Uncharted: Lost Legacy - Two Girls, One Elephant

BY : salarta
Category: +S through Z > Uncharted series
Dragon prints: 2050
Disclaimer: I do not own Uncharted, its characters or any ideas or concepts contained herein. This story is a mere fan-made work, and I make no money or profit from its creation and dissemination.

Author's Note: This took a lot longer than I expected to finish. There are parts of this I'm unsure about, and I don't have anyone to pass them by this time. If they're a problem, I may delete this story.


"Two girls, one elephant. Not the classiest title, but then, porn was never about class."

Since their journey started, Chloe always found the best playful zingers to lighten the mood. They came in handy for dark, depressing moments - and if any part of their time together required it most, this was certainly it.

They sat in a wooden howdah. Frazer in front, Ross in back. Ropes bound their wrists to the armrests, knees and ankles to supporting struts, and waists to their backboards. To add further shame, Asav had seen to it that his men forced their legs far apart. Whether or not they stumbled upon some random tourists in the Western Ghats, Chloe and Nadine knew his deeper meaning. Their failure. Their shame. Their stuffed pussies glistened in full view, insecurity and weakness spread bare for anyone to see.

Like the rest of their bodies.

Harsh summer sun beat down on their nakedness. After a couple hours, the two were a filthy, sweaty, sweltering mess. Damp hair clung to their foreheads. Muscles ached with stiffness. What started as dirt became a runny smearing mud that found its way in every crack they had. Nothing special, nothing sacred, only a slurry coating for the offal of treasure hunting.

Of course, unlike any ordinary man, Asav was not content to stop there. His keen, cunning intellect and lack of a soul would not allow such a paltry defeat. He needed something more. Further insult, splayed across their nasty bodies in a way the truly cultured might deem sublime. It took time, but he found it. His perfect punishment for the two women who kept meddling in his quest for the Tusk of Ganesh.

For Chloe Frazer, an assortment of fine gold jewelry adorned her body. Anklets. Bracelets. Earrings. She wore them in heavy layers meant to make her look like a bare-breasted would-be queen. Some very careful twining kept a water pot in her left hand and a bag of ancient gold in her right. All the while, Chloe wriggled her toes in the most resplendent pile of gems seen outside of any museum. These treasures weighed on her, but not as much as her wreath of red lotus flowers for a crown.

She knew Asav's intent the moment he inflicted it upon her. Too bad she had a knack for making the most of bad situations. "If you asked me before this trip, I would've told you there's noooo way I would spend hours on a gemstone foot bath. You really have to try it."

Chloe knew her myths. Wealth, beauty and red lotus flowers. Only one Hindu goddess fit the iconography: Lakshmi. Through the trappings on and around her, Chloe exuded unearned prosperity. It clashed with the grit and grease, painting the perfect picture of vain and greedy fool exploiting relics of the past.

Her lack of ostentatious clothes had a tale to tell as well. It went by many names in different cultures. Emperor's New Clothes. King's New Turban. Asav chose the version from Sri Lanka - The Invisible Silk Robe. And what a fitting tribute Chloe became. For all her fine expensive treasures, she lacked the one vital piece that could garner dignity and grace. The fool of a would-be goddess laid herself bare as if money could conceal her crass and unrefined nature. As if a sparkly necklace could turn her lewd tits into fine art. Chloe knew better, but what she knew didn't matter.

Vanity. Asav banked on an interpretation of vanity. A layperson might never figure out the inspiration for this masterpiece, but his real audience was the canvas.

Yet surprisingly, Chloe got off light compared to Asav's true masterpiece.

"Easy for you to say," Nadine said. "You're not the one who's supposed to be fat and ugly."

Unlike with Chloe, Asav took great pains to ensure Nadine knew precisely who she was meant to be. And it was worse. So, so much worse. He wanted to make an example of the tough former Shoreline leader for his hired boys. It showed.

Broom in one hand, water pot in the other, Nadine sat with her kinky locks tumbling down her shoulders. The hair didn't match Asav's source. He simply liked it. Thought the bouffant style drove home a slothful, slovenly impression which served Nadine better. It still had all manner of jewels woven into the strands, to go with her blue lotus wreath.

It didn't stop at hair. The ornaments adorned by her were suitably large and heavy for the 'large and heavy' woman Asav made her out to be. Her beefy arms and legs, her killer abs, her softly hanging lower lip, the man sought to twist these beautiful bounties into a perceived ugliness. Nadine's breasts, full and firm and spreading gloriously upon her chest, would have ruined Asav's plot despite their massive size if not for one detail he added: piercings.

Her red and swollen nipples throbbed. Thick, linked gold chains weighed them down, jostling more jolts of pain free whenever she so much as shifted. Those chains made her tits droop into the pendulous pair spoken of in her goddess' legends. They hung loose, down to her navel where a third gemstone glistened. Worse, the gem failed to outshine the nasty sweat factory of her body. Like a thin layer of detritus, it slaked her skin thoroughly enough to smother any dry spot. A dense black thicket under her arms fumed a potent musk.

Yet, for the first hour of their journey, gold and jewels had something other than sweat to sparkle alongside them.

Cum. Spunk. Semen. Even dried and dull, its stench burned in Nadine's prominent nose - another feature Asav said made her the 'spitting image' of who he chose for her. Wads continued to ooze from her armpits, where dampness thrived most. Splotches haphazardly coated the rest. The bulk of it went to her biceps, thighs and belly, to assert manly authority over how rock hard she made herself.

The scar on her neck didn't escape, either. That went to Orca. He traced a long white line across every bare inch of it until he 'owned' her toughest feature.

Many of Shoreline's men obviously asked to blast their seed all over Nadine's 'bitchy' face, as they loudly and repeatedly called it. If they had their way, she would have a thick creamy mask of it gunking up every square inch, gluing her pretty eyes shut. The closest they got was a little dribble on her chin. Asav wouldn't allow any closer. The clarity of her dark complexion mattered too much to him, for its color - not 'black as ink' but close enough - and the small tilaka mark on her forehead completed the portrait of who she was: Jyestha.

Whereas Lakshmi stood for good fortune and beauty, her counterpart of myth and legend covered the other half. Poverty, misfortune, sorrow, and ugliness. While Shoreline's men provided Nadine with their pungent parting gift, Asav spent that whole time rattling off how he thought she exuded these traits.

War after war, Nadine led her soldiers to defeat. Failure brought losses. Skilled soldiers quit or died. Hunger for food and sex alike plagued the remnants. Unsated. Funds depleted, Nadine stood at the top of little more than a trash heap of her own making. In refusing to listen to her lieutenants, she took a reputation established by her late father and turned Shoreline into a laughingstock where only the weakest and dumbest might sign up.

Which left her here. Reeking of jizz from every single man she failed. Wincing through the pretty trinket yanking on her pierced teats. During long moments of silence, Nadine found herself thinking about Asav's taunts. About the jeers of her former men, who kept reminding her how they couldn't get themselves off while looking at her burly arms and chest. About the broom in her hand, doubly insulting her by noting the feminine woman she wasn't and the washed-up, good-for-nothing ex-merc she was. About her lost legacy.

Luckily, Chloe always had a quip to ease her mind. Like the one she spouted now.

"Being fat and ugly has its perks, you know."

"Oh yeah? Name one."

"Plenty of milk for the little ones. You can let them suckle for hours while you're walking around the house barefoot sweeping up the floors. I know that's the dream life you always wanted."

"Shut up, Frazer," Nadine kicked the back of Chloe's seat and chuckled. Until one steep step the elephant took down a cliff jounced her titty chain. Then she grunted through the pain.

If it seemed like Chloe got off light in that fall compared to her partner? She didn't. That same drop slammed a ceremonial brass sugar hammer deeper up her flexing pucker. It was one of their few remarkable finds that Asav allowed them to keep so long as she could hide the booty in her booty. And other places. But especially there.

"You feel that one?" Nadine asked.

"What do you think?" Chloe answered, now dripping with sarcasm to go with her sweat. "Guess I can't say I've never been fisted anymore."

The hammer's arm-shaped handle, all eight inches, forged a path through foreign territory. It invited itself to the party of her prodigious backside like an unwanted guest, parting her cheeks without a care for the host. From bulbous knobs to gentle etched grooves, Chloe's cocktease of a rear mapped the hammer's contours so deftly that the thief treasure hunter could easily dredge it up in a catalog purely based on how it felt inside her.

Which she had. Before sending them off on this filthy, naked expedition, Asav quizzed her on the fine details of her butt plug. 'It should please you to know that you've accurately guessed your bounty,' he'd said, like she should be proud to earn a backhanded compliment from a man as great as him. Its weight, provenance and value - nine pounds, India and too high to list - became odes to her ass' boundless greed.

And that ass didn't exactly protest. Gobbling up the whole length, it clenched tight against a few testing tugs by Asav. Nothing would separate the treasure from her vault. Not even Chloe and Nadine's march to the elephants, in which she shuffled her feet surrounded by the Shoreline mens' constant snickering.

Her face might have burned with shame if she permitted herself to think on how her instinct to hold instead of drop that awkward burden proved Asav's slurs. She wouldn't let him take that last ounce of victory. Head high, she sniffed the air.

Which sounded like a marvelous idea until she did it. Her long nostrils crinkled and burned. The small fire in her nose forced her into a coughing fit. Pungence cascaded around her neck and in front of her face like an awful present she simply had to accept.

"You alright there, Frazer?"

"Couldn't be better," Chloe spluttered, before muttering the rest under her breath. "Note to self, don't stop and smell the roses when you're downwind."

"What was that?"

"Nothing! Nothing."

Chloe looked into the camera lens of her trusty smartphone. It stood on a crude stick stand before them. Throughout the journey, it captured brilliant moments and scenic vistas. Now, a little red dot blinked in the upper left corner alongside the word 'Live'. If Asav had kept it private for the thrill of his own men, that might have brought some comfort. But no. The viewer count ticked higher by the second. Microphone muted, tens of thousands watched a pair of dirty women banter about gods knew what.

Probably what sluts they were. Like most porn stars trying to sell themselves with dirty talk.

"What do you think's the copyright on one of these vids?" Nadine asked.

"I'm more concerned about the data plan, thank you very much."

That wasn't a joke. She didn't have roaming, and Asav, bastardly enough, didn't care. In the wilds, hours at a time, high resolution streaming? Easily five figures. If lucky, the miniature bronze cannon jammed up her wincing cunt might pay for most of it. If her wealth and prosperity spilling down its sides didn't crater its value.


Chloe bit her lower lip. Fierce quaking from within the cannon sent ripples through her thighs. As soon as he'd seen the extra little hole in that relic's tip, Asav slipped the tiny bits from one of his metal detectors down its barrel and stuffed them deeper with a stick until they stayed. Humming away, the newly made vibrator ravaged her puffy slit in cycles of on and off. Five seconds, ten, five seconds, ten, setting her sopping loins ablaze with pleasure before robbing her of release.

"Will this wretched thing ever let me cum!?" she moaned.

"Don't talk about cum," Nadine chided. Just hearing the word impressed upon her the awful feel of it oozing between her shiny breasts, pooling in her lap, gunking up her pits and 'fro. Its salty scent collided with her rising odor, wriggling through her nose to tickle the back of her dry tongue. She gagged.

Chloe squirmed. Explosions of pleasure battered her poor tender folds as the cannon went off. Over. And over. And over. And over. Its vibrations rocked her hard clit. She tensed up whenever the shock buzzed her straight, but with her energy and cunt thoroughly drained, it did all of nothing to the ropes. She looked and felt weak as a doll, licking her chapped lips through another dizzying spell of arousal. At least it numbed the pain from her cuts.

Nadine flexed. Renewed vigor popped the veins in her arms as she muscled through another go at her bonds. Hard sniff, pained grunt, bared pearly whites, she yanked up hard as she could. Her fists shook. She could do it. Puffing out her chest, she powered through her titty chains tugging on her hot horny nubs. Strength rippled through her bulging biceps. Nothing could stop her. Not the ropes. Not the heat. Not the literal stench of failure rising from her spunk coating like a cloud around her head. This time, she would... would...

... give up when the muscle burn became too much for her. Again. She slumped, panting, breathing in the new and improved Shoreline. Fresh sweat dripped down forehead.

Chloe and Nadine. Lakshmi and Jyestha. Fortune and misfortune, vanity and sloth. The thief who fancied herself a treasure hunter and the weakling who thought herself a leader sat atop their mount, as it carried them into a life of no doubt countless failures. Together.

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