Camila began to cry as she stepped out from the jungle into the clearing. She waved and hollered, "Help me, please!"
The men stopped and stared, then began talking amongst themselves. They were clearly not used to seeing such a beautiful, curvaceous Latina in a yellow bikini.
A middle aged and slightly frumpy man, most likely the foreman, took the lead and shouted back. "Can I help you miss? You look like you’ve gotten yourself lost and ended up walking through hell to get here."
"I need to get this off." Camila tugged at her necklace. "It's… it's literally killing me."
The foreman scratched his unshaven chin. "Well, let me think about that." He noticed it was glowing green and knew exactly what that meant for Camila. "Helping you is going to put me and my men at risk, we could end up with our loved ones in the same situation as yourself. But if you make it worth our while... "
Camila's heart sunk. She could not believe she was being taken advantage of again but it was better than a life of sexual slavery. "I will do anything, but first, tell me how would you help me?"
"We have shipping containers full of our equipment. They're not often checked since we're a trusted subcontractor," he replied. "Anyway, one of our excavators is fucked, so it's leaving for maintenance back on the mainland tomorrow. We could smuggle you out." He grinned, knowing she did not have a choice. "The decision is yours."
"And in return?"
The foreman licked his lips as his eyes gorged on Camila's long legs, her wide childbearing hips, and her C-cup breasts. She might have been roughed up in the jungle but she was still a stunner.
