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Jungle Nymph Spurned

Roaring in fury, Oxcacier flung her from him as he struggled to his feet. The nymph landed on her feet a few yards away. Smiling, she spoke. “Hello man.”

Oxcacier drew his sword. At the sight of steel, she snapped into a defensive position. Oxcacier appraised her, watching her closely as she began stalking around him. She was smaller than he’d reckoned. At full height she would just barely reach his chest. Then he gasped. She had four arms!

Twenty long, red fingernails glistened in the jungle light. Her sharp, white teeth grinned between dark green lips. Glistening straight hair cascaded down her back. Between her tall legs a tiny black g-string scarcely served any modest purpose. Two small triangles clung to her bust, the nipples pouting cheekily through the taut material.

“Do you desire me, man?” She smiled. “I have beautiful breasts. I’ll show you them, if you ask me.”

Oxcacier choked. Circling, she edged imperceptibly closer.
“Ask me to show you my breasts, man.”
“If you want to show me so much, why don’t you?”
“It is forbidden me to do so without your express desire, man.” She laughed merrily.
“Forbidden?” Oxcacier was confused. “Who forbids it?”
She laughed again. “It is also forbidden me to refuse your express desire to see my breasts, man.”

Oxcacier whirled his sword as she tried to step closer. Hissing, she jumped back.
“I can see enough of your breasts already,” Oxcacier commented dryly, stalling for time.
“They are more beautiful underneath, man. More beautiful than you can imagine. Ask me to show them to you, man.”
Oxcacier said nothing.
“Are they not voluptuous enough for you, man?” As she spoke, her bosom heaved, enlarging before his eyes. The clinging material tautened against the strain, but it did not break. “It can never break man,” she added, smiling delightfully. The sweet curves hung generously low on her chest. “Ask to see my breasts, man. It is forbidden me to refuse.”

“I will not!” Oxcacier shouted loudly. The nymph sprang forward. Swinging his sword in a fierce arc, he sliced a gash on her leg. She cried aloud in pain, but the cut did not slow her. Crashing against him, she knocked him off balance. Flinging her arms around his back, her legs hit the ground, supporting them both. Hissing fiercely, she bit into his lip, fingernails tearing through his tunic and flesh. He screamed in agony. Fighting to free himself of her embrace, he lost his grip on his sword. The blade shattered against a rock with a shrill clatter.

Previously, Jungle Nymph · Next time, Passing of Oxcacier
Sunday, September 23, 2001


Thursday, May 27, 2004, Ben wrote…
Part two of three. You might almost think Oxcacier has a chance.

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