Conquest Of The Golden Goddess Ch 03

The native shook Tracey awake with his foot the next morning and fed her some more fruit. Still tethered by the leash, she walked around the other side of the tree to relieve herself while her captor untied Peter from his tree. She studied her boyfriend carefully when she returned. He was kneeling in the dirt, staring at the stream running past. The native detached the leash from her collar and returned it to his bag. Then he hefted her up on his shoulder again and, with Peter in tow, he proceeded further into the dense bush.

Tracey looked back at Peter, following miserably behind them, urged on by the occasional sharp yank of his leash. She made eye contact, but he quickly broke it.

***What if we don't get out of this? He's taken us so far from the plane already, they'll never find us.***

With that thought, she envisioned with dread the millions of sperm inside her, swimming relentlessly in search of her egg. Could she do it? Could she do it without a hospital and a doctor and nurses?

***No, I wouldn't survive.***

Around noon, it began to get brutally hot, and the native stopped in a heavily shaded area by the stream he had been following. He laid Tracey on a soft bed of moss and bound Peter tightly to a tree. Tracey did not even think about trying to run while his back was turned. She remembered the hard slap from yesterday and did not want a second. He had broken her, she realized. One slap and she was broken into compliance.

When Peter was tied, the native returned to her and made a motion with his hand. She sensed he was asking her to roll over onto her belly. Without hesitation, she obeyed, and pulled her knees up underneath herself, raising her backside into the air and turning her face away from Peter. There was no use in trying to struggle.

Long fingers slid inside her and worked her labia. In seconds, she was slippery and wet. He placed his hand across her face and pinned her head to the ground again.

***Yes. Hold me down. Show Peter I can't stop this.***

Secretly, she wondered if that was really why she wanted him to hold her head down.

She gasped when he entered her and prayed that he would go slowly this time. He did. In and out, back and forth. Within seconds, her breathing matched his rhythm, and the lazy feelings of delight began to throb inside her. She closed her eyes and tried to pretend it was Peter fucking her. That was no use--she always faced Peter, and he never held her down.

As she succumbed to the steady pounding of the native's penis and began to lose control, the man grabbed her hair and yanked her head up. The orgasm exploded inside her at the violent yank and her face was forcibly turned toward Peter in that one insane moment of ecstasy. She saw her boyfriend watching again. The man pinned her head back to the ground, now facing Peter. She wanted to close her eyes, but somehow couldn't. Peter was staring right at her.

***I'm so sorry, baby. I can't imagine what you're going through. He should take me away into the trees for this. If only I could ask him.***

The native let out a howl and throbbed inside her pussy, discharging another legion of sperm into Tracey's body. As he pulled out, he slapped her ass hard, sending her falling sideways again into the fetal position. She lay still, curling her toes while faint spasms of pleasure continued down her legs. The native knelt behind her and took her by the arms. With some effort he undid the cord binding her hands and stuffed it back into the bag.

He spoke some of his mysterious language to her as she rubbed her wrists. He held the knife up between them. She nodded.

***Don't try anything, I understand.***

The man gave a slight nod and walked off into the trees, leaving her alone with Peter. Momentarily, free, Tracey rushed to the stream and quickly cleaned between her legs with the water. She reached wet fingers up inside herself in some vain hope of expelling at least some of the man's seed.

"I'm sorry, Tracey." Peter's voice sounded weak and despairing. Tears spilled down his cheeks as he watched her. "Don't try to untie me. He'd just hurt you again."

Tracey tiptoed over to Peter. They were the first real steps she had taken since she laid eyes on their captor and her knees gave out. "Peter, you have nothing to be sorry for."

He struggled to slowly shake his head. "I do, I do. I didn't protect you. I let him take you. I tried to fight him, but he was so fucking strong, and he had the knife!" He began to sob and instinctively, she leaned forward, holding him close to her. "Then I said those things about you last night."

"Don't worry about that now."

"But why? Why did you like it? Do you like him better than me? You never act like that when we're together."

"Peter, he's raping me! I can't help how my body responds to it."

"I'm sorry. It's just so fucking hard to watch."

She held his head and stroked his matted, filthy hair. She wanted to tell him she understood, but a cold sensation rose up in her chest instead. "Then stop watching."

"What?"

"Seriously, Peter, I want you to stop watching when he does that to me. It's humiliating enough without knowing that you're watching... and you're aroused by it!"

Peter's voice cracked. "I can't help that! I don't know why that happens."

"Well, if you don't watch, then it won't happen."

"Okay. I'll stop. I'm sorry."

"Promise."

"I promise."

"All right. Now we need to start thinking about how we're going to get out of here. I could make a run for it now, but I have no idea where we even are and without any clothes or shoes..."

"He'd just run you down. He's like a fucking animal. He'd run you down and he'd hurt you."

Tracey nodded. "You're right. We need a plan. Just try to think of a way we can both escape and have a chance. It's too late now, but next time I think I should try to undo your leash as soon as he leaves."

"Okay, we'll think about it. I wonder if he would try to stop us talking to each other? He would have no idea what we're saying."

"Good idea. We'll try it when he comes back."

Peter's eyes went sideways to the trees where the native disappeared. "I think he's hunting."

"Probably. Or at least gathering fruit."

"Can you do something for me? Please? Before he comes back?"

"What?"

"Can you... Can you make me feel good?"

"Now?"

"Please! I need this, Tracey. I need to feel like you're really mine."

Tracey looked into the jungle and listened for any sounds of their captor returning. "Okay." She laid her hand on his knee and slowly ran it up the inside of his thigh, where his penis waited erect for her touch. She ran her fingers lightly along the underside, which always seemed to be the most sensitive part. Then she wrapped her hand around it and began to stroke.

"No," Peter whispered. "Your mouth. Please."

Tracey shot him a brief glare. "Seriously? What if--"

"Please," he wept.

He looked so miserable and pathetic that Tracey's heart swelled. "All right. Tell me when you're about to get there, though. I don't want it in my mouth."

"I will. I swear."

She shifted position and curled up on her knees between his feet. He closed his eyes as she lowered her head, and her hair spilled across his thighs and belly. She took the tip into her mouth first and winced at the strong salty taste and the foul smell of his unwashed body.

***I must really love you, Peter.***

Gently, her head began to bob up and down between his knees. Gradually, her saliva washed away the sweat and grime. She breathed through her nose and increased the pace with which she ran her lips from the tip to the base. Peter was kind of small and she could take him all the way into her mouth without gagging. He actually had the smallest one of the four she had seen.

Peter began to let out long, satisfied gasps, which she took to mean he was getting close, but not too close to warn her yet. Tracey reached up and began to lightly caress his balls while her head bobbed faster and faster. Suddenly, her mouth was filled with salty, sticky semen. She gagged and reeled backwards, swallowing half of it by reflex. Coughing, she turned to the stream and stuck her face in the water, scrubbing the slippery fluid off her lips and chin and nose. She swirled water in her mouth and spit, then repeated the process several more times.

She stood up and glared at her boyfriend.

"I'm so sorry. I was--" Peter stopped abruptly. There was a rustling in the distance. Tracey ran back to where the native had left her and sat down, and Peter put his knees together.

After a few moments, the native returned to the clearing with another dead animal and a bag full of the same green fruit. Tracey stood up and he gave her a curious look. She turned toward her boyfriend. "Peter, I'm testing to see whether we can talk..."

There was a flash of light and Tracey was lying on the ground with her head ringing and a throbbing pain on the side of her face. The native stood over her yelling furiously at her. Then Peter began to yell, and the man turned his violent attention to him. By the time Tracey managed to sit up, Peter's left eye was swelling shut and his nose was smashed and bleeding. She felt a knot of swelling just to the right of her right eye and pressed her hand to it. Their captor huffed and then went about the business of cooking the animal and feeding them fruit.

***All right. No talking.***

After noon passed and the day cooled some more, the native hoisted Tracey over his shoulder, her wrists still unbound, and walked several more miles through the jungle until the sky began to darken and they made camp. They ate a little more and then the native sat down and lounged against a rock beside where she sat.

His eyes ran from her feet up the length of her body and back again and she saw his penis begin to grow and stiffen. Again? she marveled. Then Tracey had an idea. Her hands were free. Perhaps this man would be satisfied another way. She shifted toward him and reached out to touch his shaft. The man started at first but then relaxed and watched curiously as she gently caressed him, brushing the underside of his penis with a feather light touch. The native closed his eyes and she began to slowly stroke, back and forth. A low satisfied moan welled up from the native's chest and his head fell back against the tree.

Tracey carefully continued, glancing over at Peter, who was watching with puzzlement. Her blue eyes flashed, and she jerked her head to one side. Getting the message, he closed his eyes tight.

***This is going to work. At least for one night, I'll get some peace.***

She began to wonder how long it would take to coax his sperm out onto the ground, but then her captor opened his eyes and gave her a lustful look. With a sudden move, he pounced, grabbing her left leg and thrusting it into the air. She fell sideways, facing the fire, and he straddled her right leg while still holding the left aloft. Before she could protest or resist, he was inside her, fucking her sideways. His penis, which was slightly curved, rubbed hard against the sensitive part of the front of her pussy and her juices flowed. Her arms bent together in front of her, and she gripped her own hair.

***Oh my God, this is incredible!***

She began to gasp and moan with each thrust. As waves of pleasure shot through her body, Tracey's eyes opened. Peter sat helpless across from them, eyes wide open, and penis erect and quivering. He was watching again, after she had asked him not to. Anger welled up in her chest, but it seemed to only intensify her delight.

***Fuck you then, Peter. I hope you enjoyed your blowjob.

The thrusting continued until the native had satisfied his lust. All the while, Tracey screamed her ecstasy to the tree tops as punishment for her boyfriend's broken promise. Peter ejaculated again, just watching them.

======================

The next day, Tracey awoke to a dark jungle and a rumbling sky. The native looked worriedly at the heavens for some time before untying Peter and lifting Tracey up again on his shoulder. They walked only for an hour or so, covering maybe a mile along the stream. They were moving against the flow of the water, which Tracey instinctively sensed to mean that they were going farther away from civilization.

Their captor finally came to a stop under a massive tree with low and dense canopy. He tied Peter's leash to a root that bent upward and left some space beneath it. Unlike the other times, he simply secured the leash and did not wrap Peter's neck directly to the tree. This allowed him some leeway to move around, but his hands remained tied behind him. Tracey saw flecks of blood on his irritated red wrists. No sooner was her boyfriend tied up then it began to rain

The rain was like nothing Tracey had ever seen in her life. The jungle vanished behind a gray blur, leaving them dry under the tree. The man walked over to where he had laid her on the ground and her pussy tinged and moistened. Tracey tensed up, and she mentally prepared to be raped again. Her plan was to submit without a struggle. The man had been more or less gentle with her, even when she fought him a little the second time. There was no stopping it now. If he impregnated her then he impregnated her. It was best to just get it over with as quickly as she could. Besides, it might feel good again.

But the native did not rape her under the tree. Not just then. He simply sat beside her and watched the rain fall. After a while, he reached his arm around her and pulled her head down onto his lap. She lay like that for a long time with him stroking and playing with her hair. He picked it up in his hands and peered closely at the honey yellow locks as though they were some magical substance that he had discovered.

When the rain finally stopped, it did not really stop. Rather it slowed to a normal rainstorm the likes of which Tracey had seen a million times in New York. The jungle around them came back into view, the billions of leaves slick with rain. The native stood, took her hand, and pulled her up to her feet. Her body tensed, wondering what would come next. Leading her by the hand, he took her out into the rain. They left Peter alone, lying on the ground.

The rain felt good and was not too cold. It wasn't falling fast enough to drench her, but it ran down her small, pretty nose and dripped onto her upper lip. They walked hand in hand until Peter and the tree were beyond sight. And still they walked on.

***He's letting me walk...***

Finally, she heard rushing water, and they came into view of a waterfall cascading down the grey stone of a cliff. The native walked straight into the falling water where it splashed down on the ground, and he pulled her in with him. The flow quickly beat her hair down into a soaking curtain around her head and she pushed her bangs back from her eyes. The native stood beside her rubbing his body briskly, scrubbing away the grime and sweat. When he was finished, he turned and did the same to Tracey. His hands scrubbed firmly, but gently up her inner thighs and cleaned away the sticky mess between her legs. She sighed, grateful to be clean again.

When they were finished, the man took her hand again and brought her to an overhang that was dry underneath. They stood and watched the rain, which seemed to be picking up again. Lightning struck in the distance and the crash turned Tracey's skin to gooseflesh. The man saw this and rubbed her shoulders. Then she felt it. His erect penis brushed against her buttocks.

***At least we have privacy this time...***

Without looking back at the man, Tracey got down on all fours. It gave her a defeated feeling, but it beat having him manhandle her into position. He was the conqueror. She was his prize now. She wondered if she would spend the rest of her life as a prize.

The man walked around her and crouched down, pushing her back up into a kneeling position. She could see he was still long and stiff, but he took her chin and locked eyes with her.

"Tano," he said, tapping his chest.

***Tano? Is that your name?***

"Tano," he repeated, continuing to tap his chest. Then for the first time since he had leered at Peter while raping her, the man smiled. Except this was not a gloating grin of victory, it was a genuine, warm smile.

"Tano," Tracey repeated. Then she touched his smooth, slick chest. "Tano."

Tano smiled and caressed her cheek with his fingertips.

Tracey tapped her own chest. "Tracey."

The man looked confused and shook his head, saying something she did not comprehend. Then he reached out and gently tapped her right between her breasts. "Ona Ata," he said.

Now it was her turn to look confused. She shook her head and tapped her chest. "No, I'm Tracey."

Tano shook his head back and pushed her hand away. Then he tapped her chest sharply over and over again. "Ona Ata, Ona Ata, Ona Ata!"

***He's renaming me? I guess that's his right now. It's probably for the better. God only knows what Peter will do if this man starts calling me by my name.***

Tracey tapped her chest. "Ona Ata," she conceded.

Tano smiled again. He tapped her chest. "Ona Ata." Then he tapped his own. "Tano."

He stood up and Tracey began to do likewise, but he stopped her with a hand on the top of her head. She looked up at him from her knees. "Tano?" she asked.

Tano took his erect shaft in one hand and took her chin in the other, and it was instantly clear what he wanted. Tracey opened her mouth and took his penis into it. The skin was cool at first, but it quickly warmed as she ran her lips up and down the length of him. She could not take the entire thing into her mouth without choking, so she did didn't try. Instead, she ran her tongue back and forth across the underside of his shaft, and this seemed to please him greatly.

Tano grabbed the top of Tracey's head and pushed it back and forth, back and forth on his penis, forcing it deeper. For an instant, Tracey considered something drastic.

***What if I bite it off? He would be in such shock and pain that I could escape. I could run back to the tree and free Peter. He could take a rock or find Tano's knife and finish him while he was writhing on the ground in agony. We could retrace our steps back to the crash site and get rescued. We could forget this ever happened. We could have our vacation, he can give me the ring, we can get married in the little white church in town, we could buy a house, we could have babies, Kayla and Sean, and Christmas by the fire and soccer games and proms and college and weddings and grand kids! We could bury these last three days under a mountain of ten thousand happy ones.***

Tracey did not bite Tano. Tracey obediently sucked his penis until he shot a heavy load of warm, salty fluid into her mouth. Then she swallowed all of it without complaint.

Tano took her again that night under the tree while Peter watched.