This story is fantasy and all characters are 18 or above. This story contains bondage, torture and sexual theme…not intended for minors
Anja awoke from a fitful sleep, she stared at the sun and the new dawning morning knowing that this day would be like no other. Today the proud jungle queen would allow herself to be captured by one of her mortal enemies. As Anja rose and stretched her thin muscular body towards the new day she shuddered to think of all the torments and tortures that she was sure were in store for her. Looking below she quickly maneuvered down from her small tree house to the river below.
As she moved naked along the bank had anyone seen her they would have been in awe. She had a small athletic frame, a runner’s body with nice perky breasts with small rosebud nipples, and a tiny muscular bottom. Her face was beautiful with sparkling green eyes all topped with a mane of silky blond hair. She stared briefly at her body before she jumped into the crystal clear water and began to swim. Her mind was clouded with the thoughts of her fate later that day, when she would soon be taken prisoner by one of the most dangerous tribes in the jungle. The Wakambas were a tribe of head hunters and slave traders that lived down river; they worshiped primitive gods in nature and their religious ceremonies involved torture and human sacrifice to their gods. Anja had done battle and with them many times when Wakambas raiding parties came to abduct slaves from the peaceful villages. Anja had been forced to kill several of their warriors, one of whom was the husband of their evil witch doctor, Mala. Mala had sworn revenge against Anja. Anja was filled with dread at the thought that soon she would be in the clutches of the evil redheaded demon. Her ability to cause pain and suffering was well known throughout the jungle. Anja had learned that the Wakambas tribe had been experiencing the terrible drought for some time. Mala had told her people that the only way to end the drought was to sacrifice Anja. The Wakambas had kidnapped the children of a silent valley tribe and threatened to kill the children unless Anja agreed to exchange herself for the children and become their prisoner. Their demands had been quite clear, even detailing how Anja was to be tied and what clothing she was to wear. She would be forced to dress as a slave, not the mighty protector of the silent valley and upper lands.
Anja stared at G-string type panties and the tiny loincloth that she would be forced to wear and sighed. Anja stared at the tops of the jungle trees and tried to eat small bites of fruit. Her stomach disagreed but she knew that she probably would not have food for some time. Anja heard the drums from a far distance and knew that it was time. She squeezed into the goatskin G-string; it was very tight and very tiny. She next slid the small loincloth over her hips, it too was very tight and as she looked behind herself she saw that barely covered her round muscular bottom. Anja was to appear topless, realizing that this was the beginning of her humiliation.
Anja moved slowly down the path to the large clearing near the river. As she walked, she thought of her life as the queen and protector of the Silent Valley and Upper Lands. As a child she had been taken in by the shaman of the Silent Valley and raised as her daughter. When she turned 16 she was transformed by magical rite; she now had the strength of three grown men she and was faster and able to jump like a cat. Anja’s body now healed itself almost instantly. If Anja was cut, bruised, or burned, she would still feel the pain but her body would heal almost immediately even though the pain did linger. This made her ideal to assume the role of the protector of Silent Valley the Upper Lands.
As Anja entered the clearing she saw Golit, the father of the abducted children, standing with the coil of rope and an animal yolk. Anja sighed again; this is how the Wakambas had ordered her to be bound, yoked like an animal. Golit had shame in his eyes as he started to bind the jungle queen.
“Bind me tight,” Anja said proudly, “as I want no reason for the Wakambas to injure your children; they are watching us now.”
Golit whispered in Anja’s ear. “Remember, the Wakambas will never kill you unless you ask them or beg them to, that is why they torture their victims until they can’t stand the pain anymore. I hope you can hold out; you are truly the jungle queen.” Golit stepped back “We will sing songs about your valor, Anja, queen of the jungle.”
Anja was bound with her arms tied an out to each of her sides. Once Anja was tightly bound the Wakambas warriors appeared at the edge of the clearing. Anja instinctually began to struggle in her bonds. Their leader called out: “On your knees, jungle queen!”
Anja, who had never knelt before her enemy, slowly fell to her knees keeping her head high. Anja smiled as she saw Golit’s children run to his side, then they all vanished into the jungle. Alone surrounded by the Wakambas warriors Anja shouted out: “Wakambas warriors, cowards, stealer of children you will never break the spirit of Anja, the jungle queen!”
The Wakambas warriors laughed loudly as they tied a rope around Anja’s neck.
Their leader mocked her. “You, the jungle queen, now dressed as a slave and soon begging to be sacrificed to our god, will be silent!” With that Anja was gagged with a leather strap and pulled forward. As they started down the path along the river, the leader of the Wakambas warriors produced a small thin split bamboo cane; with it he struck Anja on her round bottom and the back of her thighs. The pain shot through Anja like an explosion. The Wakambas leader shouted you are a sacrifice, you will walk as such. You must walk on your toes like a goat; if we see your heel prints in the sand you will be whipped!”
Anja groaned and began to walk on her toes down the river path. The Wakambas warriors watched and laughed as Anja pranced down the path; Anja’s tiny loincloth bounce up revealing Anja’s tiny round bottom and making it an inviting target for the Wakambas warriors’ canes, small whips and spear tips. As Anja pranced down the path she kept her head high knowing that this was just the beginning and always looking for a way to escape.
When they stopped for the night, Anja’s legs were sore but her bottom was in agony. It had been whipped, caned and poked with the points of spears the entire day.
Anja hoped that she would not be forced to sit; she soon realized that that would not be the case. Anja was forced to kneel as the yoke was removed; her wrists were quickly bound in front and tied to a long rope. This rope was tossed over the tall tree limb and Anja was pulled onto her toes. The Wakambas leader appeared in front of her and with a toothy grin. “Mala has forbidden us from breaking you,” he said. “She wants that pleasure for herself. But she did not say we could not torture you.”
Anja groaned as Wakambas warriors grabbed her legs and began tying ropes around each of her ankle ankles. A piece of bamboo about 3-feet long was tied between her ankles, spreading her legs. Anja’s leather top was removed and small leather strips were tied around each of her perky nipples. Anja’s body was then hoisted up by her wrists until her feet were about 2 feet off the ground. A wicker basket was tied under the bamboo spreader bar attached to Anja’s ankles. Each of the free ends of leather strips tied to Anja’s nipples was tied to the handle of a smaller wicker basket left to dangle from her chest.
Anja groaned under her gag as the men left her hanging and began to gather river rocks. Anja watched as her captors gathered stones from the bank of the river; large and small stones, each man making his own pile and marking each stone. Anja could only imagine what they were planning to do but was sure that she would suffer. Anja watched as the men gathered wood and started a fire.
The Wakambas leader pointed to the fire calling to her. “Fire is my Mala’s favorite way to break a sacrifice; you will spend much time in the fire jungle queen!”
Anja shuddered thinking about being tortured with fire, could she hold out? Anja held her head high, I will not break, she thought. The Watambas men broke out in laughter, watching her defiance.
Anja’s body was slick with sweat, her wrists and nipples throbbed as she watched the Wakambas eat and drink around the campfire. Soon the leader pulled out two colored dice, this caused all the Wakambas man to stare at Anja and laugh. Anja watched as the men began taking turns rolling the dice. She did not know the game but soon found that she was a main part as one of the men rolling the dice stood up, and to the cheers of his comrades he picked up the large river stone from his pile, walked over and, with a smile, placed it in the wicker basket between her ankles. The pain was intense as the Wakambas man walked back to the game. The game went on late into the night. Anja had three large river stones in the lower basket before one of the warriors rolled the score to place a smaller stone in one of the baskets dangling from her tiny nipples. This pain was like an electric jolt to our body then becoming a dull throb. When the game finally ended, Anja had eight river stones stretching her body and four smaller stones in each of the baskets stretching her nipples. Anja was in agony; her body was stretched to the breaking point. By the morning she was completely numb and when she was untied the feeling coming back into her stretched body was almost as agonizing as the torture she experienced during the night. Anja was led to the riverbank, and there she saw two canoes, connected with a bamboo platform. Anja was pulled up and tied spread eagle on top of the platform, then the warriors paddled down the river with their prize.
Anja baked in the hot summer sun as they floated down the river toward the land of the Wakambas she fell into a fitful sleep dreaming of fire and pain. She woke to the sound of drums and shouts as the canoe pulled up to the bank. A large group of Wakambas had gathered on the riverbank and crowded around to look at Anja. Anja was not untied, but the whole bamboo platform was removed from the canoes and she was carried towards the village. Anja’s mind raced, understanding that she was being carried as a sacrifice.
Upon their arrival in the village, Anja was carried around the entire village like a trophy for all to see. When they came to the center of the village, she was quickly untied then retied to a wooden post while a crowd gathered around. Anja watched as the crowd parted to reveal Mala.
Mala walked forward towards Anja and smiled. She had fiery red hair in short dreadlocks and sported numerous symbols and runes showing that she possessed great magic. Anja lifted her head proudly and this caused Mala’s smile to broaden. “Good,” she hissed in Anja’s ear. “You are very strong, it will take a long time to break you; that makes me very happy. You took from me and now I’m going to take from you. I’m going to take your mind, your body and your spirit!” Mala laughed. “You will spend much time in my fires jungle queen.”
At this Anja’s confidence faltered but she kept her head high. “You will not break me,” she stated clearly.
Mala turned to the crowd. “She is the reason why the rain does not fall; she is the reason why the gods have abandoned us!” she shouted. Anja’s pain will bring the gods blessings. Anja’s torment will make things as they were before!”
With this the crowd cheered, thirsty for Anja’s blood.
Mala raised her hands and the crowd instantly fell silent. “Warriors, men of the Wakambas; you may enjoy the suffering of the jungle queen, but the gods have decreed that no man would torture Anja, only the women of the Wakambas will break the jungle queen.”
As the crowd erupted in cheers again, Anja and thought I must be strong.