Enter the Amazon

Lisa gently removed a scampering beetle from the next segment of the engraved story, which showed a more complex drawing. People lined up in two rows, five male-figures, and five females. Some of the females were clearly pregnant, with round curves over their abdomens. Yet in the row below that, there were only women, half of them with the representation for a pregnant belly. The other women were drawn taller, but did not seem with child. What was happening? What could it really mean? Below it was only that mysterious script that Lisa had no hope of reading.

Brushing aside a wide leaf, the Professor turned her gaze to a much larger drawing, occupying the entire width of the linear rock. This was a village scene apparently, from the rounded curves on the ground probably depicting huts or hovels. It took a few moments to fully absorb all the action represented.

First, in the village where the males and females joining in Missionary sex as before, yet there were also more females, arms waving above them in...distress? In a flash, Lisa realized that there were definitely two separate...classes of women carved into the rock; Those with smaller, more normal breasts, and those whose breasts were clearly larger, visibly pronounced and prominent. The rutting pairs only seemed to contain the sexually-exaggerated women, and Lisa studied the engravings carefully.....yes, every woman having sex in the village was one of the extra-busty types, like those earlier in the record that had been exposed to the flower-blossom object.

Careful examination revealed that....no, it was no mistake; some of the women were having sex with each other...two simple figures both with the curved protrusions indicating breasts, going at it 69-style. The majority, however where dominantly straddling stick-like figures with penises. Though the line art on the crude tablet was simple, could Lisa be blamed for the tingling in her breasts; the hardening of her nipples? Surely, the flush of heat creeping into her groin was understandable.

The latter end of the rock depicted a sprawling mural of paleolithic pornography. countless images, taking the place where the text should be, covered the rock, in a dizzying variety of intimate positions. Quite a few Lisa had never seen, nor imagined. Why had the artists gone so overboard with their engraved depictions of sex? It must be to emphasize that what happened was a pandemic orgy like nothing this culture had ever seen before.

But then...the last image, the last scene....Lisa studied the crooked lines carefully...yes, there were several broken and twisted lines in the same places where the huts where before; had there been...destruction? That seemed to be the message. Was this village destroyed by...by sex? Nearby the stunted ruins that might have been the wreakage of huts where groups of the exaggerated women, running and searching....like they were seeking...more men?

Well, this last scene had not a man in sight, only these frenzied, over-sexed nymphos, some of whom were pregnant, yet not all. Carefully studing the engravings, Lisa found that not only where the figures all women, but there were no longer any women with a more normal bust-size. Those that remained all had breasts which....hmm....the Professor tried to extrapolate the depicted sizes with what they would have looked like proportionately, in flesh-and-blood. Certainly bigger than her own, apple-sized endowments neatly contained in her black, elastic athletic bra. If these women lived today, no doubt they would be strippers or porn-stars; with boobs...er....breasts right at the cusp of what should be humanly possible; not the huge, silicon globes of radical plastic surgery, but firm mountains at the upper-most limit of what most men would find attractive. A man probably would be able to just barely encircle these breasts with an outstretched hand; and no doubt those in the etchings had tried just that.

But what happened to these people? No wonder there had never been reports of tribes in this area; this was most likely an extinct culture. This....this...sexual disaster must have scattered them, ended them as a distinct race. Yet, where were the men? What was the full meaning?

It wouldn't be difficult to arrange transportation for these artifacts; and in less than a month Dr. Sorrentino had no doubts that a team of the most gifted archeologists and linguists the world had to offer would unlock the mystery of the writings.....the warnings?

But at the beginning, it was apparent that whatever the full story was, it had started with something the Ancients had represented as a flower. And since the artifacts were here, the village might once have been nearby. If so, then there might be a good chance that this strange, terrible blossom might still be blooming amidst the rampant greenery of the deep rainforest.

"Well, this looks like a job for a Paleobotanist if ever there was one!"

**********

Should she go to look for her? Dr. Sorrentino had been gone far longer than Dylsia anticipated; and she didn't take a walkie-talkie! 'Just want to get some fresh air'. The professor had said. Oh well, Dylsia was the student; she shouldn't have to do the nagging. Still, she should leave the tent. She should put some pants on. She should stop masturbating to the memory and photograph of her boyfriend, Eric.

Another reason to worry about the intrepid Paleobotany professor; as far as her loyal graduate student knew, Lisa had no one special in her life, no one like Eric. Eric Cones had been the only thing that had stopped Dylsia from blowing her savings on a breast-enhancement procedure. His confident seduction demonstrated a strong will and firm guidance that she found distinctly manly. Yet he had lifted her spirits with the sort of classic, hopeless romanticism that revealed a tender soul while giving her assurance of her own desireability.

It had been so foolish, such a mistake to think that huge, jiggling boobs larger than grapefruits would give her the completion her life had lacked. She didn't need silicone in her chest, she just needed someone like Eric to make her feel like a woman. And as her fingers glanced over the lips of her hot cunt, sequestered in a mosquito-proof tent, Dylsia reflected the other ways Eric had affirmed her womanhood.

No...no...she had to stop...she couldn't sit here in the tent pleasuring herself, when Sorrentino could have her legs broken in a ravine somewhere. She delayed because....in short, she had overestimated her own resolve. She thought she was more independent than this; the young hispanic didn't believe that women could feel such a deep, sexual need; the tension that men did. Yet both mind and crotch alike seemed to cry out for her chosen mate. Was it the real thing?.....not exactly; she hadn't really thought about making her arrangement with Eric really permanent; really official. She simply craved him, craved the way he made her feel. She would need to experience more of him, spend more time with him, - and with his cock between her sleek, bronzed legs before she could be sure he was...'The One'.

Unconsciously, Dylsia began to groom and rub her auburn hair; in the past she had always hoped that her colorful cascade of flowing bronze would distract people from the microscopic travesties that her breasts had failed to grow into. And she again began to contemplate some radical change, surgery - drugs - weird herbs, anything to get more curves. As she stood up outside of her tent; it hit her in a flash that her and Dr. Sorrentino were due to meet more students, and other Green Peace activists tomorrow; and....there she was again! Worried about the approval of strangers! How could she invest her self-worth in her bust size; it was silly! Yet subconciously, the shame over her bland figure was always lurking in the back of her mind.

So Dylsia would stroll off into the woods and try to find the Professor; she'd put her superficial insecurities out of her mind...put Eric out of her mind. Damn....she was more...dependent on him that she realized! No one else had ever made her feel desireable, feminine the way he had. She needed that confidence, needed that support more than she realized. But she had to become self-reliant; she had to succeed on her own. Yet somehow, there was a lingering sense that on this journey, here in this fabulous rainforest, Dylsia Jimenez would find a way to change her life forever.

**********

Part 3: The Eleventh Orgasm

The drawings on the stone tablets had been rather crude, yet almost by instinct Lisa had recognized the plant when she saw it. Largely because she'd never seen anything else like it.

"The stem of the flower is over a meter and half in length, yet does not exhibit the cellulose structure that would create a wooden texture; unusualy in a plant this size..." She felt herself lapsing into 'lecture mode', in fascination with the vast blossom; which she'd been observing, touching and analyzing for....several minutes now. The head of the flower had an enormity that matched the great size of its stem, the only flower she'd ever seen close to this size was a blossom that smelled of rotting flesh and attracted flies to pollinate it.

Yet this botanical wonder could not have been more different in aesthetics. An aromatic cornucopia teased her senses, and more than once the otherwise business-like scientist had to stifle the urge to bury her face in the large, hub-cap sized flower. She suspected that it contained unusual chemical properties in addition to its radiant color. The loose, rippling petals cascaded from the base of the stalk in a scarlet fountain with the richness of liquid silk. No...not quite scarlet, in the right light it seemed to shimmer with a violet irridescence....yet when she circled the plant again to the portion where the scant rays of sunlight slipped through the lush canopy; there seemed to be flecks of gold upon the modified leaves of the flower. Dr. Sorrentino nodded to herself, moving her face nearer to the plant as she formulated a hypothesis.

"Yes...the regional natives that carved the marble blocks likely encountered this flower, and most likely ground it up or extracted juices from it to use in some shamanistic ritual; I suspect the species has hallucinogenic properties; which might explain the apparent behavior of the ancient villagers." Then she wondered whether some stray molecule in the plant could have true aphrodisiac properties. For centuries, mankind had sought after such drugs; the results being little more than snake-oil trickery. Yet....here, amidst this ocean of greenery, there were more unknown species than anywhere else on Earth. Man had not yet explored half of the biological marvels of the Amazon. Close examination of the plant was not likely to be risky, Lisa concluded. Just don't eat it, smoke it, or use it in any rituals.

"Unusual...the flower has all the anatomical traits expected...except I can see no evidence of an androecium. Hmm...the pistil is present, including stigma....style....and a swollen body corresponding with the ovary...Female reproductive center is disproportionately large; even taking into account the greater comparative size of this flower. And yet there appears to be no stamen." Lisa brushed a velvety petal to get a closer look at the pointed bulb jutting from the center of the blossom.

"The species appears to possess...exaggerated female organs; yet unlike other angiosperms there does not seem to be any trace of the normal male organs. Could the anther of the plant be....reduced in size? Or perhaps this species is something like the Gingko tree; with discrete male and female plants. Hmph- an unprecedented adaptation for a flower. Perhaps a more detailed examination of the pistil will reveal more..." That was when the female organs of the plant began to quickly, rapidly swell.

**********

They still did not believe. Even though the young students had claimed to be defenders of nature, interested in protecting the Rainforest; Pablo could sense that they humored his claims. He was their Native Guide! Yet even these young students could not believe the full truth! But Pablo would not be angry; he would simply prove them wrong. When the students completed their journey at the end of the week to the site of the Diamond Miners, to begin their protests, the case of Influenza two of the girls had been infected with would be cured!

Pablo was a small, unassuming figure in his khaki safari-style jungle gear; yet he knew secrets, tricks, and keys to navigation and survival in the great Amazon that had yet to be matched. It would not be far; he had learned just recently of where the plants where that could cure this particular range of diseases that some of the students had begun to suffer from. Even after all his years in the wilds, there was always more to know, more to learn. The plant that might help them was close...very close within the sweeping panorama of brilliant vegetation. Pablo stooped down to examine the wild herbs and ferns. Close now....close to....the hem of a dress.

The woman was just tall enough to seem healthy, yet the comfortable shape of her voluptuous form would fit neatly within the embrace of most men on the planet. Her robes were green and gold, with sun-like emblems and embroided golden shapes that resembled spiders. The robe was open in the front, revealing a glistening body of amber-hued curves and feminine slopes, from the buxom swell of breasts ripe with the fertile energy of the prime years of reproductive vigor. Down towards the luscious terrain of her navel; and the dark thatch of her naked womanhood that seemed to radiate heat. Pablo's gaze lingered for several moments too long before raising his brown eyes to meet the haughty, heart-shaped face of a woman as eerily beautiful as she was vaguely familiar.

"Ahh, greetings Priestess. I did not realize that there had been a new acolyte."

"You are correct....and incorrect at once, dear Pablo." The two spoke in a lilting, sing-song tongue that was ancient before the voyage of Columbus; a secret language known only to a literal handful of select individuals. She...she had called Pablo by name...a new Acolyte? Suspicious, Pablo's eyes narrowed as he scrutinized the strangely-clad young woman. Her rose-petal lips grew into a wry grin with a mischevious flavor as the native guide's expression changed from curiosity, to suspicion, to stunned recognition.

"NO...NO!! It IS you!" Pablo's lips quivered as he shrieked.

"Who else, Pablo; who would it be besides me?"

"But...your face...your body...." the small and wiry guide jerked backwards as if a viper were about to strike. "So young...so...erotic....It must mean...you have violated the Trust!" The woman of forbidden youth turned and spat.

"Damn the Ancients and their fears! I have guarded the Sanctum for the majority of my life..." Her green, green eyes grew wistful. "Decades before you were born, Pablo I was guarding and watching. I am too old to even remember my full count of years....after all this time...all these decades... It was MY turn!" Her voice rose in pitch and volume; and perky breasts that jutted forward jiggled as the Priestess raised her fist. "Now...near the end of what would be my natural life, I deserve a reward. I deserve the benefits of all that I have protected!" But the young guide shook his head in disbelief.

"By breaking the Trust; you have undone all the good you have accomplished through those long years! Now, you have become your own enemy!"

"I have become free!" countered the smooth-skinned siren that could not have been older than twenty-five. "I alone deserve to reap the rewards for my service! I'll not wither away; I'll not die the Hag's death! I have gained more than just my youth, I have a face and flesh more sublimely beautiful than I ever did! Now it is my turn to make men beg! Even you, Pablo! You claim only higher motives; yet you are a man like all the rest, even now you hunger to press your body against me!" Her gaze burned into him with a fiery blend of lust and cruelty. Pablo knew then that words would avail him nothing; he also knew that the knife and pistol he carried would avail him less. He understood all too well what the Priestess had become. The temptation she had been under for all those years was too much. Really, it was just a matter of time before one of the women broke their vows and became the creature of impossible beauty that stood before the wilderness tracker.

So Pablo ran. He turned and pumped his legs as fast as he could, then he ran just a bit faster. He was forced to stop short as he rounded a tree - and nearly collided with the gorgeous, treacherous woman who was far, far too young for her years. How did she do it? How had she gotten in front of him? Was she that fast, that powerful?

"You know there can be no escape, dear one. The hungers of my flesh have grown...more powerful than I dared imagine! My appetites for men and sex...." she shuddered a moment in awe. "I never imagined a sensation could be so strong! There is but one way this will end, Pablo. You know better than to try and fight me; you have seen that you cannot escape. With my new powers...I could force you..." a delicate finger brushed his trembling chin.

"But it will be so much better for you to come to me." And he could smell her then, he could smell the crushing pall of her sugary musk wafting from her body invisibly. How long could Pablo resist the lightning-waves of searing libido that were being kindled within him? The problem was not only from her nude and moist flesh, but the chemical influence of this potent aroma just as much. A finger slipped inside her bush, inside the hot and wet cavern of femininity that seemed to part wide to welcome any intruder.

"First...you will indeed lick my cunt! My musks will burn in your brain until you relent. Then, at last you will drink the nectar from these glorious teats!" She jiggled each soft breast experimentally. "And then, only when you are most tortured by desire; only when the flames of your lust threaten to choke out all reason, all intelligence, only then will you impale my womb with your manmeat! And soon - so very soon you will cum! You will cum inside me and fill me with your impregnanting manseed!"

"No! NO!! You wouldn't go that far?! I...I understand the desire to be young again but....after breaking the trust...to allow a man to impregnate you? Think of what it could mean!" Pablo had to think fast; perhaps with quick wits he could outsmart his seductive captor.

"If you begin to spread, in this day and age, the government will hunt you with bombs, and guns, and rockets; once the government understands who....what you have become, they will punish the Rainforest with their weapons to wipe out the Sanctuary!

"And should the seeds perish; there will be nothing, NOTHING to stop the Florfemea! What if the Florfemea should rise again? And the soldiers are already at war with you, purging any trace of what you were protecting! What is to be done should the Femea return?"

"You make a wise case, Pablo. But you forget who you speak to; as if the Florfemea Gynus is a threat to me! Still, the soldiers would be a nuisance, and that is why my first stop will be Brasilia; now that all men will crave me; lust after me, I may as well start with the politicians.

"After you, Pablo. After you cum inside my womb, after you vent your manseed within me." The errant Priestess gripped Pablo's wrist, placing his calloused palm in the soft valley right between the impressive cleavage of her soft bosom.

"Feel my body, take in my musk, my sexual essence through your every pore. To fight me....you must fight yourself...your own manhood. Yes....you weaken, Pablo. You are straining to resist the musks; the pleasure of my touch. Yes...on your knees Pablo, your hunger for my sex is almost as great as is mine for yours!" And Pablo found he could no longer stop himself from gazing with wanton yearning at her fragrant cunt. He knew full well who and what she was; the Guide appreciated the implications of what she'd done when she'd broken the Trust. Yet he could feel the sharp pangs of his own arousal growing stronger with each second! He moaned with yearning as the sharp, sweet ache tortured his flesh from within. The urge, the demand to couple with her naked body became a physical sensation.