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Jenny Polo Book 3: Hell in Hollow Earth by Adriana Arden

EXTRACT FOR
Jenny Polo Book 3: Hell in Hollow Earth 
(Adriana Arden)


Excerpt from Hell In Hollow Earth

Chapter One

 

Jenny gaped in disbelief at the huge airship with the encircled swastika on its side as it glided over the steaming jungle. 

What was it doing here?  Where was here?

Then there came flashes and cracks from the windows of its gondola.  Its crew were firing down at something beneath it.  Even as she watched, several small objects trailing streamers of smoke in their wake dropped from the gondola into the jungle.  A moment later there came several bangs and flashes, and clouds of orange smoke rose up through the trees.  They were throwing flares and grenades into the jungle.

Then, not a hundred metres away from Jenny, eight or ten men and women, dressed in furs and loincloths, burst out of the cover of the trees ahead of the drifting smoke.  The woman had simple animal skin bags slung over shoulders while the men carried bows and spears.  While a group of four women kept on running, the men fired arrows and threw their spears up the airship.  It was a futile gesture as it was beyond their range, and the missiles only fell back harmlessly amongst the trees.  More flares and grenades were dropped from the airship and burst amongst the men. 

Some were knocked down and lay crumpled on the ground, while the others fell back, shouting at the running women. Jenny gasped in horror and helpless anger, clenching her fists.  They were slaughtering them before her eyes, and there was nothing she could do about it! 

The fleeing women were heading in her direction.  Perhaps they could reach cover before they were also cut down.

The drone of the airship’s engines suddenly increased in pitch as it surged forward after the fleeing women and then swung round above them.   Jenny thought they were going to attack them as well, but instead an object on the end of a heavy rope uncoiled from the back of the gondola and dropped down in front of them.  It looked to be a bundle of half a dozen large curved hooks spaced one above the other and angled outwards in different directions.

Whatever it was, it had a strange effect on the women.  They screamed and clapped their hands over their faces and tried to run on.  But after only a few paces, they stumbled to a halt, swaying and clenching their fists and then clawing at their simple clothes, as if in the grip of some terrible internal struggle.  Then they sobbed and turned and ran back towards the device which was dragging about on the ground. 

One of the men who had been knocked down by a grenade blast shook his head and picked himself up off the ground.  Seeing what was happening, he dashed towards the group and snatched up one of the women and threw her over his shoulder and carried her away.  Strangely, she seemed to be kicking and screaming frantically, as if she did not want to be rescued. 

The other three women threw themselves onto the strange device.  They seemed to be trying to climb the rope, straddling the trailing hooks as they did so.  Their hips were grinding frantically.  Jenny gaped at them in astonishment.  What were they doing? 

The airship’s engines droned louder once again and it began to rise, dragging the women on the end of the hooked rope across the rough ground as if they were fish on a line.

And then Jenny caught a whiff of the scent.

She had never smelt anything like it before.  It was like the perfume of some exotic plant.  It was powerful and strange and wonderful and exciting and deeply arousing.  She felt her nipples pricking up and her pussy growing wetter.  She felt dizzy and desperate.  She had to find its source.  She had to immerse herself in it… drown herself in it!  Then she realized it was coming from the dangling line.

Without thinking, Jenny scrambled her feet and sprinted for the line as it trailed across the ground with the three sobbing women still clinging to it.  With a gasp and a lunge, she caught hold of its last few dangling hooks, which were about the size of small anchors, and hauled herself up on them.

The hooks were made of some light strong material coated in black rubber.  Along the inside curves they had projecting phallic-shaped prongs.  They glistened and reeked of the wonderful scent, as did the rope on which they were hung.  Perfectly naturally, as it seemed to Jenny, the tip of the hook she had straddled passed between her legs and up the cleft of her buttocks, holding her tight, while its inner prong slipped between her pussy lips and slid deep up inside her.  She clung to the rope, hugging it to her, rubbing the hard nipples of her breasts against it.

Jenny sobbed and screamed in delight, not caring she was being kicked by the frantically flailing legs of the women above her who were, she dimly realized, also mounted and impaled upon their own hooks.  Hot raw pleasure filled her loins.  She squeezed her thighs about the hook, jerking and twisting frantically to impale herself deeper, running her hands up and down the heavy rope as it rasped between her naked breasts, enveloped in the invisible cloud of amazing perfume.  She would not have let it go of it at that moment for all the riches of the world!

She was being carried up above the treetops.  The airship was ascending even as the dangling hook rope, with its four female catches, was being wound in.

Apparently oblivious to their altitude, the three native women were tearing at their clothes, shedding their simple animal skins in an attempt to press their flesh more closely about the hooks and rub themselves more intimately against their suspending rope.  Discarded clothes fluttered away over the jungle.  Jenny saw slithering naked thighs and jiggling breasts and clenching buttocks twisting and jerking above her head.   Drips were falling on her hair like rain from the inflamed clefts that squeezed and ground and sucked on the hook prongs. 

They were actually screwing themselves on the end of a giant air-born fishing line, on the hooks of which they had first gleefully impaled themselves.  Jenny knew this in a tiny isolated corner of her mind, and yet she could not stop joining in the mad passion.

With a shriek of delight and despair, one woman came, and then the next and then the third, all clinging onto the twisting, twirling, swaying rope in a frenzy of desperate desire.

And then Jenny sobbed and jerked her hips and clenched the rope to her and felt her own loins burst as she climaxed two hundred metres up in the air, so that her expelled juices fell like rain over the tree tops far below.

* * *

The next thing Jenny knew, the hooked line with its human catch was being winched up through an open trapdoor on the underside of the airship’s gondola into some kind cage which was set behind the cockpit.  The winch mechanism was suspended above the cage, which was surrounded by a glassed-in walkway of lightweight metal rails and perforated floor panels, on which four men stood holding poles with paddle-like tips.  They were wearing old-fashioned olive drab desert uniforms, with caps, shirts, shorts and ankle boots.  Ringed swastika medallions hung from their necks and rank markings decorated their epaulettes and collars.

‘All right, we’ve got them… close the cage!’ one of them called out above the drone of the engines.

A grating was slid under the kicking feet of the freshly caught women: cutting them off from the terrible drop below and confining them within the cage.  The winch was reversed and they were dropped onto the new floor: flopping about in confusion, dizzy from their inexplicable orgasms and impaled on the alluring hooks, which they still clenched between their slippery thighs.

The incredible arousing aroma was heavy in her nostrils and Jenny continued to keep hold of the rope, but her orgasm had taken the edge off its urgency, at least for a few minutes.  She made herself look around.

The cage was divided in half, with the other section aft of the one she was in.  Two more women, resembling those Jenny shared the hooked line with, were in its other half: naked, collared, gagged and cuffed face-outwards against the bars.

The men peered in through the bars, inspecting their new catch with broad grins.  Their leader declared gruffly.  ‘That’s all we can expect to find today.  The rest will have scattered by now.’ He turned to the men seated at the front of the gondola.  ‘The catch is secured, Captain.’

It penetrated Jenny’s dizzy mind that they were speaking in German, but she understood them perfectly.  He had called the pilot “Hauptmann”, which she had translated in her mind as “Captain”.

‘Thank you, Sergeant Herman,’ the captain replied. 

He had actually said “Unteroffizier”, but it translated as “Sergeant”.

The Captain said to his co-pilot.  ‘Signal Neuschwanstein:  The Heimdall is returning to base with six fresh little fish.’

As the co-pilot turned to the old-fashioned looking radio apparatus, the airship swung round to a new heading.

‘All right, get the hooks out of them…’ Herman said.

The men pushed the poles there were caring through the cage bars and began to jab and slap their paddle shaped ends on to Jenny and the other three women. The contrast with the rampant lust the terrible sexual hooks induced could not have been greater.  Each paddle slap felt like being beaten by a bunch of stinging nettles, but tenfold worse.  They screamed and sobbed and thrashed about wildly, letting go of the fishing line rope.  The men, taking advantage of their confusion, reached between the bars and grabbed them by the hair and pulled them off the string of hooks. 

Jenny felt the phallic plug being torn out of her hot dripping vagina which clung to it desperately, only coming free with a sucking pop.  Suddenly she was empty, filled only with a terrible sense of loss…

The pain paddles slapped across her breasts, setting them burning and shocking her out of her irrational carnal despair into a fresh hell.

Dragged up onto their feet with many squeals of pain, the women were prodded into the rear half of the cage.  A barred door was slid across, sealing them in with the two captives bound against the rear wall of the cage.

The men pulled the remaining scraps of clothing and simple bangles and strings of beads off them. The women were wailing and sobbing as they were manhandled, struggling feebly.

‘No… Please… do not defile us as well…’

They were speaking in some other language that was not English or German, but Jenny also understood them perfectly.

‘Stop babbling in that heathen tongue!’  Sergeant Herman snapped, flailing about with his pain paddle and smacking it against bare flesh until the women screamed.

Freed from the fishing hooks and still smarting from the blows of the pain paddles, Jenny had a few seconds of lucid thought.

They did not speak the same language.  They had not yet singled her out as different from the local women, nor had the local women shown any surprise at the sight of her.  With her tanned skin, mud splattered body and bedraggled hair it seemed that she could pass for a native.  But should she speak to the airship crew in German?  And say what?

Then the opportunity was lost. 

They pulled Jenny and the other women face forward against the cage bars, so their bare glossy breasts were squeezed out between them.  There was an array of metal collars hanging from chains at about head height on the inside of the cage bars.  The collars incorporated hinged and sprung hoops that folded down across their front halves which had rubber plugs in their middles.  Dangling from short chains hung on the other side of the collars from the hoops were sets of metal cuffs.  They snapped the collars about the women’s necks and lifted and slid back the hoops so that the rubber balls were pushed between their teeth, stifling their squeals of protest.  The men then twisted their arms behind their backs and snapped the dangling cuffs about their wrists.  Now the tension on the collar chains, which were fastened to the bars above their heads, held in them place.

The men rested their pain paddles and grinned, looking their prizes over with satisfaction.  They pinched and slapped the row of bare breasts protruding out through the bars and probed wet and swollen pubic slots with their fingers.  The women’s sobbed and moaned around their gags and tried to pull away.  The cage bars rattled but there was no escape from this crude handling.  Through bleary, fearful eyes, Jenny now noticed that the native women only had sparse pubic hair, so her bare mound did not seem that different.

‘All right, lads, the officers had their turn earlier,’ Sergeant Herman said.  ‘Now it is our chance… Sergeant’s first up, of course…  I’ll have this one…’

And he took hold of a fistful of Jenny’s hair through the bars.  He was a powerfully built man with close-cropped hair and a heavy jaw and dark cold eyes, who regarded her with lustful contempt.

With his free hand, he opened his flies.  A large penis sprang out, stiffening in anticipation.  Then he drew out a small brown bottle from his pocket and sprinkled little of its contents over his shaft. 

And again, Jenny smelled the wonderful aroma that had lured her to the fishing line.

Suddenly her nipples were standing up hard and her pussy was wetting once more in desperate need.  She had to be filled again!  She whimpered pitifully, her eyes growing wide with pleading. He laughed and reached through the bars and clasped her hot bare buttocks and ground her hips against the side of the cage, even as he thrust his cock through them into her. 

Jenny sobbed and almost fainted from pleasure.  His living cock was inside her burning with the strange potion that filled her and she sobbed in helpless ecstasy, even as her throbbing nipples rasped across the front of his shirt.

On either side of her, the other men had chosen their women.  Their cocks were also out and anointed with the contents of small brown bottles.  More of the pungent aroma filled the air.  The fear and panic of captive women melted into desperate desire.  Olive breasts capped by hard brown nipples were pushed outwards in frantic displays of need.  More cocks plunged between bars and penetrated suddenly willing and desperate pussies and the primitive grunts and groans of coupling filled the cabin.

Even as Sergeant Herman rammed his cock up into her vagina and she squeeze tight about it, Jenny knew it was wrong and nonsensical, but she totally helpless in the passion that enveloped them all.  He did not need to hold her against him.  She would grind herself onto the bars and push herself through them and impale herself even deeper onto him if she could until… ahhh! 

Another terrifying, wondrous orgasm overwhelmed her and then sucked her into a warm pink pit of satiated lust.