The Lost City

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Female tourists are captured in a foreign land.
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"The State Department says it's unsafe to travel there? No fucking bureaucrat at the State Department is going to tell me I can't go to Columbia if I want to."

Kate had made up her mind to visit Ciudad Perdida, among other sites in the South American country, and she was used to getting her way. Kate was an obstinate, self-centered woman who had climbed the corporate ladder until, at the age of thirty nine, she was a vice president. Other females in the company often accused her of using only her model-like appearance to make progress. But Kate was an intelligent, shrewd negotiator who simply liked to win. In fact, she had to win to be happy.

Her husband Joel was used to her rants. He put up with them in order to stay in the good graces of his blonde beauty. Luckily, Kate was as intense about sex as she was with everything else. And he more than met her need for a large, satisfying partner.

"Hon, we'll go if you want but you have to acknowledge that they probably know more about the situation than we do," Joel told her.

"We've been in worse spots than Columbia," Kate replied. "We're not fucking drug dealers. We're tourists."

"American tourists. On their turf."

Kate frowned. "I'm getting the tickets. We're going."

Joel hid his smile behind a book. Sometimes he just loved her approach to life.

Ciudad Perdida was a major political and economic center for native Columbians as far back as 800 A.D. It was discovered in 1972 and publicly revealed in 1975. It soon became a tourist attraction that required many, many miles of strenuous hiking to get to. Kate considered it a challenge.

The Columbian Civil War resulted in tourist kidnappings in the area, but the Columbian government subsequently declared the area safe—undoubtedly in the hopes of bringing tourist dollars back into the system.

The U.S. State Department had a different interpretation of the situation and declared it unsafe for Americans.

None of the history affected Kate's decision to go. Perhaps, it fueled her on.

She and Joel made the long flight south, having arranged to join a very small group of other tourists for the six day, five night trek to the 'lost city.' Only one other female—a twenty-something girl named Carrie—was among the six travelers. On the first day, Kate decided the young woman was far too flirty for Kate's liking and suspected one more day of hiking might cause Carrie to give up the quest.

They all slept on hammocks inside tents. Kate and Joel preferred Hiltons, but none were anywhere to be seen in the desolate mountains. This was roughing it to the extreme and Kate was determined to make it work. The second day started out uneventfully, with the climb gaining in steepness and the wilderness around them becoming denser. The group was discussing stopping for lunch when trouble arrived.

One of the guides saw the guerillas first. They were heavily armed, dressed in camouflage, and running towards the group from three directions. Joel was normally a pretty level-headed guy, but in this case he panicked.

With the bulk of the tourist group in one clump and Kate at the rear, Joel yelled to her, "Run, Kate! Down the hill on the trail. Run like hell!"

Kate turned and sped down the path as fast as the narrow, curvy trail would allow. She was somewhat relieved not to see any guerillas around her. But behind her, shouts and orders in Spanish could still be heard. Twice she almost stumbled down the hillside to her left. And then she heard the footsteps.

She dared not turn around for fear of losing speed or missing a step and ending up on a head-first dive into the woods. Kate was athletic, but she was no match for the younger, Columbian-born rebel. In less than one hundred yards, he was upon her.

Kate felt an arm on her left side, and then she was being pulled off the path to the right. They landed on the bank of a hill, with Kate on her stomach and her attacker on top of her legs. After the initial shock of the landing, he quickly moved up to press a hand into the small of Kate's back.

"No te muevas!" he shouted.

Despite having no clue what he was saying, Kate was too scared to move. She could hear the man's heavy breathing and she certainly felt the strength of his hand on her back. Kate wore hiking shorts and a sweatshirt. The back of the sweatshirt rode up her body as a result of the tumble and she wanted desperately to reach her hand back and pull it down.

Then she felt something even more alarming. Something cold, and hard, like the barrel of a gun was moving up the back of her bare thigh. The man had removed his hand from her back and seemed to be leaning up straight, although Kate did not dare look back at him. The gun inched upward, pushing the leg of her shorts along with it. Another few inches and he'd be at the base of her ass.

The gun moved to the inside of her thigh and Kate held her breath. Closer and closer it came. Then it was edging inside her tight panties and the man was lifting her pant leg with his finger.

"Carlos! Vamos! Traer de vuelta."

The gun was pulled back and Kate was lifted by her arm. Finally she got to see the guerilla—a young, weathered man who, in any other setting, would not get a second glance from anybody. He pushed Kate in front of him and they began the hike back to the main group.

She was somewhat relieved to see Joel, but not excited about the prospects for the successful conclusion of the trip to Ciudad Perdida. The number of guerillas roughly numbered the members of the tour. And they were all armed to the hilt.

Kate also didn't like the looks that she got from the men. She was the type of person who made eye contact with everybody around her. In this case, it was not necessarily a good trait to have.

Quickly, the leader of the gang gave orders in Spanish and the tour group was led off the trail, into the dense woods. Within thirty seconds, nobody coming along the trail would have known anybody else was nearby. Half an hour later, they approached a small cabin and a series of large, military-style tents covering an area smaller than a football field. Some trees had been cleared, but it was still heavily wooded.

The tour group was ordered to sit. The leader of the guerillas entered the cabin and the other rebels dispersed to the tents. Maybe ten minutes later, a man they had not seen before came out of the cabin. He told Kate, Joel, and one of the male tour guides to follow him.

They entered the cabin and the door was closed behind them. Inside, the cabin was bigger than it first appeared. They stood in a large room with a single desk and two old wooden chairs. Through the only window, Kate saw the remainder of the tour group being led around to the back of the cabin. A moment later she heard another door close and voices could be heard coming from another room.

Kate, Joel, and the guide were led into a second room. Behind another desk sat a man in his fifties who appeared to be of some authority. Two armed guerillas stood on either side of the desk. The door was closed and the man rose.

"Why are you in Columbia?" he asked abruptly, looking primarily at Joel and Kate. Despite the heavy Spanish accent, he was easily understood.

"Sightseeing," Joel replied.

The man approached them, his eyes locking in on Kate as he drew closer.

"The entire world is available to you. Why do you come to this part of my country?"

Kate answered, "The 'lost city' is said to be beautiful. We were..."

"Ciudad Perdida, as you call it, was beautiful before the Spaniards stole the gold, killed the natives, and left it for ruin," he interrupted. "Now you come for the drugs."

The last statement left Kate and Joel with looks of total surprise on their faces. It wasn't that they were unaware of the drug trade in Central and South America, but they didn't expect to be accused of it themselves.

"We're on vacation," Joel said with some exasperation. "We have no drugs. Search our bags."

"I'm sure we will, in due time," the man said, circling around Kate. "And your partners. You will all be searched."

The man's eyes did a complete scan of Kate's body. Then he said, "By the way. You can call me Juan, to keep it simple. That's not my real name, but most Americans can handle it."

He stood next to Kate. "You got dirty. Did one of my men do that?"

"He tackled me from behind," she said.

"Why?"

Kate just shrugged.

"Because you ran?"

Kate stared at him without speaking a word.

"Why did you run, my dear?"

"We were being attacked by...," she started to say.

"Attacked? If one of your police officers in the U.S. stopped a drug trafficker, would you say the policeman attacked the man?" Juan said sternly. "You have come to my little part of Columbia and I want to know why?"

When Kate wouldn't answer, Juan grabbed her by the arm and spun her around. Joel jumped towards them but was stopped by the barrel of a gun.

"Keep your hands off her!" Joel shouted.

Juan lightly brushed off the dirt from Kate's sweatshirt, including a seemingly intentional sweep across her breasts. As was her custom while on vacation, Kate did not have a bra on. Juan appeared to notice.

"Relax, my friend. I simply want answers."

Juan's speech was interrupted by a man who entered the room from a side door and motioned for Juan to come over. They exchanged whispered comments before Juan returned to Kate, Joel, and the guide.

"It seems your female companion had some marijuana in her bag," Juan said. "Or so I'm told."

His smirk clearly relayed the inference of unreliability. Before he could continue, a woman's scream echoed through the cabin.

"I believe the search has already begun," Juan said calmly. "Traffickers have been known to hide drugs in the most unusual places. My men have their own way of checking. And it's been a long time since we've had two young women in our camp. It's not a good combination—female and smuggler."

"I am not a trafficker," Kate insisted. "And you have no reason to suspect that I am."

Juan squinted as he looked at her intently. "Are you saying I need a reason to detain you?"

After a pause, he said, "Go ahead and run again, my brave girl."

Kate's face flushed with anger. "What do you want from us?"

Carrie's shrill shrieks took everyone's attention for another few seconds. Each of them had a mental image of what might be taking place just a couple rooms over.

Juan stood in front of Kate. "I want you to take off your clothes."

"I will not!"

Juan looked at one of his guards. He said something in Spanish and then the guard dragged Joel to a chair by the window and handcuffed him to it. The guard pulled down the curtain, took the tour guide, and left the room leaving just Juan, two guards, Kate, and Joel.

"If you want to live, you will do as I say," Juan told Kate.

She didn't move at first, and Juan did not speak. Finally, as the tension was at its highest, Kate untied a sneaker and took it off. Then the other one.

Juan stepped back and watched. Every eye in the room was on Kate as she slowly grabbed the bottom of her sweatshirt and began to pull it up. More and more of her firm abdomen became visible. She paused for just a second at her breasts, and then pulled the sweatshirt over her head.

The only sound was the heavy sweatshirt hitting the floor when Kate let it go. Her blonde hair was ruffled as it hung over her shoulders and nearly to her tits, which stood out large and firm on her chest. Pink nipples jutted out from dark areolas. The exquisite tits belied her age.

Juan ordered her to continue with a single nod.

Kate opened her shorts and dropped them while bending over. She laid them on top of her sweatshirt and stood in the middle of the room in just her panties. This time Juan did not need to do a thing. Kate removed the panties and obediently stood in place.

She could practically feel the eyes of the men in the room survey her naked body. She felt awkward standing with her arms at her side, totally exposed and little she could do about it. Kate instinctively bent one leg slightly over the other, but it didn't help.

Juan slowly began to circle Kate. He stared at every beautiful curve and crack. He admired every square inch of her near perfect skin.

"When I was younger, drug dealers would never think of using such a beautiful woman to smuggle drugs into or out of Columbia. It was a man's world," Juan said. "Now, things are different."

For the first time, Kate noticed the bulge forming in the front of his military-style pants.

"Now we are finding men and women, young and old, and all nationalities being used. I do not trust anyone," Juan continued. "Because of that, you will remain with us for a while. If, in fact, you are not trafficking, I'm sure your government might consider a reasonable ransom for your return."

Juan let the significance of his words sink in for a moment. Then he said, "Now we will go check on the progress in the other room. It may prove a valuable lesson to you, my dear."

He led Kate toward the door and had a guard remove the handcuffs from Joel's chair, only to secure them around both wrists when Joel was standing. The entire group walked down a narrow hall and into a larger room than the one they left.

The scene Kate and Joel first saw caused both of them to stop in their tracks. Carrie was naked, stretched across a wooden table with one guard holding her arms out above her head and another guard standing behind her ass. Carrie's feet barely touched the floor in her doubled-over and stretched out state.

"Separa las piernas!" the guard behind her shouted.

When she didn't move, he roughly pushed her legs apart with both hands. Carrie whimpered softly, having learned that louder complaints only caused more pain. Kate noticed the tell-tale signs of previous strikes across Carrie's bare ass.

The guard pulled down his zipper and drew out a sizeable, stiff cock.

"We must make sure she is not hiding drugs anywhere," Juan said softly to Kate. His grin made her sick, and her eyes quickly shifted back to Carrie.

The guard held Carrie by the waist as he put his cock in place, at the entrance to her cunt. Carrie's sobbing filled the room as the guard looked back at Juan, who nodded.

With one sudden and violent thrust, he entered her. Carrie's scream undoubtedly could be heard all throughout the camp and Kate shuddered at the sound. The man forced his cock into Carrie until his body was pressing against her ass. Then he began a steady fucking that picked up with speed and intensity with each passing minute.

He reached under her and grabbed both tits with his hands and squeezed them tightly. Carrie wept uncontrollably as one guard held her taut and another fucked her from behind.

Then Juan moved around the table and stood next to the guard holding Carrie's arms. Juan took out his cock and motioned the guard to move aside. Juan jerked Carrie's head up by the hair and shoved his cock onto her mouth. He yelled something to her in Spanish and she spread her lips, not knowing what he said, but understanding just the same.

Now she had cocks entering her from both ends and her sense of helplessness was complete. The next couple minutes were agony, and the worst was yet to come.

The guard fucking her was the first to signal his impending orgasm. He groaned, muttered something under his breath, and slammed his body against Carrie with loud smacks. Soon, he tilted his head back and growled loudly as the first of many, many shots of cum poured into Carrie's cunt. Each thrust resulted in another load of sperm flowing out of his cock until Kate and Joel began to see it leak down Carrie's thigh.

Just as he finished, Juan withdrew his cock from Carrie's mouth and stroked it with the clear intent of Cumming on her face. Seconds later, shot after shot of cum began to cover the young woman. It landed in her hair, her eyes, her mouth, and down her neck. The guard pulled her back so the last of Juan's blasts could land on her tits.

As Juan put his cock back inside his pants, he said to everyone in the room, "Do not think we are done with her. This was just a hint of what will come unless you all tell me the truth about why you are in my region."

Carrie was dragged from the room by a guard and the door slammed shut behind them.

"We're tourists, we told you," Joel responded. "Nothing more. Nothing less. Thousands of people visit that site every year. Why are we being held?"

"Luck, perhaps?" Juan said with a shrug. "And I can tell you it is lucky you are alive. My men could have just as easily left you back in the woods never to be found again, with gunshots to the back of the head. But you are here now, safe in my camp."

Juan walked over to Kate and gently ran his fingers across her tits.

"You must be getting thirsty. Let me give you something," he said, taking a water bottle from a nearby table and offering it to Kate.

"No, thank you," she said.

Juan was taken aback. "You refuse?"

Kate suspected the bottle contained something besides fresh water. But which was worse? The bottle or Juan's wrath?

"Take it," he demanded.

Kate grabbed the bottle.

"Drink!"

Kate took a small sip.

"All of it!"

She tilted her head back and, in three gulps, emptied the bottle.

Juan smiled. "Good girl. You'll feel much better soon."

Joel helplessly watched his wife little by little lose her ability to stand on her own over the next sixty seconds. Kate eventually put her hands on the edge of the table used for Carrie's assault. Joel was certain she was next.

Kate lost all awareness of her true surroundings. Visions began to float through her brain, none of which were based on reality.

Juan took her by the arm and held her upright. "She will be fine. It's just the altitude, I'm sure. Do not worry."

Juan put his arm around Kate's waist and began to walk her towards the door. Her unsteady legs wobbled like rubber.

"I will return her to you in due time," Juan told Joel as they exited.

Outside the cabin, Juan led the ever-increasing unsteady Kate, still naked, in the direction of the largest of the camp's tents. When they finally arrived, a guerilla eagerly pulled back the front of the tent to let them in.

A half dozen men instantly rose to their feet and strode toward their leader and his captive.

"She is all yours," he announced in Spanish. "Do not put any bruises on her. We may need to use her as ransom."

The men had heard the speech before. They knew the rules and were thankful for the opportunity to take advantage of their prize catch. For many of them, it had been months without a woman and, for all of them, a lifetime without a woman that looked like Kate.

One rebel took the wobbly blonde from Juan and held her arms behind her to present her luscious body to the group. One by one they approached her and started to fondle her tits, pussy and ass. Kate saw only dark shapes, without form or features. Then their tongues attacked her and she felt electricity flowing through her like never before. Everywhere on her body something was touching her and sending shockwaves through her. The rush of new sensations only worsened the effects of the drug. She was totally oblivious to the truth.

Her tits were licked, sucked, and pinched. Her nipples were pulled and bitten. Her pussy was rubbed and probed. Her ass was squeezed until it was red.

Then one man was naked, followed by another, and another. Cocks were stroked, rubbed against Kate's body, and stuck between her legs. Laughter that Kate could hear but not comprehend filled the tent. Words she wouldn't have understood anyway floated through her head.

She was placed on her back on the sturdiest of the simple beds. Kate wallowed in her illusory world as one rebel after another took their turn with her. She was hypnotized by their appearance above her body and the sounds they made, and Kate tried to comprehend what it was that was piercing the space between her legs.

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