Chapter 3

She can feel herself sprawled out, hair covering her face. She racks her brain. What happened last night? How did she get here? She shouldn’t be here; she should be somewhere else. Where should she be? She couldn’t remember anything. She slowly becomes aware of her surroundings. She is dripping wet but not cold. A gentle breeze lifts her tangled hair from her clenched eyes, eyes she is too scared to open.

She rolls onto her back and digs her hands into the ground. They come away filled with sand. She hears it trickle back to the ground. She listened intently, hearing the swish of water that seemed so close.

She slowly sits up and opens her still-clenched eyes.

She blinks. The sand is like sugar, the sea and sky blurring into one streak. It is reminiscent of an oil painting.

A single seagull caws, bobbing on the crystal sea. Behind her is a vibrant green jungle dotted with pinks and yellows.

She stands up, and she runs into the sea, enjoying the feel of water cooling her legs and swirling around her.

She looks down at herself and realizes for the first time how ragged her clothes are and how alone she is...

She staggers backwards and sits back on the sandy bank, her head spinning.

Lost, she calls for Mr. Roarke, but to no avail. All her shouting did was stir up the wildlife and startle the local wildlife.

Standing up from the sandy slope, she wipes tears from her eyes. She has to find someone, or she’ll die. She has no food, no water, and no shelter.

She walks along the edge of the sea; her toes tickle each time the water splashes them.

She removed all her garments, feeling instantly cooler and more flexible mobility-wise. She bathed in a lagoon, naked. She enjoyed the sensual experience of swimming in the open, fully exposed. She was in the lagoon lounging on a rock near the small waterfall when she saw two mammal-like animals apparently in courtship, the male displaying himself for the female, attempting to encourage her to mate with him, sniffing at her to make sure she was ripe.

She knew the pleasures of many men—larger men with more stamina—who had given her amazing orgasms and had required her to perform unspeakable acts on them. Such thoughts made her feel horny and crave a man’s cock inside her.

As it was, she could only reach for her pussy and pleasure herself with her hand in the cool water of the lagoon, her fingers parting her dark brown flesh and finding her intimacy within her soft, fleshy folds.

Her free hand crushed her breasts and pinched her nipples, already erect and hard from the chill of the water.

Despite knowing she was alone, irrationally she felt like the trees, the birds, and the animals were watching her, just like she had watched the two little beasts mate. The thrill of pleasuring herself in the wild, with the guilty thought of being watched, piqued her arousal, and she began to fantasize that she wasn’t alone at all and was being taken by a strong, muscular man with a raging cock right there in the lagoon.

It wasn’t long before the forest echoed to the sounds of orgasm. Despite expectations and unbeknownst to Osa, the sound had been heard.

By now she strode around pretty much naked during the day. Her rationale was that she would need these garments should she ever be rescued, and she needed to conserve them and not wear them out. She loved the thrill of being naked in nature, with no one to see her. She did not need them for warmth, not even at night, thanks to the fire and temperate climate.

She folded her arms beneath her head and let her eyes drift shut.

She had barely closed her eyes when a violent wrench wrenched her awake. A fist was tangled in her hair, pulling her face up out of the sand to stare into a pair of dark brown eyes.

The man who held her wasn’t even as tall as she was. He was dark-skinned and sinewy, like something you’d expect from National Geographic. His face and chest were completely covered in dark black tribal tattoos, which did not form any discernible pattern or picture. A bone pierced his septum. He toyed with the nose ring and bone as he screeched at her in some unintelligible language.

A second man stood behind him, curiously staring at Osa, then pulling a crude knife from his hip. Both men were wearing simple leather loincloths that didn’t quite cover their maleness. The man slowly approached closer, taking the blade and pressing it against her throat.

Osa couldn’t scream; her voice fled as she looked into the man’s eyes. She instantly knew he wasn’t an actor, the knife wasn’t fake, and she was in no way safe. Her body trembled as she felt the sharp tip of the knife travel down her neck to her chest, lightly grazing over her flesh and slitting the bikini top off. As soon as her breasts were freed, the man exploded into a tirade of short, quick words and pointed excitedly at them. The other man shook his head and wrenched her head to one side, painfully twisting her neck in the process.

Now she could see at least a dozen more men approaching from across the sands. They all wore similar leather or fur loincloths. They were all dressed similarly in leather or fur loincloths. Every one of them had tattoos, and several had piercings in their noses or ears. Most of them were armed in some way, either holding daggers or spears as they made their way down the beach toward her.

Before she could react, two of the natives forcefully spread her ankles apart, causing her to fear injury.

“Stop!” She shrieked, trying vainly to close her legs. The men easily held her in place, randomly spouting gibberish between them. “No, stop!” Osa screamed as the man with the dagger walked between her spread legs and smiled. Despite the fist tangled in her hair, Osa managed to get her head up high enough to watch the man spit on his cock and spread it around with his fingers.

It was nothing impressive, probably less than 12 cm, and it was already hard. At that moment, though, it was the most horrific thing she’d ever seen. The man got down on his knees and pointed his cock at her opening.

A terrified shriek tore free of Osa’s lips as she felt his manhood plunge into her. He buried himself. He was in her cunt in a single stroke. She noticed then just how short he actually was; his face was conveniently nestled between her tits. He reached up and grasped a mound of flesh, and he dug his dirty fingers into her skin and looked into her eyes. Osa couldn’t find the will to drag her eyes away from his; instead, she stared back as her rapist plunged his cock into her body.

There were a few deep thrusts before her insolent body began to betray her. It started with an odd wetness between her thighs. Tears filled her eyes as she moved her hips against the intruding presence. The native’s cock was far from the largest she’d ever felt, but it certainly hit the right spots, driving her body closer and closer to the edge.

She bit her lip, drawing a slight trickle of blood as she tried to drown out the growing buzz. It was impossible to ignore the cock sawing in and out of her body, though. She couldn’t even find the willpower to fight against her urges. The pain of his dirty nails digging into her breasts was unbearable to her. The only thing in her mind was how powerful his cock felt plunging into her.

Osa opened her mouth to scream, feeling the man’s cock pulsing inside her. She felt the warm cream erupting from his manhood and flooding her innards. Even worse, she could feel her body clenching tightly around him, trying to draw every last drop out of the little man’s cock as he pushed himself as far into her as he could.

Native kept his cock buried inside her until it softened, then he pulled it out, wiping the mixture of juices on her thighs, and casually said something to his companions. Osa glanced around in fear, wondering who would be the next to assault her, resigned to her fate.

Instead, her head was wrenched back down into the sand, and something soft, a sponge perhaps, was shoved into her mouth and then tied in place with a piece of twine. They also quickly bound her wrists and ankles. A spear was thrust between her arms and legs, and with two in front and two behind, they lifted her easily off the sand and started walking into the jungle.

Oh my god, where are they taking me? Osa tried to shriek, but the sponge absorbed every sound. She couldn’t get enough leverage to escape either; even if she could, they would easily capture her again. They didn’t give her a lot of time to think, though; she felt a light prick in her side. Osa had just enough time to recognize it as a dart before she passed out.

Osa groaned around the sponge as she fought to open her eyes. When she managed, she realized she was still bound, a few feet off the ground. She couldn’t see much from her position; most of what she could see was a tight circle of tents. It resembled a scene from National Geographic. Beside her was a giant pot, nearly the size of a small spa.