Part 3

Nigel's state of confusion passed after a time, and he stood up, examining the tatters of his uniform. He felt a mixture of emotions, all of them blending together, each one surfacing for just enough time to make him feel he had made up his mind, before falling back into the maze of confusion. First and foremost, Nigel was shocked. He was shocked that these women would do such things. Women back home were refined, they were delicate, they were nothing like these animals. Yet, in his next impulse of thought, it seemed to have a twisted logic to him. Rape was a part of war, that fact was unpleasant but undeniable. Was that what this was? Was this some sort of expression of her power? Nigel pondered this for a moment, wondering if women were capable of such things. The women he knew back home certainly were not, but as he had already worked out in his mind, these women were nothing like the women back home. He knew that if he wanted to survive here, he would have to figure them and their way of life out quickly, so he knew what standards to apply to them. He rose, and after catching his breath, began to walk slowly towards his unit. Hopefully they hadn't gone home without him, he thought. He was still a little disoriented, but gradually he began to remember the path on which he had walked before, and his pace and his pulse quickened as he neared the place where he had left his men. As he rounded the last corner, his spirits sank noticeably. They were gone. At first, he was angry they had run off, but he knew that they would not run off without a good reason, so his anger quickly changed to concern. He wondered if they had been assaulted by these strange women as well-- an experience in which Nigel could not deny feeling some amount of pleasure, but not the sort of thing he would have chosen to inflict upon his men. "Barney! Joseph!" Nigel called off the names of his men. There was no response. "Oscar!" he shouted. Still no response. Nigel's concern grew, and his anger too, not for his men this time, but for whoever took them away. He was quite certain now that they wouldn't have run off, it had to have been some outside force. He saw a familiar large tree, and rounded it quickly, and yet, suddenly it didn't seem so familiar any more. He continued on, he saw ahead of him the clearing where he his men were to wait for him. It then dawned on him that he had just left the clearing where his men were to wait for him. That could only mean one thing. He was lost. He was lost in this awful jungle, and what was worse, he was lost in the hunting grounds of these primal, lustful women. After his previous experience, he for an instant was struck with the notion that perhaps to be hunted by them might not be so bad after all, but for the sake of his safety and sanity he quickly cast such a thought out of his mind. He then heard shouts, and for a moment his hopes were lifted. But he then listened carefully, sliding closer to the source of the noise, tilting his head. No, the voices were not his men, indeed, they were not the voices of men at all. They were the voices of women, and normally this would not have troubled him, save for the fact that he knew what the women were like around here. They were not speaking any language he recognized, either. Watching carefully, he noticed, through the trees, two bronzed beauties like the one he had seen before. Their skin was flawless, their bodies were exceptional, and he would've happily spent a long, lingering moment gazing at every curve and contour of their almost-nude forms, drinking in their exquisite radiance, except he knew that beneath the delicious exterior was something quite dangerous, and something best avoided. Still, he could not help but take one last long look up and down, from their long, muscular legs, to the tiny loincloth that hung low on their hips, to the firm, toned stomach of each-- one of them pierced with a little ring-- up to their round, firm breasts, held in place by ripped pieces of fabric straining and stretching from their ample contents, all the way up their long, slender necks, to their luscious lips, their golden brown faces, their Asian features mysterious and at the same time inviting. Nigel then made the decision to take cover, for he feared the vicious vixens were approaching, and admiring them from afar was all he was really in the mood for on a day like today. Unfortunately, as he would soon find out, they had other ideas, for they had already spotted him, and were already zeroing in on his position. Nigel sensed this a few moments too late, for just as he broke into a run, they did as well, and their superior speed soon closed the gap. They grabbed him by his arms, the lot of them slowing to an abrupt halt as they held him down, dragging him along the ground. Nigel, trying to keep his spirits up, realized that if they were going to their village, he could use this opportunity for a bit of reconnaissance, but this optimism was quickly tempered with the realization that he may never make it home in order to report his findings. Still, as he noticed before, there was a certain appeal to being captured by these lovelies, as well. The conflicting thoughts twisted and turned in his mind, as fear gave way to anger, which gave way to almost eagerness as thoughts of their last encounter filled his mind, which then turned back into fear, as he realized once more just what he had gotten into. They dragged him into a village, down decaying streets and past bamboo huts, finally stopping at a large hut, where they tossed him onto a bed made out of bamboo, which creaked loudly from the impact. They spoke to one another in their cryptic language, and Nigel could not have hoped to understand it, but just from the infection of their voices he sensed that he was in danger. They tore what little shards of his uniform remained from him, and used the cloth to tie him to the bamboo poles of the bed. After that, they proceeded to strip off what little clothing they themselves wore, presenting an even more enjoyable view to Nigel, assuming he was in a situation to enjoy it, which he, sadly, was not at the moment. They stood over him, leering down at him, playing with their breasts with one hand, while the other stretched downward, a long, muscular arm ending in a hand with numerous dull metallic rings, and long, sharp fingernails. These fingernails now scratched across Nigel's skin, not enough to cause him any severe discomfort, but enough to awaken his senses, and make him squirm, especially when the fingernails brushed across some of his most sensitive areas. Still, amid his fear, this motion caused a stirring within him, and he felt himself growing aroused as the women continued to run their hands across his body. Watching them do similar things to their own bodies with their other hands only furthered his feelings. Perhaps because his arousal dulled his fear slightly, it came as an even bigger shock when one of them women grabbed that very same sensitive area, digging those fingernails in, and sending pain shooting through Nigel's body. He cried out, prompting derisive laughter from the women, as they soon went back to their gentle caresses, calming Nigel somewhat, though not nearly as much as before. One of the women, the one with the little shiny ring in her belly button, stepped closer to him, resting one knee up on the bed. She looked down at him, smirking as she slid the hand that was formerly playing with her breasts down between her legs, starting to play there as well. Nigel watched wide-eyed as the woman played with herself, in spite of himself wanted to reach out and touch her anyway, but he couldn't, as he was restrained. The other woman moved next to him, kneeling next to the bed, reaching up and running both hands across his chest, her nails still dancing lightly across his skin. She tilted her head forward as she pushed herself up a little, stabilizing herself on her hands, thus shifting her weight and digging her fingernails into Nigel's chest. He gasped, first in pain, but then in a mixture of pain and pleasure as the woman kneeling at the edge of her bed extended her tongue and started to lick him. He was already getting hard and this only quickened the process. The woman who had her knee propped up on the bed continued to play with herself as she sunk downward, adding her tongue to the other woman's, so now there were two tongues lapping across Nigel, sending feelings through him that he found hard to resist. Soon, Nigel began to moan and buck, and he felt like he was about to explode any second from the tantalizing tongues of the Amazons. However, just when he felt that he was about to explode, the women stopped, leaving him frantically thrusting at the air, straining at his binds more than ever. This display of frustration of course prompted more derisive laughter from the women. They watched and waited, teasing him. After a little while, the woman next to him, who was playing with herself, climbed up onto the bed, straddling Nigel and looking down at him. She placed her hands on his sides, steadying herself, her eyes meeting his. Nigel strained against his bindings again, but as usual, it was no use, he could only lie there and watch the woman over him, slowly lowering herself, filling herself up with Nigel where her fingers had been just a few minutes before. She moaned softly as he pushed deep into her, holding onto his sides tightly as she started to bounce up and down, riding him with greater and greater speed and intensity. The other woman stayed by the side of the bed, one hand brushing across Nigel's chest where she grabbed and squeezed one of his nipples, her sharp fingernails mixing pain with pleasure. The other hand reached around to the back of the woman who was riding Nigel hard, pushing on her back to encourage her in her motions, urging her on, faster and faster. This time, as Nigel felt himself about to explode, he noticed the women did not let up, in fact, the woman who was riding him only went faster and harder, causing his entire body to shake as she shot into her, screaming with each blast of cream into the woman. She too screamed, his explosion triggering her own orgasm, which sent her body spasming around him, milking him dry. When he had finished, she climbed off of him, quickly running off, while the other woman pulled some soaked rags from the side of the bed, putting them over his face. In his bliss after the fantastic sex, Nigel barely noticed, and soon whatever chemical was on the rag had him out cold.