The Taking of Helene

Hank Harris, the handsome and big American hunter shook hands with Ki-Gor, the African jungle lord, their partnership had been rewarding for both of them. The animals captured would go to various zoos and the supplies the American had provided in exchange for the beasts would make excellent provisions for the Masai and Pygmy tribes. Even now, Ki-Gor's two closest friends, Masai warrior Tembu George and Pygmy chief N'gesso were leading their men towards their respective kralls under the many bags and crates of largess from the American hunter. This close, Ki-Gor was intimidating indeed. Well over six feet tall, blonde, blue-eyed, deeply tanned, and muscular almost beyond belief from a life lived in the jungle. Orphaned as a small child, he had come to manhood, swinging from the trees like an ape wearing little more than a pair of leopard-skin trunks. Few men, on any continent, could compare to him.

Not that Hank Harris was a slouch, he was nearly as tall as the jungle lord but less well-muscled He had dark black hair and deep brown eyes. Harris's own men were heading off in a third direction, their cages and occupied boxes bound for the coast and an awaiting ship. Harris would follow in a day's time. The huge blonde jungle lord had invited Harris and his assistant, Rose Andres to spend a final night in the jungle clearing. Harris might have begged off if not for the presence of Helene, Ki-Gor's flame-haired wife. Helene was American by birth. A noted female aviatrix, Ki-Gor had rescued the astoundingly beautiful woman from lecherous Arab slavers when her plane had crashed in a remote part of the jungle lord's realm. Now, after several years, Helene had adapted fully to jungle life. Her skin was as deeply tanned as hr husband's and she wore only the briefest of leopard skin halters and matching breach clout unabashedly.

Hank Harris had never seen a woman more beautiful or desirable. Such beauty was worth risking even the fury of the mighty Ki-Gor to possess. Even now, Hank's inner eye imagined the fabulous Helene naked. He could just see her succulent breasts and red-thatched pussy. The woman was as lithe and limber as the most elite ballerina, with charming face seemingly chiseled out of finest marble or rarest china. Her green eyes reminded Hank of those of the she leopard whose skin she wore and the famous American hunter could just imagine what those languid eyes were like when suffused with the heat of passion! It made him sad to realize that in another day, this magical creature would be out of his life forever. Hank was willing to do anything, even commit a crime for just a taste of the titian-haired beauty's charms. With a sudden insight he thought of supplies still remaining in his tent. A deliciously evil plan began to unreel in his mind. Suddenly, Hank realized that there was a way that not only could he have Helene all to himself, he could also make her cowed husband watch powerlessly as he witnessed her ravishment!

Even allowing for an extra day, Hank could rendezvous with his men in plenty of time to board the ship. Delaying the angry Ki-Gor long enough for he and Rose to make their escape would not be a problem. The twisted cogs in Harris's head spun and the man took another long leer at Helene, A woman like that was worth the risk. If by some fluke, Ki-Gor escaped and killed Hank in retribution the American hunter would enter paradise with a smile wider than any corpse in history ever wore. "At least it would be quick," he thought, "and relatively painless. There are far worse ways to die." He made his way to Rose's tent.

His assistant Rose could deny Hank nothing. She was in his thrall and would do anything to make him happy. In truth, the relationship was mostly one sided. Rose thought Hank Harris the most dashing and wisest man she had even met. Not even the mighty Ki-Gor, handsome and powerful as he was, compared to her heart's desire. Rose's eternal hope was that if she could please Hank in just the right way, he would reciprocate her love. As far as Hank was concerned, Rose was usually too mousy and timid for his tastes. She was attractive, but not in the way that Hank preferred. He liked his women tall and lithe, like Helene, Rose Andres was short and a bit stocky. Her face was just to the pretty side of plain but she had a lovely smile and two quite succulent lips, giving her a vaguely exotic appearance. She had an ample bust which she tended to hide under dowdy clothing. Rose had tried out different hair color shades to in an unsuccessful quest to find one that made her irresistible to her boss. She was a wise and resourceful woman however and Hank found her irreplaceable as an assistant. She could balance the books like nobody else and the skill and tact with which she dealt with all sorts of people, from zookeepers and native guides magnified her value exponentially. By varying his committal to marriage, Hank could get Rose to do just about anything. Hank smiled to himself, he knew it had not been foolhardy to include his late mother's engagement ring in his luggage!

Later that night, Ki-Gor heard soft crying and panicked gasps. Something was wrong in the tent of the woman, Rose Andres! Being careful to not wake his slumbering bride, Ki-Gor made his way quietly but swiftly out of his tent. Under the full light of a Savannah moon, Ki-Gor found rose facing a scorpion in a panic so intense it had robbed her voice of volume. Ki-Gor also noted that the usually demurely clad woman was naked. Though Ki-Gor was a one woman man and that woman was Helene, he was as hormonal as any red-blooded man. He noted the abundant curve of Rose's melon like breasts and her cascading deep brown hair. The frightened look on her face spurred Ki-Gor into action. Silently he slipped into the interior of the tent and crushed the deadly scorpion with a strike of his fist so fast the eye could not follow it.

"My hero!" gasped Rose as she fell into Ki-Gor's arms. The blond jungle lord awkwardly held the naked body, so surprisingly alluring and so unlike that of his familiar Helene. Through some accident or legerdemain, Ki-Gor's hands brushed Rose's full breasts and the bright pink nipples in her light brown areolas pressed sharply against his skin. Before Ki-Gor could object, Rose's voluptuous lips were on his own and he was receiving her passionate kiss. As Rose held him tighter did it began to don on the ape-man that something was wrong. He felt a sudden numbness on his lips followed by instant dizziness and the sensation of anesthetic sleep. With a sudden insight, the jungle lord realized that he had been drugged, something in Rose's lipstick was acting on his system like the darts the pygmies used to stunned their prey. Ki-Gor fought to free himself from Rose's grasp, but his body had already absorbed too much of the drug. Before a warning cry could escape his lips, the might jungle lord lay unconscious in the arms of Rose Andres.

Rose smiled as the huge blond muscleman stiffened in her arms and then sagged senseless. She disentangled his nerveless limbs from about her and gently stretched out the lord of the jungle on the floor of her tent. She gathered up a rag and some alcohol and wiped the anesthetic from her lips as well as the heavy wax coating which prevented her own body from absorbing the drug and felt certain that Hank would very much approve of her damsel in distress routine. She lit a lamp in her tent, the signal to Hank that she had performed her duty and took a long appreciative appraisal of the physical specimen on display. With a mischievous leer, she went to drawstring of his leopard skin shorts beneath the astoundingly muscular stomach and untied it. She grasped the belt of the shorts and forced them down the jungle lord's abdomen.

Ki-Gor's huge, even while flaccid, penis was exposed to the African night. Rose was hopelessly devoted to Hank Harris but Ki-Gor's primal, almost animal intensity, struck something deep within her. For only a passing moment, she envied Helene her jungle man's devotion. She imagined Ki-Gor's massive phallus probing her own salty intimacy before replacing the jungle lord's manhood in her mind with that of her beloved Hank. Now, the man she adored could deny her no longer. Rose gazed at the heirloom wedding ring Hank had gifted her and her subsequent smile became nearly as incandescent as the hovering African moon.

A moment later, Hank Harris strode into Rose's tent. The young woman had made no effort to conceal her body. "If Ki-Gor can see me naked, Hank certainly can." she reasoned to herself. Harris was surprised at how lovely and desirable Rose appeared in the soft light of the lantern. He had no idea that her tits were so fantastic for one thing and her hair, worn this way, was quite beautiful. After first discerning that Rose had wiped the drug from her provocative lips, Hank kissed her deeply. For Rose, it was everything she had dreamed of. This was their first real kiss. It was so unlike the chaste pecks that had marked their relationship until now. Rose was disappointed indeed when Hank broke off the osculations.

"I must work quickly to achieve my aims, Love. The taste I provided you will be a gourmet meal once we are aboard the ship for home."

Rose flushed with pride and desire as she contemplated that promised future.

"Now, however," continued Hank, "You must take your things and retire to my tent. No matter what you hear do not leave my tent until I come for you. Disobey me and I MIGHT ask for the return of my mother's ring."

"Absolutely darling," replied Rose as she hurried to collect some clothing and other things she would need until summoned by her heart's desire. Several romance novels went into her satchel. "Someday, Hank and my story would make a great source for a novel." thought Rose to herself as she slid a thin robe around her naked form, hoisted her satchel and made her way to Hank's tent.

Hank took only a moment to appreciate her retreating form before he set to work from his own satchel came a double-bladed device with an armature and a padlock. The curved knife blades were ordinarily used for the castration of animals, now they pressed as opposing menaces on either side of Ki-Gor's testicles. Hank Harris finished closing the padlock on his diabolical device just before the insensate ape-man regained consciousness.

Ki-Gor's eyes flew open. From the leer on the big American's eyes and his sense of discomfort, Ki-Gor understood immediately that something was wrong.

"Welcome back to the world of the living, ape man. Welcome to rule of Hank Harris, the new jungle lord."

"Why you..."

Ki-Gor made a move to rise to his feet only to discover that he was naked and that the American big-game hunter had affixed some contraption to his manhood. The laconic jungle lord's eyes widened in confusion

"I wouldn't mess with that!" stated Harris as Ki-Gor's hands went to the device encircling his balls. Hank presented a thick branch from an acacia tree on which an identical device was attached. Hank waved some object and the twin blades severed the branch with a loud crack.

"If I push this button," continued Harris as he displayed a controller, "the SAME thing happens to your manhood! Would you still be lord of the jungle as a gelding?" he asked, a triumphal smile on his countenance.

After a moment for his shame and rage to pass, Ki-Gor asked,"What is this all about?" the perplexed Ki-Gor then stated, "I thought we were friends."

"Some things are bigger than friendship. Some prizes are worth risking everything for. Shall we continue this conversation in your tent, Ki-Gor?"

The feeling of being beaten and powerless in the grasp of another was an unfamiliar sensation to the mighty Ki-Gor. For the moment, Harris had the upper hand. Ki-Gor certainly did not want to appear humbled before his beloved Helene, but he saw no option. Nor could Ki-Gor's usually tactical mind conceive of a reason why Helene would be involved in what Ki-Gor believed was some sort of dispute between himself and the American hunter.

Ki-Gor allowed himself to lead the way to his tent where Helene still slumbered. Only now did Ki-Gor realize that the Woman Rose Andres was involved with the present chicanery. While Harris's current behavior seemed to Ki-Gor to be coming from nowhere, he could not explain the cooperation of the meek woman except through acute extortion. Ki-Gor wondered where Rose currently was and what kind of hold Harris had on her. It would have seemed impossible to the ape-man for a woman to betray another man for love. In some ways, the mighty Ki-Gor was quite unsophisticated and guileless.

He strode gingerly into the tent where his oblivious beloved slept, Harris a step behind him.

Harris extended his arm forward and soft light filled Ki-Gor's tent. Helene's crimson hair was spread out on her pillow like an angel's nimbus. Asleep the woman was even more beautiful. Her blanket had slid down a bit, giving Harris a wonderful view of the decolletage created by her brief halter. Any doubts about the wrongness of what Hank Harris had planned vanished as renewed lust invigorated his mind and drained his scruples.

Harris made the lantern brighter and stated firmly, "Wake up Mrs. Ki-Gor!"

Helene's eyelids lifted slowly for she had been in a deep slumber. She noted Harris holding a lantern and some other objects and she noted her massive husband. The look on Ki-Gor's face brought the former aviatrix to full attention. She now noted her husband's nudity and the contraption encircling the manhood she adored so much. With a gasp, she was at full attention.

"What is the meaning of this, Mister Harris?" she asked at last.

Hank smiled evilly and replied, "This is a simple trading mission, Mrs. Ki-Gor. Your virtue in exchange for your husband's manhood."

"What do you mean?" asked the delectable flame-haired woman as she pulled her blanket tighter around herself.

"Observe, woman" replied Hank Harris as he produced the now much shorter acacia branch and the twin of the device girdling Ki-Gor's balls. "This device is identical to the one your husband is now wearing."

With a dramatic wave of his hand, Harris pressed the remote control the branch was severed to the sound of a sickening crack.

Helene emitted a horrified gasp.

"This device", the American hunter stated while holding up a small remote, "controls the knives set to amputate your husband's balls. Whether or not I press this button is up to you."

"Me? What do you want Mister Harris? Neither my husband nor I have any use for money, so if you are after that ..."

"I already told you, Helene, princess," stated hank cutting off the lithe redhead's words. "Your virtue in exchange for his balls. Let me share your sensual pleasures and you husband will end the night as a stallion. Deny me, he becomes a gelding. Obedience means that you will be intimate with your husband in the future, deny me and you can continue to live with Ki-Gor as the second queen of the jungle!"

Helene's mouth fell open in a horrified O. "Your wretched, filthy, perverted man!"

"None of those words are 'no'." remarked Harris with a smirk.

"Do not do it, dearest!" stated Ki-Gor. "Nothing is worth your defilement!"

Helene gazed up at her powerful husband with tears in her eyes, knowing that her next words would wound him deeply. "I cannot allow him to harm you, Ki-Gor, my darling. Whatever this snake has me do it is not worth risking you being maimed forever."

"Please!" returned the humbled jungle lord, "There must be some escape from this snare."

Helene met her husband's own angry terrified gaze with her own horror and resolve. "I am afraid that Mister Harris has us at his complete mercy and holds our future in the palm of his hand. Like a good wife, I have to protect you, my darling. Whatever this man does to me tonight, he cannot destroy my love for you and I cannot allow him to steal our future."

Ki-Gor, the mighty jungle lord, hung his head in rage and humiliation. Never before had he been rendered so powerless and so utterly humbled. It was very hard indeed for the top predator in the jungle to accept the role of trapped and imperiled prey.

After a long pause, Helene's turned to face Hank Harris, scorn, and contempt in her eyes.

"What would you have me do, you bastard?" she stated with venom in her voice.

"First of all, I would have you rise and strip for me. That leopard skin is revealing but not quite enough for my tastes."

Helene rolled her eyes and harrumphed. Harris would hardly be the first of Ki-Gor's many foes to spy her naked form. In her time with Ki-Gor, Helene had been stripped and flogged by various villains, both male and female. The last high priest of Atlantis had died her naked her pale skin dark brown in an attempt to pass her off as an African native. An Egyptian priestess had removed and donned Helene's skimpy attire in a masquerade to fool her husband. She had even lost her top to a rampaging Tyrannosaurus Rex before a group of airplane crash survivors! And of course when Ki-Gor had entered her life, she was naked and in the hands of Arab slave traders, but none of those occasions were as humiliating, and none had placed her husband's manhood in immediate danger.

With a heavy sigh, Helene rose to her feet, casting her zebra skin blanket aside. The tall lithe woman shot daggers at Hank Harris before she slid her right arm out of her brief halter and then removed her left arm from the garment. Helene held the skin in front of her for a defiant moment before allowing it to flutter to the floor.

Helene's breasts were even better than they had been in Hank Harris's perverted dreams. Full, yet not overlarge, her breasts were as tan as the rest of her because she and Ki-Gor often frolicked nude in their home, a tree house deep in the jungle. Hank savored the view of her pert conical breasts, light brown areolas, and deep pink nipples. Even from this distance, Hank could just imagine their savory taste.

After a further withering glance in Hank's direction, Helene's hands went to the string that held up her leopard skin breech-clout. It sagged across her hips and then tumbled down her long legs and enticing rump. Hank thought that he had never seen a more enticing pussy than the expanse of golden red pubic hair decorating Helene's loins. The crimson triangle might as well have been heaven as far as Hank was concerned. So what if he was tied down to Rose Andres for a few years, the memory of Helen's perfection, would get Hank through many cold winter nights back in America. His eyes virtually devoured Helene as she stood with her arms at her sides but her head held defiantly high. From the delightful curve of her beautiful feet, up the long shapely legs, flared hips, delicious bush and flat, toned tummy adorned with an intriguing navel, to the rise of her ribs and conical breasts to her soft shoulders and rounded arms to her angelic face, Helene was the personification of perfection. For a time, Hank simply stared, caught in a reverie of beauty.

Then his passions returned. Inside his khaki shorts, Hank Harris was rock hard.

"Kneel before me, liberate my manhood from my trousers and suck like your life depends on doing a spectacular job."

Helen gazed first at Hank and then her husband and asked. "Must Ki-Gor watch this horror?"

"The ape-man doesn't leave my sight. I'm sure he will enjoy the show. And if I feel so much as a single tooth, I push the button that maims your husband."

With a heavy sigh, Helene fell to her knees and reached for the belt of the big hunter's shorts. She had a bit of trouble with the belt and buttons as it had been some time since she had worn western clothing and far longer since she had given head to anyone who was not her husband. Helene recalled her days in college, the nearby men's college was always an interesting place to sneak off to on weekends. Helene could still remember her initial instruction in the art of fellatio. It was a Delta Fraternity party, in their house. She was a freshman, he was a senior. They were alone in his room. As the contents of the bottle of gin diminished, Helene's skills at oral love increased. Even all these years later, she could still recall the salty tang of her first mouthful of cum and her date's joyous sighs. Helene would have given anything for that bottle of gin right now.