rolled her over onto her back.
The three men looked at her silently for a long time.
"What a body," Gene finally said.
"What a mouth," said Michael.
"What a very expensive piece of merchandise," said Lawton. "Remember, we didn't come all this way just for a piece of ass or a jungle blow job. She is worth ten million quid if we get her to our buyer alive and in good shape."
"So, no fucking?" Michael said sadly.
"Quite right. No fucking."
"And no rough stuff?" asked Gene.
"Right again. No rough stuff."
"Dooley's going to be very disappointed," said Gene.
"Your friend Dooley can go fuck himself," Lawton snapped.
"Or Rosie," suggested Gene. "He can fuck Rosie. She can be the consolation prize. You know, until we get back near to civilization and have to get rid of her."
"Is she still alive?" Lawton asked.
Michael walked over to the woman who was to be Dooley's plaything and pressed two fingers against her neck.
"Still pumping," he said. "But probably not for long."
It was a little past daybreak, and the men had slept only a few hours. But they were wide awake now and ready to examine their prize. Lawton barked out orders: "No, by her wrists. Then loop the rope over that limb. We want her stretched as tightly as possible. That's right."
Sheena was soon strung up, with her legs spread and her ankles secured to stakes driven into the ground. She had been stripped, and her body, wet with sweat from resisting her captors, glistened in the sunlight that filtered down through the forest.
Louie whistled. "Jesus, she is really fine," he said.
"Yes, quite lovely," said Lawton, running his hand along Sheena's arm and down to her left breast. "Excellent muscle tone. A few battle scars, but otherwise in top-notch condition."
Sheena's head nodded forward. They had drugged her when she put up a fight. Now she struggled just to remain conscious.
"Can you hear me, my dear?" Lawton said loudly. She looked up.
"This scar," he said, pointing to her shoulder, "how did you get it?"
Sheena mumbled a response.
"Sorry, my dear, but I didn't catch that."
"Salonga," she said softly.
"Ah, yes," said Lawton. "Salonga." He turned to Louie. "It's a national park, on the other side of the river, about two hundred kilometers south of here. Looks like a bullet wound. Who did it? Poacher?"
"And this?" Lawton asked, running his fingers along four parallel white lines that ran from her lower back, around her waist almost to her navel.
"Cat," said Sheena.
She nodded again.
She shook her head. "Ituri."
Lawton turned to the men. His face was filled with pride.
"What did I tell you?" he said. "We have captured a true heroine, a woman of rare courage and strength, as well as beauty."
He looked up at the sky. "But enough gloating. Time for a good breakfast, then we break camp and begin our journey."
"You want me to untie her?" Louie asked.
"No, leave her here for the moment," said Lawton. He smiled at her. It was a kind, solicitous smile. "We'll be back shortly, my dear, and we'll bring you a scone, if you promise to behave."
They wandered off — all but Dooley.
He stepped out of the shadows and cupped his hand under Sheena's chin.
"Morning, cunt," he said softly. "Who needs breakfast when there's hot pussy just hanging here?" He slid his hand down to her crotch and pushed three dirty fingers into her vagina.
"Why... do you do this?" Sheena asked. Her voice was just a whisper.
"Because I want to."
"No, why have you captured me?"
"Oh, that. Because we can sell you for a lot of money. You know about money, don't you, sweetheart?"
Sheena knew about money. She knew how it drove men crazy — just as her body drove them crazy.
"Do what you want with me," she said. "But let my friend go."
"You don't understand," said Dooley. "We're going to do what we want with and with your lesbo lover. And what's going to happen to her will be just..."
He paused, grinned, and said, "... too fucking awful for words."
Sheena closed her eyes. She wore the look of someone beyond hope.
Dooley stepped behind her and unzipped his pants. Then he put his arms around her. He pinched and twisted her nipples until she cried out in pain. Then he slid one hand down her belly and massaged her vulva.
She struggled and moaned.
"You like it, don't you bitch?" he whispered in her ear. "Just like your little cunt, Rosie. She liked it when I twisted her tits and rubbed her pussy, too."
"Please," Sheena begged.
Dooley jammed his hardened prick into her moistened vagina. Her body stiffened, then trembled.
He fucked her slowly, all the while whispering words of abuse. And when he came, he bit the back of her neck until he tasted blood.
Lawton was furious. Had he not needed Dooley's technical expertise, he would have ejected him from their party and let him try to find his way back to civilization on his own. Instead, he whacked Dooley across the face with a riding crop.
None of the men except Gene was close to Dooley, but they all agreed that striking a man in the face broke an unwritten rule. What's more, it invited trouble. Dooley was difficult under the best of circumstances. Now, he'd be looking for his chance at revenge.
He didn't have to wait long.