STARGÅTE SG-1—Sam & Janet (& Jennifer Hailey) in...
		A WORK OF BONDAGE FAN-FICTION—by Van ©2007
		Chapter 4

Bound, naked, gagged and blindfolded, Hailey stumbled along between her handlers.  From the occasional words exchanged, she was sure that Honna—the tall, beautiful "Polymath", was in the lead, and that Charis—the shorter, but even more beautiful "slave", was in the rear.  Hailey tried to keep track of her surroundings, as she'd been trained—to count her steps, to note the twists and turns of their path, the number of times they climbed stairs, entered enclosed spaces, or emerged into the sun and wind—but she was distracted.

Ever since Charis had removed her loincloth and wrapped it around her head—Hailey's sex had been tingling!  Her nipples were erect and ached with every sensation, even in response to the intermittent breeze and warmth of the sun!  She felt wet, almost as if she was dripping down her thighs!  My god, what's happening?  What have they done to me?

Hailey's legs were suddenly weak, too weak to support her weight.  She nearly fell, but Charis caught her.  She thought it was Charis—was sure it was Charis—by the delicious warmth of her strong hands, the wonderful softness of her breasts against her bound arms and back—but, above all, by that glorious perfume!  As she felt her body being eased to the ground and into Charis' embrace, the musky scent seemed to double, despite the silk over her nose and gagged mouth.

"What's wrong, Little Flower?" Charis purred, gently stroking Hailey's thighs and breasts.

"I think that's rather obvious," Honna chuckled.  "This is very interesting."

"Interesting indeed," Charis whispered, continuing to slide her hands over Hailey's writhing body.

Hailey mewled through her gag and shuddered under Charis' caress.  It felt wonderful!  She felt wonderful!  Oh, how she wished her hands were free, to stroke Charis flawless skin, to explore every curve of her firm body.

"Hurry, please," Honna said.  "I have tests to prepare."

"Hurrying is not an issue," Charis chuckled.  "Why is she so responsive?"  Her hand slid between Hailey's thighs and her fingers fluttered, teasing the prisoner's labia.

"She is almost certainly without the Goddess's Gift," Honna said.  "Emotive stress, hunger, thirst—she is in a most vulnerable state."

'Goddess's Gift'? Hailey wondered, but just for a moment, as most of her mind was otherwise occupied.

"Poor Little Flower," Charis cooed, continuing her intimate manipulations.

Hailey's body went totally rigid, and she screamed through her gag.  It was the most glorious, most totally intense orgasm of her life—and it seemed to go on forever!  Finally, she shuddered and resumed her squirming "resistance"—but what amounted to orgasmic aftershocks of wicked pleasure continued to ripple trough her sex and up her spine!

Charis' hands continued working their skilled and insidious mischief.  She leaned forward, over the prisoner's shoulder, sucked Hailey's left nipple into her mouth, and teased the rigid, incredibly sensitive flesh with her tongue!

Hailey went rigid again—and another full orgasm rocked her body!  Again, she screamed through her gag—

—and opened her eyes... and blinked.

"Back among the living, I see."

It was Charis' voice.  Hailey turned her head, and gasped in surprise... and wonder.  Charis was kneeling by her side, and she was naked—but for the gleaming steel chastity belt locked around her waist and through her loins—the steel collar around her throat, with its dangling ring—and the steel shields clinging to and covering her nipples.  She focused on the nipple shields.  Some glue might be involved in holding them in place, but she suspected the large jewels on either side of the raised center were the posts of rods, piercing the nipples themselves.  Just as the crotch shield of her chastity belt was sculpted to follow the contours of Charis' labia, the rims of the shields were tooled to mimic her aureolae, with jewels set around the margins, like tiny, fleshy bumps.  A jeweled navel post and matching earrings completed the picture—or rather, began the picture.

Charis was, in a word, perfect.  Her body was perfect in proportion, muscle tone, and development.  Her skin was tan and firm, smooth and flawless.  Her long, brown curls cascaded to either side of her angelic face.  She was perfect in every way.  Her brown, doe eyes and full, glistening lips regarded Hailey with an affectionate amusement that made Hailey feel safe, happy, loved, and—

Hailey shuddered and tried to clear her thoughts.  She was lying on a soft pallet, in a bare room with plastered walls.  Light was streaming through a skylight, high overhead.  "What have you done to me?" she demanded.  She was still a naked, bound, and helpless prisoner, but there had been changes.  For one thing, she was clean, including her hair.  Her long, blond tresses had been unbraided, shampooed, dried, and brushed.  Her gag was gone, but her wrists and forearms were still folded, forearm-to-forearm, and bound behind her back—not with rope, but with what seemed to be a continuous tube of semi-opaque, natural rubber.

The rubber was about a quarter of an inch thick, and it was strong.  Her most energetic attempts to pull her hands free met with no success.  The tube extended from elbow to elbow and her hands, fingers, and thumbs were separately encased, each trapped in their own chamber of clinging rubber.  Nowhere, from elbows to fingertips, could she feel skin on skin.

Charis watched her struggle, with an amused, gloating smile.  "What have I done to you, Little Flower?" she finally responded.  Her voice, like everything else about her, was intoxicating.  "Why... nothing.  Your hygiene has been restored by the Wise Council's service slaves."

Charis reached behind her back and produced a covered bowl.  She lifted the cover, and it was full to the brim with small nuggets of meat and bite-sized slices of vegetables, swimming in a brown sauce.

Hailey's stomach knotted with hunger at the delicious smell, but she kept her expression carefully neutral.  She knew what was coming.  Charis would tempt her with the food, to gain her trust, and then the questioning would begin.  If that didn't work, there would be threats, sleep deprivation... and worse.

Charis selected a chunk of meat, popped it in her own mouth, chewed, and swallowed.  She smiled, selected a second chunk, and lifted it to Hailey's lips.

The prisoner kept her mouth firmly closed, despite the aroma of the morsel (and the smell of the skin of Charis' hand).  Hailey's nipples and sex were tingling, again, and her mouth was watering.

"You are being very silly, Little Flower," Charis chided.  She popped the second chunk in her mouth, but slid her sauce-dripping fingers across Hailey's lips.  "I know you're hungry."

The taste of the sauce invaded Hailey's mouth.  It was warm and spicy, without being too spicy, like the peanut sauce at China Village, her favorite Chinese restaurant in Colorado Springs... back on earth.  Charis offered a third chunk of meat.  Marshaling all of her remaining strength of will, Hailey turned her head away.

"If you don't stop this," Charis laughed, "I'll send for some of the Janissary Guard.  They'll hold you down, pry your jaws open, and the meal will continue."

Hailey turned her head back and glared at her captor... her beautiful, naked, perfect captor.

"Such spirit," Charis sighed, "but there is a time to be a strong warrior and a time to stop being a willful child, Little Flower.  Eat!"  Hailey's lips remained closed.  "Eat... for Charis... as a favor for Charis," the slave whispered, and pressed the morsel forward, and this time it slid between between Hailey's lips, without resistance.

The warm, flaky-soft meat seemed to melt in Hailey's mouth, and her taste buds exploded with pleasure.  At the same time, a titillating pulse of delight shuddered through her sex—and this time Hailey was sure it was the scent of her captor's hand.

The meal continued with more meat, as well as chunks of different varieties of exotic vegetables.  All were steamed to perfection, and were firm and flavorful.  Cups of cold, clear water poured from a moisture-beaded carafe washed everything down.  It was the best meal of Hailey's life!  Before she knew it, her stomach was full—and she felt wonderful—and she was licking the sauce from Charis' fingers—and from her lips—and from—

"Ahem."

A door had opened and Honna had appeared.  At her back were two tall, well-muscled women.  Both were dressed in what Hailey was coming to recognize as the military uniform of PelluciGorean culture: bandeau, loincloth, and leather boots and harness.  This time, the cloth was undyed linen, like Honna's robe.  The leather was a gleaming brown, similar in color to that worn by the "jungle-girl commandos", but polished, instead of the matte suede appropriate for the field.

"You're supposed to feed her," Honna said, addressing Charis, "not have her give you a tongue bath."

Charis laughed.  "She overpowered me.  She's strong as the legendary sleen."

The guards laughed, and Honna suppressed a smile.  "Assume the bara!" she barked, and Charis rolled onto her stomach and crossed her wrists at the small of her back.  She also stretched out her legs, full-length, and crossed her ankles.  Honna motioned the guards forward with a wave of her hand.  Both had long, narrow strips of linen cloth in their hands.

Still half-aroused from Charis scent, her cheeks burning with embarrassment, Hailey watched as one of the guards knelt and began binding Charis' wrists with a cloth strip.  The other guard was coming towards her!

Hailey focused on Honna, obviously the one in charge.  "Why am I a prisoner?" she demanded.  "We're peaceful explorers—M'mmpfh!"

The guard had stuffed a wadded strip into Hailey's mouth and was using a second strip to give her a tight cleave-gag.  Mewling, squirming, and trying her best to resist, Hailey watched as Charis' ankles were bound by the first guard.

Soon, Hailey found herself on her feet and in a hallway.  The two guards held her by the arms, with firm but gentle pressure.

Back in the cell, Honna was standing over the prostrate, helpless form of Charis the slave.  "I'll be back for you later," she purred.  "You won't be needed for the next few days."  She nodded towards Hailey.  "I'll be dealing with this one on my own.  You can concentrate on planning creative ways to provide entertainment during rest periods."

Charis wiggled and writhed in her bonds, and smiled her seductive smile.  "You are a cruel hostess," she sighed.

Honna laughed, and turned to exit the cell.  "I know at the Panther Court that is a great compliment, but under the Dome of Learning, we value the pleasures of scholarship above creative debauchery."  She paused in the doorway.  "I'm simply keeping you helpless and imprisoned to prevent mischief while my attention is elsewhere."  She threw a switch and the door began to slowly close.

Charis' smile became a heartrending pout—sending a thrill of arousal through Hailey's sex—and then the door was closed.  Hailey looked up at the guards towering on either side, then at Honna.

Honna was returning her gaze, with smiling, curious eyes.  "You are a mystery, Little One," she said, "but not for long."  She turned and strode away down the passage, and the guards dragged Hailey along in her wake.

They passed several closed doors and made several turns.  The walls were all plain, unadorned plaster, the floor was covered in glazed tiles, and periodic skylights provided light.  Then, they paused before a door, identical to all the others.  Honna triggered a switch, it opened, and Hailey was led inside.  She looked around—and her eyes popped wide!  Fear knotted her stomach.

It was unmistakably an advanced laboratory of some sort.  There were several workstations, similar to the Goa'uld control consoles the SGC had encountered elsewhere.  Between the stations were racks of glowing crystals and shelves of jars and containers, large and small.  Gleaming metal and crystal instruments, some of which definitely were Goa'uld in origin, were arrayed on tables and trays.  In the center of the chamber—lit from above by banks of multi-colored lights—was an object of fascination... and horror.

It was an operating table—or examination chair—or both.  It had dozens of dangling straps and open, manacle and shackle-like clamps, as well as knee supports and stirrups, like a gynecological table.  Numerous gears and pivot points along its entire length hinted at a wide array of possible configurations.

Hailey struggled to maintain her composure, but not even her SERE training had prepared her for something like this!

"You know what to do," Honna said, and the guards dragged Hailey forward, towards the waiting monster.

BACK IN THE CRATER...

---

Breakfast had, indeed, been grubs and worms, as had a depressing number of meals since; but Sam and Janet were beginning to learn their way around the crater's jungles, forests, and swamps.

They had constructed a combination kraal and abatis, as planned, surrounding the base of the trees comprising their hilltop refuge.  Thorny brush and sharpened branches and poles pointed outwards in a bristling, defensive hedge.  A pair of heavy, interlocking branches that could be wedged together from the inside provided the entrance and exit.

On the ground, they constructed a lean-to to protect the hearth of their "kitchen".  Sam had put her SERE training to use to start their first fire by twirling a hardwood "drill" between her palms, against a small depression carved in a split length of wood.  The resulting friction ignited a clump of carefully prepared tinder.  They kept coals banked at the back of the hearth between meals and at night, and so far, recreating fire from scratch had not been necessary.

Up in the tree, they made a sleeping platform by lashing sticks and branches together with twisted vines.  The shelter-half provided protection from the rain, which, thankfully, had only made one brief appearance, three days into their "adventure".  At night, they huddled together for warmth, on a surprisingly comfortable bed of leaves.  The night sky was indeed a spectacular light show, as Sam had promised.  The dark face of the gas giant danced with planet-sized lightning storms, and since P69-758 was relatively close to the galactic core, countless billions of stars crowded the indigo sky in nebulous array, providing as much light as a full moon on earth.

They managed to fabricate moccasins from the "canopy-suede" material they'd salvaged back at the waterfall clearing, using what Sam called the "Iroquois" or "center-seam" design; something she'd picked up from her days as a Girl Scout.  Sam also taught her friend how to cut long thongs from circular patches of the suede-like cloth by slicing each patch in a continuous, ever diminishing spiral.  The resulting ribbons were much longer than anything they could have produced with straight cuts.

In addition to moccasins, they produced comfortable, albeit quite skimpy costumes.  Sam was now clad in jagged patches of tan canopy-suede lashed together into a string bikini.  Janet had marginally better coverage in a brown loincloth and bandeau.  Their watches, dog tags, and sheath knives were their only earthly attire.

Whoever or whatever had stolen their uniforms and gear remained hidden throughout their detailed exploration of their immediate surroundings, and despite their constant vigilance.  To augment their knives and the P90, now kept constantly on one of their persons with a makeshift sling of canopy-suede, they made several spears with fire-hardened points.  Janet also kept her club, which she refined by wrapping the handle and lashing a smooth, wedge-shaped rock to the business end.

Their diet slowly improved.  Using the take-a-small-bite-and-wait method, they discovered which of the local plants were edible and palatable.  They also discovered a coelacanth-like fish in the local waterways that could be caught with a barbed spear and a healthy dose of patience.

They did not encounter anything they could call mega-fauna.  There were small, mammal-like animals, and various reptiles and amphibians, but all proved to be quite elusive.  The local critters did provide an effective nocturnal garbage removal service, but they never fully revealed themselves.  Apparently, Sam and Janet were the Giant Monsters of the crater.

The crater's insect life left the "jungle-girls" strictly alone, as well, including flies, gnats, mosquitoes, and the giant dragonflies they'd encountered upon arrival in the swamp.  Janet speculated they probably didn't like the way the humans smelled, and hoped their continuing diet of the local fauna and flora wouldn't cause that to change.

After about a week, they mounted an expedition back to the swamp to inspect the "transport platform."  They slogged through the mud, as before, but this time they had a rope made from carefully braided vines, and a curved branch tied to the end to serve as a grappling hook.  They managed to get up onto the platform, and found the fallen arch to be a worthless ruin.  What may have been the shattered, fire-blackened shards of a few Goa'uld-style control crystals were lying about; but the pieces were small and brittle, not even worth adding to their stone-age toolkit.

They lowered themselves back into the mud, slogged back to camp, and cleaned up.

That night, Sam called a meeting.

It was full dark, and Sam and Janet were in the "tree house", sitting side-by-side with their backs against the tree.  What Janet had dubbed "dragon-bats" were swooping through the branches overhead, catching insects.  They'd never gotten a good look at the songbird-sized creatures, but Janet insisted they had long tails and serpentine necks.

"They're like tiny little feathered dragons!" the grinning doctor said.  "I wish we could catch one and make it a pet.  Can't you see it, perched on my shoulder?"

"Yeah," Sam agreed, "it'd be adorable, right up to the moment it started eating your face."

"It doesn't have to be a mindless killing machine," Janet protested.

"Tell that to the mosquitoes," Sam laughed.  "Besides, think how sad the little guy would be when you left him at the stargate."

"Yeah," Janet sighed.  "Speaking of which..."

This time it was Sam's turn to sigh.  "Yeah, okay, to business.  We can't stay here."

"The wet season."

"Right," Sam nodded.  "Come the rains, half of this crater is going to turn into one big lake.  This hilltop will probably be dry, but we'll have a lot less acreage to forage around in, and I'm betting it's gonna get colder, at least a little."

"Cold, wet, and miserable," Janet agreed.  "And even if it isn't that bad, neither one of us wants to end our days as Sheena and Tarzana, Queens of the Crater."

"I'm the ranking officer," Sam objected, "so I'm the 'queen'.  You're my loyal sidekick and comic relief."

"Watch it!" Janet chuckled, "or I'll kick more than your side."  She leaned against the side in question and Sam lifted her arm to let her snuggle close.  Janet continued, with a more serious tone.  "So... what's the plan?"

"You hold the fort," Sam answered, "and I start exploring the crater wall for a way up and out.  We have no idea where the stargate might be from here, but maybe we can find some natives who are friendlier than the group that ambushed us."

"Long-shot, Sam," Janet sighed.

"I know, but we have to start moving.  This crater in the wet season might be difficult, but the mountains will certainly be worse."

"Okay," Janet agreed, "but we explore together."

"No," Sam responded, "you forage and cook and have a yummy meal waiting when I get back at night.  This could take days."

"Whenever night is," Janet said.  "I'm still not able to predict periods of light, and half-light, and half-dark, and full-dark.  If I don't keep one eye on the sky, I get surprised."

"Anyway," Sam continued, "I'll be the maneuver element, and you'll be support.  In other words, I play explorer while you play house."

"Yes ma'am, Colonel ma'am."

"And you keep the P90."

"Now wait a minute!" Janet protested.  "You'll be the one wandering around."

"This is a fixed base," Sam explained.  "By now, anything out there knows where to find us.  I'll be on the move—wandering around, as you put it—and I'll have my knife and spear.  You stay alert and be ready to deal with our invisible thief, if he, she, or it shows its face."

"If it's invisible, how does it show its face?" Janet asked, in a perfectly deadpan voice.

Sam turned her head and gazed at her friend.  The light of several billion stars was more than enough to reveal Janet's devilishly cute, teasing smile.  "Shut up and go to sleep, Tarzana-the-sidekick," she ordered, smiling back.  "It's Queen Sheena's turn to take the first watch."

"Yes, Your Majesty," Janet whispered, still smiling, and closed her eyes.

THREE "DAYS" LATER...

---

Sam had started her solitary explorations by returning to the waterfall clearing.  There was still no sign of their uniforms, boots, vests, web gear, or supplies; nor was there any sign of fresh tracks, other than those left by the usual small animals with which Sam was becoming increasingly familiar.

Their initial observations had given no reason to favor one direction over another, so the "jungle-girls" had made the arbitrary choice of having Sam start to the right of the waterfall.  She kept as close to the base of the crater rim as possible, venturing up the rubble at the base only when she spotted a possible path up the wall.  So far, closer inspection had always ended in disappointment.  Every crack and seam Sam discovered had ended in a sheer, vertical face.  Maybe a highly skilled free-climber could have made an ascent, but neither Sam nor Janet had rock climbing experience.

Footsore and tired, Sam returned to camp that first night and was somewhat revived by a dip in the stream and a dinner of coelacanth-en-brochette, served with a fruit that was something like a cross between a peach and a mango.  A foot massage from Janet's skilled hands was also a welcome restorative.

Day two extended the search several more kilometers, but was equally disappointing.

Future explorations to the right would require Sam to strike out from camp to the crater rim through totally unknown territory.  Otherwise, she'd waste most of the day retracing her steps.  Therefore, at the start of day three, Sam made her way to the waterfall clearing as before, but this time she turned to the left.

She followed a game trail along the base of the crater for three kilometers, scanning the surrounding jungle as well as looking for a way up the cliff.  She parted a curtain of foliage—and found herself on the edge of a somewhat unusual clearing.

It was circular, about thirty or forty meters in diameter, and the margin nearest the crater rim was overgrown with bushes and shrubs.  In fact, the thick brush formed an impenetrable hedge that climbed up the rubble slope, nearly to the start of the vertical face.  In her earlier explorations along the rim Sam had seen nothing like it.  Equally strange, the jungle seemed to be cleared back from most of the remaining margin, allowing Sam to see far into the gloom of the surrounding forest.  There was still a lush carpet of ferns and low brush, but it was as if all the mid-level secondary growth one always found bordering such a clearing had been removed.

Most unusual of all, in the very center of the clearing, several long-dead trees seemed to have been piled together.  Either that, or a small grove had succumbed to some disease, all at once, and had collapsed inward into a maze of tangled branches. The house-size heap, weathered and gray, made a dense, oddly symmetrical mass.

Sam carefully stepped off the game trail.  She moved in a low crouch, making sure she was still screened by the waist-high foliage.  She found a good spot from which to surveil the trail, clearing, and surrounding forest, and sat cross-legged on the leaf litter.  She pulled her spear across her lap, and settled in to watch and wait.

The minutes passed, and became an hour.  The local "birds" flitted about, gleaning insects in the canopy overhead.  They all seemed to have long necks and semi-prehensile tails, like Janet's "dragon-bats".  One brown and gray species, roughly the size of a song sparrow, came close enough for Sam to get a good look.  It had decidedly reptilian features and a mouth full of tiny teeth.  I think they are like little dragons, Sam mused.  Not for the first time, Sam wished she had her binoculars—then shook her head in grim denial.

One of her favorite SERE instructors—right up to the point the POW Camp phase of the training started, and he became her least favorite instructor—had a sarcastic saying he loved to share with wishful students: "If we had some bacon, we could make bacon-and-eggs, if we had some eggs."  The lesson was, if you wanted something, you didn't have it, and you couldn't make it or steal it—stop thinking about it and start thinking about how to do without it!

After an hour of birdwatching, Sam knew what she needed to know: the local fauna considered the clearing to be 'normal'.  She roused herself from hiding, slowly stretched, and ventured into the open, spear at the ready.  As expected, the "dragon-birds" made themselves suddenly scarce, giving chirping or honking alarm calls as they fled.

Sam approached the tangle of branches.  It was not like a dense brush pile.  The interior was a thick maze of stout branches, but it was open.  She could see all the way through to the far side.  The floor of the pile was a mass of fallen leaves and twigs, as one would expect.  Several game trails led right up to the pile, including the trail that had led Sam to the clearing, and a circular trail seemed to follow the heap's entire circumference.

Something caught Sam's eye, an object dangling from a cord of twisted twine.  The twine and its use confirmed that intelligent hands were at work—and the object was familiar.  In fact, it was a hand radio, standard SGC issue, and the odds that it was not part of either Sam or Janet's missing gear were too great to imagine.

Sam approached the woodpile with extreme caution.  Near the hand radio was a G.D.O., a specialized radio transmitter used by SG teams to transmit encrypted identity codes through an open stargate to the SGC.  The first of the small devices had been jokingly referred to as a "garage door opener" (G.D.O.), and the nickname had stuck.  Next to the G.D.O. hung a medical field dressing, still folded in its sterile wrapper.  And next to it was a clip of P90 ammunition, dangling from a length of twine, like all the rest.

Sam's heart was tripping like a hammer, and the hairs on the back of her neck were on end.  Bait for a trap?  Certainly, and Sam and/or Janet were obviously the intended prey.  If snipers with zat-weapons had Sam in her sights, she was already dead or captured.  She slowly examined the surrounding forest.  Well-concealed spider-holes could be anywhere, but if there were any camouflaged blinds in the tops of the trees, they were too well-made for her to pick them out.

The G.D.O. was very tempting.  They'd need it to get back to earth, if they ever found a way back to the stargate.  The clip was tempting as well.  One could always use more ammo.  Nothing looked threatening in the interior of the labyrinth of twisted wood.  There were a few vines twisting through the labyrinth of gray wood, some living, and some dead, and a few clumps of plants grew at the base of the pile, but nothing was big enough to provide cover for a human-sized attacker.

With a final, careful scan of her surroundings, Sam lay her spear against the tangled pile, and reached between the branches with her right hand, straining to reach the G.D.O.  With her feet on the ground, all of the dangling pieces of equipment were out of reach.  She planted her feet on convenient branches, and climbed up onto the pile.  Leaning forward, her body pressed against the hard, smooth wood, she tried again.  This time, the G.D.O. was tantalizingly close.  She could almost reach it.

Suddenly, one of the dead vines running through the wood pile snapped around her right wrist and tightened like a noose!

"Hey!" Sam exclaimed.

The vine pulled taut, stretching her arm full-length.  Sam realized it wasn't a vine at all, but rope, braided from dried grass and as thick as her thumb.

Sam's knife was in its sheath on her right hip, an awkward reach for her left hand.  As she made the attempt, more rope snapped taut around her ankles, waist, and across her back!  A loop of rope around her upper left arm kept the knife hopelessly out of reach.  Her cheek was flattened against a branch, but she managed to twist her shoulders, brace herself, and lift her head far enough to look back, over her left shoulder.  All this time, additional loops of rope were tightening around her legs and arms.  She focused on a clump of leaves at the base of the pile—and her eyes popped wide!

A small, green, humanoid figure was emerging from the foliage.  It was bipedal, but smaller than a human infant—about a foot in height.  Its oversized head had bat-shaped ears, yellow eyes that seemed to glow in the dim light, and its features weren't going to win any beauty contests—not on earth, anyway.  In one hand it clutched a coil of rope identical to the web of rough, braided strands already binding Sam against the tangle of heavy branches.

There were additional pairs of eyes staring at Sam from the shadows.   "Let me go!" she screamed.

Intelligence in its glowing yellow eyes, the mottled green creature at her feet slowly shook its head from side to side.  "No!" it said, in a tiny, rasping voice, and started to climb the pile.

FotoFake by Courier and Van.