Captured in the Jungle and Bound at the Mercy of the Tribe

It was the morning of the seventh day of our botanical expedition along the upper reaches of the Caroní River. We had already gathered more than enough material from that area, so while the rest of the team classified the samples and packed up the camp, I decided it was a good time to scout a new stretch of terrain and expand our records. I tied my hair up, pulled on my boots, took my hat, and stepped out of the tent.

“Guys, I’m heading over to explore the northern strip. I’ll be back in two or three hours at most.”

“All right, Serra. We’ll finish organizing all this,” Andrade, the expedition leader, replied without looking up from the crates.

The area I planned to cover was not entirely unfamiliar to me. I knew it held no special dangers, but I still slung the rifle over my shoulder. In the jungle you are never completely safe, and that habit had saved me more than once.

I had been walking a little over an hour, already very close to my destination, when I thought I heard a faint rustle in the undergrowth. The jungle is full of noises, but something about that one put me on alert. I opened my eyes wide and gripped the rifle in case an animal appeared. Everything happened too fast. Before I had time to react, a sharp blow to the back of my neck sent me crashing face-first to the ground and ripped away my sense of time.

I cannot have been unconscious for long, but when I opened my eyes, terror froze me. I was lying on my back and, in front of me, three stocky men with painted bodies and little more than loincloths were watching me. Two of them were pointing spears at me. I turned my head and saw my rifle, but it had fallen more than two meters away, completely out of my reach.

They exchanged a few words in a dialect I did not understand. Then two of them seized my arms tightly and hauled me up from the ground. The third came forward slowly, grabbed the straps of my T-shirt, and tore it away with a brutal yank, exposing my bra. I let out an involuntary cry when I guessed their intentions. I struggled as hard as I could, kicked at the air, shouted for help, but that man stripped off my bra too. And that was not enough for him. Despite my resistance, he pulled my pants down to my knees, leaving me in panties and with my legs almost immobilized.

Then I understood I was completely at their mercy. I begged inwardly that they had had enough, that they would let me go. Instead, the one who had stripped me pulled a length of rope from his belt and tied my ankles, after first taking off my pants completely. With another rope he bound both my wrists together in front of my body.

Now I truly was utterly defenseless. I tried to cover my breasts with my bound arms while I watched them bring a thick wooden pole, about two meters long. They laid me on my back, with my hands above my head, and passed the pole under the bindings at my ankles and wrists. Two of them lifted it by the ends and I was left hanging like a caught animal. Perhaps that was exactly what I was: a piece of game they were going to transport. We started walking, and with every step my body swayed helplessly. The thought crossed my mind that at least I still had my panties.

Foolish thought. A few minutes later, the one who seemed to be the chief came up behind me, grabbed the last garment, and ripped it away with a violent tug. I let out a moan, half pain, half humiliation. More the latter, I think. Hanging as I was, I knew I was giving their eyes far more than I would ever have dared imagine.

The walk felt endless. When we finally reached a village, men, women, and children came out cheering to greet the hunters and see what they had brought back. They all stared at me with shameless interest and I could do nothing but flush scarlet with shame.

***

From my position I could not see where they were taking me, but when they stopped I seemed to be at the foot of a large, heavily carved wooden totem in what must have been the central square. They set me down, removed the pole, and dragged me over to the post. I no longer resisted: I knew that in those conditions any effort was useless. Two ropes hung from the top of the totem; with them they tied my wrists, after freeing them. Then they released my ankles only to bind them again, each one separately, to the base of the post.

There they left me for a good while, under the inquisitive gazes of everyone who passed. I tried to keep my legs as close together as possible, in the vain hope of hiding something of myself.

After some time the two bearers and the hunters’ chief returned. The two men bent down and began untying my right ankle. For a moment I thought freedom was coming, but I was wrong: once it was loose, they lifted my leg to waist height and fastened it to another rope hanging from above that I had not seen before. My leg was left in the air. They did the same with the left one, until I was suspended with my legs raised and spread open. I could not suppress a sob. In that position my sex was completely exposed, and there was nothing I could do.

Things got worse when, at the chief’s order, the two men tightened the ropes and hoisted my legs above my head, forcing my back to curve forward. I looked down in despair and saw my own sex opened and offered to those strangers. I do not think a person can feel more humiliated than that. The shame was such that I did not want to open my eyes, but even so I managed to see the chief approach with a jar in his hand.

He uncapped it, took some of its contents, and without further ado began rubbing my exposed sex with some kind of thick paste. Immediately I felt a sting. Despite my protests and my useless struggling, he kept up that massage for a couple of minutes until he was satisfied. Then the three of them walked away and left me hanging in that uncomfortable, degrading position.

***

I was beginning to lose all sense of time. I did not understand why this was happening to me; I wanted to convince myself I was trapped in a nightmare. I thought of my companions, who by now must have been waiting for my return. And then I felt something strange between my legs: a heat spreading across the whole area. When I looked, I saw it was reddening. Time passed and the sensation intensified. My pulse quickened for reasons I could not understand. I looked again and discovered my lips had swollen a little. What was happening to me? It had to be that ointment. Something deeply irritating.

I was still hanging there, shamelessly displaying my parts, alarmed by my body’s reaction. My heart was pounding when I lowered my gaze again. To my astonishment, my lips were not only more swollen, they had opened, revealing the entrance to my vagina. Higher up, my clitoris protruded, no longer hidden beneath its hood. It was as if a degree of arousal I had never experienced in my thirty-one years of life had invaded me.

And everything kept intensifying uncontrollably. I felt a thread of moisture run down to my anus. My nipples were so erect they were beginning to hurt. My clitoris, now the size of a cherry, stood exposed with no protection at all, and my lips, red and swollen, left the entrance to my sex fully in the open.

I was still trying to process it when a man wearing a feather headdress came up to me. Behind him came a large retinue that formed a circle to watch the spectacle up close. And the spectacle, of course, was me.

Hung as I was, I could not prevent his head from settling between my legs. The first lick on my lips jolted me like an electric shock. The second went straight to my inflamed clitoris, an all too easy target. The current raced through me from head to toe. My body was burning out of control, and I felt his tongue sink effortlessly into my core. I moaned without being able to stop myself as a brutal orgasm ripped through me.

I was left exhausted, but the man was not finished. He enclosed my clitoris with his lips and sucked it mercilessly. The tingling quickly gave way to enormous pleasure and, a little later, to a second orgasm as intense as, if not more intense than, the first. I was soaked and defeated, and yet the arousal did not subside.

***

The man in the feather headdress stepped away to make room for another, younger one, who came to stand in front of me and untied his loincloth. I had no time to think before he entered me in one single thrust, all the way to the hilt. That something like that could fit inside me told me how much the ointment had stretched me. When he started moving inside me, all I could do was convulse and scream. My own wetness lubricated everything until I exploded again. My spasm must have carried him along, because I felt him empty himself completely inside me, dragging out my orgasm until my whole body was trembling.

After that a woman came over. I was still shaking when she began licking my sex, slowly, with astonishing skill. She traced my lips, circled the entrance, and barely brushed my clitoris. She took me right to the edge of climax and then stopped, only to resume seconds later. It was torture: I needed to come and she would not let me. I was begging for mercy out loud when I felt a finger sliding into my anus. The initial discomfort soon faded and pleasure grew. Another finger joined it, and at the same time two more entered my vagina. Then a third, a fourth, a fifth: she had her whole hand inside me. She began moving it with expertise while licking my clitoris without pause. The earthquake that seized me surpassed anything that can be described in words. I screamed, arched my back, and collapsed again, powerless, held up only by the ropes.

***

They let me rest for barely an instant before untying me. Though I was fully aware of everything that had happened, I was still aroused, my nipples on the verge of bursting and my sex oozing. I wanted, needed, more.

On my knees on the ground, I watched two men approach with their cocks pointed at me. I did not hesitate: I began to lick them avidly, as if my life depended on it. Almost without noticing, my right hand went down to my own sex. I could feel it still open, and my clitoris, even larger now, quivered at the slightest touch. I massaged it gently while I sucked. One of them came quickly over my face; the other, without warning, flooded my mouth and nearly made me choke. The excitement was such that, with a few more touches, I found myself screaming again in the grip of another orgasm.

I had barely recovered when a girl of just over twenty stepped in front of me, offering me her sex. Out of my mind, I threw myself into tasting it. I licked her lips and clitoris as I had never done with a woman before, while continuing to pleasure myself. Although I had no experience with another woman, I managed to make her come quickly. After that I focused on myself, in front of everyone’s gaze: two fingers to stroke my most sensitive spot and, at the end, that enormous cherry between my fingers, stimulated almost like a sex, until another climax tore from me with a scream.

I was half reclined when they put me on all fours and another man penetrated me. Tired, I was still insanely aroused. Each thrust made my breasts jolt, pain and pleasure at once. When he was close, he pulled his sex from my vagina and strained to enter my anus. I had never allowed it, but I was in no condition to resist. Perhaps because of my arousal, perhaps because I was so wet, the penetration was not difficult: an initial discomfort and then indescribable pleasure, culminating in another long orgasm when, without meaning to, my own hand squeezed the cherry at exactly the right moment.

***

Hard as it may be to believe, I was exhausted and terribly aroused at the same time. I lay on the ground with my legs spread, waiting to be penetrated again. And so it went, again and again, until I lost count of the men and of my own orgasms. The truth is, I no longer cared. I felt like a female in heat, begging for more.

The end came when several of them lifted me and slowly lowered me onto one man lying down, impaling me from behind. Painful at first, pleasurable soon after. Another man penetrated my sex at the same time, and someone else filled my mouth. They took me everywhere while hands squeezed my breasts. I had one orgasm after another, chained together, until almost in unison I received their release in my mouth, in my sex, and in my anus.

They moved away and left me lying there, still unsatisfied. I lunged toward the first body I saw, but two men grabbed me and dragged me back to the totem, where they tied my hands and feet once more. Driven by my own heat, I cursed them until I broke down crying. I needed more, and they thought enough was enough. I moved my legs as far as the ropes allowed, trying to brush my clitoris, but though I came close, I could not do it.

There I was: tied up, burning, and crying inconsolably.

Exhaustion finally made me drowsy. When I woke, they were untying me. They gave me water from a bowl and left some clothes at my feet. Two men motioned for me to follow them. I picked up the clothes and obeyed. I understood they were escorting me to the place where I had been captured, so I could find my way back. Once there, they disappeared back into the undergrowth and left me alone.

I saw my rifle on the ground and picked it up, thinking how little use it had been to me. I felt strange. The arousal had passed, but as I put my clothes back on, I found the effect of the ointment was still partly lingering. Now I would look for my companions. It was obvious I could not tell them the story as it had happened; I would make something up. I only wanted to get back to civilization soon to find out which tribe it was and, who knows, perhaps return one day to try that potion again.