"Now take that miscreant at least one hundred miles away and as high into the mountains as you can climb."
The four Gorilla Men grunted their affirmative and hefted the trussed up and gagged lord of the jungle, Ki-Gor, and progressed west towards the snow-capped mountains. As he was carried off, Ki-Gor's steel-gray eyes met Helene's panicked blue ones. Since she had entered his life, the former American aviatrix had been his universe. To have failed so spectacularly in front of her was a humiliation almost too great to bear. Wordlessly they communicated. He tried to convey to his mate that no matter the obstacles, he would find a way to rescue her from the foul clutches of this slimy villain. Helene attempted to relay to her husband that her faith in him was undiminished. She also struggled mightily to not convey her abject terror. She knew that the foul man standing next to her had gone to extreme lengths to separate her from the man she loved. She had a very good idea why. Her eyes darted from those of her mate to the natives arrayed about her with primed arrows in their bows. All it would take was nod from Sharpton and she and Ki-Gor would be dead. With a lump in her throat, she watched all that she loved in the world carried over a hill and out of sight.
"We are alone at last, fair one!" said Sharpton in a crisp Oxford accent.
"I am NOT your fair one!" replied Helene defiantly.
"After I have taken the piss and vinegar out of you, you WILL be." He stated with utter conviction.
"Ki-Gor will find me. You will pay for this outrage Mr. Sharpton."
"I think not. For my Gorilla Men, it is at least a five-day walk to the tops of those mountains. For your musclebound but shallow thinking husband, that translates to a ten-day trip whether he swings by vines or he walks. By that time, you will be far out of his reach. You won't even be in Africa at all in fact."
"Oh, and where WILL I be?"
"That information is classified. However, once we reach our destination you will be properly trained to the submissive role that makes a good and valuable slave indispensable."
"I'm nobody's slave, you, parasite and Ki-Gor WILL rescue me. I almost pity you facing his wrath."
"Defiant to the last are we, darling?"
"Don't "darling" me, you bastard!"
"Language, Helene. Keep it up and you will receive a stringent spanking."
"A real man never has to lay a finger on a woman."
"A woman, no. A slave in training? Absolutely!"
"I am made of far sterner stuff than you can imagine Mr. Sharpton."
"Pride always goeth before a fall."
"You certainly are full of yourself; I will give you that, jerk."
"Enough! We have so much to do. First, you will remove that charming leopard skin halter and your leopard skin breechclout and submit to my inspection."
"Never!" boasted the stunning redhead with the golden tan on her remarkably smooth and unblemished skin.
"You can either take them off willingly or my men will hold you down while I cut them off. Either way, you end up naked. You have to decide which is more humiliating Mrs. Ki-Gor. It is going to happen one way or another."
Helene read the iron-willed intent of the man facing her. The deadly seriousness of his words was achingly clear. She looked from the smirking face of Sharpton to the tribe of mercenaries encircling both of them. The corrupt and vile Englishman had selected his troops carefully. All were from tribes that were the sworn enemies of the jungle lord and his mate. She read the naked lust or their dark faces. Every last one of them would delight in her debasement. There was indeed only one possible answer.
"May we adjourn to your tent, Mr. Sharpton?"
"Certainly, precious."
Helene sighed and allowed Sharpton to lead her to his crisp white tent. Once inside, the Englishman fastened the stays to the front flaps of the tent with one hand while he pointed a vicious knife at Hellene's long and shapely neck. Then he turned and barked, "Strip!"
Helene's flustered hands suddenly had difficulty with the laces to her halter. Her skin flushed even through her tan as the leopard skin came away and fluttered to the floor. Helene immediately tried to conceal her firm young breasts from her tormentor's eyes. But she could only put off removing her scanty bottom leopard skin so long. Her hands came away from her breasts revealing to other occupants of the tent that Helene's tan went all over. Apparently, the rumors of Helene's frequent skinny dipping and nude sunbathing were facts. The breechclout traveled the length of Helene's exceptionally long and beautifully turned legs and she stepped out of them, a defiant, even haughty look upon her lovely face. It was clear to Sharpton as he gazed upon her untrimmed and quite thick carpet of crimson curls at the juncture of her legs that Helene was indeed every inch the natural redhead.
"Satisfied, pervert?" asked Helene in an accusatory voice.
"After I have thoroughly inspected you, I will be."
Helene's eyes rolled heavenward, she emitted a soft sob and said, "Let's get this over with!"
"Fine, spread your legs apart and place your hands upon your head."
Helene groaned but complied.