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Originally intending to take a day trip to the jungle to forage, Chelsea wound up getting lost during the oncoming sunset. Scared and in unfamiliar surroundings she found herself slowly beginning to panic. Images of large dangerous predators intruded her thoughts whilst she attempted to navigate back to the jungle entrance bridge.
Overwhelmed, she convinced herself that the possibility of danger was simply a harsh paranoia, but little did she know a pair of eyes watched her every move from the looming trees. Branches rustled and twitched, the foliage on the ground crunched under her weight. Nightfall was setting in, her stomach dropping with the sun. Daylight was fleeting, that couldn't possibly be a good thing.
Hastening her pace, she walked briskly, picking up speed as the sky darkened. A sudden flash of movement passed in her peripheral vision, whipping her head quickly, she saw just a lemur scurry up overhead. The striped pattern of its tail was what she caught. Seeing the small animal calmed her. It was no leopard.
"It was nothing... only a lemur." Chelsea sighed to herself. "Nothing's following me...oh, where's the path back to town, though?"
The branches over her head rustled and moved again and that creeping feeling snuck up on her again, like something was watching her every move. Praying for another lemur to leap from the tree, Chelsea held her breath and carefully began walking backwards, eyes glued to the scenery. Nothing emerged and she let loose a shaking breath, assuming it were only another small critter hiding from the foreign creature walking the jungle: her.
Turning around, she carried on walking when a heavy thud of weight hitting the ground nearly stopped her heart. Wasting no time, Chelsea bolted in to a full panicked sprint without a clue as to what was running behind her. She didn't need to know, she simply assumed it had big nasty teeth. The distinct sound of feet pounding the jungle floor with enormous strength reached Chelsea's ears as she desperately willed her legs to carry her farther, between densely crowded tree trunks and shrubbery.
Adrenaline-laced blood rushing through her ears deafened Chelsea to the sound of her own thoughts, focusing solely on the approaching threat. Every sense she processed was on overdrive. Leaves and twigs snapping under her shoes, she frantically ran through shrubs, ducking thorny vines and understandably running for her life.
Taking a sharp turn around trees she attempted to lose her pursuer. Heavy, animalistic breathing filled the surrounding air as the oncoming threat seemingly lost their footing on the large protruding root she's passed. Skin set aflame in fear upon hearing the pursuing danger pick up speed, tears began leaking from her eyes as she began envisioning her inevitable capture.
"I'm going to die!" She wept to herself, her strained lungs physically preventing her from sobbing. "Oh, my Goddess I'm going to die!"
No longer concerned with dodging multiple shrubs, thorny vines and switches scraped and scratched her soft downy skin as she ran, red droplets slowly oozing from the tender wounds on her face, chest, legs and arms. The blood swirled downwards across the alabaster canvas that was her flesh, it drying against the wind like fresh paint.
"Please, no!" the brunette pleaded to the jungle.
A strong gust of air approached her. Assuming it to be her predator closing in on her, she briefly accepted her oncoming death. When it didn't reach her, she then began to mentally pray for relief but blindly ran in to a low hanging protruding branch. The branch hit Chelsea square in the chest, effectively knocking the wind out of her before snapping back and flinging her through the air. Chelsea hit the ground bluntly, like deadweight.
The perimeter of her vision blackened from the drastic drop in adrenaline as she lay there disoriented and dizzy. Her blood pressure plummeted. The night sky's stars shimmered down on her calmingly, almost surreal in Chelsea's altered state of mind. Disorientated and exhausted of everything she had.
Ears barely registered the sound of leaves rustling near her. Convinced she was finally going to die, she shut her eyes readying herself for the harsh pain of fangs tearing through her. Her end was here and there was nothing that could be done. Only, as a tall shadow was cast over her, there was no animal. Something touched her... they were...fingers?
Rough fingertips glided over the skin of her face and she opened her blue, teary eyes to find an extremely large built man kneeling beside her. He traced the hollow of her cheekbone, wandering up to the curve of her throbbing temples. As she lost consciousness, she felt herself being lifted from the ground and pulled in to a comfortable warmth.
The large man wordlessly held her unconscious form to his broad, tanned chest, carrying her off in to the deep dark jungle. Navigating on bare foot, he made his way to a hut built high off the ground. The petite brunette's body laid slack over his shoulder, handmade ladder creaking under his weight while he climbed up to the hut in the trees.
The small living space was primitively furnished. Chelsea's body was limp and lifeless as she slept in her exhausted, coma-like state. Setting her down upon a bed of warm furs the jungle man began searching for something amongst his belongings.
xxxx
Not more than a couple hours later, Chelsea awoke to the passing of the midnight hour. The hut was lit by a small fire set in a clay bowl filled with dried grass and sticks, the flame's shadows dancing across the walls. She registered the feeling of soft fur under her palms as she sat up in to a sitting position. She startled as a hand reached out and held her bicep. Chelsea whipped her head aside and lost the ability to produce sound upon realizing whom she was in the presence of.
The large man knelt by her, looking down honey- brown eyes at her. Soft flesh held in his fist, he squeezed her lightly. His eyes took on a mildly fascinated stare as he inspected her. Fingers released her arm and began trailing the bloody streaks across her face, moving downwards to her throat, collar bone and eventually cleavage. Too scared to move she unknowingly held her breath as she waited to see what he would do.
Unknowing if he was savage or not, she still feared for her safety. The jungle man pulled his hand back but had nothing to say. Moments of silence passed as they held eye contact. Finally, he spoke.
"Shea." his voice broke the silence, deep and firm.
Chelsea thought she had imagined it and made a noise of confusion.
"Eh?"
Eyes fixed on her expectantly, he spoke once more. Louder, and more assertive.
"Shea. Me Shea."
Blinking she looked at him in amazement, nearly forgetting to respond.
"You...talk." she whispered in amazement. "You're...wow."
"Me Shea." he repeated. "You?"
The Jungle man, now known as "Shea", insisted he get Chelsea's name. For some reason, it meant so much to him.
"I-I...I'm Chelsea" she stammered, still perplexed at the situation unraveling. "I'm... just Chelsea. Yeah."
Shea stared at her face before looking down at her chest. Reaching out he tugged at the hem of her shirt trying to remove it. She resisted what he was doing and panicked, feeling her personal space was being encroached on. Shea's face remained impassive as he assertively pulled the shirt from her body, leaving her upper torso bare. Fear returned tenfold as Chelsea's chest was bore to the open air.
"Could I have that back...please?"
Shaking his head no, Shea turned and retrieved a bowl with water. It had a cloth in it. He showed it to Chelsea.
"Clean wounds." Shea explained. "Shea do."
Chelsea tried to cover her chest but Shea pried her arms away, then pulled the cloth from the bowl of water and wrung it slightly. He pressed the soaked cloth against her ample firmly. Flinching, Chelsea looked down at her bosom. The man started washing away the dried blood and dirt from her tender skin with a surprisingly gentle touch
"Blood...blood no good."
A large smear would not wipe away so Shea dipped the cloth in the bowl once more but did not wring it out. The sopping wet fabric was pressed to her cleavage causing Chelsea to gasp at the contact. The water he washed her with was a bit chilled from the evening air and dripped down the swells and valley of her breasts. Stray drops of water streaming down to her nipples, she felt extremely exposed.
Chelsea's nipples hardened as a passing draft feathered over the wet pink mounts and she struggled to keep the oncoming blush from consuming the entirety of her face. Seeming not to notice, Shea calmly continued washing her. He washed her shins and knees, then brought the cloth to her face.
Wiping in steady circles, Shea washed away all the smudged dried residue from her. Once finished, the materials were calmly set aside. Shea leaned very closely to Chelsea's face. Timidly, she leaned away as he invaded her personal space further.
"That's very close..." she advised him, swallowing with a dry mouth. "Could you-"
Chelsea's hand slipped from under her and she fell backwards on to the nest of furs she was sitting on. The make-shift bed brushed luxuriously soft against the skin of her bare back. Shea slowly crawled on top of her, observing her with sharp focused eyes. His focus was unwavering, more so his interest was brazen. Chelsea curiously glanced down from his bare chest and blushed when seeing all he wore beneath the waist was a simple loin cloth... that was tented suspiciously.
Having such a large man towering over her was absolutely terrifying. Though massive in stature, the jungle man showed no signs of violent intention. If anything he just looked curious. What did intimidate Chelsea though was the jungle man's very clear arousal. And, the enormous strength he obviously possessed.
Bringing her eyes up to meet his, she felt her blood run cold. The light of the hut's small fire crackled behind him. Torso casting a wide shadow across the delicate pale skin of her exposed upper body, Shea loomed over her and Chelsea tried shrinking in to herself reflexively. Her muscles ached and she briefly wondered how she would escape.
Expecting the worst as Shea's body began moving in, Chelsea held her breath while praying that Shea would not act on bodily impulse. Bracing herself to strike the instant he made his move, she waited...but nothing. Shea simply stared at her curiously, blinking his almond shaped eyes slowly. Shifting her own eyes nervously she leaned up on her elbows, all too aware of the way her breasts protruded from her chest and how interested in them Shea was.
"I'll go sit over there and you can stay right here."
She crawled back slightly, wincing as she moved her thigh.
Shea responded by inching closer. Immensely frightened she frantically crawled back further, squeaking as she felt large hands take hold of her thigh. So much for fighting back. Glancing down she noticed a large tear in her jeans, the edges marred with blood.
"This very strange." he commented, rubbing the material of her denim jeans under his palms.
"E-Excuse me?" She asked, completely taken back.
Shea patted her jean clad thighs affirmatively to make his point.
"This. What this? What animal come from? Skin? Or fur?"
It dawned on Chelsea that Shea was talking about her pants. Of course, he thought they were strange. He was wearing a damn loincloth and probably had no freaking clue what denim was.
"Well um, these are clothes. Like skin? " Chelsea explained, gesturing to his loincloth. "Like that...sorta. Not skin though."
He nodded in understanding before trying to figure out to remove them. He tugged on the edges of her pant legs but Chelsea pushed him away with her uninjured leg. He tried once more to grab it but Chelsea struggled against him. Shea swiftly caught her leg and held it still, frown creasing his lips.
"More cuts." he insisted, pointing at her bloody thigh. "Need clean. If no clean cut get dirty and no heal. Pain long time."
Chelsea ceased her struggling and attempted to roll the cuff of her pants up to her thigh but they were far too tight and stopped below her knee. Figuring that she had no other option, she reluctantly unbuttoned her jeans and tried to wiggle them off but winced as the material dragged across her open cut. Shea took over and managed to maneuver them off her more smoothly once she motioned for him to tug from the ankles.
Grabbing the bowl and cloth from before, he kneeled between her legs and dipped the cloth in water. Excess water was wrung out directly on to her cut. Of course, it was painful.
"Ow! Hey!"
Shea said nothing and began wiping away the top layer of dried blood around the edges of her wounds. The cut itself wasn't life threatening but clearly needed first aid. Wetting the cloth once more he placed it directly over the wound where the broken skin still bled slightly. Chelsea's leg jutted up as she voiced her discomfort more aggressively. Shea reacted immediately, pushing forward with his body weight to still her... problem was his bulge pressed in to her as well.
She freaked out.
"No!" She yelped, trying to push him away again. "Oh Goddess no-"
Unfortunately for her, Shea was solid. He looked at her confused as to why she was suddenly so afraid. Chelsea lay there in only her simple white panties, panicking at her indecency. The wild man although physically aroused, was unphased by her nudity. His evident erection was simply a natural bodily response, one he actually didn't understand. A creaking sound caught their attention before he could figure out why Chelsea was so upset.
Shea automatically recognized the sound as someone climbing the ladder. Rustling of leaves could be heard and a male figured emerged in the doorway. An average height, slender older man with dark skin and wild straight course hair had climbed up the ladder to the hut. He entered carrying a long spear and basket of fish, chewing a piece of wild grass. His large nose red from years of sun exposure crinkled in confusion as he slid his eyes over to Chelsea who covered her pale chest, arms tightly wrapped around herself. Shea simply turned and greeted the man.
"Hello, Wada." he said, nonchalantly. "Bring food? Hungry."
Wada nodded once and grunted as he placed the basket of freshly caught fish down. Walking over to where Shea and Chelsea were, he stood over them, tapping the blunt end of his spear against Chelsea's leg softly. The wooden material inches away from her attended wound.
"What happen? Who this?" he questioned, chewing his grass idly.
"See her outside. Look sort of different so I follow. " Shea replied. "She run, hit branches. Then fall. Has cuts. Take here to help."
Wada nodded and looked back at Chelsea, tapping his chest with a firm hand.
"Wada." he introduced himself simply. "You?"
Chelsea shook anxiously but answered him. She told him her name. The elder grunted in approval. Shifting a curious glance towards the younger man, he nodded his head down in the direction of Chelsea.
"This mate?" he questioned simply.
"Mate?" Shea asked.
"She woman." Wada stated matter a factly. "Woman good, woman make baby."
Chelsea's blue eyes flew wide open.
"WHAT!?"
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