tagHumor & SatireRaiders of the Temple

Raiders of the Temple

byLitRiter©

This is a work of fiction in the style of the 1930's pulps. It is NOT politically Correct in any sense of the word. Please take no offense, none is meant. Please feel free to send me feedback, whether you like the story or have criticism.

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Mark Traeger lead the way down the dark stone passage. He held out the torch, the only illumination in the temple’s depths, and swung it gently from side to side to burn away the dense accumulation of cobwebs that sought to block the way.

Missy Hampton, of the Albany Hamptons, clung to his back and shivered despite the pervasive humid heat. She had thought it a grand adventure to fund this exploration of a lost city in the Yucatan, and had insisted on accompanying Dr. Traeger personally. But now the adventure was a nightmare — her assistant Fred had been killed, mowed down by rifle fire from the jungle as he had carried a pot of hot tea to her. Most of their little expedition had died in those first moments of gunfire, but Dr. Traeger had grabbed her up and rushed her into the entrance of the large central temple.

From the deafening explosions of gunfire and the shrieks of the wounded and dying to the utter silence of the tomb. The only sound the whuffing of the torch and the sizzle of cobwebs as the vanished without ash. Then a light hum, like a small fly too close to her ear came — just before the light pinch of a sting below her right ear. She clapped her hand to the sting, opened her mouth to cry out, and the world swirled around her as she slipped senseless to the floor.

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“Miss Hampton will see you now,” she heard as her assistant, Fred, opened the door to her suite. Melissa, nee Missy, Hampton glanced at her dress to make absolutely certain not a thread was out of place. She endeavored to present a dual perception of herself— at once the beautiful daughter of a shipping magnate, desirable in every sense to every man she met, but also a serious businesswoman, someone to be reckoned with — and respected.

She was 27, old for a woman to remain unmarried. Her chestnut hair hung to her waist when she stepped from the bath, but few other than chambermaids had ever seen her hair down. She had pretty green eyes that flashed when she felt humorous or angry. She wore a simple blue silk dress, cut to show her fine long legs, in fact showing two inches of thigh above the knee. The jacket was loose, but when she sat straight (as a lady should) it hung open in just such a way as to emphasize her bountiful bosom.

In strode her appointment, as expected, a professor from the university dressed in a tweed suit with his fedora in hand. What she didn’t expect from Dr. Mark Traeger, however, was his powerfully built, tall body that made him look like a lumberjack or farmhand who had cleaned himself up and put on his Sunday best.

Missy stood and stepped into his handshake, as always to grasp a man’s hand and shake it firmly, but found herself gazing into Dr. Traeger’s smoky blue eyes. They held an intensity that at once comforted her, but also made her feel naked. She dropped her eyes and realized her hand was limp in his powerful grip.

“A p-pleasure to make your acquaintance Dr. Traeger,” she said, pinching her leg at her stammer. The man smiled easily and stood while she took her seat on the divan. She waved to indicate a chair and invited him to sit.

“I’ll get straight to it, Miss Hampton, without wasting either of our time,” he said tersely, but again Missy was surprised at the timbre of his deep bass voice. Surprised, and something more. “I have uncovered evidence of a forgotten city in the Yucatan peninsula of Mexico. Given the recent flurry of activity there since the discovery of the crystal skull, I feel I must strike while the iron is hot and lead an expedition to rediscover this city. I am here to see if you will assist in the funding of this venture.” And with that, he finally sat on the edge of the seat, elbows on his thighs, leaning forward and holding his hat between his knees.

Missy considered for a moment, and asked, “What exactly would a “venture” like this cost?”

“Twenty-five thousand dollars, but I would only ask that you put forward any amount you are willing and I will find the rest elsewhere.”

“I believe you will,” she said softly. “But there would of course be conditions attached to a large donation to your cause.” “I believe that I can meet any conditions you might have, short of allowing you to personally possess any of the objects found. Those of course would belong to the University museum.”

“I see,” she said coolly, meaning to look into his eyes, but finding she could only look at his tie, or his broad shoulders. Or his rough, powerful hands.

“Dr. Traeger,” she began, standing. Traeger sensed his defeat and had likewise risen and was preparing to leave. “I shall fund your expedition entirely, with only two provisions.”

Traeger looked at her in shock, then his eyes narrowed. Missy felt her knees go weak and a strange tingle — elsewhere. “And what provisions would those be?”

“When the recovered objects make their tour, they will be identified as objects of the Hampton Expedition, as the expedition will now be known. And secondly…” She fought herself as her mouth went dry. “Secondly, I will personally accompany the expedition, along with my assistant, Fred Ramsey.” She held up her hand against his forthcoming protest and continued, “Dr. Traeger, you are expert on all matters pertaining to the expedition — travel, provisions, and the like. You will have complete domin- pardon me, control of these matters. I only wish to be there, and I will lend my assistance in any ways that you see fit.” Dr. Traeger stared at her through slitted eyes for a moment longer, then broke into a large, toothy grin and made her at once very happy and also sent butterflys through her stomach.

“You’ve got a deal, Miss Hampton!” He took her hand firmly in his and gave a very business-like shake.

After he had left, Missy stretched out on the divan and wondered at the feelings she was experiencing, and hoped the insane itch, if she could call the longing she felt that, would go away soon.

They left the following month, by train from New York to Miami, then a steamer to the Yucatan, and that voyage was short indeed. Then by truck into the jungle, and finally on foot, with mules hauling their belongings.

After only two weeks, Dr. Traeger had lead them to a dense thicket, where he proceeded to chop and hack until a section of stone wall was revealed. Two more weeks later, they were camped in the central plaza of a large city covered in vines and jungle, directly below the largest of the temple buildings. Dr. Traeger had made the initial forays into the temple with only a handful of native workers, but after determining there was no danger of traps, Missy had been allowed to go along.

Gone were her silk stockings, high heels, and silk and satin dresses. For over a month she had worn rough work clothes, her underwear the only civilization her poor soft skin had contact with. She had stood before the mirror in her tent, admiring her body and especially her legs in the scandalous shorts she had put on. Why they showed off half of her thighs! If that didn’t make good Dr. Traeger take notice, she didn’t know what would.

But then the shots had begun, and as soon as she had poked her head through the flap of the tent, she had seen Fred’s shoulder explode in a shower of blood and gore, seen him pitch over into the brush, dropping her china tea pot. From out of nowhere, Dr. Traeger had appeared, snatched her up and hurried her into the temple. He had grabbed a torch at the entrance, but lead her through the darkness for some while before pausing to light it. In her shock she said nothing, and in response he was silent as well.

She had just begun to feel they were safe.

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Missy’s shoulders and hips were screaming with ache as she slowly gained her senses. She jerked awake as she realized her wrists and ankles were bound, that she was stretched across a large stone slab. She was still in the temple, one of the chambers deep inside that they had yet to discover, she thought. The chamber was small, barely five feet from each edge of the slab to a wall. By arching her back, she could see the exit, which was positioned directly behind her, over her head. She wiggled her toes, they had taken her boots and socks, but otherwise she seemed unmolested.

Gathering her senses, she looked at the torches in each corner of the room, watched as the burning pitch dripped from them out of her sight to the floor. It wasn’t very warm in the chamber, but Missy realized she had perspiration standing out all over her body. Missy finally had to admit — she was afraid.

After untold hours of slow torture, her shoulders and hips felt as if they were swollen and enflamed, Melissa heard a faint shuffling from above her. Into the chamber stepped a native indian woman, completely nude and carrying a small urn. Her skin was without flaw, her dark tan skin looking as soft as a babe’s. Her hair was as long and as black as a daughter of Shanghai, and it hung about her shoulders freely. Her large breasts swung softly with each step, but still stood out firmly. Not too much longer for that, Dearie, Missy thought bitterly.

“Please, let me free! I am a rich woman, and will reward you handsomely for your help,” Missy cried. The look on the young savage’s face told Missy that she probably didn’t understand a word of English.

The woman lifted the urn and made as if to pour the liquid into Missy’s mouth. A thirst unnoticed leaped to her throat and she drank deeply of the liquid, which tasted of jungle fruits mixed with turpentine. And then the woman began to pull at the rough cloth of Missy’s shirt.

“Here, now!” Missy yelled, but a wave of vertigo swept through her and her head fell back on the slab with a thud she didn’t feel. She watched the room spin as the woman tore, and sometimes biting at the cloth ripped each shred from her. Missy blinked, and the chamber came back into focus. She had no idea how long she had been disoriented. She closed her eyes and luxuriated in the feelings that began to flood through her, like the long forgotten dreams that she had had in her youth. Wave after wave of pleasure washed over her as a soft, wet tickling brushed across her “Woman’s Place”. With a sudden dawning, Missy’s eyes shot open and she brought her head up to see the young savage girl gently licking and sucking at her most tender and secret place! A blush ran through her, and she moaned and pleaded for her to stop, as a lady should, but hatefully the pleasure was so intense that she began to lift her hips against her attacker much as she thought a common whore might do. Her head thrashed from side to side and her breasts ached from some unknown yearning, as she mewled and moaned at the woman’s ministrations.

Then the woman put a finger against the entrance to her most secret place, and writhing and screaming, Missy was overcome by wave after wave of pleasure and release as the finger pressed into her then worked in and out.

Again, Missy opened her eyes. The pleasure, and the woman, were gone. She had no desire stronger than that to stretch luxuriously and snuggle into soft covers, but as with everything else, she was hampered by the bindings and the hard stone slab.

Look at me, a wanton slut, a common whore now, she thought, I actually want her here to do more of… that.

She thought of the woman, her body, her hair, her... breasts, and began to feel stirrings again. Is this how a man feels about a woman?

She heard noise from the corridor, and for a brief moment hoped against hope that her young savage lover had returned, but the noise was too loud. Three extremely handsome young men, apparently of the same tribe as the woman. They were well muscled and similarly naked. She struggled to keep her eyes above their waists, but lost out to her curiosity. They looked massive, and she noticed as they twitched and became even larger as they looked at her. Wonder filled her mind, then she brought her thoughts back to reality. Of course they look huge, you addled twit! You’ve never seen one before!

Their hands were hot on her skin, and as her left arm was released and brought down across her chest, she cried out at the pain coursing through her shoulder. One of the men unfastened her right arm as the other two tied the left once again, but this time to a thick staff they had carried with them. Her right arm was also fastened to the staff, then one by one each of her legs. Then after a brief pause when one of the handsome savages pressed his palm against her womanhood, the other two hefted the staff to their shoulders and carried her down the passage.

Before too long, they entered into a very large chamber indeed. As everywhere else in the temple, the walls, floor and ceiling were of stone, and the chamber sported a large central raised dais. In the center of the dais was a bowl of flaming coals, and the bowl was flanked by two large wooden frame wheels. As she was carried up the steps onto the dais, she noticed with shock that lashed to one of the wheels was the spectacular naked form of Dr. Traeger!

The hard, lean muscles of his body rippled as he struggled, moving smoothly beneath his rough tanned skin alone was enough to set her longing in motion, but the way his member stood out rigid, looking like a foot-long bone set into his hips, put her into a (forgive the terminology) lather.

Taking her cue from Dr. Traeger, Missy began to struggle and fight, shouting at the savages as they carefully fastened her, hand and foot to the wheel, facing Dr. Traeger across the flames. The heat of the flames brought out a heavy perspiration on her body making her shine in the firelight, much as Dr. Traeger did.

Missy had hardly noticed that naked savage men and women had begun to fill the chamber, until their voices raised in a murmuring jungle chant. But instead of breaking out into a wild dance, the natives simply stood stock still, watching the writhing white couple.

After the chamber had filled, a young savage couple, a man and woman hardly adults yet, walked ceremoniously onto the dais. They gazed at each other, and the man nodded. The woman was beautiful, devastatingly so. Her body was curvaceous, with large, full, firm breasts, wide hips, and coppery brown skin. She walked over to Traeger, placed her hands on the wheel, and rolled him back until his engorged member lay before her face.

With a gasp of horror and revulsion, Melissa Hampton watched as the young savage girl impaled her face upon Traeger’s member. Missy noted with satisfaction that Traeger continued to struggle, until the savage’s head began to rock and sway. She could only imagine what that beautiful mouth was doing to him, but he suddenly ceased his fighting, and struggled against something else altogether. Missy watched fascinated as his head whipped from side to side, his cries of defiance having turned to grunts and groans of lust. And she enjoyed it.

Missy noticed how her own nipples had stiffened and grown rigid and tender, and her now impure womanhood grew hot and moist. She watched him writhe, apparently attempting to force his manhood deeper into the wanton savage’s face, when suddenly her view was obscured. The beautiful male savage stood before her, and grasped her wheel.

Instead of up and back, as Traeger had been rolled, she was rolled down, until her face hung inches from the savage’s member. It was quite large, compared to the men who had brought her in, but not as large as Traeger’s. It met his body in a profusion of curls that matched her own. The main difference was the hair-covered sack that hung below it, as if weighed down by two large stones.

She opened her mouth to protest, and found it suddenly invaded by the tip of his member, and as she thought to bite down, he forced more of the bitter salty meat into her mouth and she could not. She tried to shake her head to get away, but he seemed to enjoy her struggle and began to slowly work his length into and out of her mouth.

Her memory returned to her experience with the young girl who had drugged her and spoiled her womanhood, and Missy decided that the best way to handle this situation would be to do as Dr. Traeger seemed to have been doing. Enjoy it.

She suddenly wished her hands free so she might grasp that tight, muscular bottom, hold his manhood still so she could lick it, taste it, and explore. Instead she settled on lapping her tongue around inside her mouth and gently sucking. She realized she was doing something right when the savage grabbed both hands full of her chestnut locks. His hips began to pump more urgently, and then, with a bellow, his seed exploded in gouts from the tip, the first two straight down her throat and choking her, the successive spurts washing into, filling, then running out of her mouth. After coughing clear her throat, Missy continued to lick and suck until the member began to soften and he pulled it from her lips.

The crowd roared! There was shouting and many voices raised in song. The man stumbled back, shaking, and Missy looked up at him through her hair, and licked her lips. Not too had, that When he stumbled out of view, she was rewarded by the view of the savage woman, her hands on Traeger’s member, jerking and stroking as if to yank it off from him. With a howl, Traeger’s seed shot forth for a great while, and when the woman stood and turned, Missy could see it gleaming white on her face, in her hair, and running down her breasts. Uncivilized whore.

Traeger stared across at her, at first embarrassed, but then she saw a fire light in his eyes. His lust had only been awakened, and, by God, he wanted HER! And she knew at that moment, if never before, she wanted him the same way. Civilization and propriety be damned! She wanted to shack up in a downtrodden hotel with him and be as his whore for a week! The curl on his lip told her that her eyes had told him as much.

Then her view was obstructed once more as another savage stepped up and pushed his hardened member into her mouth. This one occasionally pulled it out and slapped it against her cheeks and lips, but to what end she couldn’t know. His seed had spurted in her mouth, then on her face. The next had done as Dr. Traeger’s whore had, and pumped his slick, swollen member until his seed spurted into her face, temporarily blinding her. There was another, then another, until she lost count and all sense of time, but she determinedly continued to suck and lick with a fervor.

The young savage woman who had first introduced the pleasures of sex to her rolled her wheel until she was fully upright, and made her drink fully from the urn again. The room began to spin, and she was dimly aware that the crowd had erupted into an orgy of sexual activity. She dimly recognized many of the animal acts that the men and women performed upon each other, then with a shock filtered through her drugged state, she watched men performing filthy acts upon other men, and women upon women. And nowhere to be seen only a couple or a pairing, simply a crowd giving and receiving amongst as many as they could service.

A sharp pain, softened by drugged shocked her to look forward into the face of a savage man who had penetrated her womanhood fully, and as he placed his mouth to he breast, he began to pump his member into her roughly. The drug, whatever it was, seemed to dull pain and thinking, but it didn’t seem to overpower pleasure. Missy strained to meet him, take him into her with an animal lust, not to be denied. Waves of pleasure rolled and crashed through her, and she watched his face contort with seeming agony as he poured his seed into her womb. He was replaced by another man, this one not so large, but he moved against her in such a way that she didn’t mind.

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