Big Game

Featuring TimeTraxx's Jungle Princess, Sidekick, and their nemesis, the Poacher!

Adults Only, Strong Sexual Content

1.

Experts will tell you poaching is and has always been an economics problem more than anything else. Most poachers do what they do to feed their families, the same as everybody else. There's no better line of work available to them, nothing at least that pays so well.

But then there is the Poacher, a very wealthy young woman by the name of Alexandria Essex. There could be no justification for her killings. She herself would be the first to admit it. She offered no excuses, which was just about the only favorable thing that might be said for her. She killed things because she liked killings things. The wrongness, the pointlessness, those factors contributed to her pleasure. Killing wouldn't be half as satisfying without them. What she enjoyed most of all was breaking rules and getting away with it.

The Jungle Princess considered the Poacher to be her arch-enemy. They had tangled and tussled a number of times. Strangely, each and every occasion the Jungle Princess interfered with her plans, the Poacher never got angry. It seemed she refused to think of the Jungle Princess as a threat. Instead, in a scornful fashion, she only acted amused by her. Of course, for the Jungle Princess, that was infuriating. Unforgivable, too.

Recently, however, the Poacher had changed the nature of their ongoing contest. She'd completely stopped going after endangered animals, all the usual choices, at least within the boundaries of the Jungle Princess's territory. Had the Poacher lost her taste for poaching? Not quite. Nowadays, whenever she reappeared, she'd selected a new and grander target ... which was the Jungle Princess herself.

Three times already, the bloodthirsty villainess had almost nailed her. Three times the Jungle Princess had eluded capture or death at the last possible moment, though much more by luck than skill. Luck, like every stream and water hole throughout the jungle, has a sad and inevitable tendency to run dry.

But if you asked her, the Jungle Princess would insist she wasn't scared of the Poacher, not in the slightest. In fact (though this part she would keep to herself) she was flattered the wicked woman kept coming back for a fresh go-round.

2.

The Poacher's latest scheme was pretty darn cheap and unimaginative, in the opinion of the Jungle Princess. A bad guy (or in this case, a bad gal) couldn't get much more low down and dirty. And yet, basic as it was, it was pretty close to foolproof, as evil schemes go. So of course she was gonna get around to trying this kind of crap. It was maybe weird she hadn't done it sooner. Unless, like the Jungle Princess, she felt uncomfortable with the unoriginality.

What she'd done was take Sidekick hostage. The Jungle Princess was supposed to make an exchange of herself. As if the evil Poacher could be trusted to keep up her side of such a trade. Yeah, right.

All the same, when your nemesis has a gun to your Sidekick's head, you don't have a lot of wiggle-room. The Jungle Princess was gonna have to play along. Or pretend that she was, anyhow.

"Release her at once," she demanded, brandishing a very large machete which she had only recently acquired from a different opponent.

The Poacher smirked and did something clicky and probably pointless with her gun, just to reinforce its presence. "Perhaps I'll begin to consider that, once you put down that knife."

The Jungle Princess was nervous. Much more keyed up than she wanted to be. She thought she had put together a pretty solid plan, and that should have made her confident, yet somehow she'd ended more anxious instead, having a specific outcome to aim for and worry over. Her bikini felt itchy and she had an urge to pee, even though she'd just gone five minutes ago, or tried to, for nothing had come out.

"Don't listen to her, Jungle Princess," said Sidekick. She was kneeling with her arms bound behind her around a skinny tree trunk. Her face was glum, as it damned well should be, allowing herself to get caught the way she had. The Jungle Princess was gonna have some strong things to say to her, once this was all over and done with. "If you give yourself up, nothing will be gained. She won't set me loose! She'll just have both of us in her power! You mustn't let her win!"

"Don't you worry about that," replied the Jungle Princess.

The Poacher sighed and adjusted the angle of her jaunty hat. Against her will, the Jungle Princess found her eyes drawn from her adversary's sneering face to the excessive tightness of her hunting garments. It wasn't the first time this had happened, when the pair confronted one another. In her own ostensibly civilized fashion, the Poacher dressed as provocatively as either of the jungle girls. Her sheer white blouse and khaki shorts scarcely concealed her natural attributes any better than their scanty, crudely-cut animal skins. The blouse was sleeveless, half unbuttoned down the front, and with the shirttails knotted tight above her navel to show off her taunt belly. Her nipples looked like bullets, straining to burst through the white cloth, while the mound of her sex protruded just as prominently through the grip of her shorts. The line of the zipper down the front of those shorts could all too easily be mistaken for another sort of crease. The shorts seemed designed to encourage that idea.

"I'm going to make the decision very easy for you," the Poacher declared, "Either you surrender to me, before I count to three, or I'll just go ahead and pull my trigger, which means your Sidekick's pretty head gets blown off. One ... Two ..."

"You're bluffing! You'd never do it! You want us both alive! Or we're no good to you."

"Are you sure? You better be pretty damn sure."

"If you kill her, it's the last thing you'll ever do! I'll cut your head off! I swear I will!"

"Maybe you're quick enough to pull that off before I shoot out your kneecap, but I doubt it. Either way, your Sidekick will be lost forever. Are you prepared to make that sacrifice?"

"Let her shoot me!" Sidekick exclaimed, "And then slay her where she stands! I have no regrets, Jungle Princess! This is the only way to beat her, once and for all!"

Actually, as we've mentioned earlier, the Jungle Princess had another idea, which she'd been planning from the start. But it wasn't quite yet time to reveal it. She lowered her machete and slumped her shoulders. "No, I shall not throw away your life. It seems, for now, I must yield." She let the knife fall from her fingers and then put both her hands up over her head. She felt her face flush, and then an involuntary shiver coursed through the body. Oddly, it felt not altogether unpleasant. "I surrender myself, Poacher. You have what you wanted. Now let the girl go."

"First, take two steps forward, so you're out of reach of the blade. Now, kneel down. Keep your hands where you've got them. Very good." She produced another loop of cord from behind her back and moved quickly around the Jungle Princess, nudging her butt with the toe of her big black boot. "Now drop forward and lay flat. All the way down! Are you listening? Press your tits and your nose in the dirt! I mean it! Keep still, damn you!"

She lowered herself to straddle the Jungle Princess's waist, holstering her gun to be able to use both her hands. Then she pulled her captive's arms behind her back and tied them together, very tight, both at the wrists and at the elbows. The Jungle Princess growled and whimpered at the strain. She hadn't expected this to hurt as much as it did.

"Better get used to it, bitch," said the Poacher.

Sidekick shook her head and moaned. "You shouldn't have given in to her, Jungle Princess! She won't set me free! All you've done is put both us under her heel!"

"Your little girlfriend is absolutely correct, Jungle Bitch," said the Poacher, testing the knots she'd made before standing. "All right, you're good and secure. You can get back up. Oh wait, I suppose you won't be able to, with your arms trapped like that. Let me help you." She hauled the Jungle Princess to her feet. "My, my. You look quite distressed. Are you suffering a crisis of confidence? It's perfectly understandable, and you have my sympathies. You are in very deep trouble. Both of you."

The Jungle Princess was red in the face and trembling. "W-what do you plan to do to us?"

"Actually, I haven't fully decided yet. There is a warlord I know that has a serious grudge against you. From the neighboring country. I guess a while back a big chunk of his private little army hid in your jungle for a while, or tried to, but you caused him a lot of trouble and drove them out, and then as soon as they came back into their own country, they got ambushed and cut to pieces by one of his rivals. He never told me the full story. Just that he lost half his people and half his face burned off, too. He blames you for all his setbacks and wants payback. I could sell him to you and he would pay me a fortune. I don't really need the money, though. I have too much of the stuff piled up already. It might be more fun to keep you for myself. I can take you both to my estate. I have a good-size private plane; no one will give me any trouble carrying the pair of you out of this silly country. How's that sound? I have a large property, very secluded. We might have a lot of fun together, if you're up to it. There's all sorts of interesting games we might play in the house and outside on the grounds. Nobody will disturb us."

She reached out languidly as she made this speech, almost as if she wasn't conscious of doing it, and pulled away the Jungle Princess's top. The Jungle Princess did her best not to react, as if it didn't bother her in the least that her tits were drooping free. But she couldn't maintain the pretense when the Poacher started fumbling under the front flap of her loincloth. "Ohhoohh! Stop that! How dare you?" She tried to squirm away. The Poacher held her by the arm and wouldn't let her.

"Where do you think you're gonna go, little idiot? You belong to me now. Best of all, your cunt is dripping wet for me already. I could feel it. Here, see for yourself. Look at all this goo on my fingertips!"

"You're disgusting! Get away from me!"

"Ha! There's really no sense in fighting me any longer. Try to get that through your head."

"Don't call me an idiot."

"I call 'em like I see 'em. How did you think this was going to turn out, coming to meet me alone? Knowing I had all the proverbial cards. I guess you never heard the old line about bringing a knife to a gunfight. It's almost like you wanted me to win. Like you wrapped yourself up for me with a big red ribbon. Didn't you try to make some sort of sensible plan?"

"Well," she answered, licking her lips, "Actually, the thing is, I did."

The Poacher's eyes narrowed. "What are you trying to tell me?"

"Just that you were wrong about me coming here alone. Look behind you. Seriously, I'm not kidding."

The Poacher frowned. She pulled her pistol back out and slowly turned around. Where she discovered over a dozen muscular natives in scary warmasks pointing spears at her, as well as bows and arrows.

"Drop your gun," said their leader, "Put up your hands."

She gave it considerable thought. Everyone could see from her expression and the way she shifted the grip on her weapon that she came very, very close to firing it. The men would have slaughtered her, but she would have taken one or two down with her. In the end, she decided it wasn't worthwhile. She wasn't ready for death. She gave up.

"All right, Jungle Bitch," she said over her shoulder, struggling to keep her voice casual, "This round to you. Very good. Believe it or not, it pleases me that you're not quite as stupid as you always seemed. Makes things more interesting."

"Yes," said the Jungle Princess, as the men advanced and grabbed the Poacher by her arms, "I think things are going to become much more interesting for you." She turned to the leader and bowed to him, slightly. "Thank you. You timed that just about perfectly."

"Good fun," he replied, tilting his mask atop his head. He was a handsome fellow, with bright, arresting eyes. The Jungle Princess was unable to properly pronounce his name. He spoke fairly good English, though he was the only one of his people that could. She, in turn, couldn't speak any of his dialect, which was equally true of all the other tribal languages in her land. Sidekick had an inherent gift for that stuff and she'd got very good at most of them; it was probably the most useful thing about her.

Since she couldn't say his real name, the Jungle Princess thought of him as Big Boom, which in her own mind at least approximated the sound of his name. By extension, she thought of his tribe as the Boom-Booms. And not solely because of him but also on account of all the drumming they did day and night, communicating across the jungle. They would probably have been appalled if they knew she'd made up such silly childish names for their champion and for the whole of their tribe. But the Jungle Princess didn't let that bother her. In fact it had very probably never crossed her mind. She didn't mean to be offensive and she would have been surprised if it was pointed out to her. Which is not to say that was a decent excuse.

Also, they weren't exactly great friends of hers. She'd had difficulties dealing with them in the past, a number of messy run-in's. They often objected to her crossing through portions of the jungle which they considered sacred, telling her she had no right to enter those zones without their permission. A big part of the arrangement she had made with them that very day was meant to solve this problem, for good. She was, essentially, buying permanent permission to pass through their sacred areas from here on out. How was she was buying it? With the Poacher.

They'd tried to capture her before, since the huntress was guilty of violating their territories much more often and in much worse ways than the Jungle Princess ever had. She'd shot animals they believed to be reincarnations of their ancestors. She'd also shot a fair number of their warriors, when they tried to pursue her. Now, thanks to the Jungle Princess, they'd been able to sneak up and grab her. They intended never to let her loose.

"What are you planning, boys?" the Poacher asked the natives as they coiled ropes around her arms. They tied her wrists together behind her back, and the same, more painfully, was done to her elbows, just as she had done to the Jungle Princess. Except they did it with much thicker, rougher ropes than she had used. "Ritual execution? Cannibalism? What do I have to look forward to? Be sure you do a good job on those knots. It would be unfortunate for you if I slipped my hands loose." It had to be admitted, she was doing a fine job keeping her cool. Her face was redder than usual, and sweatier. Still, she was holding herself together much better than the Jungle Princess knew she could have managed, in her place.

"You have committed many grave affronts to my tribe, Outsider," Big Boom answered.

"Yes, I'm sure," she said, as if it didn't matter.

"But you shall be permitted to cleanse your spirit and redeem yourself, through good service to our people."

"Oh indeed? What manner of service, dare I inquire?"

"Good service," he repeated, and then after a nicely timed pause he added "Total service."

"Ah. Yes. I see. Well then. Won't that be fun."

"You don't take us seriously, Outsider? You don't fear us?"

She shrugged and faked a bored yawn. "Not particularly."

"Perhaps, given time, we shall succeed in altering your opinion." Then he growled an order to his men in his own language. They grinned and sniggered before they set to work ... When they did, they stripped the Poacher. They didn't bother taking off her clothes properly, which would have been difficult in any case, with her arms already tied so thickly behind her. They just ripped the things off her body. The Jungle Princess, as she watched, was taken aback by their ferocity and retreated a couple steps. "Oh my," she gasped. It only took them a few seconds. All the Poacher had was the skintight blouse and those equally close-fitting shorts. Both items shredded like tissue paper. She had on no bra, but a bright yellow thong was revealed beneath her shorts. They ripped that away. The man that snatched it tied it around the end of his spear as a trophy.

She had very sharp, distinct tan lines. Her torso, except for a strip down the middle, and her hips, her crotch and the upper thirds of both thighs were like ivory or marble, almost shockingly white in contrast to the stretches of her skin that saw the sun. Her arms up to the shoulders, her face and her neck and that brown band down her cleavage. Her spiked nipples looked almost black in contrast to the snowy mounds they stood upon. Her pubes were black, matching the hair on her head. The bush was shaved very neat and narrow into a perfect arrowhead, pointing at her clit, which had a gold stud piece through the hood. The Jungle Princess was very struck by the shine of the thing, and by her labia, which were larger than average, dangling very low and jiggling between her thighs every time she moved, even slightly. Her pussy was a flower of large crimson petals. The near constant wobbles of those droopy petals was the kind of thing that could have hypnotized the Jungle Princess, if she didn't take care.

The men left her hat on, as a mockery, and they didn't bother removing her shooting gloves either. Both the hat and the gloves only emphasized the stark exposure of the rest of her. All the significant sensitive parts. They would have left her boots, for the same reason, if the Jungle Princess hadn't suggested otherwise. Her instincts were correct. She could tell from how she pursed her lips that Alexandria was far more bothered by the loss of her sturdy footwear than all the rest. It was only when her pale, unprotected toes were scrunching in the dirt that she began to feel vulnerable. Her feet were slim with long well-shaped toes and trim but unpainted nails. They were nice looking feminine feet, and they were so bright white, as was the lower portions of her sleek athletic calves, it almost seemed she still had a pair of socks on. She shuddered and thick streams of sweat dribbled down her face. They dribbled down every part of her, in fact. Her pussy clenched, an involuntary defensive spasm. Everyone could see that it had, because you saw its droopy petals flex up and inward.

Watching that put a troublesome lump in the throat of the Jungle Princess. She wasn't fully conscious of it, but her own pussy clenched in sympathy.

Big Boom himself knotted a leash around the Poacher's throat. "There will be a reckoning for this," she told him through clenched teeth, as he tightened the knot, "I promise you that."

He just smirked and passed the end of the rope to another man to hold, turning his attention back to the Jungle Princess.

"Um," she said, when he was facing her, "Nobody has got around to untying me yet." She turned her back to him and bent slightly, displaying her bound arms. "Would you cut me loose now so I can put my clothes on?" Actually she still wore her loincloth, only it had got twisted on its strings around her hips so it wasn't screening the places it was intended to screen.

"No," was his answer, "Not just yet." He put a hand on her shoulder and spun her back around. His hand moved to her chin to straighten her posture, and then it drifted down across the front of her body.