Prologue: The Delta Source

It was the archaeological find of the decade, that much was certain, but even more exciting was that the new manuscript uncovered in the Mediterranean could very well lead to the find of the century. The curious piece of parchment had turned up in the rubble of a port that was heavily bombed in the war, preserved in remarkable condition and written in ancient greek, detailing all kinds of historical sites, many that had been discovered in the modern day, but many more that seemingly hadn’t yet… The centrepiece of everything the document hinted at was some kind of lost city, one that seemed to match a number of ancient legends. Atlantis, the seven cities of gold, even Shangri-La, it seemed to suggest that all these stories were about the same place, somewhere lost to time, filled with riches, but most importantly somewhere very real. Although the manuscript offered no location for the lost city, it hinted at a number of potential leads, and seemed almost manufactured to fuel the excitement of anyone who laid eyes on it. The document was signed with only a single greek letter to identify the author, and so it came to be referred to as the delta source.

All of this was recited one gloomy afternoon to the occupants of a lecture hall in the Harvard school of archaeology, all of whom listened intently to each word, their minds already racing with ideas of untold wealth and fame. Most prominent in the room were four women, all accomplished in their own right, who had been embroiled in something of a rivalry in recent years. They were the biggest names in the field at the time, in part due to their unique and storied backgrounds, as well as their physical beauty.

Elsa Reinhardt was the oldest and most distinguished of the four. A German woman, now semi-retired, she had made her name a few decades earlier in the heyday of archaeology, diving into Egyptian tombs with the best of them and showing the world that it wasn’t just a boy’s club. The allure of the delta source had drawn her out of the lecturing circuit, ready to go back into the field and teach all these new kids a thing or two about how the old guard did things.

Rebecca Wheeler was the youngest, an American grad student and something of a prodigy, known for her incredible intellect. She made headlines a few years earlier when she translated a number of ancient Sumerian tablets that had been puzzled over for centuries and presumed indecipherable, all as part of an undergrad project. She was already thinking of the best way to tackle this new find, and indeed the community was eager to see what her mind would make of it.

Abbey McNamara was a young British heiress, making up for her lack of an academic background with the vast resources that were available to her. She had turned a lot of heads digging up a seemingly endless supply of ancient pottery, jewels and other treasures around the Ionian sea using her family’s wealth to fund her trips. She was known for always appearing prim and pristine in the photos she took with her finds, and for her controversial habit of keeping them for her own private collection. If she had found the delta source she certainly wouldn’t be sharing the news around.

Silvia Salgado was newer to the scene, a young veteran from her home country’s civil war, where she fought to overthrow her people’s corrupt government. After the uprising she led a heavily armed expedition deep into the Amazon, chasing the last of the old regime’s supporters. She never found them, but instead she stumbled upon a yet undiscovered Aztec ruin that redrew the known boundaries of that ancient empire. She had gotten a taste for discovery, making a few other big finds in Central America, often using force to navigate her way around the locals.

There was no shortage of chatter in the lecture hall once the presentation had finished, but surrounding the four women in particular were a swarm of questions and theories, which quickly evolved into more concrete plans. Everyone assumed they would be conducting expeditions to search for the lost city, but so far it seemed like the women were on somewhat different tracks.

“I think the clearest lead here is this ‘divine edifice’ in Nepal that has some kind of connection with the lost city. The description seems to match a temple that my team was looking for a while ago. I think this might just be enough to track it down.” Elsa theorised out loud, answering a question from a nearby colleague.

“Ha! No wonder you’ve been chasing your tails for so many years, if you take every mention of a divine edifice to mean there’s a magical temple waiting around the corner.” Abbey cut in, overhearing the conversation from a few rows up, flicking her blonde hair over her shoulder. Elsa shot her a dirty look and was satisfied leaving it there, but now the lecture hall had gone quiet and it seemed like the crowd might have been expecting a response.

“Apologies, you must be unfamiliar with the concept of actually looking for something. Sometimes you have to get off your daddy’s yacht in the Mediterranean and actually, you know, look.” She returned, stunning the crowd into silence with a few scattered gasps. Abbey’s face contorted into a mix of shock and fury, but she couldn’t muster up a response in time.

“She’s right though, nearly every reference to that temple has been debunked. The odds that it exists are basically nothing.” Rebecca chimed in, much to the excitement of the local crowd.

“Ugh, I hate when the child genius agrees with me. I think I need a shower.” Abbey muttered. Rebecca stood up in a show of offence, eliciting the same gesture from Elsa and Abbey. The room was about to erupt into a chorus of arguments when a piercing laugh cut through the noise, directing all heads to Silvia, sitting at the back with her boots up on the seat in front of her, a gang of stern looking men flanking her on either side. She stopped laughing, then after a moment waved the attention away dismissively in a show of nonchalance.

“No, please, keep arguing, I hate to interrupt my enemies while they’re making a mistake. Why don’t you all go to Nepal? Settle your little debate once and for all?” Her thick accent marked her as an outsider, but right now she commanded a position of power.

“I thought this meeting was for archaeologists, who invited her?” Rebecca asked as derisively as she could. It was a bold comment coming from the graduate student who was likely only invited because it was in her own school, and enough to send the room into the commotion that had been narrowly avoided before. If one thing was clear, it was that the hunt for this lost city would be the newest flashpoint in the rivalry between the four women, and the race had started whether they liked it or not. One by one, they realised that it was pointless arguing about their theories in the open and retreated from the building to plot their expeditions. Soon they would be scattered to the corners of the globe, but they were far from the only ones following the tantalising trail left by the delta source, they were only the most prominent.

Part 1

Elsa

“So, you still got your sights set on that Nepalese temple?” Jack asked as he and Elsa hurried across the quad. After the heated exchange in the lecture hall there was a sense of haste in the air.

“Yes, I don’t know if I can back it up with a library of sources but I’m sure we can find it using the description in that document. I have a hunch.” She answered, already putting together the logistics of their upcoming trip in her head.

“You don’t need to convince me, your hunches usually end up making us a lot of money.” He reassured her.

“See that’s what these kids don’t have, that sixth sense. I wasn’t born with it, I honed it over many years.” She went on to enthusiastic nods from her right hand man. He had been a sort of assistant to her since he was pretty much a kid, and even though nowadays he didn’t need her patronage to put a roof over his head, he still stood by her rain or shine.

“Now, I know you don’t like him but we’ll have to talk to Braxton. He knows South Asia like the back of his hand, we’ll get there twice as fast with his help.” Elsa explained. As she strutted along briskly her long chestnut hair billowed behind her. She was tall, with striking features that gave her face a youthful energy despite her age. The small belt cinching her waist over the blue dress she wore gave a hint at her dramatic curves.

“It’s not that I don’t like him, I just don’t trust him. The guy has no sense of loyalty, you think he won’t try and take more than his share of the credit for finding the temple?”

“Let him have whatever credit he wants, the lost city is the real prize and we’ll keep the wool over his eyes on that one.” Elsa answered with a wicked grin. Jack gave a sly nod.

“What do you think this lost city is anyway?” He asked after a few moments of silence.

“God, who knows? Clearly it’s diluted its way into so many legends and stories that there’s no telling what we’ll actually find there.” She mused, before seeing Jacks’ somewhat blank expression and laughing out loud.

“No hunches yet, I’ll let you know.”

***

Elsa groaned as she opened her eyes, stirred awake by a drop of water hitting her forehead. Her head was throbbing with pain, someone had knocked her out with something… Where was she? It was a large chamber, the ceiling towering high above her in sharp contrast to the cramped tunnels they had crawled into when they found the place. It seemed to be a huge dome covered in elaborate mosaics and carvings, but falling apart after so many years left abandoned. She could see that water was meant to flow down through the ceiling in symmetrical streams but now dripped through the cracks in random spots. It seemed to flow down into a moat around the central island in the room, where she was lying. She tried to roll onto her side but something prevented her from moving, her wrists were bound above her head as she lay on her back, tethered together with rough climbing rope as her arms were pulled straight up. What was going on? She remembered coming to the moat and the island, and seeing something in the middle of it, something important… She could see now she was on a circular raised platform, a dais, in place of whatever was sitting there before. She tried to move her legs but her ankles too were bound tightly together, the rope biting into her bare skin, boots and socks long gone. The bindings seemed to be tied down at the base of the dais as she couldn’t budge an inch from her place on top of it, feeling as though she had been arranged almost ceremoniously. As her senses slowly returned she realised her warm clothing had also gone missing, leaving her in just her white button up shirt that strained against her bust, half tucked into her grey slacks. Suffice it to say she was slowly freezing, after all it was way below zero outside.

“Ja… Jack?” She murmured, her head still cloudy.

“Ah, you’re awake. It’s about time, I’ve almost finished looking through this.” A gruff male voice answered from behind her. She bent her neck around and watched as Braxton rose from his position sitting against the back of the dais, holding a large, weathered tome. She remembered now, that book was sitting on the platform before her, with only tiny stepping stones through the moat to get to the middle. She had been so eager to see what it was she tried to get across herself…

“What are you doing? Why am I tied up?” She asked, slurring her words a little as Braxton rounded the dais to her side with a strange smile on his face. There was no sign of Jack or any of the sherpas who had come with them on the trip.

“I’m so sorry my dear but I’m afraid this find is a little too good to share. Did you really think I wouldn’t know this was about the delta source? You haven’t been very honest with me have you?” He said quietly, telling her off like she was a child. She grimaced, starting to struggle anew against the ropes, realising that she was in deep trouble. It was coming back to her now, she had slipped into the moat and must have hit her head, her warm clothes would have been soaked through wherever they were now.

“So what? You’re just going to leave me here to starve?” She demanded.

“No, of course not. I can’t risk anyone else coming here and finding more clues so I’m afraid there’s going to be a collapse in this cavern that tragically buries you while I escape just in time…”

“What? You would murder me over this? Just for an archaeological find?” She gasped out, starting to panic now, working her wrists against the rough rope to no avail.

“Not just any find Elsa, this lost city is the holy grail, perhaps even literally. Don’t worry, when I get there I’ll dedicate it to your memory.” He answered. Elsa could hear the psychopathy in his voice now, she knew he was arrogant but this was something else, like the idea of the lost city had possessed him.

“But first, I've already earned one reward. You can’t imagine how many of us would have killed for this opportunity back in the day. You thought you were just one of the boys didn’t you? But I wonder how many of us just kept you around as eye candy. I know that’s the only reason you were invited on my expeditions.” He said slowly, putting the book down and climbing up onto the dais with her. She could only watch in horror as he straddled her body, sitting one knee down either side over her stomach. She could feel something hard pressing against her through his pants. Braxton had greying curly hair and a body that was well defined in youth and well enough maintained now. Elsa had always found him attractive but his attitude was enough to kill any chance of something happening between them. Now it seemed that she had no choice in the matter.

“It’s not too late to stop this Anton, you don’t want to do this to me, we’ve been friends for years.” She started to plead as his hands wandered up her shirt to her collar. The buttons strained as she arched her back in her struggles, and he seemed to change his mind about how to undress her. All he had to do was slide a finger under the button most strained, right between her ample breasts, and pull on it.

“Yes… Friends. A lifelong regret that I will enjoy amending now.” He snarled as the button popped off, revealing a glimpse of the black bra underneath cupping her perfect tits. Unable to control himself any longer, he gripped both sides of the shirt and tore it wide open, sending a few more buttons flying off onto the stone floor and revealing much of her shapely figure. She immediately felt the frigid air biting at her bare skin, goosebumps appearing all over as her nipples hardened under the brassiere.

“You son of a bitch…” She murmured, closing her eyes in shame as his hands gripped both her breasts, squeezing them with great pleasure. He was getting harder by the second, enjoying the unrestrained use of her body for his own satisfaction. It wasn’t long before he got bored of massaging her tits, but he was far from having had his fill. He reached up and grabbed her cheeks, squeezing her lips together much to Elsa’s fury, making her turn her face away to stop him. It only took his other hand gripping her forehead tight before he could play with her features as much as he wanted, brushing his thumb against her soft lips, pulling down underneath her eyes. Somehow it was more degrading for her than ripping her shirt open, she was being played with like a doll. He slid a finger into her mouth between her teeth, as expected she bit him but he was ready for it, forcing in more fingers until he had enough to pull her jaw down slightly and release them.

“Didn’t your mother tell you not to play with your food?” Elsa growled, suddenly jerking herself against the ropes hard, making him jump a little. He frowned, climbing off her stomach and starting to unbuckle his belt, still kneeling on the dais.

“Let’s see how long you can keep up that famous wit…” He muttered, before grabbing her by the hips and forcing her around to the side, twisting her body until she was facing down against the hard surface. The ropes didn’t afford her any more wiggle room in this position, and only her bra was there to stop her boobs freezing off as they were splayed against the cold stone. That wasn’t going to be the case for long though, as Braxton took his pocket knife and slowly cut up the back of her shirt, slicing it in two and pulling it off her body. She was feeling more and more exposed by the minute, both to the elements and to his leering eyes. Rather than cut the bra strap at the back he reached down and unclipped it, before realising he had to cut the shoulder straps anyway to remove it completely. With her bare breasts now flattened against the dais, only her large, round rear was covered by clothing, even her feet were exposed. She had a feeling it wouldn’t stay that way though, as Braxton disrobed himself, revealing his hard cock. She could only watch with her head bent to the side, one cheek against the stone.

“What’s the matter Braxton? Do your grad students not put out for extra credit any mo-AHH!” She was cut off mid-sentence both by the crack of his belt hitting her ass through her pants and her involuntary scream of pain.

“Someone should have given you a good spanking years ago!” He laughed sadistically, cracking the belt across her ass cheeks again. This time she managed to contain the scream in a loud grunt, not that much of her pride was intact at this point anyway. She closed her eyes, relenting the fact that he wasn’t going to let her die without utterly humiliating her first. As if he could read her mind, he reached for another long length of climbing rope and looped it around her thighs, threading it through underneath her stomach and around the small of her back. As Elsa wondered with dread where he learnt these techniques, he slowly tightened the new piece of rope, bending her thighs up towards her stomach inch by inch, cinching her torso in. The ropes tethering her wrists and ankles gave a little slack as they were pulled tighter, but there was only so far she could be stretched before the strain was put on her muscles, making her groan at a low, pained pitch as her arms and legs took most of the strain and her rear end arched up into the air. She really was like a doll, completely pliable into whatever position he wanted. After a minute he couldn’t get any more slack out of the ropes but he had what he wanted, her poor body aching from the strain as she was forced to stick out her ass, the slacks pulled so tight he could see the outline of her panties underneath. She couldn’t move an inch even when she put all her might into it, as Braxton took out his knife again, this time bringing it to her ass and making a tiny incision in the fabric between her cheeks that made her wince. He cut a tiny slit in the pants that immediately tore itself wider under the strain, revealing most of her round, pale ass and her matching black panties now bunched up between her cheeks.

“You’re a coward, you think I couldn’t take you if this was a fair fight?” She yelled, his slow, methodical humiliation getting to her. He responded again with the belt, the leather this time connecting with her bare skin, setting it alight with searing pain, her scream echoing through the chamber.

“Fuck y-AAAGH!” She tried to scream, before being cut off again. A bright red strip was appearing across her ass cheeks now, his ability to strike the same spot was uncanny and he wasn’t even almost done. He spent the next few minutes whipping her over and over, tenderising her ass from top to bottom, before ripping her pants open wider and starting again. The pain was enough to distract her from the temperature somewhat, but it wasn’t stopping the cold from slowly seeping into her bones. A single tear rolled down her face, her tongue was throbbing from how hard she bit it to stop herself from screaming, something she quickly gave up on. Screaming her lungs out somehow lessened the pain, even though she knew it was giving him the satisfaction he wanted. After what seemed like an eternity, he got up and kneeled behind her, slapping his warm cock against her tender skin, even that soft impact enough to reignite the burning pain. He leaned forward, wrapping the belt around her neck and buckling it tight, choking her as he pulled back, holding it like a leash.

“No…” Was all she could splutter out as he pulled her panties aside, slowly forcing the tip of his cock into her pussy. She let out a low moan as he entered her against her will, driving himself all the way down to the hilt until he was filling her entirely. Her cold body couldn’t help but welcome the warmth of his cock, even as she felt more violated than she ever had in her life. Just when she thought she couldn’t suffer any further contortion, he pulled hard against the belt, beginning to thrust into her, groaning with pleasure as her tight pussy clung to him.

“This… Is all women are good for…” He moaned as he used her body, grinding her tits into the cold stone like she was an object.

“Fu…” Was as far as she got into a response before he pulled the belt even tighter, making her gasp for air. She flexed her fingers out, then dug them into her palms, wishing she could bring them to her neck and relieve the strain. As Braxton continued to give her the railing of her life, fresh tears sprung into her eyes and she couldn’t help but feel like a fool. Here she was, Elsa Reinhardt, the world famous archaeologist out to prove that after all these years she still had it in her. But right now she was no explorer, no champion for women, she was just a whore being beaten senseless and having her insides rearranged for a man’s sick pleasure. The lost city felt like it was a lifetime away, completely unobtainable, and of course once Braxton was done with her she would be buried with the temple like some kind of sacrifice. He would dedicate the discovery to her, and only he would know that her last act in life was being his sex doll. The spat between the women in the lecture hall had motivated her expedition but it felt so distant now. Still, she couldn’t help but wonder how they were faring. The only thing she knew for sure was that it had to be better than her…

Rebecca

The smell of dead fish hung in the air in the dank room, as two men stood and admired their catch. Rebecca Wheeler’s limp body hung still, where her wrists had been chained to a motorised hook attached to the ceiling. She was drenched, having just been fished out of the water a few minutes ago, and her body looked good with her clothes stuck so tightly to her skin.

“I thought she was meant to be blonde.” One of the men said, inspecting the unconscious woman.

“Shit, really? Well who is this then?” The other one asked.

“Beats me, but if she’s not the target then we can do whatever we want to her…”

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