Stumbling, she fell to the ground, and lay there, sweaty, disoriented, and panicked. How far was she from the shoot? She really hadn’t been walking that long - only a few minutes surely. If she screamed, would they hear her? Of course, if she screamed and there was nothing, they’d think her foolish. The thought of Charles lauding it over her, seeing her as some spoiled princess who’d gotten lost and then panicked, was unbearable.
She pulled herself to her feet and looked around frantically. The jungle span around her, like a whirlpool threatening to suck her in. The birds were too loud, her own breathing too jagged, and the voices from the crew tantalisingly close. She needed to get back. It was that simple. She really couldn’t be far.
Turning she started off again, and hit a wall.
A shining black wall.
It was him.
Kasey found herself at eye-level with his pectorals gleaming in sweat. Slowly - or maybe it wasn’t slowly; maybe it was just that he was that big - she looked up, the journey to his face taking forever. He completely overshadowed her, a black colossus that blocked all light.
Then there was his face, serene and implacable; his eyes quizzical. What did he think of her, Kasey wondered? How did she appear to him? Tiny? Insignificant? Had he seen a white woman before? Then Kasey remembered her silk bathrobe. How did that look to him?
He stepped to one side.
Kasey looked at him, wondering if it was this easy - was he allowing her to go on? She took a step forward, but her eyes didn’t leave his. His expression remained unchanged. She took another step, and he remained unmoved. He might as well have been one of the trees.
‘Thanks,’ Kasey said, completely unaware of why she said it - he wouldn’t have understood.
Continuing forward she put one quavering leg in front of the other, but held his eye until she passed him. Her heart thumped feverishly in her chest and her breath came in short, ragged gasps, but she wanted to portray she wasn’t scared - at least not hysterically.
When she had passed him she lowered her head - almost out of embarrassment for her predicament - and kept her gaze on the path in front of her. She quickened her step, feeling his eyes on her back. She imagined his amusement - or maybe it wasn’t his amusement, but the anticipation of what Charles would say when she returned to the site.
Sure enough, when she got back several minutes later Charles was there to greet her with a smirk. ‘How was your little adventure?’ he asked.
There was no way he could know what happened to her, but his attitude was annoyingly condescending. ‘It was fine,’ she said, looking back at the path from which she’d come. It twisted and disappeared into the jungle, but she could feel him out there, could feel him still watching her.
‘Kasey!’ Roger said, approaching. ‘We’ve been waiting for you. Where were you? We were just about to send somebody out to look for you.’
She said nothing. What could she tell them?
‘Kasey, are you all right?’ Roger asked.
‘Can we get this started?’
‘That’s what we’ve wanted to do.’ Roger gestured for the hairdresser and make-up artist. ‘No offence, Kasey, but I think you should stop these little expeditions of yours. Every time you’ve come back from them you’ve been a mess. So, you know, how about staying on-site from now on?’
‘No problem, Roger,’ she told him.
Chapter VIII
Kasey closed her eyes and lay back in the bathtub as far as she could stretch. It was small - even for her - and she had to fold her knees to fit. The water, which was lukewarm (but cooling to a delightful chill), lapped about her body, and she thought if she could’ve gotten more comfortable it would be a perfect place to sleep for the night.
If sleep did indeed come to her tonight.
She was exhausted. Since coming here she was tired all the time - probably a combination of the gruelling schedule, as well as the simple matter of the constant sweating and dehydration. Despite that, though, she couldn’t relax. Her mind was alive with thoughts of the day’s events.
The shoot had bordered on disastrous. Roger was astounded at her lack of focus. But Kasey couldn’t concentrate. She was sure he was out there, watching her. How would any of them know? For all they knew he could be standing in the bushes, or hidden in a tree. Paranoia, maybe, but definitely not beyond the realms of possibility.
Because he’d tracked her down. There was no other explanation - not only for seeing him again, but doing so in the circumstances that had unfolded. Yesterday they’d seen one another from a distance. Kasey retreated, and thought that would be the end of the encounter. Had he come to the lake site, to spy on her from behind some rocky outcropping? Maybe. But then today he’d shadowed her in the jungle. Then she’d fallen, and while she’d been getting up he slipped behind her.
These were all premeditated actions.
Why, though?
Maybe she’d intrigued him - how many petite white blondes would he have seen in his life? Or, more likely, after she’d surprised him yesterday, maybe he’d wanted to investigate whether she was a threat. That seemed likelier and, if that was the case, he should be satisfied she meant him no harm. Why else would he step aside for her?
She needed now to heed Roger’s advice - no more excursions. She’d go straight to each site; she’d sit there until they were ready, keeping company with Charles if required; she’d focus on the shoot at hand, and then back to the house.
But even as the decision firmed in her mind she felt a tinge of regret. There had been something about the native, something that touched a very primal part of her. Maybe it was because he represented everything her life wasn’t. Fame had sheltered her, as well as pampered her. There wasn’t a luxury she didn’t enjoy, not a person in the civilised world who didn’t know who she was. And with that being the case her life had lost something, had lost the spontaneity of impulse.
Perhaps that was all this had really been about - rebelling. Her growing fame had asphyxiated her everyday freedom. Minders planned every move. In its own way it had grown claustrophobic.
She pulled the plug out of the tub, got out and dried off. Then she returned to the bedroom, turned off the light and walked to the double-doors to look out at the jungle.
It was just a silhouette now, a black mass that was quiet and depthless and - in a way - desolate. She’d come here for a series of scenic backdrops, to use the locale as little more than a playground. Maybe that had also influenced her decisions. Well, no more. From now on she was going to take this seriously.
She went to bed, and despite her earlier concerns, was asleep in minutes.
Chapter IX
Kasey awoke to her mouth clamped and a weight upon her.
It was him.
His face was just inches from hers, their eyes locked, his hand covering her mouth. Kasey didn’t struggle. There was no point. His body, which felt like granite, smothered her. She imagined she could flail with all her might and still not move a muscle.
There was a smell in the room; something sweet and cloying, like incense. Her eyes darted to and fro, and she saw on the floor by the double-doors, which were now ajar, a thin stream of smoke rose from a small wooden bowl. As it filled the room she found its scent, which was like overripe cherries, nauseating to the point that her eyes watered and her head was awash with dizziness.
He brought his free hand to his face, and through teary eyes Kasey saw him lift a single finger to his lips in the universal gesture for silence. Then, warily, he removed his other hand from her mouth and she felt him tense, as if bracing himself.
In this instant, and this instant alone, she knew she had him. If she said nothing she was making an unspoken pact to trust him. But if she screamed... what would he do? Kasey thought he wouldn’t hurt her; she was harmless. He’d probably flee and that would be it - not just for n
ow, but forever.
She said nothing.
Placing his hands on the bed to either side of her shoulders he pushed himself up so that he was poised above her. Kasey felt his cock dangle from his crotch and rest upon her thigh. Like the rest of him it was big and hard, and although she knew it shouldn’t given the circumstances, the thought of it touching her body excited her.
Then he lowered his face to her face, and she thought he was going to kiss her. She closed her eyes expectantly, but instead was startled when he sniffed. Opening her eyes she was just in time to see him lower his head towards her throat and sniff again. It was as if he was judging her by scent, the way one would judge a wine by its bouquet.
With agonising attention he continued to work his way down, until he was poised above her right breast. She could feel the stubble on his face bristle her skin, his hot breath upon her nipple. Her own breathing deepened and she felt her nipples stiffen and her crotch moisten. Did he realise what he was doing to her?
Then he sniffed again.
And resumed working his way down, until he was off her and his face was above her bellybutton - sniff! Lower he went, and Kasey could feel his breath on her pubic hairs and wisp into her vulva. She shivered, her legs parting instinctively, and she was certain he would launch himself upon her and bury his face in her crotch.
But he sniffed again.
He continued down her body, sniffing over her thighs, her knees, and her ankles. He was trying to determine something about her. What? Her purity? Her carnality? Her willingness? How could he ascertain those things, though, when she didn’t know herself?
But she did know. Her body had answered those questions and it stunned her. It was irrational. Maybe it was the incense. Her head span, the way it did when she drank too much. She knew she should be scared but she wasn’t. Was that also the incense? She wanted to blame it, but knew she’d be lying.
He slid from her to the floor, kneeling at the foot of the bed. Then he rose to his full height, uncoiling like a snake, and stood over her. In silhouette she could see the curves of his body, the shape of his cock - erect and protruding from his loincloth - hanging from his crotch.
Turning, he strode from the bedroom to the patio, and Kasey realised he was going to leave. She sat up, tadpoles of light dancing before her eyes. As he mounted the balustrade he looked back to her one final time. She pushed herself to her feet, started across the bedroom. He jumped, disappeared, just as she found herself on the patio, staring forlornly into the darkness, the cool night air searing her enflamed body, igniting her lust, incinerating her inhibition.
‘No...’
She bowed her head, turned back to the bedroom, and was so startled her shriek hiccupped into a gulp. He was back! By the doorway. But as he came forward she realised it wasn’t him - it was somebody built remarkably like him; who looked remarkably like him; but he had a topknot of hair tied back in a ring of gold.
Before Kasey could object he stooped and hauled her into a fireman’s carry. Kasey felt her thighs thud into his chest, her breasts bounce into his back, her pubic triangle ground upon the dome of his shoulder muscle; she thought of the way her butt must be exposed protuberantly and she should be horrified and, if not, at the very least self-conscious.
She thought she should scream, but she was unafraid, and was certain that the incense was at least responsible for this facet of her response. Maybe it had quieted her trepidation to allow her to make this decision. Just as she’d decided not to scream when the native had taken his hand from her mouth, she’d decided to follow - that’s why she’d gone out to the patio. Maybe if she’d stayed in her bedroom none of this would be happening.
Circling an arm around the small of her back, Topknot leapt onto the balustrade of the porch, posing there, like a cat. Then he fell and a gasp of breath exploded from Kasey’s mouth as he landed upon the ground, nimbly but with enough force to propel his shoulder into her waist. He didn’t pause to check whether she was okay. Instead he ran into the blackness of the jungle.
Topknot moved assuredly, seeming to pick his way from memory, and Kasey had no real concept of how long she bounced on his shoulder. Perhaps as much as an hour, perhaps as little as fifteen minutes; time had no meaning in the darkness of the jungle.
She tried to remember the passage as it unravelled before her eyes, but that was hopeless too. There were numerous twists and turns, a continual progression down and a handful of sharp descents, culminating in several passages where the trees were so tight they were almost impossible to squeeze through.
Eventually he came to a halt and crouched, and Kasey slid from his shoulder and back to her feet, her legs shaky under her. She turned to look at him, and found they’d arrived at a village. There were thatched huts surrounding a small courtyard that had been cobbled using every rock imaginable. Three boundaries of flaming torches surrounded the perimeter of the village; the perimeter of the courtyard; and one in-between, crackling as they burned.
Then Kasey made out the people. They sat on the ground in circles expanding from the courtyard. They wore single-sided loincloths, regardless of their gender. Kasey hadn’t known what to expect - more physical specimens like her original native and Topknot, maybe; and while there were a handful, most of them were unspectacular. The most amazing thing about them was how quietly they sat, if not stoically.
Three women moved towards her, startling her. This group was atypical. They were stunning, possibly in their early twenties, their bodies taut, their breasts firm, their arms, bellies, and thighs muscled, their hair braided into dreadlocks, their faces haughty, as if they thought Kasey was beneath them.
The two women on the flanks took Kasey by the wrists and led her into the village towards the courtyard; Kasey allowing herself to be dragged. She thought that whatever effect the incense had on her remained, and she was witnessing everything as if through a stupor. Or maybe that was shock. Everything was surreal.
She saw there were two wooden posts in the courtyard, and behind it, about table-high, a slab of granite. The sight of the slab chilled her, and anxiety momentarily flared within her mind. She considered all the uses the slab might have, and the thought pronounced in her mind was a sacrifice.
She struggled, although her flailing felt weak, as if she was moving through water. The two women tied her wrists to the posts using vine, and then did the same with her ankles. Then they turned and departed, leaving Kasey - continuing to struggle ineffectually - to face the last of the trio.
This woman looked the youngest, perhaps in her earliest twenties. She was gorgeous, with deep brown, Eurasian-shaped eyes, high cheekbones and full lips, but the thing Kasey saw most in her face was disdain.
Eurasia stepped up to her, close enough that she could feel the warmth emanating from her body. Kasey’s struggles abated. She sensed real menace. For whatever reason, Eurasia didn’t like her.
She looked directly into Eurasia’s eyes. Fear was starting to creep back into her mind, but she was determined not to be intimidated. Eurasia smirked, a small smile that curved the left corner of her full lips and made her look even more contemptuous. Kasey didn’t flinch and held her gaze.
The two other women returned, bearing a wooden pail between them. They set it at Kasey’s feet as Eurasia stepped back. Kasey looked down into the pail and saw sponges floating in a viscous, opaque liquid - a goo-like oil was the best way to describe it. A scent lifted sluggishly from it and cloyed her nostrils. It smelled like the incense.
Each woman took a sponge from the pail, Eurasia remaining directly in front, the other two flanking and just behind Kasey.
Eurasia thrust the sponge forward, directly into Kasey’s crotch and held it there. Kasey shuddered and shrieked. The sponge was like ice and her breath exploded from her lungs. Rivulets of the goo dripped from the sponge and down the insides of her thighs, burning contrails of frostbit
e. Kasey shivered uncontrollably, her breasts jiggling, and she saw the smile on Eurasia’s face broaden. The bitch had enjoyed her response.
The other sponges thrust into Kasey’s shoulder-blades. She gasped and tried to pull away, but it was impossible. Unlike Eurasia they didn’t linger, moving the sponges down her back, over her buttocks, back up her sides, over her breasts, her shoulders, and onto her shoulder-blades to repeat the process. Then Eurasia moved also, kneeling, thrusting her sponge across Kasey’s pussy, onto her anus, up the crack of her butt, down one leg, back up the other and onto her crotch again.
Kasey felt all the air in her lungs evaporate and she wanted to scream, but all that emerged was a breathless rasp. She looked down, saw that her nipples were painfully swollen, saw her pubic hair moist and glistening, saw the goo cling thickly to her body, gleaming, shining in the torchlight.
‘Udu!’ the villagers shouted, clapping their hands together.
Kasey had no idea what it meant, but almost as if in response a warmth grew between her legs. Tendrils of heat seared through her vulva, over her buttocks and down her legs. Then the sensation began on her shoulders, descending to the small of her back, over her hips, her belly, and up across her breasts. Her whole body felt afire, and she pitched her head back and let out a throaty breath.
‘Udu!’ the villagers chanted and clapped again.
It was the goo - burning, spreading, encompassing her entire body. Eurasia stepped sharply aside and the huts in front of Kasey shifted to the left and blurred, smearing into an undefined light. Then she realised they were still, and it was her vision that was shifting, the scene before her swaying violently in a kaleidoscopic aura.
‘Udu!’
There were more sponges on her now; were there more women? Kasey looked down and saw only Eurasia. But she had a sponge in each hand. Did the other women now have two each? The sponges felt as if they were everywhere, smearing her in a liquid blaze.
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