0 comments/ 15296 views/ 13 favorites Lara Croft vs. Jungle Girl By: justtheone The whole temple complex turned out to be open to the sky. This meant, thinking ahead, when she brought a complete team back here in a few days, they could come in from that direction, rather than using the caves again, as she'd just done... They would probably have to use helicopters. The island was ringed with sheer cliffs; no beaches at all along their base. Fun to climb - probably more fun than the underwater caves - but not practical for an expedition, with all the equipment they'd want to bring. The water in the caves had been pretty damn cold - worse than she'd expected. She'd worn one of her silvery long-sleeved diving suits, except it was one of the flashy ones that left her legs bare, all the way up to her hip bones, and she hadn't bothered with flippers, concerned about getting them caught on the rocks if the passages had got too narrow (for that had happened to her in the past and it wasn't at all nice). She should have put on a full wetsuit instead. Including the cowl, even if it did make you look dorky. It hadn't been a long swim, or particularly deep - she could have done it without an airtank, at least now that she was sure of the route - but BRRR! Like swimming under a glacier, you'd think, not a dinky dead volcano in the tropics. Diving off her boat, the sea felt perfect, like bathwater at the ideal temperature, only then as soon as you got into the tunnel system, the water turned evil on you, in the darkness... And now that she'd made it up out of there into the brilliant sun again, she started to boil. She hadn't expected everything to be uncovered to the elements this way. It was convenient to have the surrounding artwork so perfectly illuminated, but at the same time it made this feel like standing inside a gorgeously decorated stone oven. In fact the pale floor had absorbed enough of the day's heat that it gave her bare soles trouble. She had to keep hopping and scampering around to keep them from getting scorched. It made her feel foolish. Now she was glad her swimsuit didn't cover her legs - it had dried out in moments, and then became stifling and itchy. She tried to push the sleeves up, but it clung too tight, all the fancy synthetic sci-fi fibers it was made from too thick and rubbery for that to work. And those the clinging sleeves wouldn't slide up, the lower section of the tight suit had the opposite problem. Kept riding up in the crotch real bad, and in back as well. Aggressive wedgies, front and back. Just had to keep picking them loose. Cameltoe, the kids called it. Would've been funny if it was happening to anybody else. Fucking suit had cost her a fortune. It was specifically tailored for her, and the damn shiny stuff it was stitched from was scientifically designed at great expense for robustly defending the human body against hypothermia (even if, yes, the fashionable cut of the suit left her legs completely unprotected; hi-tech practicality sacrificed to style - one was meant to put on separate, matching leggings with it, when necessary, only so far she'd never once bothered with them). A comfy and snug outfit for the lightless subterranean temple she'd expected to discover; this relentless sun transformed the garment to a chafing, suffocating instrument of torture. Well, what the hell. She was all on her own. No sense putting up with this when there was a very simple solution... She unzipped the stupid thing and took it off. Actually it wasn't quite that easy. Peeling the suit off her body proved a bit of a struggle - it stuck to her skin and fought her every inch of the way. Again, if she was watching some other silly bint go through this, she would have laughed her arse off. Experiencing the hassle herself wasn't much fun. Still, one could only persevere. In the end, she was victorious. Took a fair amount of swearing, but at last she wrestled free of it and left it on top a boulder next to the tunnel mouth. She had nothing else on underneath - it wasn't the kind of costume that would have allowed that. But hell, this wasn't the first time she'd been completely naked in the midst of an ancient ruin. It was no big deal, not in this climate. Nothing to get excited about or fret over. She had of course kept on her utility belt with her guns and her knife and some other tools on it, not that she was likely to need any of them. She was sure she was the only living creature on this entire island, except for bugs and little lizards. She was as safe and secure and private in this place as if she was standing in her own luxurious bathroom in her estate. And she was only doing this for practical considerations. Adapting operational parameters to a change in circumstances which she hadn't foreseen. There was nothing scandalous in such a decision, no nonsense to be ashamed of. There's nothing salacious in simply alleviating a discomfort, so long as doing so isn't hurting or disrupting anybody else. Surely no one would dispute that fact? There was another factor to it, weighing on her mind. The other earlier times this had happened to her - where she'd found herself, by accident or design, in a state of undress outdoors in the middle of an adventure - things had ended up getting out of hand. Other individuals had appeared out of the blue, and then things had gone bad. Those were not happy memories. Only before things had gone bad like that, they had been going very well, up to that point. Before those memories turned horrible, they had been good ones. Or they would have been good ones, if subsequent events hadn't entirely spoiled them, playing out as they had. So here was the thing: Lara wanted to create fresh memories, to make up for those other times. She wanted this to play out properly, like it should have done earlier, but hadn't. It was like she had been punished. It was like she had committed transgressions, and then had to suffer for them. And it wasn't fair that it had happened that way. In her heart, in her guts, she knew she hadn't really done anything wrong. She had been made to suffer unjustly. Biblical puritanical bullshit. And she had a duty, in fact, both in the spirit of crusading adventure, and as woman - a woman like any other, in this unjustly unbalanced existence - not to accept that. Not to be defeated by that, or hung up, or held back. No fucking sir. Lara refused to allow her mind and spirit, for the rest of her life, to associate "outdoor nudity" like this with appalling sensations of trauma and dread and guilt. She wanted it to feel good, like it had at first, those other times, before things turned against her. It had felt freeing and fun. She wanted to be able to feel those good feelings again when she did something like this. Just once, goddammit, she wanted it to happen without any screw-ups or intrusions along the way. She wasn't committing a crime out here. She wasn't breaking anybody's stupid laws. There was no reason to feel ashamed of herself, or frightened of getting caught again. All she'd done was cool her body off, because she'd started to overheat and that was no joke. Overheating and dehydrating could turn into a serious problem... you had to take care of it, in an environment like this. So fundamentally, there was nothing more to what she'd done than that. Besides of course proving that point to herself. That this could and should be perfectly okay, so long as she allowed it to be. For herself. Granted, taking all aspects into account, it wasn't a particularly wise thing to do, even if it wasn't outright wrong. Any new archaeological site is undeniably perilous. Even if there were no dangerous critters on hand, or booby-traps to contend with, an ancient place like this is always far from safe, even after it's been thoroughly surveyed. All it might take was one loose wobbly rock... Like in that movie with that hiker guy that had to cut his own arm off. That was a true story. Hell, if a boulder toppled over on top of her, or the floor suddenly gave out under her feet, having clothes on wasn't going to make a difference in how things turned out. Not even if she had a suit of armor on. Might raise some eyebrows if her remains were found in her present state, but who could say if they ever would be? And what would it matter anyhow? Besides, clothing rotted away the same as flesh. Even if she died properly outfitted, her remains wouldn't remain that way, once the elements and critters got started on them. One mustn't expect dignity in death. If it's not the very first thing to go, it's generally the second. Then just after running over all these arguments in her mind, once she got down to nitty-gritty business and took her first close look at the intricate reliefs on the surrounding temple walls, Lara had to laugh out loud. Hard to stop, once she started. A real hysterical giggle-fit. The irony was just delightful. Ideal, in fact. You see, all the carvings in this place, everywhere she looked, every room she explored, turned out to be erotic in nature. And extremely explicit. Graphic, pornographic depictions of sexual acts. Hundreds of figures, large and small. Rows and rows, layers and layers. Everybody screwing, every which way. Every combination you might imagine. Without realizing, she'd swum into a long lost secret sex temple. And soon as she'd arrived, she'd got naked. Ha. She hadn't wanted it - her state of undress - to be about that, not at all. She didn't want that sort of thing to be on her mind. Her nudity should have been completely irrelevant to the work at hand. She hadn't got undressed for a kinky thrill. She hadn't meant for kinkiness of any degree to have anything to do with this survey. She had just wanted to be comfortable, as she poked and prowled around, because of the heat. Relaxed and no nonsense, in the sun. Like the Garden of Eden before the apples. She wanted to stay unselfconscious about it. She wanted to prove to herself she could be. Innocent, clean, comfortable nakedness. What was the word? The "before the fall" idea... Prelapsarian? That didn't sound quite right. Or even if that was a real term, possibly it referred to something else. Shit. She'd have to look it up on her laptop, when she went back to her boat. If she remembered. If she could figure out the proper spelling. Fate is fickle, and Fortune is a bitch. The temple turns out to be a sex temple. Isn't that wonderfully apt? It most certainly was. Everywhere she looks, she sees explicit depictions of fucking. And thus it's completely impossible not to think about sex, and to put her own nudity out of her mind. Not for a moment, oh no. No chance. Makes it shamefully inappropriate, as a scientist, that she should be undressed while she's exploring this place - and yet somehow, paradoxically, it also feels entirely appropriate, doesn't it? Yes it does. Poetic, even. Her perspective is compromised. It's impossible for her to study the reliefs in anything close to a properly objective state of mind. It's impossible not to be aware of how damn silly and deluded she must look, trying to do so. It's impossible not to become embarrassed, and aroused, as well. Exactly as this ancient artwork intends, and exactly counter to her initial wishes and resolutions. No doubt the long-dead artists who carved all these reliefs would be pleased, and proud of themselves. This little adventure wasn't meant to acquire an erotic flavor, but now it has, and there's no denying that fact, there's no escaping it. This trip has turned into a daft sex joke, and the joke once again appears to be on her. It didn't drive her out of her mind. Let's not overstate the matter. She'd got turned on, sure, but only to a degree. Just a little. She didn't find herself uncontrollably overwhelmed with lust, with a frenzied compulsion to masturbate... Mostly she just felt awkward. Self-conscious, skittish. And like she had to pee, but then couldn't, the couple times she tried, in a corner behind a pillar. She couldn't squeeze anything out. But the feeling wouldn't go away. Her nipples tingled, and also ached, the way they sometimes did, when they were stiff for too long. Like they were sticking out too far, overextending themselves. A sense of strain. She had to keep rubbing them a little, just to ease them. It wasn't something she got off on, playing with her own tits. It wasn't any kind of huge rush. But it helped to press on them and rub them a little like that, when they got achy. It soothed them. She was glad nobody else was around, so she could take care of it without having to think about it, without it becoming in issue. It was the kind of thing you couldn't ever let yourself do in public or people got the wrong idea and freaked out. She wondered if she would have to masturbate after she swam back to her boat. She didn't feel a strong urge now, but it was probable she would want to later on, if her arousal persisted that long. Sustained arousal often tended to increase her excitement level, the longer it lasted - the mere fact of its continuance. That might sound a bit ridiculous, but it was what happened. Like: "Wow, I'm still turned on!" The persistence of her arousal would itself become arousing. "Can't I control myself?" Hopefully the chilly cave water would calm her system down enough she wouldn't reach that point. Wouldn't feel the need anymore, once she was back aboard her boat. But she wondered, if she did end up doing it, later on at night if not right away - the feelings might come back, at bedtime - if she would think about some of the images in the reliefs, as she was performing the deed... Or rather, to be more honest, not if but which of them she would think about. Which one - or which ones - would her imagination zero-in on? A few of them had popped out at her more than most - figuratively, that is. There was a lengthy, elaborate series with lion-headed men and bullheaded men, like minotaurs. She wasn't sure if they were supposed to be gods or monsters or just men in helmets. They were having a war, along the tops of the walls, up where it was harder to see them - clobbering each other with clubs and axes. But then in the lower levels, the armies stopped fighting and started fucking each other. Then women got involved toward the bottom rows. An army of women on horseback, with spears and bows. They took all the lionmen and minotaurs captive and led them away in chains... but then they fucked them all, or made them fuck each other while they watched, but still all in their chains. Lara decided she'd seen enough for one day. She'd intended to spend most the day here; now she didn't feel up to that commitment anymore. There was too much to see, and it was too embarrassing and overwhelming, and too damn hot, worst of all. Not in the sexy-sense - the actual temperature, was what she meant. The sun just got worse and worse, harder and harder to put up with. Her canteen didn't have much left in it. One more swallow, no more. Maybe she'd come back in the evening. She was looking forward to the chill of the caves now. Even without her suit on, at this point she was still much, much too warm. Cooking like a pot roast, literally. So much sweat was dripping off her she noticed she was leaving trails of dark splotches on the floor behind her, wherever she walked. She wouldn't have been surprised if she started leaving footprints of sweat as well, but no, she wasn't. This fucking stone floor was burning too damn hot for that. Made the bottoms of her feet the only remaining dry surface of her body, it seemed. Probably turned her calluses a crispy black. Crap. No, actually the soles of her feet looked fine, when she checked. Just a little pinker than usual, maybe. They hadn't even got very dirty, like she thought they would. The flagstones weren't very dusty. Frequent rainstorms in this part of the world must keep the floors fairly clean. Surprising not to see more erosion on the walls. There was some, but not as much as you'd expect. Were the carvings protected somehow, some sort of coating? Must be. They seemed to have a shiny, glassy sheen. When she touched them, they felt more like plastic than stone. Curious. Still considering that question when she walked back to the boulder where she'd left her suit, she found it wasn't there anymore. And it wasn't on the floor around the boulder anywhere, like it simply slipped off. Could it have fallen down the hole into the caves? Blown by wind or something? No, too far. And there was no wind at all. Her suit had vanished altogether. No. Somebody had taken it. Simple as that. Well, fuck. Lara drew her guns. Her airtank was still there. Perhaps she should have just put it on, dived down the hole and gone. Cold as the tunnels were, the swim wouldn't kill her. Well, at least the odds were decent that it wouldn't, if she didn't take too long down there. But she didn't split. Would have felt cowardly. And she needed to know who had followed her. And if they were still here in the complex. They might have sabotaged her boat, or been waiting for her on board. Not likely, though - why would they have advertised their presence ahead of time, if they meant to ambush her? Or were they just trying to mess with her head? If that was their hope, it was working. Slowly, carefully, she searched through whole temple. No sign of anyone, nowhere in any of the chambers. She might have thought a bird had grabbed her suit, or a goddamn monkey, if this island had any fucking birds or goddamn monkeys. She'd spotted nothing but tiny lizards and beetles. Then as she was making her way back around to the tunnel, she realized she was crossing a room she hadn't been in before. She would have sworn she'd been through the entire complex three times by that stage - it was big but not terribly big - only somehow she had missed this chamber. Had someone opened a hidden door, while she was elsewhere? Seemed the only sensible explanation, though she was surprised she hadn't heard the mechanism. Ancient, dusty, ponderous stone portals tended to make quite a ruckus, when they shifted. The carvings on these walls depicted women copulating with serpents in the branches of trees. Possibly both the women and the serpents were copulating with the trees as well, somehow. The trees had grinning faces on their trunks. The room was narrower than the rest of the chambers, more of a corridor than a room. And it curved twice in front of her, an S shape. Fitting with the serpent motif. When Lara went around the second bend, there was another woman in her path, with her back to her. But she heard Lara approaching and turned. Giving her a thoughtful, questioning look. And Lara saw she was holding the swimsuit. She was also holding a large but crude-looking stone knife, picking at the fabric of Lara's suit with the tip of the blade. "What is this made of?" she asked, whoever she was. She was a white girl, with wild hair and a snub-nosed, freckled face, a little younger than Lara, and very thin. At first Lara thought she was wearing a bikini, but at second glance, she realized that wasn't quite right. It was a bikini, but not an ordinary swimsuit. It was fashioned from furry animal skins. The bottoms were a loincloth, rather than panties - two flaps hanging loose front and back on a thin cord, leaving her hips completely exposed. The top only had one shoulder strap, on the left side. The girl also had a necklace of sharp animal teeth, and a matching arm bracelet on her bicep of slightly smaller teeth, as well as couple white feathers dangling off it. She also had another larger feather dangling upside down from a hook through one earlobe. Her feet were bare, but she had shiny rings on some of her toes, and anklets of colorful beads and tiny seashells. The sheath for her knife was strapped to her thigh. She had two other knives, slightly smaller - one on her opposite calf, and the other on the inside of her forearm. Lara Croft vs. Jungle Girl "Who the fuck are you?" Lara Croft demanded, with both her guns in the girl's face. "I am the protector of this place," the girl replied, serenely, "My name is Jace." "How did you get here? How long have you been watching me?" "Only a short time. I would appreciate it if you would lower your weapons." "I'll take that under advisement. First, where the fuck did you pop up from? The caves? But you're not wet." She didn't look sweaty, either. Not like Lara herself was, greasy and glistening from top to toe and dripping all over the place. "No, I didn't swim," the girl said, "I didn't have to come that way. I used the door." "What door? Where is there a door?" "The next chamber, that direction. But you won't be able to see it, Lara Croft, or make use of it. It's not for you. I'm sorry. I know this will confuse you. It's only made for me." "How do you know my name? Who sent you?" "They have no names. Or if they do, they've never told them to me. But they are great and potent powers, I promise you that. I don't expect you will take my word for it, though. They are not the sort of beings a person like you is prepared to believe in, Tomb Raider. You would not dare to raid tombs, if you did." "Bullshit," Lara said. "Bullshit and buggery. Hey now, quit picking at my suit like that. You'll get holes in it. You're gonna ruin it." "It doesn't cut easily. What manner of cloth is this?" Strictly speaking, it probably wasn't cloth at all. Lara had long ago ripped out the tag, but she doubted reading it would have made either of them any wiser. Bunch of gobbledegook made from petroleum products, no doubt. "It's synthetic," she said. "I do not know what that means." "Are you kidding me?" She shrugged. "I am not of your time." Lara didn't take this seriously, not for one second. Her idea was, the girl was some spoiled American rich kid screwing around during her summer vacation, playing dress up. Possibly she had mental problems; more likely she was only fucking around. She looked too clean and, slim as she was, much too well fed, even so. Sleek and svelte, not emaciated. And toned, like an athlete. A runner's body, maybe, or a gymnast. "You're supposed to be some kind of... what? Like Tarzan-ette? A Jungle Girl?" Jace nodded. "I am the Jungle Girl." Lara snorted, although in a funny way she found it admirable that the girl could spout a cheesedick line like that with such complete conviction. "Explain something to me. If you're a Jungle Girl - meaning I assume you live all the time in a jungle, like an animal - then how come your legs are perfectly shaved? Your armpits too, I noticed." Jace shrugged. "Because I shave them, of course." "With your stone knife? Truly? Well, you must have one hell of a steady hand. I wonder why you go to the trouble, though. If you're by yourself in the jungle. I don't know if I would bother, if it was me in your shoes. Not that you wear shoes... Who are you doing it for? I mean, who taught you that you were supposed to do that, if you were raised by animals or primitive natives of some sort?" "I was not. I was taken up and trained in my childhood, by the powers I spoke of before. They chose me and shaped me for this duty, as they thought fit. Taught me all I know. It was a great honor." "Uh huh. All right. It's just this is the thing about you Jungle Girls that always bothered me. Doesn't make sense. And don't you have trouble with bug bites and rashes and things like that? How do you stay so clean? I think I'd get pretty grubby and stinky pretty quick, if I became a Jungle Girl. I get pretty grubby and smelly in the course of just one ordinary day. The hardest part for me about having to live in the wild would be trying to wash my hair and keep it nice without shampoo and conditioner every morning. I guess you just get used to the greasy feeling, after a while, and it stops bothering you. But maybe you don't have that trouble. Your hair doesn't look bad at all. It looks great, in fact. How do you manage it? What's your secret?" Jace frowned, but she didn't get upset. She only looked puzzled. "Why are you attempting to ridicule me?" she asked. "Why did you come to this place?" "Exploration." She seemed to not recognize the word. Lara tried again, simplifying. "Discovery. Science. To learn." "Ah," said the Jungle Girl, although Lara suspected she still wasn't getting the idea. Or if she was, she didn't believe it. "This is a sacred place. You must have realized. One such as you is not welcome here, Lara Croft. You are trespassing." "What about you?" "I was summoned." "Were you? By who, might I ask?" "Who else? The spirits in this temple." "Ah, of course. Silly of me." "I owe them a debt. For they gave me aid, in a time of great peril." "These are the great and potent powers that chose you and trained you and stuff?" "No. The spirits of this place are different. Different kinds of beings. But they are closely allied to the powers I serve. And, in turn, to me." "You live here, alone? Guarding this place? Is that what you're claiming?" "No, not at all. There is no jungle on this island. I live in a great forest, very far away. But this is my calling. I go where I am needed. Today you brought me here. I am charged with the protection of this place, and many other sacred places." "Like where? Give me some other examples." "You would not know the names. They remain secure, as yet, and secret. Safely hidden across this world, and many others." "Many other worlds, did you just say?" "I did." "All right. If you say so. Are they all places like this one? Related? From the same civilization, I mean. If that term make any sense to you." "No. You misunderstand. Many different peoples - many different kinds of places. But all lost to time. Almost forgotten. I am their only link now. There's no one else to look after them. No one else knows or even cares." "Gosh. That's an interesting story, Miss Jace. I'll give you that." "Just Jace. Just call me Jace." "Why did you steal my swimsuit, Jace?" "I did not intend to steal this garment from you. It seemed you had discarded it. I picked it up because I was curious, because it is so strangely shiny in the sunlight." "I only took it off and set is aside temporarily because it got too hot here to keep wearing it." "It was the proper thing for you to do, even if you did not do so knowingly. But yes, it is always very warm in this place. They constructed it to be so. To gather the light and the heat of the day, as much as they could. The bright sun and the heat were essential for their rituals." "Fascinating. Give my suit back now, if you please." "As you wish." Jace handed it over, and Lara began to pull it back on. It was bone dry, at this point, and stiffened with salt and sand, making it as much a crummy ordeal to clamber into it as it had been to remove. No help for that, under the circumstances. "Why are you doing that?" the girl asked, "You said the costume was too hot. And did I not just inform you, it is not respectful. For you to be garbed in this place." "That particular consideration means nothing to me, Jungle Girl." "Regardless if it does not, will the garment not make you too hot again?" "I imagine it will, admittedly. And that's a shame." "You don't want to wear it, yet now you feel you must. Because of my presence? Yes, I see now. The nudity taboo of your era. You are ashamed to have been discovered and observed here without clothing on. And also because you had become aroused, undoubtedly. That heightens your shame." And then the Jungle Girl threw back her head and laughed. It was rather laughable, wasn't it? When one put it plain like that. The funniest part - and the painfulest - being that it was absolutely true. "It is the magic of this place, Tomb Raider," pronounced the Jungle Girl, "You are surprised that it affected you? You were unprepared? You feel the feelings this place was expressly built to initiate." "You're making more of it than there is," Lara replied, "It's a simple question of personal privacy, more than anything else. That's why I chose to put this damn suit back on. That reason alone." Lara was rather pleased with the offhand conviction in her voice when she delivered these statements. "I suppose it's unfair to expect a Jungle Girl to have any appreciation of such a view. A woman's body is her own. I decide how much of it others are permitted to see. No one else. It was unseemly for you to come upon me unawares, whether or not you realized it - let alone touching any of my things, without announcing your presence and asking permission. It was disrespectful and outright offensive. You should apologize." Jace's mocking, playful grin was replaced with a stern frown. "You are quick to take umbrage, yet refuse to acknowledge your own wrongdoing? It's not your state of undress or passion that should have embarrassed you - as I keep trying to make clear to you, both those things are appropriate for entering this place. But all the same, you were not invited and you are not welcome, Lara Croft. This place is kept hidden because that was the will of its inhabitants. You have violated their sanctum. It is the fact you have committed that act of trespass that you should feel ashamed of. Your crime shall not be overlooked. Recompense must be made. I've been summoned to ensure it is paid in full." "I have no reason at all to feel embarrassment on that score. I don't consider coming here on a scientific survey to be an act of trespass. It's both unjust and patently absurd for you to call it that." "Not for you to say, Tomb Raider. That is for the builders to judge. And they have." "The builders are long dead, Miss Jace. My visit doesn't trouble them." "I do not dispute the first point. You are entirely wrong about the second." "So you're saying I've angered a bunch of ghosts?" "Exactly, Lara Croft. Now they must be appeased. Or you will not be permitted to leave this place alive." "Who do you imagine is going to stop me from doing that, Miss Jace?" "I have already said. I was summoned here to confront you for that very purpose." "Of course you were. Pardon me, though - I have to say, they should have sent me somebody a bit bigger. I don't believe you're up to this job." "You will discover yourself mistaken in that assertion, should the pair of us put the question to test." "I'm game, if you insist on it. But just allow me to make sure of one last point - did you happen to notice I've got these two guns here in my hands? While all you seem to have on you are some knives." "Knives are all I need. In fact for the task of subduing you, perhaps I might not even need them." "Look, do you actually know what guns are? Do you understand how they work? Before you said that shit about this not being your time period. Maybe you've never had to deal with guns until now." "I know about guns. I don't like them, but I know about them." "I don't care for them much myself." (Except, in fairness, for the times when she did.) "You must make a choice, Lara Croft. You have two alternatives, to set things right." "Besides just shooting you right now where you stand? Or were you already including that among my options?" "I was not. I do not deny the option exists... It will not exonerate you, however. You cannot appease the spirits by doing that." "And I should give half a shit what they think because...?" "Because it would not be wise to ignore them and anger them any further than you already have. Your guns give you a chance of slaying me, I admit. They won't do you any good at all against the likes of them, should they decide to take direct action." "Why bother sending you then, if they're so fucking mighty and unstoppable all by themselves?" "An act of charity. To give you a fair chance at earning a reprieve. They can strike you down, but they can't speak to you. Can't tell you what they want. I must speak for them. Will you listen to your alternatives now?" Lara shrugged. "I suppose at this stage I don't mind hearing you out further, just for the interest of the thing. Frankly, you've managed to fire up my curiosity almost as much as you've fired up my temper. So go on. Lay out my other options, Jungle Girl, as you see them. This should be rich. I'm all ears." Jace nodded and then made a funny gesture over her shoulder. The wall behind her swung smoothly away, revealing yet another chamber Lara hadn't seen before, larger than all the others in the complex. And as far as she'd thought she understood the layout of the temple, there shouldn't have been room for that room - other chambers should have occupied that space. They had been replaced, or else slid out of the way somehow. Extraordinary engineering... unless it was all done with magic. Lara couldn't quite decide if the use of actual working magic would make the feat more impressive, or less. In the center of this new chamber, a great white statue of a human hand, palm up to the sky. Big as a dining room table. Or, well, a bed. Big enough for a figure to lay down on, in any case. A sacrifice, perhaps. The first image that popped into one's mind, inevitably. Some virgin in a white robe, tied down and spread-eagle for the high priest's knife... and so forth. At least the hand showed no bloodstains. "An altar?" Lara demanded. "Of a kind," said Jace. "I'm guessing you expect me to climb up on there." "That is what you must do, to satisfy the spirits of this temple. First you must divest yourself once again of your shiny garment." "Funny, you don't surprise me in the least. Then what?" "Nothing very difficult. All that is required is that you pleasure yourself." "Jerk off, you mean." "You must bring yourself to a climax. Take as long as you need, there is no hurry. Use whatever techniques you prefer. You must complete the act, however. Do not attempt to deceive the spirits." "No faking." "No faking," echoed Jace, with a nod. "Your offering must be genuine." "Your pervert spirits want to watch me orgasm. That's supposed to earn me atonement?" "Exactly." "I thought I committed some great sacrilege. Frigging myself off hardly seems like much of a religious punishment. What's the catch?" "No catch. The spirits have little desire to see you suffer. This temple was built in celebration of pleasure." "Celebration of fucking, more like. Let's call a spade a spade." "If you prefer. Sexual pleasure is what they treasure. It embodies them, and feeds them. All who enter this place must pay their fair share. You must make an offering of your body's greatest delight." "Greatest in their eyes, perhaps. Don't know if I can say the same. Fucking is nice, don't get me wrong. But there's much more to life, you know. There are significantly deeper satisfactions to be achieved. One just has to get off one's arse and go looking for them. Be amazed what you might discover." Jace shrugged. "The builders do not see things that way." "No, they wouldn't, I suppose." "Will you do this, then? Will you agree?" There was a moment she almost semi-seriously considered going along with it. Like, what the heck, why not? Wouldn't take long... She was horny, anyhow, if we're gonna be perfectly honest... She'd probably enjoy herself... Well, in fact she would have to, wouldn't she? To complete the arrangement properly. Then again, could she actually manage to reach an orgasm, in circumstances like these? A bit too much pressure, no matter how turned on she might already be. Especially with this crazy girl watching her the whole time, let alone a bunch of mysterious spirits, if they even existed outside the Jungle Girl's fevered imagination. Jace was probably just some mad lesbian. Concocted this whole business to get herself off. Most likely, this was all a sicko power game she'd dreamed up, to see how many humiliating hoops she could trick or bully Lara into jumping through. And say after all she shrugged and went ahead and did this, and it worked out all right. Imagine she got herself off just fine, no trouble along the way... Could she really live with that, afterwards? Not without feeling deeply guilty and exploited and ashamed of herself. Whether Jace's vengeful spirits were real or imaginary, it almost didn't matter. It would be equally degrading, either way. Letting herself be bossed around like this, and made a fool of. Forced to perform in this sex temple like a savage heathen primitive, or a circus animal. Or, to be blunt, like a prostitute. They wanted to humiliate her, for their entertainment and satisfaction. Expected her to make a twisted holy offering of her nudity and her pleasure - but those things were hers, by God. Private personal sacred treasures. She wasn't offering them up willingly to any fucking pervert sex-spirits or a lesbo Jungle Bitch. Not today. Certainly not just 'cause they thought they could force her to. "What if I won't do it?" said Lara, "And setting aside killing you and walking away... What's my last option, then?" "You will be whipped," Jace answered. "Oh yeah? Just like that? And who is gonna handle that?" "I shall, if need be." And now she was holding a long, slightly bent wooden rod in her hands. It had just appeared in her hands, it seemed. If she'd picked it up from somewhere, the girl had moved too fast for Lara to notice. Perhaps in that moment while Lara had been distracted - and slightly overawed, in spite of herself - by the revelation of the altar, and the massive room containing it that shouldn't exist. "You just told me the spirits didn't want to make me suffer. Not interested in that sort of thing." "They are not. But if you will not offer them submission, I will have to take it from you. If you will not make a gift of your pleasure, they will have your pain in its place. And your shame, as well. Your shame will give it spice, I think." Lara realized she was blushing. The girl, dammit, had made her blush, when she said that last bit... and with what she said next... "Either way, I suspect," Jace continued, "the spirits will have your shame. Is that not so? It will shame you as much to yield up your pleasure for them with your own hand as it would to be beaten, by my hand. Perhaps more. Yet this is as it should be. Whichever you choose, remember, it is meant to be a punishment. Attrition." Lara felt a chill and shuddered, a little. Then took a breath and cleared her throat, reasserting her stance. "Silly girl. This conversation has been terribly diverting. But there will be no punishment of any sort today," said the bold and infamous Tomb Raider, brandishing her pistols. "Not while I've got these bad boys. Not for me, anyhow. Now listen carefully - I'm only going to give you this one chance, then I dare say I'll have to blow off one of your kneecaps, at the very least. Don't test my resolve, all right? You won't enjoy the results. First off, put down that stick of yours, very slowly and gently, and then when that's done, be so good as remove all your fun little knives and set them down on the floor as well." "You have made your choice, then," said Jace, as she bent to obey. "So I have," said Lara Croft. Then Jace leapt at her, like a panther. Lara thought she was good and ready for a trick like that. Fired off four or five shots. Didn't seem to hit anything. Fucking girl was just too damn fast. Pulled off some crazy ludicrous midair flipping kick thing. Struck both Lara's guns out of her hands, and knocked her flat on her arse. Not a proud moment. They had themselves quite a throwdown. Tumbled each other back and forth all around the chamber, literally bouncing off the goddamn walls. There wasn't much art to it. No grace or technique. It got dirty, pretty quick, too. Hair-pulling, knees in crotches, nipple twists. Somehow Jace's knives never came into it. Lara never knew if the Jungle Girl decided not to use them, thinking it unfair, or if she just happened to unluckily lose them all from their sheaths in the early moments of their combat, from all the rolling around and jostling they did. Lara Croft vs. Jungle Girl Jace lost that skimpy top of hers. Lara ripped it off her chest more of less on accident. Or so she told herself later on, looking back... A minute or so afterward, she eventually succeeded in tying the Jungle Girl's hands with the thing, behind her back. Pretty humiliating for her - letting herself get bound with her own bra. Made Lara crow in triumph. Jace didn't take it well, this turn of events. Started bawling, believe it or not. Squealed and sputtered like a schoolgirl, red in the face as a strawberry. "You can't do this to me! You can't!" Lara was just about convinced she was gonna win at that stage. Right on the brink of victory. Her opponent was falling to pieces... The Jungle Girl didn't quit, though. She never stopped her childish high-pitched fussing and wailing and gibbering, but never stopped fighting either. And finally got her sleek brown thighs clamped around Lara's neck. Lara couldn't shake her loose. It sucked. Bitch finally choked her out. She tried the trick of playing dead, to get Jace to ease off. The Jungle Girl didn't fall for that, goddammit. Kept up the squeeze. Lara clawed at the girl's ass, digging in her fingernails, drawing blood. Made Jace scream some more, but it also made her squeeze those legs of hers even harder. Thin as they were, it was like they were made of wood. Bitch had real muscles on her. Should have tried out for the Olympics. Like for pole vaulting, probably. Now the whole world started wavering and dimming... a thunderous roar in her ears drowned out Jace's endless caterwhauling. "Don't you pass out," Lara commanded herself, "Don't you fucking dare pass out." Only then she must have. 'Cause next thing she knew... The altar - the big white hand - was moving. Like when the wall opened up, it seemed to do that by itself. The spirits... well, maybe. Lara still wasn't entirely convinced, as she watched, dazed and dizzy. Both times, could have been something as a simple as levers built into the floor. Little buttons Jace was stepping on, to activate. Just doing it when Lara wasn't looking at her, so it seemed like magic. Classic hocus pocus. Anyhow, however it was done, the white hand got tilted straight upward now, and its fingers had split into a wide v, two and two - like Spock's salute, yeah, live long and fucking prosper. But the thumb didn't stick out the side anymore. It had swung around and curved upward, a bit. So that now Lara would have to straddle it. Because of the position she ended up bound in... You see, Jace tied her upright to the stone hand, facing the palm, with her arms over her head. Her wrists were looped around the statue's fingertips. With those thick fingers divided as they were, her arms got stretched out diagonally. The space in the middle of the v was wide enough that her torso remained completely exposed. Her tits weren't squished against the stone; they dangled free in the open air. Which was just great, oh yeah. Also, Jace could walk around to that side and look her in the face, when she wanted. Lara would rather not have to look at the girl anymore, at this point. Would rather have stone in front of her nose - a blank surface to zone out on, as much as possible. But that wasn't how this was gonna go, and she wouldn't close her eyes or look down like a coward, when Jace came around and gave her the stink-eye like that. She grit her teeth and met the Jungle Girl's disdainful inspection with as much fiery defiance as she could muster. Tough to do, of course. It would only get harder as things progressed. Jace had got her top back on. The thick stone thumb jutting between Lara's legs wasn't actually touching her crotch. It reached up damn close, but she still had a tiny bit of breathing space down there, thank Christ. Only a literal hairsbreadth. That wouldn't have been the case if she was standing flat on her feet. She wasn't. Jace, whether she meant to or not, had made the loops around Lara's wrists too high and tight for that, keeping her suspended on her toes. Well, the balls of her feet. She wasn't ballet dancing, here, it wasn't as bad as that. But both her heels were off the ground. If she weren't held up like that, she'd have been sitting on the thumb like it was a saddle. Not comfortable. Not without any clothes on. Her bare slick snatch would be squishing itself open against that smooth, rounded stone, which had got baking hot under the sun; the other fingers were hot the same way against the undersides of her forearms. Feeling the heat there on the skin of her arms wasn't too bad. It wasn't comfortable but it wasn't broiling her. Still, she definitely didn't want to experience that same heat and pressure on her genitalia. A whole different deal, that would be. She'd bet money. Oh God. When she glanced down there, she saw spots. Dark speckles on the shiny white surface of the thumb. Spots of moisture that had dripped from her body, on to the stone. She tried to convince herself it was only sweat. Maybe that was all it was. God knows there was plenty of sweat dribbling off her, all over. Her pores pumping out more and more every moment. But the dark spots on the thumb were right there lined up directly under her gash. Might have been something else dribbling there, leaking straight down. Considering her situation. And everything it was doing to her. Everything it was making her feel. Tied for punishment. Spread-eagled and stripped utterly bare. Jace had used one of her nasty jagged knives to slash away Lara's swimsuit, after she'd got her tied like this, and helpless. So that was the end of the thing. Wouldn't be able to put it back on once this nonsense was finished. She'd have to swim back to her boat naked. Tried to convince herself that wasn't a big deal. That it didn't matter, not anymore. She had dozens of other nice swimsuits, and hadn't ended up liking that one much in any case, had she? Damn fancy thing had cost a ton of money, though. That irked. Fuck it. She had plenty of fucking money. She'd always have plenty of money, no matter how many overpriced silly swimsuits she might have to buy in her life... Now Jace the Jungle Girl picked up that bendy wooden rod she'd showed off earlier. She swung it around in the air a few times, making swooshy noises. Lara wished the sounds didn't make her flinch, but they did. Felt her belly churning. Bad. Really bad. She might barf, in fact. She might have diarrhea. Wouldn't that be something. Well, if things went that far south, hopefully she'd get some of the mess on the Jungle Girl... Try her best, anyway, once the storm hit. If that happened, if there was nothing else she could do to get back at the bitch, might as well put the opportunity to use. It shouldn't have come to this, though. She shouldn't have let the girl put her in this position. Damn near made her feel like she genuinely deserved this beating, since she turned out too weak and too stupid to prevent it. Gonna have to take her medicine. Choke it fucking down. Oh God. Oh hell. Just hoped she didn't cry. She hoped she had the strength to put up with the pain. Didn't know if she did. Yelling was permissible, but only so long as she made sure they were all tough yells. Angry fuck-you-bitch yells, every single one. No pussy pleading or lamentations. Show no sorrow, admit no shame. Rage alone. That was all she'd let Jace see, or hear from her. Swearing a lot was the principal answer. That would get her through this, if nothing else. Every evil curse word she could think of. Then at last it started... The Jungle Girl whipped Lara's naked ass. "Ahhahhrr! God! God damn!" No escape. No reprieve. She writhed. She wriggled. She wept. Couldn't help it. "Guuhhuuhh! Fuck! Fucking hell!" And yet, as it continued... Jace surprised her again. Bad as this was, Lara could still tell it wasn't feeling as bad as it should. The Jungle Girl - so fucking far, anyway - seemed to be going pretty easy on her, all things considered. Much easier than Lara would have expected, after their tussle. Much easier than Lara would have done this, if things were reversed... A rod like that can do serious damage, if you apply a little elbow grease. Lasting damage. Somebody really goes to town on you with a stick like that, and you'll never sit comfortably for the rest of your life. That wasn't how this was. The Jungle Girl didn't apply it like that. She was very careful, very controlled. Never established a steady rhythm, either, or let the stimulation build up too much. Always gave Lara a good breather, between every three or four cracks. Never lashed the same spot more than once. Lightweight strikes, every time. Mere kisses, mostly. Oh, they stung. They burned. But they didn't slash her open, like they could have. A rod like that can flay all the skin off your back. A rod like that can even shatter bones. Jace was only tickling her with it, relatively speaking. Didn't she realize? Of course she did. Lara figured it out, after another minute. Once she started to feel it the way Jace wanted her to. It all became horribly clear, all at once. "Ahhagghhaah! Shit! Shit! Ohhhoohhh..." (Wait, wait... What is this? Am I...? But... but this feels... Oh no.) "Guuhrrh! God!" (Not this. Not like this. Not this way. No. Please, please, no.) There's whipping, and then there's whipping... You keep things under a certain threshold, the feeling changes... Easier to make happen with a simple over-the-knee spanking. Greater payoff, though, with the far greater danger imposed with the use of ropes and a rod or whip. The pain doesn't go away, but it starts to feel good. It turns sexy, even if you don't want it to. It doesn't really ever turn into pleasure, but you start to like the pain. You like it better and better the more it goes on, even though it keeps hurting too, worse and worse. You get more and more excited. It's your system compensating. Maybe your body does it trying to defend itself. Maybe your nerves just get confused, or overloaded. Crossed wires, in your brain. A lot of it is mental, of course, and emotional. Most of it. The embarrassment you're experiencing. The fear. The sheer bafflement... It all feeds together, builds and builds... Doesn't happen like this for everybody. And of course it depends hugely who exactly is doing this to you, and how you feel about that person, and how hard they're doing it. You don't always have to like the other person, though... Or at least, you don't have to know that you like them, or you might not like that you like them... But they still turn out to have this power to get to you, this way. If they don't get too carried away as it goes along, and get too rough, and make it ugly again and mess it up. Jace didn't. The wicked merciless bitch. Not everyone is susceptible to this. It's more people than realize, though. Lots more. The toughest, most commanding people too. Most protective of their dignity. It's heady stuff, having that stripped from them, having the tables completely turned on them. Of course, most of the people that would get off on it the strongest, they make damn sure it never happens to them. You can't blame them. Much too scary. Much too embarrassing. The burn inside Lara's cunt now... God. Oh God. Jace's rod had, by now, set her arse aflame - and because the Jungle Girl stoked those flames with care and patience, only tickling her with the rod that could have mutilated and crippled her, the fire had gradually spread into Lara's sex, but in there, the burning was pleasurable for her. Lara didn't want it to be, yet it was... And that unwanted pleasure had spread from her womb, back into her bottom, down through her legs to the straining arches of her feet, and upward through her writhing spine and her bouncing breasts... Now each time she took another strike from the rod, wherever it landed upon her body, the impact triggered more pleasure. It was pleasure that hurt, pleasure that stung - pleasure that was agonizing and shameful. But soon she knew it would make her come. The spirits of this temple were going to witness an orgasm from her, after all. She would not be able to keep it from them. She didn't mean to do it - and would have stopped herself if she retained any rational control over her muscles - yet she kept flexing her knees and straining downward against the ropes on her wrists, with all her strength... not trying to tear herself loose, but only doing it in a desperate effort to mash her cunt against the giant stone thumb beneath her crotch, just barely out of reach. If she'd been able to achieve contact with that unyielding, scorching hot surface, she knew she would climax on the instant. And it would have been a spectacular one. She knew she wasn't going to be allowed to do it that way. Now that she'd been compelled to want it, they would make sure she wouldn't get it. Not like that. They would draw her punishment out as long as possible. They wouldn't let her finish until she broke down even further and begged them for it, out loud. She mustn't, though. She mustn't give them that on top of all the rest. She must hold out! Hold out! Jace's arm would tire out eventually, right? Or her patience would run out soon, if her strength and stamina didn't... 'Cause you could tell from the look on her face, the Jungle Girl was just about as desperate to come now as Lara was. She taken off her top again, a couple minutes ago. Now she took a moment to unknot her loincloth, as well. Let it slip to her ankles and kicked it away. Clutched her mound with her free hand, and then heaved a great giddy sigh as she squeezed it... Yup, she was losing her cool, most assuredly. She glared at Lara with clenched teeth and flared nostrils, eyes blazing. Lara glared right back, probably with same exact furious, frenzied expression. She realized they were both gasping equally loud, and in perfect sync. Huhhuh Huhhuh Huhhuh Huhhuh... "Give it up," Jace said. Lara shook her head. "Go to hell." Jace struck her across the breasts this time. And then again, from the other direction. And again. And again. Bolts of lightning, through her nipples, through her heart. She screeched, and then she moaned, and then she whimpered. They weren't the angry, wrathful, undefeated noises she had resolved to make, but pathetic, beseeching sounds, vocalizations of despair, and of wanton need... The rod made livid purple stripes across her tits, but still didn't break her skin. There was no blood. Lara had left those clawmarks in the Jungle Girl's hiney earlier, with her nails, but Jace hadn't yet made her bleed at all. Too damn good at this game. Made you wonder what else she was good at, and how good she'd be at those things. Lara wasn't gonna win this one. From the moment she'd got tied, there was only one way this bullshit could ever end. Resisted as long as she could, but it was pointless. Surrender was inevitable. Time to bite the proverbial bullet. God, this was gonna suck. She was so horny, though. Teetering right on the brink. God she wanted to come. She was so damn close... May as well get this over with. "Please," she said, "P-p-please." "What?" said the Jungle Girl, and lashed her again. Behind her now, another strike to the arse. Oh, sweet Christ! So terrible! So hot! "Finish it!" she cried, "Just finish it! Just... Please!" "Please what? Say it all, trespasser. You must ask for all of it. Say it all now." "Please! Please let me - Oh God! God! I can't! I can't say it! Don't make me! It's too shameful! Please don't!" "You must, Lara! Give in!" "I don't deserve this! I'm Lara Croft! An archaeologist! You've no right to humiliate me this way!" "I've every right. You brought this shame upon yourself, Tomb Raider! Confess!" "Just... just let me come! Let me fucking come now! Take what you want from me! Make me come! Please! I give up!" "You must apologize, first." "I did nothing wrong!" "Then why are you so ashamed?" "Because I'm naked! You beat me and made me beg you... to come... You made me want this, you made me wanna come... I have to! I can't stand anymore! Oh God! I'm burning inside! I'm burning all over! My poor arse! My tits! My cunt! Oh please! Just finish this! Finish me!" "Apologize, Tomb Raider." "I'm sorry! I'm fucking sorry!" So unfair. No help for it. Had to give them everything they demanded. This wouldn't finish until she did. "I trespassed and I was disrespectful and I'm sorry and now I've taken my punishment! You've got my submission! I'm submitting! I'm naked and beaten and I'm desperate to get off and I'm submitting! Please, Jace! Jace, just... Please!" "Very good, Lara Croft. Now then..." The great hand tilted backwards, becoming a table again. Its fingers straightened. Soon as it was flat, Jace helped lift Lara's left leg high enough out of the way, bent up behind her, so the stone thumb could swing aside. The Jungle Girl didn't undo the knots from Lara's wrists, however. She was still trapped and helpless, only facedown now. Couldn't lift up or even roll over. "Raise your ass for me," Jace ordered. Well, Lara could do that, scooting up her knees. The Jungle Girl crouched atop the table behind her. She shoved a finger up Lara's bum, and put her tongue on Lara's clit at the exact same moment. That was all it took. "God! Guuhhaahhrruuhh!" She came instantly. Squirted too, drenching the Jungle Girl's face. It was a tsunami. Jace laughed but didn't pull away. Didn't stop what she was doing. Not for another ten or fifteen minutes at least. Not until Lara had, in spite of further efforts to hold back, in the forlorn hope of restoring some of her pride, yielded up another three explosive howling orgasms for her. She only squirted again on the last one, and not half as much as the other time. Still, they were giving the spirits of the temple quite a show, weren't they? This must be making them very happy indeed. 'Cause they didn't only get Lara's climaxes. Once Jace untied her at last, and put her mouth to work, they got to watch the Jungle Girl have several. And she turned out to be a squirter, too. They did some tribbing, after that. Quite a bit, in fact. Lara was always on the bottom, but she got the satisfaction of making Jace come first, each time they did that. Outfucked the Jungle Girl, essentially. Didn't come close to evening the score between them. But hey, it was something. A small step in that direction. Lara's memory got foggy from there on... she sort of remembered Jace leaning close as if to kiss her, or perhaps it had been her that made the move in that direction... but she could never recall if they went through with it. If any proper kissing actually took place, or if one or the other pulled away. She woke up in her bed on her boat, in the middle of the night. No memory of the return swim. In fact, there was no sign of her having made the swim at all. She was dry. Not clean, though. Not close to clean. Might have tried to tell herself the whole business was nothing but a lurid embarrassing dream... Except her swimsuit was gone, and her airtank and weapons. And this stinky residue all over her body... It wasn't the slight grittiness you get from salt water, with the accompanying ocean smell. It wasn't just from excessive sweat. Nope. What she was coated all over with was undeniably the sticky dried slime of cunt juice. No mistaking that smell, either. Her crotch was aching, and her bumhole too. The kind of throbbing burn that was half-pleasurable, at least most of the time. Occasional twinges that were harsher... Yet there were no marks on her skin, and no soreness from her beating. She should have been aching all over, from top to bottom. Especially her butt cheeks and her tits. But those bits all felt fine and dandy. All the crisscross stripes of her whipping - they should have taken days and days to fade. Somehow they'd all just been erased. Like none of that had really been inflicted upon her.