Jungle Babe vs Cernunnos

Jungle Girl Omnibus v1-176 03

Chapter 1: Queen of the Wilds

Note from Soul: This is a direct continuation of the Miss Americana vs the Horned God story series; you don’t necessarily have to read them in order to enjoy the, um, juicier parts of this work, but the plot elements might seem a little confusing if you haven’t read the previous ones.

The private jet touched down at a small airstrip just on the outskirts of Delta City. The sky overhead was perfectly clear, the sun reflecting brilliantly off of the plane’s sleek metal form.

After briefly taxiing to the central hangar, it ground to a halt, and a moment later, the forward portal slid aside to allow a folding stairway to descend to ground.

Dana McQueen adjusted her traveling coat and stepped off the aircraft, waving a quick goodbye to the captain and crew. They’d see to it that her luggage and all of the research crates she had brought back were properly unloaded and sent on their way. The crates were bound for the Natural History Museum, artifacts from her most recent sojourn in the dense jungles of central Africa. She was slated to meet with the director tomorrow morning; the Museum wanted to stage a gala to launch the exhibit and thank her for her generosity, and the curator wanted to discuss the details as soon as possible.

The platinum-blonde glanced worryingly at the small black cell phone she gripped in her slender hand. Given the call she’d received while they were en route, she would have to cancel the appointment.

A silver Rolls Royce pulled up to the plane and the driver hopped out to open her door. She smiled a brief greeting to her driver, Seville, before sliding into the spacious back seat. The familiar smell of old leather greeted her as she settled in. Seville pulled away from the plane, driving purposefully back onto the highway and speeding off into the city. It was a familiar routine, one she had completed many times before. Her home was here in Delta City, but her life, and her career, often kept her away for weeks, or even months, at a time. As one of the nation’s premier public faces for environmental conservation, Dana McQueen spent far too much time in board rooms, visiting elected officials, and standing in front of podiums and cameras.

It was a frustrating, if necessary part of her job. Dana had learned long ago that, sometimes, a private word with the right audience could be more effective than anything she could accomplish as her alter ego, Jungle Babe…though the latter method was infinitely more satisfying.

This last trip had kept her away a little longer than she’d anticipated; violent uprisings in the central republics had complicated things very badly. Truth be told, she had been lucky to get out of things unscathed, and with most of her research material intact. It had taken all of her skill, and not a little luck, but she’d secured a plane back to the United States, and had been looking forward to some much needed rest and relaxation, when she’d gotten the call.

She looked anxiously at the phone again, hardly able to believe what she’d been told. Her source was impeccable though, and the worry in her voice had been totally genuine. As much as she wanted to, Dana had no reason to disbelieve her.

Miss Americana, Delta City’s foremost champion, was missing; had been for weeks.

Dana turned her head to look forlornly out the window at the skyline of Delta City looming over the horizon.

“Brenda,” she whispered, “Where the hell did you go?”

* * *

“Talk to me, Tessa.”

Dana was sitting in her spacious study, behind a broad bamboo desk. She was staring at a pretty, bespectacled face on her computer’s wide LCD monitor. It was Tessaract who had called her on the plane. Unwilling to discuss any details on an unsecured line, she had managed only to pass on the most critical bit about Miss Americana’s disappearance, before they’d arranged to talk again as soon as Dana got home.

She was still wearing her traveling coat.

The young info-hound adjusted her glasses nervously. “I’m glad I was able to reach you. Everyone else has been caught up in the crime surge since Miss Americana vanished. They’re all terribly worried, but with every scum bucket and slime ball coming out of the woodwork, they haven’t had a spare moment to mount any kind of a search.”

She rubbed her eyes, and Dana realized the poor girl was probably going on next to no sleep. Tessaract, for as young as she was, was as dedicated to protecting Delta city as any of its costumed heroes, and knowing one of them was out there, perhaps in desperate trouble, would have consumed her every waking thought. Dana would soon learn that it was even worse than that.

“Tell me what happened,” Dana said as soothingly as she could. Tessaract took a deep breath then started talking.

“A few weeks ago, Miss Americana contacted me for help with some strange disappearances around the forests surrounding Nells Barrow and Whitestone Point. Three women had gone missing, each kidnapping roughly two days apart.”

“Kidnapping?” Dana interrupted her, “You had a perp?”

At once, a fuzzy image appeared on her screen, stretching till it encompassed almost the entire frame. A dark shape, vaguely humanoid, crouched before a tall security gate. A pale form was slung across its shoulder. The resolution was bad, but Dana could tell the pale figure was human. Female.

The larger shape though…that was anything but.

“This was taken by a remote security camera at the estate of the third victim. We have video footage that I’ve uploaded to your desktop, but it’s not much better than this.”

Dana stared intently at the monstrous shape. Judging by his relation to the female on his shoulder, he was absolutely massive, eight feet tall or more. The slope of his gait, and the curved protrusions extending from his brow, suggested something more animal than man. She sat back in her chair, trying to make sense of it all. “Did you show all this to Miss Americana?”

Tessa nodded, “This was the last bit of information I’d uncovered before she…” The poor girl swallowed hard. A quiver had entered her voice. “…Before she vanished.”

She swiped angrily at a stray tear, “I told her to be careful, dammit, I did. It’s my fault. I should have convinced her not to go alone. Now she’s missing. Stupid, just stupid…”

Dana’s brow creased sympathetically. The poor girl was beating herself senseless over this.

“You mustn’t blame yourself,” she said, trying to calm her young friend, “We both know how headstrong she can be, and with so many victims in so little time, there was no way she was going to wait. You know that.”

Tessa didn’t answer. She just stared sullenly off-screen.

“Hey,” Dana continued, trying to impart as much optimism into her voice as she could, “You’ve done an amazing job, Tessa, you really have, but you’re working yourself to death. You need to get some sleep, try to clear your head. Send me everything you’ve got, I’ll go over it tonight, and if I have any questions, I’ll be in touch with you in the morning.”

Wishing she could reach through the monitor to squeeze her hand reassuringly, Dana added, “We’re going to find her, Tessa. You and me. We’ll get her back.”

Still uncertain, but clearly a little less rattled, Tessaract nodded quietly. “It’s already there. Everything from my initial investigation, and the last coordinates I received from the wrist tablet she was carrying at the time.”

“Good.” Dana leaned back in her chair, trying to make sense of it all. “Now go get some rest. I have a lot to catch up on.”

A moment later Tessa’s video feed went black, leaving Dana to stare silently at the shoddy still-frame, and the hulking beast it depicted. She focused on slowing her breathing, clearing her thoughts. Something about the thing on screen was igniting a vague memory, but try as she might, she found herself unable to place it. It hung in her mind, a nagging thorn that wouldn’t go away until she figured it out.

She began clicking through the notes in Tessa’s files, as thorough and detailed as always. She smiled wanly, feeling bad about the little white lie she’d told the poor girl.

“I’m sorry, Tessa,” she murmured, “I’m afraid this isn’t going to keep till morning.”

She skimmed over the incident reports and the general summary, digging through the files until she came upon a satellite map of the hilly ranges making up Whitestone Point. There, marked in clinical red dots, was the trail Miss Americana took heading into the area, the automatic pings from her GPS unit. The last known location sat right atop a rise in the terrain, against the rock outcroppings. That was where she’d start.

Rising from her chair, Dana cast off her traveling coat, revealing beneath it the taut animal print bikini and bone jewelry of her alter ego. She swept back her long, platinum hair, and strode out of her study onto the adjoining balcony. Beneath her, the canopy of dense treetops rustled in the gentle evening breeze. The setting sun cast everything in brilliant hues of orange and copper, but Dana was oblivious to the panorama. Her stomach was a knot of concern, and her heart was beating sharply.

Her gorgeous features hardened as she stepped to the edge of the platform. She stared down at the thirty foot drop, her brow furrowed.

“Don’t be dead, you stupid broad,” she muttered. “I’m coming for you.”

With that, she stepped over the edge, and vanished into the trees.

* * *

The forests of Delta City were so unlike the thick, humid jungles she was used to, but despite the urgency of the situation, Dana couldn’t help but feel a surge of sheer joy to be back beneath the trees, to feel the crush of vegetation beneath her feet. This was where she belonged; anywhere else and she was just Dana McQueen, but here, in the wilds…she was free.

With the agility of a panther, Dana charged through the dense forest, dashing through underbrush one moment and bounding across tree branches the next; she moved between the two extremes with practiced ease. The evening was chilly, but with the heat coursing through her perfect figure, she paid it absolutely no heed. Through the canopy, radiant beams of moonlight shafted towards the ground, islands of pale light in the otherwise impenetrable dim. The darkness would have been daunting for even a seasoned ranger, or any other superheroine, but to Jungle Babe, it might as well have been the middle of the day. Preternatural senses guided her rapid movement; her eyes caught even the slightest illumination and reflected it out. Her every breath brought in a wave of scents from the forest around her, instantly identifying rotting trees or stagnant pools of water in deep furrows, all of which she deftly avoided. A chorus of night insects heralded her passage.

But as she broke through the tree line into a small clearing, her wild-sense immediately alerted her to a new presence. Instantly she broke stride, curling into a silent roll, and stopping in a three-point crouch, as still as a shadow. Every one of her senses cranked to their maximum, and her keen eyes scanned the heavy woods for any sign of…there!

Beneath the heavy foliage, Dana saw the tell-tale sheen of twin, floating orbs; she was being watched, and if there was one, there were sure to be more.

She knew them by their scent, though they would not recognize her. Slowly, but confidently, Dana rose to her feet. She took a long breath, focusing her thoughts, her will. She gathered the essence of the message she wished to convey, and projected it forward into the dark, just as a swimmer might cast out a wave. The message was simple. “Greetings. I mean you no harm.”

At first there was nothing, just the sigh of the leaves as their branches danced in the wind, but soon, she heard furtive, curious movement. From beneath the shadow of a great hollow tree, a large, gray shape loped slowly into view. Glimmering gold eyes stared at her fearlessly, but without hostility.

Dana marveled at the regal old wolf standing before her. Once more, she gathered her thoughts, and projected them out as she offered the animal a simple, but genuine, bow. “Hail, Old One. I come in peace.”

Dana didn’t fully understand how her power worked. Maybe it was some kind of telepathy, or animal empathy, but she had discovered long ago that she could convey her thoughts and feelings, and most animals could respond. When they did, she was always left in silent wonder; every one had its own voice, every one different.

So like people, she thought ruefully. If only more humans could hear what she did.

When the old wolf answered, his thoughts seemed to sniff at her. “Human. Yet not. Why are you here?”

“A member of my pack is missing. I’m trying to find her,” she projected, shifting into parlance he would recognize.

The old wolf seemed to grasp her deeper meaning. “Good. A pack cares for its own. Especially these nights.”

Dana frowned. “’These nights’? What do you mean, Old One?”

The wolf’s ears fell back, and he pawed the ground in agitation. “Forest dangerous now. Different. Bad smells. Bad sounds. The deer are scared, they flee. We chase them…but hunting is difficult.” He glanced over his shoulder almost mournfully. Dana felt his pain. “We are leaving too. All of us.”

From behind him stepped a dozen smaller gray shapes, wolves of different sizes and age. His pack. They formed a loose semi-circle across from her, all of them eyeing her warily, but in deference to their leader not one took a single step towards her.

They looked hungry.

Dana looked back to the old wolf, her face saddened. “When did this happen?”

“When last the moon was full,” he answered, gesturing at the bright orb overhead. “We heard a great howl, deep in the mountains. The slayings came soon after. And the mist.”

As if they could hear their leader’s words, the pack began to shift anxiously, their white teeth gleaming. The old wolf snarled a low, short bark, stilling them. He turned back to Dana. “My pack wishes to leave. I can hold them back no more. Be safe, human. Find your pack. Then be gone from here.”

The old wolf rounded on his pack and began loping away into the thick forest. They melted into the darkness behind him, only one or two bothering to glance back at the strange creature left standing befuddled in the clearing. Dana watched them go, and in a moment, she was alone once again.

Her thoughts were racing, and the urgency in her chest now intertwined with a beat of growing anger. This monster, this Beast, was a menace not just to the people of the city, but to the very creatures that called this forest their home.

She would not stand for it, not after it hurt her friend, not after what it had done to these animals. No matter what it was, if it breathed, it could be killed.

She meant to do just that.

* * *

The gasping moan that woke Sandra was distant and muffled, obscured by the heavy stone blocks that made up the subterranean temple that the Beast called its home. The blonde vixen’s eyes fluttered sleepily before she arched her back in a taut, feline stretch. A casual toss of her luxuriant mane set it right, and though the room was almost pitch black, she found she could see perfectly well. Silently she hopped off the thick cushions that made up her bed and padded across the dark room. Raking her fingers across the smooth stone wall, she found the secret catch that opened her portal into the temple proper, noting, not for the first time, how simultaneously primitive and brilliant the strange mechanism was. She pressed the switch in with a click, and the wall suddenly shifted in front of her to the sound of distantly grinding stone. Sandra only waited for the briefest of cracks to fully open before she slipped out into the wide hallway, stepping faster now.

The moans grew louder and more distinct the further into the temple she went, but she already knew where they would lead her. She broke right suddenly, ascending a cleverly concealed stairway that led up to a narrower hallway, one side of which overlooked a wide, circular room below.

Her master’s bed chambers. Almost instinctively Sandra felt her arousal spike a notch, just from entering the room. She had been taught many lessons here, and her body was quick to remember them. From the sounds coming from below, it was clear her master was busy delivering his particular brand of ‘instruction’ at that very moment.

Silently, Sandra crept up to the banister, concealing herself behind a wide, stone column, and peered down. She had mentally prepared herself for what she was sure she’d discover, but the sight still made her draw in a sharp breath.

Below her, upon a great circular mattress, her master, the demonic Beast, reclined lazily on his back. Astride his hips, legs splayed wide to straddle his large frame, a woman with long, dark hair and flawless alabaster skin writhed in sexual torment. Her hands were braced on the broad expanse of his chest, fingers entwined in his thick fur mantle, while her hips rocked uncontrollably against him. His clawed hands had her by the supple curve of her hips, guiding her motions, moving her back and forth onto the regal column of his cock. Every cycle drew with it a new chorus of feminine moans from his beautiful captive, her eyes closed in penetrated bliss.

“Faster, my pet,” her Master rumbled, “Show me how badly you crave it, and I shall fill you to the brim!”

Sandra felt his voice wash over her, and she barely suppressed a shudder of desire. She’d been in that same position many times, and without fail, such a command would have sent her body into overdrive, would have set her hips into a furious rhythm of uncontrollable fucking that would have had her screaming in multiple orgasms long before he would reach his peak. Helpless in his grip, filled to the depths of her being by his monstrous, conquering organ, Sandra would have no more been able to deny him than she could fly.

And yet, to her wide, disbelieving eyes, the curvaceous ass of his newest concubine actually slowed its motions, her head shaking back and forth in wild, desperate denial.

“N-nooo….! I c-can’t…musn’t…I…ooh!” she gasped raggedly, massive breasts heaving, as she struggled to contain the lust rampaging inside her. Sandra stepped back quickly when the woman’s eyes suddenly opened, wide and imploring, staring up towards where she hid as if desperately searching for a way out. But her beautiful blues were glazed, distant; Sandra’s fears of being seen were unfounded. The Beast’s fucktoy was too far gone to perceive much more than the throbbing, rigid phallus mercilessly pounding her into submission.

Sandra couldn’t help but feel a twinge of awe. Brenda Wade, the fallen Miss Americana, was either a phenomenal actress, or she really was harboring some hidden reserves of resistance somewhere in that sex-addled mind of hers. It was almost unbelievable, but she actually seemed to deserve some of her reputation as Delta City’s greatest hero. This wasn’t the first time Sandra had seen some of her old spark reignite, and every time she was sure it would be the last, yet somehow she still persisted.

Like a lioness drawn to the scent of fresh blood, Sandra felt herself reacting to her sudden display of resistance. Such strength was to be admired, cherished…and savored as it was snuffed out. The wicked blonde gnawed her lip hungrily and leaned further out over the balustrade, eagerly anticipating the show that was sure to follow.

She didn’t have to wait long.

Brenda’s trembling resistance was soon met by the Beast’s low, menacing chuckle. His hands suddenly tightened their grip on her hips, pulling her fully against him until the entire length of his taming cock was deeply buried in her hot, wet folds. Brenda let out a hoarse gasp as the sensation of him so deep inside her drove the air from her lungs.

“Still resisting, are we?” he leered up at her, smoldering eyes drinking in the sight of her tits as they swayed in front of him. “Still trying to be the hero? Well, let’s see how resolute you truly are.”

Holding her firmly against him, the Beast opened his fanged maw and exhaled. A current of thick, green mist cascaded down his chest, lazily curling towards the beautiful heroine trapped against his hips. It splashed against her thighs, rolled over them where they lay astride his torso, and curled around her waist in an undulating, serpentine embrace. Brenda’s eyes widened in dull recognition of what was happening, and she grabbed at his hands, trying vainly to dislodge herself from his grip, but he held her fast. More of the cloying miasma issued from his fanged mouth, but instead of spilling over the mattress and to the ground like natural mist, the vapor moved as if alive.

It continued to wrap around her lower body, growing thicker by the second, as if drawn to the taste of her pale, smooth skin. Slivers and tendrils of it began to crawl up her back, to flow across her taut belly, rising inexorably higher with every heartbeat. Brenda gasped as the unnatural caresses made her skin erupt in tingling goose bumps. Her struggles grew wild.

“No, please no!” she begged, “Don’t make me want it…don’t make me like it…please…nnoooh…”

The coils of green mist had reached her heavy breasts, and had quickly wrapped around them in curling, languid spirals. Brenda’s mouth quivered, her protests dying in her throat, as a hellish, liquid warmth engulfed her tits. Her nipples rose to rigid attention as fingers of vapor circled and lapped against them. The motion of her trembling hands against his grip of her hips began to slow, growing clumsy, befuddled. Still the mist played over her breasts, until they drew a long, unbidden moan from Brenda’s slackening lips.

Sandra watched, eyes wide, her pussy dripping. She knew exactly what poor Brenda must be feeling right now. The mist, her master’s essence, was a powerful aphrodisiac. It clouded the mind, dulled the will, and awakened the most wickedly arousing need for submission, for penetration. Even the sensation of it against her skin would make her unbearably sensitive, needy, desperate to be touched. Under such concentrated attention, Brenda’s breasts would be practically throbbing, and just when Sandra began to wonder how long the poor girl would be able to stand it, she got her answer.

Brenda’s hands began to glide, haltingly, away from the Beast’s grip of her hips. They rose up her waist, over her ribs. Brenda was still shaking her head in useless denial, but her hands were not listening to her any more. They heard the desperate call of her heavy, humming tits…and moved to answer.

“OH! Oh…god…” Brenda could only shudder, as her warm hands sank into the heated flesh of her breasts and beginning to caress them with intimate familiarity. She whimpered as she molested her own tits, her taut nipples rubbing against the palms of her hands. They moved with a will of their own, pleasuring her just the way she liked it, the way only she knew how. Her secret desires were lewdly displayed before the monster’s smoldering gaze, and she felt his cock twitch appreciatively inside her.

Still he was not done with her. Even as the pleasure from her tits gnawed at her will, still the tendrils of mist continued to climb. They danced up the swells of her breasts, licked against her collarbone, and coiled around her neck. She seemed to sense the ethereal caress, for she suddenly tossed her head back, straining, like a diver struggling to break surface…but there was nowhere to escape. The mist seemed to gather in ebb, like the swell of a tide, before surging forward and engulfing her completely.

“Nooo…! Nn…ooh…” Brenda moaned, as her lungs were suddenly filled with the evil, enslaving vapor. Her wide, blue eyes instantly grew glassy, and her red lips parted in a slack moan. Her treacherous hands suddenly redoubled their efforts, crushing her breasts between her slender fingers. She groaned.

“Yes, my pet,” The Beast whispered, “You feel it, don’t you? Your lust fills you. Drowns you. You cannot resist.”

“I…can’t…resist…” Brenda slowly repeated. Her head swam. She lolled upon him, swaying blindly. She would have toppled over, but his unyielding rigidity held her upright. Her suddenly heavy, hooded eyes struggled to focus. “Can’t…oooh…”

Fully in the grip now of the sexual fog, Brenda’s breathing grew heavier, labored. A hot blush rushed across her chest and cheeks, as all her thoughts grew hazy and indistinct, except for the burning throb of her stuffed pussy and aching tits. It was impossible to focus on anything else. She felt him inside her, felt his heartbeat thud in the thick, heavy veins of his cock, filling her, touching her deeper than anyone ever had. She felt her juices flowing over him, felt herself growing wetter by the second. She ached for him. Brenda moaned helplessly, her hips rocking against her will. But his iron grip prevented all but the smallest of motion, and soon her lust began to overtake the small jolts of pleasure she was able to spark with her stilted movements.

“Ooh…oh please…I can’t take it…please…!” she pleaded, falling backwards, only catching herself by planting her hands against his chorded thighs.

“What do you need, woman?” he taunted her, reaching up to capture her right breast in his hand and making her moan, “Tell me.”

Sandra watched as the last of Brenda’s resistance seemed to melt out of her. Her eyes sank shut, her head falling backwards so that her long black hair waved against her arching back. Her hips rolled against him, trying desperately to move. When she spoke, her voice was thick with lust.

“Your cock,” she breathed, “I-I need to…fuck…your cock! Please…!”

Chortling, the beast let go of her straining hips, and with a groan of ecstatic release, Brenda began to saw her hips up and down the thick spike of his godhood. She shuddered, moving faster and faster, filling the chamber with the slick sounds of her pussy sluicing around his shaft. When he seized her other tit in his clawed hand, working them both, Brenda cried out as the first orgasm ripped through her. Despite the waves of pleasure, her hips did not slow; they continued to fuck over his cock, until a second orgasm fired right on the heels of the first.

Sandra almost felt a twinge of pity for her. She was his plaything now, her body merely a puppet of his will, and he wouldn’t let her stop until his own needs were sated. By then, her mind would be a bubbling pool of almost constant orgasm, her whole world his taming cock and the wicked pleasures it could give. Sandra clenched her thighs together, feeling the wetness soaking her. God, how she envied her.

Just then, Sandra heard a leathery flap behind her, and she turned just in time to see her sister, the redhead Angie, sidle up next to her by the balustrade. No matter how many times she saw her, Sandra was still taken by how dramatically she’d changed in just a few short weeks. They all had, of course; Sandra’s own transformation was no less dramatic, but there was something positively fae-ish in Angie that made hers all the more shocking.

Something had happened to them, Angie, Carmen and her, something that had been slowly building since the day the Master had chosen them as his brides. Maybe it was some property of the mist, or the almost daily exposure to his inhuman seed, but all of them had been changed. Transformed. They had become more than human, or perhaps less, for each of them now bore their own unique animal traits, lesser chimera than the monstrous apogee that was their sire.

Sandra had been the first to change. First had been her eyes, which had grown golden and feral. Her ears followed, lengthening to a point, and now able to hear in ways Sandra couldn’t have imagined just weeks ago. Her hands and feet had gained retractable claws, wickedly sharp, and short, silky fur covered her arms to her elbows, and her legs to just above her knees. The day she awoke with her tail was one she would never forget; the initial shock had worn away quickly, and strangely, her new body had felt remarkably comfortable. Familiar. On the occasions she had spent contemplating her new existence, she likened the change to a butterfly finally casting off the shell of the lowly caterpillar. This was her true self made manifest, her body shaping itself to better fit her soul.

She felt powerful. Feral. Alive.

But if her metamorphosis was dramatic, she couldn’t imagine what Angie had gone through. The lovely redhead was similarly covered in a glossy red coat, adorning her in patterns of rings and bands up and down her arms and legs. Like Sandra, her torso, at least her front, remained fastidiously free of any body hair at all. Angie had speculated aloud once that their forms were cast in their Master’s ideal vision for his concubines; feral, yet flawlessly feminine in all the right places. Most dramatic of all though were the pair of long, bat-like wings that extended from her shoulder blades and folded neatly against her almost like a cape. Her pronounced ears, beguiling red eyes, and just-visible fangs completed the picture. Her vampiric features were belied by the same guileless, innocent face Sandra had come to know, but beneath the veneer of playfulness, a new, malicious streak seemed to be gaining force. Sandra was often surprised by how cruel the new Angie could be.

“You wish it was you down there, don’t you?” Angie said with a sideways glance, smirking mischievously at her older sister. “How long has it been since the Master took you into his bed? Three days? Four?”

She wrapped a slender arm around Sandra’s waist, her hand falling to rest just below her hip. Her fingers traced suggestive circles against Sandra’s pale flesh, making her shiver. “Poor sister, I’ll bet you’ve got all sorts of pent up…frustrations…you need worked out.” She gazed alluringly into Sandra’s gold eyes, “I’d be happy to help…?”

Sandra wasn’t sure how she felt about Angie’s new, aggressive personality; her more dominant side chaffed at the youngling presuming such familiarity with her. It wasn’t that long ago that Sandra had, frequently, twisted the pretty redhead into so many sexual knots that she barely knew her own name. But at the same time, the sultry, predatory gleam in her crimson eyes was undeniably exciting. Angie had several other physical endowments that Sandra was eager to experiment with…but now wasn’t the time.

She felt restless, and horny to be sure, but there was only one thing that would scratch her itch, and right now it was busy turning a buxom former superheroine into a panting, cum-crazed slut.

She feigned indifference to her sister’s advances, straightening to her full, regal height. “The Master’s been preoccupied of late, but I’ve decided to save my…frustrations…until he can properly slake them.” To Angie’s disappointed pout, she said, “Don’t worry, dear sister. I’ll find a use for that clever tongue of yours before too long.”

She could see what might have been a small tantrum flare up behind Angie’s red eyes, but the bat was able to quell her disappointment, turning instead to watch the moaning copulation on the bed below. After a pause, she asked, “Why do you suppose he’s so taken with her?”

Sandra bristled. The little bitch, she knew the quip would annoy her. Sandra wouldn’t soon forget the indiscretion; the next time they shared a bed, she would make sure to remind Angie of just who was in charge of their little menagerie. But to betray her emotions now would just play into the winged harlot’s game. Sandra answered her truthfully.

“It’s her strength of will,” she said, watching the dark haired beauty writhe upon her Master’s loins. “He lives for the hunt. Nothing excites him more than feeling a woman succumb to him. And she, for all her other obvious assets, remains an elusive sort of prey. He takes her, again and again, and every time she musters the will to fight he crushes it. For a time, she is his helpless toy, his eager slave. But somehow or other, part of her always manages to fight free of his control.”

She licked her lips, remembering the times she herself had taken the recalcitrant former Miss Americana and fucked her back into wet, willing compliance. Feeling the woman’s will slowly bend, seducing away her convictions, until she was once again cumming like the tawdry whore she was…it was absolutely intoxicating. She couldn’t fault her Master for indulging in such a prime catch. But everything had its limits, and if what she just saw was any indication, Miss Americana did too.

“She’s growing weaker, you know,” she continued, eyeing Angie with a lioness’ certainty. “Every time she succumbs, he chips away at her hidden reserves. She can barely resist him any more, and her spikes of fortitude come further and further apart. It won’t be long, and her mind and heart will finally accept what her body already knows. She belongs to him. To us. And when the novelty wears off, it is our beds he will find satisfaction in.”

My bed, Sandra mentally corrected herself. I am his first.

Angie just shrugged, smiling inscrutably. “You hope.”

Before Sandra could find words for her suddenly twisted tongue, the pretty redhead turned and skipped back down the stone stairway, humming a nonsense chord as she left. Sandra hated being tongue tied, and anger swelled inside her. That haughty little tramp needed a harsh lesson in humility.

A sharp, urgent moan from the couple below drew her attention. The master had flipped Brenda onto her back, pinning her knees beside her luscious breasts so that she was maximally spread for him. Helpless and vulnerable, she could only moan and cry in submissive bliss as he plowed into her dripping pussy. What discernable words she could utter between her nonsense moaning urged him to fuck her faster, harder.

“Ooh yes, YES!” she cried, arching beneath him. “More, fuck me MORE! Don’t stop, oh please, don’t ever sstAAAAAHH!”

Sandra’s tail twitched restlessly behind her. She stared at the writhing brunette, at the angry red organ skewering her eager pussy, and slowly, despite all her bravado, Sandra felt the icy wriggle of doubt turn acidly in her belly.

Jungle Babe — In the Clutches of Cernunnos

Chapter 2: In the Garden of Evil

Dana McQueen, or Jungle Babe, as the press had named her, was barely cognizant of her surroundings as she charged with reckless speed through the green canopy of Whitestone forest. She was moving totally by instinct, deftly maneuvering through the tangled branches with barely a second glance. This was second nature to her, and she could move as quickly through heavy foliage as a fish could swim through water. As the trees opened up into a partial clearing up ahead, she pushed herself faster still. On the final tree, she grabbed hold of a higher branch like a gymnast would grab a bar, using her momentum to vault into the open air of the clearing. Her body twisted in a tight somersault, flipping once, twice, before she landed perfectly on a solid branch of maple across the wide, empty expanse. Here she paused, breathing quickly but easily. She took stock of her bearings.

She’d been moving for a few hours now, trekking deep into the woods towards the hills where Miss Americana’s last transmission had been traced. It had been some time since she’d encountered the wolf pack, and since then, the woods had been eerily silent. Normally, the pulse of life would be all around her, suffusing the green space in layers of bustling, secret activity. The unnatural quietude made her terribly uneasy. Even the insects were quiet.

She had to be getting closer. From her vantage point, she could almost make out the rise of the Whitestone Hills in the far distance. The bright moon overhead did its best to illuminate the sleeping forest below, but ahead of her, a shifting haze was slowly growing thicker. Almost like a cloud had sunk to hug the forest itself, a pale, gauzy softness was masking the distant trees from view.

That must be it, she thought to herself; the mists the wolves had been fleeing from.

She glanced down at the forest floor some twenty feet beneath her. Through the lower branches, she could see the heavily leaf-strewn ground, and upon it, she caught her first real look at the strange fog the Old Wolf had spoken so fearfully of. Writhing in thin, long currents, exploratory tendrils wove in and out of the tangled underbrush, serpents of sickly green that shone eerily in the dark. She was still too far from the center of the cloud to see much more than one or two rivulets of the stuff, but even looking just a few dozen yards ahead, she could see them growing thicker.

Trepidation and caution twisted in her midsection, but her resolve kept them in check. She didn’t know what the stuff was, but as long as she kept to the tree branches, it looked as though she’d be able to avoid it. For now, at least.

Dana began to notice other things changing as she ventured further into the forest. Besides the steadily-thickening fog, the entire coloration of the woods was starting to shift. The vibrant green she had just passed through was becoming mottled with the Autumn colors of oranges and yellows, and every breeze that passed by seemed to sing with the rustle of falling leaves. At the same time, the trees themselves seemed to grow…paler, somehow, their bark turning an odd shade of white. She paused at one point to take a closer look, but when she brushed her hand against the rough wood, it chipped away almost like roughly hewn plaster, brittle and dry.

“The trees, are they dying?” she wondered in mute shock. But that didn’t seem right either; beneath the crumbling

bark the wood seemed vibrant, almost…pulsing, and an unusually thick, pale sap wept slowly out from the ragged gash she’d left in the tree’s skin.

God. It almost looks like they’re…bleeding.

She failed to suppress a shudder.

Something was happening to the trees, that much was clear, but what exactly she had no way of guessing. Whatever corruption festered at the center of this miasma was slowly spreading its infection outward, with no telling of how far it would continue if it went unopposed. There were little villages scattered along the perimeter of the forest, both affluent city dwellers and their getaway homes, and the natives whose presence here traced back generations.

The mist might even now be bearing down on their very doors. But even beyond them, Delta City itself was only a few scant miles away.

The scope of it made Dana pause. Things were worse than she thought they’d be; much worse. She might very well be in over her head; what she thought was a straight-forward search and rescue was clearly far more significant, and her failure would mean not only disaster for herself and Miss Americana, but for hundreds of innocent people.

Should she turn around, try to get help from the city? How much time did she have?

How much time did Brenda have?

She wrestled with those thoughts, but she already knew what her answer would be. She couldn’t back down now. She had to stop whatever was happening here before it got any stronger. Help might be days from coming, and by then it might be too late…both for the city, and for Miss Americana.

She would have to do it alone.

Steeling her resolve, Dana resumed her death-defying charge through the rapidly-thinning tree tops. In some ways, the gravity of the situation imbued her movements with a new rush of vigor; she ran faster, jumped further, her body hummed like a finely tuned engine rushing to redline. Failure was not an option. She would save Brenda. She would stop this monster.

She was the queen of the fucking jungle.

It was this surge of confidence that boosted her charge into the misty woods; unfortunately for Dana, the forest did not share in her burning spirit. As she righted her flip to land deftly on the broad tree limb she’d been aiming for, she heard a brittle crackle that made her heart stop cold. Despite its girth, nearly a foot and a half thick, the tree branch she’d landed on was as fragile as kindling. The force of her impact caused it to break from the trunk in a spray of ashen splinters. In a heartbeat, she was suddenly in freefall.

A normal person would have plummeted to the ground, but Dana was hardly normal. With the grace of a cat, she shifted her momentum and rolled into a backwards flip, catching sight of a lower branch as she fell. Her hands lashed out to grab it, and for a moment, it felt as though the shuddering limb would hold her weight…but seconds later, she heard that wrenching crackle again, and once more she was falling.

This time, she was going to hit ground.

She braced herself for the impact, turning again in midair. The branch had at least managed to break her fall, but even so the drop was at least twenty feet. She touched down as lightly as possible, landing on all fours to distribute her weight and let her core absorb the impact. She winced as her muscles strained, but rushed with relief when she did not feel her wrists or ankles shatter at the collision. The softness of the ground helped. All around her, wooden debris rained down from the sickly treetops, covering her in pale, brittle bark and glass-stem twigs.

When the hail of detritus had ceased, Dana risked looking up, and saw the tunnel of broken branches her fall had left in its wake. The tree itself was just slowing its sway, but for as brittle as its branches had become, the main body seemed mercifully (and strangely) resilient. Pale sap was already bubbling out of the cracked bases of the branches, dripping to the ground in heavy, sticky streams. She stood up gingerly, and checked herself for any unnoticed wounds.

A few scrapes, a few spots that were sure to bruise, and a wounded ego, but besides that she felt no worse for wear. There was no question, the trees were no longer a safe avenue for her to traverse. She’d have to make it along the ground. But, that meant…

Dana whirled, eyes searching the forest floor. They found what she was looking for, and her heart started racing just a little faster.

The force of her fall had generated enough of a gust that it had created a small, clear circle on the forest floor, but now the slow tide of the mist was flowing back in to fill the gap. It spilled along the leafy sod, rolling with blind liquidity, until it was lapping at her legs, ankle deep.

It had to be a trick of the eye, but she could swear the stuff was actively moving toward her.

At the first touch of the unnatural mist against her skin, Jungle Babe couldn’t help but shudder. It did not look or feel like any fog she’d ever encountered in the wild before; it was strangely thick, clinging, and felt weirdly oily against her skin. She looked uneasily around her at the pale, twisted trees. Exposure to this stuff was clearly not in her best interests. She needed to hurry and try to find some higher ground.

The trouble was, the mist was getting thick enough here that the ground was almost perfectly blanketed by the stuff, like slowly roiling snow, such that she couldn’t see it hardly at all. As much as she wanted to rush headlong through the forest, without being able to pick her footfalls she was liable to catch a root and twist an ankle, or worse. No, she would have to move carefully, but quickly. Thankfully, the moon overhead was more clearly visible now that the leaf cover was breaking, and the moonlight reflected off the mist to cast everything in muted, pale light. She checked her bearings, made mental note of the direction she needed to continue traveling, and set out.

The going wasn’t as slow as she’d feared, but it was harder. The ground was unusually loamy, and her feet sank into the leafy soil mix with every step. It was almost like walking on damp sand. It wasn’t long before her hurried pace and the too-yielding ground had her legs burning from the exertion. The heat from her effort coupled with the dank humidity made it feel like steam was coming off her body. Rivulets of cool perspiration would periodically run down her back and into the deep well of her cleavage. She was breathing heavier, more so than she’d expected.

Half an hour of walking later, with the mist growing steadily thicker as she went, Dana was breathing hard. As the mist had continued to thicken, a deep, earthy scent had slowly begun to assert itself in her awareness. Like old, overturned earth, the heady aroma permeated the air. And yet, despite its strangeness, Jungle Babe couldn’t help but find it…alluring. She took some tentative breaths, then longer ones, trying to discern the underlying scent she just couldn’t place, but the mist filling her lungs was making her strangely lightheaded. She stopped, leaning gingerly against a towering, pale oak tree, and tried to catch her breath. She couldn’t understand why she was feeling so winded; just an hour ago she had been leaping through the trees and barely broke a sweat, and here she was merely walking, and it felt like she’d just run for miles.

She felt weirdly uncomfortable. Her body felt hot and overexerted, while at the same time the preternatural cool of the mist was making her break out in chilled goose bumps. She seemed to be getting increasingly aware of sensation against her skin; she felt acutely aware of every bead of sweat, every kiss of the night breeze. Even the friction of the sparse fabric of her bikini cut costume was getting mildly distracting.

And the damned mist was getting thicker by the minute. It was still more pronounced around her legs, nearly to her knees now, but everywhere she looked a gauzy haze had come over the forest, making navigation difficult and her eyes burn from lack of focus. She screwed her eyes shut tight and massaged them with her free hand, suddenly aware of how tired they felt too. Weird. If she didn’t know better, she would almost think she was being…

Her eyes shot open, cold realization sinking in.

“Drugged,” she grimaced, looking at her faintly trembling hand with angry certainty. “This is no ordinary mist.

It’s some kind of…poison.”

But the flash of understanding did nothing to help her situation. Her heart hammered as the depth of her predicament began to dawn on her. She looked back at the way she’d come, her path now totally swallowed by the fog. A sinking feeling threatened to take hold and shift into full panic. She couldn’t retreat; she was too deep in it now. The only option was to forge ahead.

“Steady yourself. Control your breathing. You’re nearly to the hills; you’ll find some elevation, clear your lungs. Just stay steady. Don’t panic.”

It was easier said than done, but Dana didn’t have much choice. She set off, moving as quickly as she dared, grateful that the surge of adrenaline seemed to be fighting off the weariness that had been settling in her aching limbs. She only needed to keep it up for a little while longer, and she’d have a chance at figuring out a plan.

As she walked deeper into the hazy forest, she began to notice that the trees were become more noticeably misshapen. Their shadowy forms gnarled and twisted in strange ways, and the most badly changed ones seemed to be covered in thick, dangling vines, like overgrown ivy without any leaves. She eyed them warily, but the long strands of serpentine fiber merely hung limply from the trees, swaying blindly in what little breeze there was to disturb them. Once, when no alternative path was available, Dana was forced to edge her way past a crawling mass of them, and saw for the first time that the same pale sap that bled from the trees positively oozed from these strange vines; every inch of them was covered in the thickly flowing substance, from a source she could not identify, messily dripping to form cloudy puddles beneath them.

As she edged past the hanging vines, she saw that the trees opened into a small clearing. A great, coiled mass of the strange vines created a thick web in the tree canopy above, so dense that they blocked out the pale moonlight and cast the clearing into deep umbra.

“Just a little farther,” she thought, trying to reassure herself, “You’re n-nearly to the base of the hills…”

Jungle Babe couldn’t see it, but a glazed, faraway look had started to come over her eyes. The growing pull of sleepiness was making it hard to focus, hard to concentrate. Her eyes, when open, where heavy and hooded; and every blink seemed to take more and more effort to fight through. With the rising drowsiness also came a strange, heady heat. A hot blush had risen on her cheeks, and her whole body was getting warmer by the minute. The sensation of her breasts shifting against her leopard print top had brought her nipples to rigid attention. Now, every movement seemed to cause her costume to rub across them, setting off tiny sparks of sensation that were so…distracting…

“Need…fresh air…feeling…woozy…” she moaned, swaying noticeably now with every step. She managed to make it to the center of the clearing, when suddenly something grabbed at her ankle beneath the milky surface of the mist.

Jungle Babe let out a startled cry as she stumbled forward, barely managing to catch her balance before she toppled totally to the ground.

“What the hell was that?!” she swore under her breath, spinning, vainly trying to catch sight of whatever had tripped her, but the mist swirled inscrutably around her legs. She stood stock still in the hazy forest, listening, turning every one of her senses as high as they would go, but the forest was eerily still. She could barely see anything beneath her knees, and the only sounds were the rustling trees, the halting pant of her breathing, and the pounding of her pulse in her ears.

She cursed her jumpy nerves. It was just a damned root, Dana, or a bush. You’re in the damn woods. Get a hold of yourself. Yet something inside her was clamoring in alarm. Even muddled, her instincts were telling her something was terribly wrong here.

Something brushed wetly against her bare calf, and she spun, kicking it away, but the jarring movement sent her foggy head reeling. She lurched, nearly tripping, and only just managed to right herself before she totally lost her balance.

“Oh god, my reflexes,” she grimaced, fighting back the gauzy dizziness threatening to overtake her, “This mist…it’s affecting me…worse than I thought…!”

The surface of the mist was roiling with activity now; something—no, a lot of something’s—were moving beneath its surface, all around her. Jungle Babe struggled to keep track of all of it, but her movements felt slow, sluggish.

When the next strike came, a slurping, lingering brush against the inside of her knee, it took a moment for her body to react to her mind’s racing orders to repel it.

Before her leaden hand could strike back, her assailant was gone, leaving her to swing at empty air. She cursed, breathing hard from the effort, swaying dangerously on her feet. She barely registered the smoky tendrils of mist that were curling around her legs and slowly wrapping around her arms, as if hungrily trying to pull her into its swirling embrace.

Another spongy caress, this time against her thigh, was again met with a tellingly delayed reprisal from the panting heroine. Every harried breath drew more of the insidious miasma into her lungs, and soon it felt as though the whole forest was gently swaying around her. “D-dizzy…everything…spinning…” she groaned, a trembling hand at her temple, trying desperately to stop the drunken tilt of her vision. Then, something rose up out of the mist in front of her, and her heavy, half-lidded eyes shot open in wide horror.

At first she thought it was some kind of snake with the way it reared up, like a cobra poised to strike, but it was no snake. It wasn’t even an animal. It was one of the vines, thick, wetly glistening, it’s ‘head’ poised towards her in a gesture of plain menace. She instinctively stepped back, but the tendril did not move to follow. It tracked her movement, almost as if it were watching her, but remained where it was. It undulated in the air, waving side to side in a slow, serpentine rhythm.

Jungle Babe stared at it in shock, horror and disbelief churning inside her. Oh god, what the hell was that thing?

Was it a plant? Some kind of mutant? What the hell did it want…?

She watched it in stunned silence, slowly backing away. “Don’t take your eyes off it for a second!” she cautioned herself, “Your reactions aren’t as fast as they ought to be; if it means to cause trouble, you have to be ready!”

She needed to make it out of the clearing, get some distance…

But as she watched, the tendril merely continued its slow, deliberate movements. Back and forth, swaying side to side. So easy to watch. Almost…relaxing…

Dana continued to stare at it. The serpentine rhythm was drawing her gaze; she followed it with her eyes as it swayed, slowly rocking from side to side. Steady, slow…so…fascinating…

She hadn’t realized it, but she had stopped trying to back out of the clearing. Her rapid, panicked breathing had started to slow, growing deeper. Her eyes followed the coiling dance of the tendril as it wavered in the air. Back and forth. Back…and forth…

Suddenly, Dana realized that she had slowly started swaying too. She blinked her heavy eyes, trying to shake away the strange, languid lethargy she felt herself sinking into, but her head was so foggy. It was getting hard to think…to focus on anything other than the sinuous, swaying tendril in front of her. Her eyes kept getting pulled back to follow its movement, until they began to grow distant…glassy…

Back and forth.

No. No! Something’s wrong, you have to move, you have to run!

“Need to…run…” the increasingly entranced Jungle Babe helplessly muttered, “N-need…to…to…”

The swaying tendril continued its mesmerizing dance, and try and she might, Dana found herself unable to pull her eyes away. The voice inside her head, the one urging her to flee, was growing softer, more distant. Just keep watching, another voice was whispering to her now. It’s so easy to just stare. To watch it dance. It’s so soothing. So relaxing. Don’t look away. You can’t look away…

As Jungle Babe stared in hopeless fascination, the thick, green mist continued its subtle seduction of her body.

Every breath drew more of the sex poison into her lungs. The distracting tingle in her breasts had developed into an insistent ache, and beneath her small triangle of a loincloth, her pussy lips were flushed and swollen, her clit stiffening in blind anticipation. Languid, liquid heat spread through her whole body. Her arousal rose like an unbidden tide as the miasma filled her with evil, unwanted desire, undermining her resolve, weakening her will. Her body was being primed for sex, even as she fell deeper and deeper under the monstrous tentacle’s hypnotic spell.

“Such a good girl,” whispered the strange, compelling voice, “You’re getting weaker, aren’t you? So tired. So relaxed. Watch, my pet, do not look away. Back and forth. Weaker and weaker. Yessss…”

Jungle Babe let out a soft moan as the strength to keep her arms up drained out of her. They fell uselessly to her sides while she slowly swayed in time to the tendril’s serpentine dance. Her heavy eyes struggled to stay open, as she tried vainly to fight off the warm, alluring drowsiness beckoning her to surrender. Her full, red lips were parted in a slack moan. “Getting…so…t-tired…so hot…what’s…what’s happening…I…”

With the blonde beauty nearly totally under the tendril’s control, she did not see as dozens more tentacles slowly reared up out of the misty morass all around her. Dripping cloudy white slime, their bulbous heads trained on her near-naked form, and all at once the tentacles began slithering towards her. All the while, the first tendril held her transfixed as its mad, mesmerizing undulations coaxed her heavy eyes to sink lower, lower.

‘Yesss…’ the soft voice hissed in her mind, ‘That’s it, my sweet. Close your eyes, ressst. Ssleep will bring pleasure. You can’t resist. You don’t want to resist. Sleep. Sssleeeep…”

Jungle Babe staggered, gasping, as the cunning, sensual whisper filled her mind. Drugged by the mist, entranced by the dance, she could not muster the will to oppose its insidious command. With a final, desperate groan, Jungle Babe’s eyes finally fluttered shut. The last of her strength bled out of her, and like a wilting flower her limp body fell backwards—right into the waiting nest of glistening, writhing tendrils.

With inhuman strength, the mass of tentacles cradled her in their crawling embrace, laying her back until she was prone atop a living, coiling bed. The tendrils roiled against her, caressing every inch of her back, her legs, tasting her soft, naked flesh with inhuman hunger. Her arms and legs were quickly wrapped in coils of the hellish vines, and pulled taut until her arms were held above her head, and her long legs were spread, wide and vulnerable. The busty blonde swooned in their grip, her eyes fluttering as the sensation of the tentacles against her sensitized skin sent jolts of vile pleasure dancing up her spine.

The thick, primary tentacle swiveled into place before her. It’s rounded end shuddered, then split open like the bloom of some demonic flower, revealing a yellow, lidless eye in the center of its glistening red petals. The voice in her head tittered in victorious glee.

“Such a delectable morsel,” it hissed, lustily drinking in the sight of her prone, helpless body. “Vibrant. Strong. You will make a perfect bride for the master. But first, you must be properly…prepared…”

A slender tentacle rose up from the mass coiling beneath Jungle Babe, landing on her abdomen with a wet smack. It slithered up her body, leaving a thick trail of slime in its wake. It licked up the smooth skin of her taut abdomen until it reached the animal skin bra restraining her heavy, aching breasts. It hooked itself around the slim bridge of fabric between her tits, while behind her back, a pair of tendrils worked with devilish dexterity to untie the knots holding it together. In seconds it was undone, and her top was lifted away to allow the great mounds of her breasts to spill into open view.

Perhaps reacting to the sensation of being stripped, Jungle Babe’s head tossed in subconscious denial. Her brow furrowed, even as she struggled to open her heavy, tired eyes. “N-no…stop…l-let…let me go…”

“I didn’t think my little dance would keep you down for long,” the voice chuckled, “But don’t worry. I have other ways to keep you docile…”

Two more tentacles slithered into action. Jungle Babe gasped in reluctant pleasure as each one wrapped itself around her quivering breasts, trapping the soft flesh in tight, slimy coils. The tentacles undulated against her, flexing in a sinuous pulse that massaged and caressed her tits from base to tip. The sensation was like having her entire breast sucked into a hot, wet mouth, simultaneously vile, alien…but unbelievably erotic. Jungle Babe shuddered, pulling uselessly against the tendrils restraining her arms and legs, but all too soon her struggles began to fade, and the knowing manipulation of her sensitive tits dragged a long, heady moan from the helpless heroine. Her breasts hummed in pleasure beneath the writhing touch, her nipples swollen to almost painful fullness. The ends of the tendrils assaulting her breasts split open, extending dozens of tiny, grasping cilia to pull her rigid nipples into wet, lamprey-like mouths. She gave a strangled groan, her back arching, as dozens of tiny filaments pulled and brushed against her turgid flesh, igniting her tits in hot, liquid ecstasy.

“AAh! D-don’t…no…oh…oh god…” Jungle Babe was panting. It was wrong, she shouldn’t be enjoying this, but it felt…it felt so good…

Between her legs, the lascivious attention was having devastating effect. The pleasure from her breasts stoked the fires of her arousal, and the hot, sticky juices of her rapidly heating pussy began to soak out around the narrow strip of fabric running between her swollen nether lips. Her hips twitched uncontrollably. The unblinking eye-stalk watched her torment with unbridled glee.

“Yesss,” came the malevolent hiss in her mind, “Such wonderful breasts. So soft. So sensitive. But you have other treasures, my dear…other needs to fulfill…”

Again, clever tendrils went to work on the leather ties of her loincloth, and soon it too was pulled away, leaving Jungle Babe clothed in nothing more than the slim, soaked thong covering her weeping sex. A thick, smooth tendril began to lightly brush against her covered mons, stroking back and forth over the hard nub of her clit where it lay nestled between her dripping labia. The teasing motion soon had her little clit throbbing.

Jungle Babe moaned. She tossed her head in abject denial, but could not stop her hips from rising and rocking into the subtle pressure against her sex. It was so hard to think. She was getting so hot, so turned on. It was easier just to lie back, to let the tentacles have their wicked way. She couldn’t stop them, and as the demonic appendages continued to stroke and coax her trembling body, she was less and less sure she even wanted to…

The tendril between her legs was stroking the full length of her pussy now, licking against her like a thick, monstrous tongue. Cloudy white ooze soaked through the slim fabric of her thong, drenching her pussy, making her ache with need. She whimpered. She was so wet. God, it was making her…it felt so good…

“That’s it, my sweet,” the voice chortled as Jungle Babe let out a low, helpless moan. “Your pussy opens to my touch. So hot. So wet. So…empty…”

She felt two tendrils loop under the thin waistband of her thong at her hips. They pulled up, grinding the central strap hard against her throbbing clit. She gasped.

“This little thing…” the voice sing-songed, sawing the soaked fabric between her lips, “It is in my way. It keeps me away from your sweet sex. Shall I remove it?”

Jungle Babe was panting. Her clit was absolutely throbbing. The whispering voice was right. She was so wet. She was so hot. Her pussy was empty…aching…

“…y-yes…” she breathed, lost in a dreamy, erotic haze, “Yes…oh yes…”

“Then raise your hips for me, darling. Raise them up…”

The tentacles around her legs uncoiled, setting them free, but no thought of resistance, of escape, entered Jungle Babe’s mind. Instead, the buxom blonde gave a needy sigh, and obediently raised her luscious ass up off the coiling tentacles beneath her. Soft, derisive chuckling filled her mind.

“Such an obedient little slut. The master will be pleased. And this…”

The twin tendrils pulled her panties down her thighs, strands of hot, sticky wetness trailing behind as it pulled away from her sex, leaving her completely naked…vulnerable…

“…you won’t be needing this anymore. Now…you belong to me…”

The thick tentacle returned to her dripping sex, and Jungle Babe let out a hoarse gasp as it began fondling her again, more insistently than before. The feeling of its slick, smooth length sliding against her exposed clitoris was almost too much to take. Sparks of pleasure made her sigh, and when she felt the bulbous head press against the opening of her cunt, she let out a long, desperate moan.

Thick appendages slid into her grasping hands, and her fingers closed tightly around them reflexively. They pumped wetly in her grip, while the coils restraining her arms loosened and slid away. Her hands began sliding up and down their pulsing lengths, while hot, vivid fantasies began to fill her drugged mind. The tendrils massaging her tits pressed them tightly together, creating a wet, soft tunnel for another pseudo-cock to glide into. It fucked her tits slowly, its wide, knobby end glistened enticingly just inches away from her red, panting lips. She felt tentacles coil around her knee, felt them pulled up and back, spreading her wide.

The thick tendril brushed against her again, found the trembling opening of her sex, and plunged in.

Jungle Babe cried out, arching her back, as the fat head bullied past her swollen labia, opening her up. Her grasping pussy resisted its entry for barely a moment before helplessly yielding, and the marauding tentacle sank into her hot, wet depths.

“OOHH…oh…YEESSS!” she moaned, falling completely under the evil, writhing tentacle’s spell, “S-so deep…so…gooood….OOOOHHH!”

The tentacle fucked her mercilessly, sliding in and out of her gushing cunt in long, toe-curling strokes. It filled her, owned her, made her quiver around its throbbing girth as it drowned her mind in waves of irresistible, penetrated pleasure.

“That’s it slut,” the voice hissed in her mind, “Think only of your need. Think only of your desire. My cocks fill your body with pleasure…and I will fuck you, again and again, until you are completely addicted. Until your every waking thought is consumed by the need for sex. Now come for me, slut. COME.”

The tentacle in her pussy began fucking faster and faster. Jungle Babe cried out, her hips thrusting up into the dominating thrusts with uncontrollable, hungry eagerness.

“YEEESSS! Make me cum…I need to cum….oooooh….GOOODDD!!”

She was too turned on to resist; too hot to fight back. The tentacle drove in once more, and at once, the blonde

heroine exploded obediently in mind-numbing orgasm. She seized atop the roiling bed of tendrils, her body shuddering in conquering bliss. Every inch of her sang with sex. The cocks in her hands, the one between her breasts, and the cruel, wicked organ filling her pussy, burned in her mind her true, slutty purpose. She was made for pleasure. She was made for sex. Nothing else mattered.

She felt the head of the tentacle press insistently against her lips, and she moaned, willingly opening her mouth to let it slip inside. It entered her, gushing more thick, white slime, and at once her mouth was filled with the

salty, masculine taste of semen. She moaned, sucking hungrily, wantonly swallowing the demonic seed spilling onto her tongue. The first orgasm was barely past when she felt the awful movement of the tentacle in her pussy again, fucking her, driving her back to the edge of ecstasy. She could feel it quivering inside her, and realized that this time it would come too.

“Let us come together, my sweet,” the voice rasped, “And as you do, I shall fill you with my master’s seed…and make you his slave…”

She groaned around the tentacle in her mouth, sucking harder. She could feel the orgasm rushing towards her. Just a little more. She wanted it. She needed it. The cock in her pussy drove in faster and faster, her trecherous hips rising to meet its every thrust…oh god, she was going to come, she was—!


The sudden, agonized screech pierced her mind, and the tentacles holding her suddenly spasmed in pain. They released her, dropping her to the forest floor, and roiled in the air in wild fury.

The impact shocked her, breaking the tentacle’s erotic grip on her mind. Jungle Babe winced, blinking heavily, struggling to focus her eyes on what was happening.

She saw a mass of shapes, more shadows than anything distinct, milling into the clearing. She couldn’t make out their faces. She heard them shouting to one another, heard a sudden burning roar, and once again the voice in her mind let out a shriek.


The scream was accompanied by another burning howl, and a rush of heat over her head. She struggled to push herself up, but her arms had no strength.

“H-help…I need…help,” she choked, as horrific blackness pulled at the edges of her vision. She was going to pass out.

Suddenly, she felt something drape over her naked form, and felt herself being lifted up between two large, dark shapes.

“Get the girl!” she heard someone shout, “Get her and run! Burn it again, John, it’s still alive!”

The roar of a flamethrower cut through the night, turning the hazy forest a brilliant orange-red. She felt herself tossed over someone’s shoulder, felt them running. She forced open her eyes, saw the horrific maelstrom of men as they fought to burn away the unspeakable horror in their midst, before merciful, soothing darkness finally welcomed her in its embrace.

Sandra charged through the temple, her heart racing. The scream—she’d never heard such agony before. She knew where it had come from, and her body leapt through the tunnels with practiced familiarity. If there was an intruder, if someone had dared to enter their sanctuary…she would flay the flesh from their bones.

She found the open portal to her destination, and dove in. She landed in a crouch, claws extended, fangs barred…but there was no interloper.

Atop the chamber’s central, raised dais, something shuddered to life.

Sandra swallowed, and took a careful step back. “Sister…Carmen…are you alright?”

The chamber was filled with a dry, threatening rattle as the creature that had been Carmen pulled herself up. More than Angie’s, more than her own, Carmen’s had been the most horrific transformation. The woman’s pale, naked body was human only from the waist up. Glossy, smooth scales adorned her arms and back, covering her in a pattern that was both beautiful and terrible to see. Her lower body was a long, serpentine tail, coiled many times around to disguise its length. The rattle at its end shuddered to convey her pain.

She shook her head fiercely, trying to banish the lingering pangs of agony. Atop her head, a nest of dark, writhing snakes hissed angrily where there should have been hair. When at last her glittering yellow eyes opened, she fixed them on her leonin sibling, her noble features twisted in a hiss.

“Tell the massster,” she rasped, “The humansss mean to ssstrike…”

Jungle Babe — In the Clutches of Cernunnos

Chapter 3: Monsters in Our Midst

The first thing she became aware of was the steady, mechanical ticking of the aged grandfather clock standing in the corner.

Dana McQueen shifted beneath the fresh, crisp sheets. After a moment of sleep-addled grogginess, the utter unfamiliarity of her surroundings suddenly sank in, and she bolted upright, fear and confusion tearing cutting through her.

The room she was in was dominated by furniture of heavy, carved wood. There was a tall dresser against the wall opposite the bed she lay in, and a small desk table near the window. The curtains were drawn, and the wan light creeping in around the edges gave little indication of the time, save that it had to be day. An oil lamp burned atop her bedside table, lending the room a warm, orange glow.

Suddenly, memories from the night before came flooding back. The clearing. The vines. Dana shuddered, and clutched the sheets a little tighter against her chest. If she let herself, she could still feel the wet, warm writhing of those hellish tentacles against her skin. More disturbing than the memory of her monstrous violation though was the sudden, heated flush that chased through her body that came with it. She pulled the sheet away, and found herself naked beneath. Her aching nipples were hard and engorged, and between her legs, her pussy was humming expectantly.

Gingerly she let her fingers stray to her heated folds, and gasped at the sensitive thrill that greeted her.

She was still suffering the effects of the corrupting mist, and the lingering afterglow of the wicked plant’s…affections.

With more difficulty than she wanted to admit, Jungle Babe pulled her deftly questing fingers away from her highly sensitive sex, and forced herself to confront the situation at hand.

She had been…rescued? By whom? Where was she now?

As she struggled with all of her unanswered questions, a dull, creaking footfall reached her ears from somewhere beyond the heavy oak door to her room. She froze, heart hammering. She made to rise, but her legs still felt like they were made of jelly. The footsteps were coming closer. She forced herself to stand, pulling the sheet around her body in a rough dress, and staggered to keep her balance.

The latch of the door began to turn, and Jungle Babe braced herself for whatever would come through. She didn’t know how much of a fight she’d be able to put up, but she’d be damned if they were going to find her curled up on the mattress like some defenseless kitten.

The door opened, and a young woman walked in.

When she saw Dana standing, she let out a surprised yelp, and jumped back three feet. She was carrying a small basket with her, and nearly spilled its contents on the wooden floor. Dana surmised that she couldn’t be much older than eighteen. Her wide, shocked eyes were set in a pretty face, auburn hair pulled back in a sensible ponytail. A loose wool sweater, dark leggings, and simple flats completed her attire. She stared at Dana with wide, bright eyes.

“Oh! Y-you’re awake! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to barge in, I just didn’t expect you’d be up,” she stammered sheepishly, hesitating in the doorway. Seeing the girl obviously was no threat, Dana sighed, her weary limbs aching gratefully as she sat back on the bed.

“It’s ok,” she answered, before repeating herself when she could see the girl’s persisting uncertainty. She eyed the young woman’s trepidation with mild amusement. “Look, just relax; you’re obviously more scared of me than I am of you. How about some introductions? I’m—”

“Jungle Babe,” the girl finished for her, before blushing slightly at the unexpected outburst. “I—I mean, I know who you are. I, um…I recognized your…costume…”

She indicated the small basket she was carrying. Dana raised her eyebrows in surprise. Seeing her confusion, the young woman continued.

“The men found them in the clearing, after they killed the, uh…thing…” she swallowed audibly, “I washed them for you.”

She summoned the courage to enter the room, and placed the basket on top of the desk. She turned to face Dana, distractedly worrying with the hem of her sweater, before awkwardly thrusting her hand out. “I’m Anna. You’re in my Grandpa’s house. He’s one of the town elders; the men brought you here after they rescued you from the forest.”

Town elders? The oddly anachronistic phrase sparked a jolt of recollection in Dana’s mind. Hadn’t Tessa mentioned something in her notes about scattered villages near the forest’s edge? Descendants of the original settlers from many centuries prior, they had managed to maintain a remarkable level of privacy and seclusion despite the massive growth of Delta City just nearby. They weren’t religious puritans or adherents exactly, but they were notably opaque, and their particular idiosyncrasies were sometimes fodder for bored journalists looking to comment on Delta City’s unusual surroundings. They kept to themselves, rarely caused trouble, and were remote enough to dissuade visits from casual tourists.

Jungle Babe reached out, and gently shook Anna’s hand. “Um, thanks…how long have I been here?”

“Just since last night,” Anna answered. As her trepidation faded, the girl’s energy had turned brighter, almost excited. “That’s kind of why I was surprised to see you up so soon, but, I mean, you’re a super hero after all…I guess I should have expected it…”

The girl blushed a bright red, glancing at the floor, “We’re not really supposed to get involved with stuff that happens in the city, but I have a small radio, and I’m always listening to the news. I love hearing about all the great things you do, you and the others, like Miss Americana…so when they brought you back, I knew who you were right away. I just…oh god, I just never thought I’d ever get to meet someone like you in person…”

She fidgeted nervously, and Dana felt a growing affection for the girl’s guileless enthusiasm. She was reminded of the fact that for many people, she and others like her represented a symbol of good, and as corny as that sounded, when times got really bad, sometimes a symbol made all the difference.

And the situation definitely qualified as ‘bad’.

Dana grimaced sheepishly. “Yeah. Some hero I am. If it weren’t for those men, who knows what kind of trouble I’d be in right now.”

Anna flashed a look, surprising Dana with the sudden determination there. “There’s something awful happening in the forest,” she said gravely, “You weren’t prepared the first time, but we’re going to help you. You’re going to beat this thing. You’re going to win!”

Despite herself, the girl’s enthusiasm was hopelessly contagious, and Dana felt her spirits perking up. She flashed Anna a smirk. “You don’t get discouraged easily do you? I know more than a few heroes who have half your conviction; you could teach them a thing or two.”

If it was possible, the girl turned an even deeper shade of red. Before she burned up from sheer embarrassment, Dana rose from the bed, suddenly aware of the angry rumbling in her belly. “I don’t suppose you have anything to eat in that basket of yours?” she asked hopefully.

Anna shook her head quickly, but said, “No, but I can fix you anything you want! Do you want some coffee? Tea? we have lots to eat, we—”


Anna blinked, as if not understanding. “Um…sorry?”

“Beer. The darker the better. And as much food as you can find, I’m starving,” Dana said, stepping to the desk and reaching into the basket to retrieve her costume. When she noticed Anna shuffling about in confusion, she explained, “Look kiddo, no one ever beat a forest of perverted plants on an empty stomach, so if you want me to kick its ass, find me something to drink.”

Still not fully understanding, but eager to please, Anna raced out of the room, her footsteps dancing down the hallway. Dana watched her go, but despite her bravado, she felt a sliver of doubt splinter in her midsection. Could she really beat this thing? She got lucky once, but if she failed again…

Suddenly, an image shifted in her imagination. She pictured herself once more in the lurid grasp of those clutching tentacles, imagined their wet, hungry touch as they roamed over her naked, helpless body. She saw herself struggling, even as her legs were pulled apart, and a thick, dripping appendage forced its way into her tight, heated pussy. But then before her staring eyes, the scene began to change, and it was no longer her moaning in the grip of those coiling, wicked tendrils…but Anna.

Horrified, Dana shook her head mightily to dispel the awful image. Her heart was pounding, and her hands trembled as they clutched at her animal-skin costume. No. She absolutely couldn’t let that happen. There was too much at risk. She couldn’t lose. She wouldn’t lose.

She forced herself to get dressed. She had to speak to the town elders, figure out what was really going on. She tried her best to ignore the lingering, lurid images ghosting through her mind…and the hot, needy ache that throbbed in her treacherously aroused pussy.

She was only somewhat successful.

* * *

“Jacob! Jacob, where do you keep the beer?” Anna shouted, bounding into the house with startling energy. The older man looked up from his kitchen table, nursing a cup of steaming coffee. He shot her a grizzled look.

“Beer? Christ on the cross Anna, its eight thirty! What do you need beer for?”

If his annoyed look bothered her at all, she gave no notice, skipping from the pantry to the refrigerator and rummaging through. “She’s awake, the woman you all saved from the forest last night,” she said by way of explanation.

“And she wants beer?” he asked, baffled.

Anna found the remains of a six pack buried in the back of the cold compartment, and fished it out with a victorious smile. “Yep! And food, so I threw a slab of bacon on the…hey, Jacob, are you alright?” Anna stopped in her tracks, her brow furrowing as she regarded the man hunched over the table. “You don’t look so good.”

He blinked red-rimmed eyes, and coughed hoarsely into a folded handkerchief. “Yeah, I’m fine. I’m not as young as I used to be, darlin’, the chill of the woods at night is bad for me bones.”

He tried flashing a reassuring smile, but it came across as more of a wince. She eyed him with growing concern. “Are you sure? I could tell Grandpa, have someone come over to take a look at you?”

“I’m fine,” he repeated, frowning. He turned back to his coffee, staring at his jittering reflection in the shiny black fluid.

But Anna lingered. Something about the look on the poor man’s face troubled her. His color seemed way off. He could be a real badger sometimes, but Anna genuinely liked Jacob. He always had a funny story for her, or a scandalous bit of news from the city. She chewed her lip in concern. “Michael told me what you guys saw last night,” she said, lowering her voice, “If anything strange happened out there, we really should tell Grandpa, and—”

“I SAID I’M FINE,” he snapped, glowering at her. Anna started, mouth moving uselessly as she tried to think of something to say, before she finally just gave up and dashed out of the house. Jacob stared vacantly after her, blinking watery eyes. What the hell did she know? Stupid little cunt; a perfect example of what was wrong with women these days. Always talking too much, doing too much, knowing too much. In his day things had been simpler. Women used to know their place.

The door had been left to swing widely in her departure, and Jacob had a perfect view of her as she jogged back to her house. He found his gaze kept getting drawn to the way her tight young ass flexed beneath her leggings as she moved, and felt a stirring in his loins he hadn’t felt in a very long time.

“Stupid cunt,” he grumbled, turning back to stare at the curls of steam rising off his coffee, “Someone should teach her a lesson…fuck some sense into her…”

He continued to mutter darkly to himself; the coffee sat on the table in front of him, totally untouched, and growing colder by the second.

* * *

An obscene amount of food and several steins of cold beer later, and Jungle Babe finally felt a little more like herself. She was waiting for Anna to return so they could meet with the council of elders. Anna had left her with a table full of food while she gathered everyone together. Dana had left the empty plates stacked neatly on the carrying tray, and moved to stand beside the window, watching the small village below. The houses were uniformly old and robustly constructed, brick and mortar, the single main road paved in brick. It was like stepping back in time, she thought to herself. Here and there, she could see people moving about in the early morning hours, but theirs was not the casual pace of a people going about their business; the motions were harried, rushed. People moved from point to point as expediently as the route would allow, and conversations were hasty and terse. There was a tangible sense of dread in the air, and more than once she saw someone walk by with a heavy tank strapped to their back, and the long barrel of a flamethrower slung beneath their arm.

Her head felt clearer than it had in hours, though that also meant that her memories from the night before were getting more…vivid…too. Just the thought made her flush in a mix of anger, shame…and something else. She hated how easily she’d been beaten, and was more than a little disturbed by how vulnerable she had been to the mist’s corrupting influence. Caught in its swirling grip, she had been reduced to a dazed, horny, obedient sexpot; she had been easy prey for the tentacle vines, but in truth, she had been lucky. Had she encountered the monster itself, rather than just one of its weird abominations…

Yet despite all that, she hadn’t been able to shake the latent, lingering arousal that had greeted her upon waking. It wasn’t nearly as consuming as it had been in the forest, but her body still felt sexually charged, energized; her sex drive was positively simmering. Getting dressed had been an exercise in self-control, one she very nearly failed. Slipping on her thong and loincloth had called back the memory of having them removed in the first place, and though she was loathe to admit, the thought sent a wicked thrill down her spine. Way too often since waking, she had found herself thinking about the way that long, thick tentacle had felt as it forced itself into her far too eager pussy…so deep…so hard…so…

A sudden soft knock at the door made her jump, and she realized to her horror that one of her hands was quietly massaging one large, soft tit, while the fingers of her other hand were playing a seductive, teasing rhythm over her panty-covered mound. She muttered a curse, hastily composing herself. “C-come in,” she called, furtively easing back a stray lock of platinum hair.

“The elders are ready for you, if you would follow—” Anna started saying as she came in, but stopped short when she saw Jungle Babe standing there in full costume…what little there was of it, at any rate. Her mouth gaped, and the poor girl was again blushing furiously.

Dana sighed sympathetically. Her costume was best suited for navigating the dense foliage of the deep jungle; sparse to help fight the heat and humidity, to allow for maximum mobility, and to let her capitalize on her inherently pronounced body senses in combat. When one primarily dealt with native tribes who wore even less, her outfit was almost conservative by comparison. It was, however, painfully unsuited for a town hall filled with wizened, sheltered old men.

“Oh great,” she grumbled, seeing the shocked look on Anna’s face, “If YOU think it’s too much, those old guys are liable to have a heart attack.”

“Uh, well, y-yes, it’s a little…risqué…” Anna stammered, trying to be diplomatic. She swallowed, trying to keep her eyes politely away from Jungle Babe’s breathtakingly-displayed cleavage, and failing miserably. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, you’re absolutely gorgeous, you can wear whatever you want, but—”

Jungle Babe waved a hand impatiently at her, and pushed past Anna into the hallway. “They’re going to have to get over it. I don’t have the time to worry about the fashion judgments of some waxy old men. Where to?”

Anna caught up with her, and led her out of her Grandfather’s house and through the village. Not a few times, rushing villagers completely stopped in their tasks to stare incredulously at the barely-dressed, statuesque Amazon walking their streets. The women gaped and tittered, while the men just gaped. Dana had to roll her eyes.

Soon they reached the tall, ancient edifice of what Anna called their Town Hall. It might have been a church of some kind, but Dana couldn’t see any familiar symbols or markings that would hint at a particular religion. Instead, the building was decorated with elaborate symbols and eldritch markings that resembled hieroglyphs more than Puritan symbology. Whoever the ancient settlers were, it was clear they had practiced an entirely different kind of worship than those of their contemporaries.

Before she opened the door, Anna paused to whisper, “Be patient with Grandpa. He can get kind of dramatic sometimes.”

She gave the heavy iron handle a hard pull, and ushered a quizzical Jungle Babe inside.

The interior of the Hall opened into a circular chamber ringed with three stepped levels, each bearing a concentric wooden table and a series of mostly empty chairs. The villagers would have sit along those rings, Jungle Babe surmised, while whoever had the run of the meeting stood in the middle commanding their attention. Against the wall opposite the door, a wide table sat beneath a massive, intricate sculpture of twisting, ancient wood. It reached up towards the vaulted ceiling where it split into endless branches interwoven with the white plaster. Jungle Babe had to remind herself not to stare, but the sight was truly something to behold. Who the hell were these people?

At the central table sat a single, white-bearded man. Arranged on the table in front of him were a curious assortment of artifacts; a massive, leather bound folio; some strange, dried black leaves; a stone mortar and pestle; and a small, steaming kettle. He wore wire-frame circular spectacles, and appeared as gnarled and aged as the wood sculpture above him, but his eyes were bright, and they creased in a welcoming smile when they saw Anna.

“Anna, come in, come in,” he called, standing. “We have much to talk about, and there’s precious little time.”

Anna took Jungle Babe by the elbow and led her to a waiting chair in front of the cluttered desk. She looked around searchingly as they approached. “Grandfather, you’re alone,” she stated, puzzled, “Where are the others?”

The old man sighed, shaking his head. “They are busy at the perimeter fence, bolstering the town’s defenses. I tried telling them that their preparations would do little good in the face of the evil confronting us now, but they refused to listen.” He cast a hopeful, appraising look at Jungle Babe. “And this is the hero you told me about?”

Anna nodded, “Yes, this is—”

“The press has taken to calling me Jungle Babe,” the blonde Amazon cut in, a little sheepishly, “But Dana will do just fine.”

He nodded sagely. If he gave a care about how she looked or the brazenness of her costume, he gave not the slightest indication. Beside her, Anna stared in wide, silent awe, quietly thrilled at being privy to the stunning blonde’s name. “Your name matters little; you are the Hero, come to slay the Beast ravaging in the woods.”

Dana blinked. Anna shifted beside her. “Like I said…a little dramatic…” she whispered out of the corner of her mouth.

But the old man continued, “I am Samuelson, Keeper of Records for our order. Our family,” he gestured at Anna, “has been keeping watch over this forest for nearly ten generations. We are its protectors, wardens against a terrible evil. Unfortunately…our number has dwindled, as of late…” He gave a sad pause, and Dana could see that the man was struggling deeply with something. His callused hands were fidgeting on the table, and always seemed to draw back to the heavy leather folio sitting in front of him, as if in reassurance that it was still there.

When he found his voice, it was once more laden with old conviction. “You must know of the Beast. It’s why you came, is it not?”

Dana met his spectacled gaze. “A good friend of mine disappeared investigating this thing you call ‘the Beast’. I came here to try and rescue her.”

If she’s still alive, she thought morosely.

Her answer seemed to satisfy the old man, who nodded, “Selfless, courageous, it is as it should be. You truly are the Hero, then. Thank heavens. These times grow desperate, and I fear courage is our only protection against the trial before us.”

He reached out, and unclasped the small brass lock holding the folio together. Gingerly, he eased the leather cover apart, turning the heavy book open to a heavily creased, marked page. The frail parchment was covered in curling script in a language Jungle Babe did not recognize, but the huge, dark illustration in the center of the page said enough. She drew in a shocked breath.

On the page in front of her, wreathed in inky black vines and thorny leaves, was a horrific visage. Something more animal than man, with massive curling horns, thick mantle of jet black fur, and eyes that burned with intensity far beyond a simple illustration of paints and ink, stared up at her. Its fanged mouth was opened, and from it poured a swirling, green miasma. She stared in horrific fascination.

“Many years ago,” Samuelson began, slowly, recalling a tale he knew by heart, “When the realm of men was still young, a horrible creature walked these woods. A demon, or a god, it held court in the dark, secret places and presided over a fiefdom that stretched across the land. A vain and lustful tyrant, it rampaged through the tribes of men and sought to subjugate all beneath its will. For a terrible time, it did so unopposed, and the tribes of men quaked in terror. Some sought to placate it with worship, and willingly entered into servitude.”

He swallowed hard. “The tribes of men called it many things; Horned God; The Beast with a Thousand Young; Tyrant of Mist. Our order called him by his hidden, true name: Cernunnos.”

At the utterance of those ancient syllables, a pregnant hush seemed to fill the room. Jungle Babe felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise up, and her heart skipped a beat. Most worrisome of all, a tremor of strange, forbidden yearning suddenly ran down her spine, and left her pussy quietly tingling. Dana had to focus to force down the strange, too-pleasant wave of heat blushing across her cheeks. She hoped neither Anna nor Samuelson noticed the way she had reflexively pressed her thighs together. God, what the hell was wrong with her?

The old man continued, “It took many years of struggle, and tremendous sacrifice, but at last our order found a way to seal the monster in his temple lair, and to stop the corruption infecting the land. Periodically, the creature must sleep, and replenish whatever fel energies grant it its power. We discovered a means of disrupting his revival, and sealed the temple to ensure it would remain undisturbed. For generations we knew peace, and grew content with the knowledge that the world was safe from Cernunnos’ predations. We got fat; complacent…we were woefully unprepared when disaster struck.”

It was Anna who spoke up then, taking over for her Grandfather. “A company from the city won the rights to begin mining in the hills. We tried to fight them in court, but they had money, lawyers…” she shrugged, “It wasn’t much of a fight at all. But we kind of hoped, you know? We all thought, maybe after all these years, nothing would come of it. Maybe it was all just a story.”

She folded suddenly trembling hands in her lap. “We…we were wrong.”

He clenched his gnarled fingers into tight fists. “When the mists first came, we were slow to recognize them for what they were. We began hearing strange noises from the woods, and several of our people described seeing…something…stalking through the dark. It wasn’t until one of our hunters came back, describing the strangely misshapen trees, that the truth began to sink in. But by then, it was too late. We’ve done what we can; every night, we send a small group of men into the woods to try and burn away the infection, but it’s spreading faster than we can hope to contain it now.”

Samuelson exhaled a shuddering breath. “Ten generations we’ve been waiting…we were supposed to be vigilant, to protect this land. We’ve failed.” He choked.

Dana looked from Samuelson to his granddaughter, and plainly saw the heavy malaise hanging over them. She frowned. “Look, there’s no time for self-pity,” she said, hoping she didn’t come across too harshly. “This thing is a danger to you, to the city, and it has to be stopped.”

She leveled a steely look at Samuelson. “Tell me how to kill it.”

Perhaps it was the intensity in her eyes, or the conviction in her voice, but the old man seemed to snap out of his momentary fugue. His hands fell back to the folio, and began searching the pages.

“Before you re-enter the forest, you must understand what you face,” he said, finding a section of the book and swinging it open. He gestured at the illustration, depicting a map of the forest with the red hills in the center. A pale, green smear over the scratched-in trees blotted the page. He tapped his finger on the picture. “The Beast waits here, at the site of its ancient temple. From there, he exerts his will upon the surrounding countryside, manifesting as a thick, swirling vapor that infects all it touches.”

Samuelson turned the page, revealing a new illustration. The same ashen, twisted trees and thick, ropy vines met her gaze. In the curling tendrils, the artist had painted horrific images of small, pale forms hung suspended from the trees. Beneath it all, a monstrous, horned thing stalked through the nightmare vision, clawed hands reaching up to snatch the pale humans caught in the vines. Jungle Babe felt her blood run cold.

“It claims it is a god,” Samuelson explained slowly, “And in many cases, it seems the claim has merit. It has the power to shape and twist nature to reflect its twisted desires. The forest becomes a trap, a living web to snare prey; a larder to slake the Beast’s endless hunger for human flesh.”

He turned the page, and this time, Jungle Babe let out a gasp. The next painting was lurid, almost pornographic. It showed the Beast at the center of a massive orgy, caught in a tangle of female bodies cavorting in wonton, sexual excess. She felt herself flush, and glanced at Anna, thinking the illustration would have disturbed the poor girl. Instead, the young woman was staring at the page with wide, rapt eyes, her pink lips parted, and a bright blush on her cheeks. Something about the strange, lost look in her eyes made Dana uncomfortable, and she nudged the girl in the arm with her elbow. Anna gave a start, blinking rapidly, before looking at Dana in confusion. “W-what? Did you say something?”

“You ok?” Dana asked, looking at her intently.

Anna shifted, fidgeting in her seat. “Um, yeah, I’m fine, it’s just…it’s all so hard to…believe…”

Samuelson barely noticed the exchange, and was gesturing at the picture. “The monster is insatiable, and seeks always to make man its slave.”

Dana gave a derisive snort. Man? She didn’t see any ‘men’ in those pictures.

“If Cernunnos is not stopped, his power will continue to wax, and soon he will be too powerful to overcome. It might be too late already…”

When Dana saw that the old man risked slipping back into quiet despair, she interjected sternly. “It’s not. We have to stop him. You have to tell me how.”

He nodded dismally, and reached for the small black leaves and the stone mortar. “There is a way. But it is terribly dangerous, and…and I am loathe to foist this responsibility, my family’s responsibility, on a complete stranger.” He looked at Dana with watery eyes. “Can you forgive a frail old man for this? For asking you to fight his battles for him?”

Dana reached out, clasping her fingers over his withered hands gently. “There’s nothing to be forgiven,” she said, “I have a score to settle with this…Cernunnos. When I kick his ass, I’ll give him a few extra beatings for you and your Order; how does that sound?”

He stared at her searchingly, then seemed to come to some kind of resolution. He smiled forlornly, nodding, then hastily dropped the black leaves in the stone receptacle and began grinding them with the pestle. “The first thing we need to do is grant you some protection from the mist. You’ll have to drink this,” he said, taking the crushed leaves and mixing them into a pot of water. “It won’t counteract the mist entirely, but it will protect you from its more debilitating effects. It should give you enough time to reach the temple, and confront Cernunnos.”

He poured the amber fluid into a cup, and pushed it towards Jungle Babe. She took the cup, and tossed back the bitter liquid, wincing as she swallowed. That stuff was terrible, but at this point she was willing to take any tool at her disposal. He flipped to a new page, showing a sketch of a circle, inscribed with a swirling, complex pattern.

He unceremoniously ripped the page out of the binding, and passed it over to her. “This is the seal. It must be inscribed on the monster’s body. If successful, the symbol will force him back into hibernation, and his hold over the forest will be broken.”

Dana stared at him incredulously. “Wait. You expect me to write this ON him? Just how am I supposed to do that?”

Samuelson shifted uncomfortably, “Ah, um…well…I suppose that’s for you, the uh, Hero, to decide…”

She sighed, dead-panning, “Yeah. No problem.”

Suddenly, Anna spoke up, “I’m going with you.”

Samuelson gaped, “Anna! No, absolutely not!”

“He’s right,” Jungle Babe said, turning to face her, “There’s no way you’re coming. You have no idea what this thing is capable of.”

“I might not be as strong as you,” Anna conceded, “But I grew up in these woods; I know the fastest way to the hills, and the best way to cut through the forest. You have to let me guide you.”

“Then draw me a map,” Jungle Babe said forcefully, “I’m not going to put you at risk here.”

“But you heard Grandpa, the forest has been twisted, there’s no way a map will help you,” Anna protested, rising.

“I can read the land, show you the way. I’ll stay out of the fighting, I promise!”

“Anna, please, if anything were to—if anything happened to you, I would die,” Samuelson pleaded, reaching for her. She avoided his hands, instead grabbing for the kettle of crushed herbs and pouring herself a cup. Before either of them could stop her, she took the cup and tossed back the dark fluid. She choked it down, gasping in revulsion. “Ugh, that’s AWFUL.”

“This is insane,” Dana grumbled, “You’re not going anywhere. I’ll find my way just fine.”

“Oh, like you did when you got caught by those vines?” Anna shot back, eyes flashing. When she saw the surprised look on Jungle Babe’s face, she suddenly realized what she’d said, and crumpled into a hot, blushing ball in her chair, “Oh god, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“Hey. Hey, calm down, its fine,” Dana said, trying to keep the young woman from falling into an embarrassed fit.

She shook her head in honest admiration. “Lord, you have guts,” she muttered, “Not much for brains, but you’ve got guts. I still can’t let you come though. It’s just way too dange—”

Suddenly, the door to the town hall rattled loudly as something heavy smashed into it. All three of them jumped to their feet. Jungle Babe spun to face the door as a second strike sent it rattling on its hinges. The old wood creaked in protest, but held true. She shoved Anna, “Take your grandfather. Find some place to hide. Something is happening out there, and it doesn’t sound good.”

“But, I can help, I—” the auburn-haired girl stammered.

“GO,” Dana snapped, shoving again. Samuelson grabbed Anna’s arm, and began pulling the protesting nineteen year-old through a door at back of the room. Jungle Babe grabbed the torn sheet of paper, and folded it into a small square before tucking it into a hidden pocket on the inside of her leather bracer. She had barely finished when the door gave another mighty rattle, spraying splinters across the polished floor.

From out of a crack in the heavy wood, a slivery wisp of emerald fog curled curiously into the dimly lit common-space. Jungle Babe froze, her heart leaping into her chest. The mist…the mist was outside?! She snapped her head around, looking for a window. Outside the glass, thick, hazy gauze masked her view of the adjoining street, and her worst fears were confirmed. The mist had chased its way through the forest, and flowed right over the town.

“It’s spread so far, so fast,” she muttered, pulse hammering. “But how could that be?” It was almost like it was being directed, she thought dismally, as if it knew—

Her eye widened.

—As if it knew where she was.

She looked at her bracer, at the hidden pocket where the folded up sigil lay. There was no other explanation. The Beast—Cernunnos—had anticipated their attack…and had moved to quash it before it could even begin.

Another crack at the door, and the heavy wood splintered some more, nearly splitting apart. Mist was streaming into the hallway now, while outside, Jungle Babe could see dark shapes pressing against the door. She saw them rear back, then lunge forward, and this time the door flew apart in a spectacular spray of shattered wood. For a moment all was still, and then she saw the first dark shape shamble slowly into the town hall. At first, Jungle Babe wasn’t sure her eyes could be believed; the shape seemed merely a man. But then the vapors shifted, and she caught her first horrified look at the devils the mist had spawned.

Whatever the creature was, it used to be a man. Its shirt was in tatters, long, ragged trails gouged in the fabric, revealing mottled skin the color of a sickly full moon. Its pale fingers terminated in sharpened fingernails that twitched spastically at the thing’s sides. Its face was gaunt, the skin pulled taut over the features of the skull. Its eyes were sunken, and its lips were pulled back to reveal pronounced, skeletal teeth. All the man’s hair had fallen away, leaving only that misshapen, skull-like head with the silent rictus-grin.

Immediately behind the first thing, two more stumbled into the hallway. Their cloudy eyes were wide and unseeing, but one by one they seemed to register her presence. Their gaunt faces turned towards her, their mouths open in low, hungry moans, and began shuffling forward. The first one lunged at her, clawed hands outstretched, but it was clumsy, and she easily sidestepped out of the way.

The second tried to grab for her as she spun past the first, but it was met with a wide roundhouse kick to the head. Jungle Babe’s strike sent the creature spinning into the raised desks of the second observation tier, where is collapsed in a billowing heap. She followed through the natural motion of the kick, spinning once, twice, before using the momentum to propel a straight heel kick right into the third creature’s sternum. She heard a dull crack as several ribs shattered with the force of the impact, and the creature uttered a wet, gurgling moan as it was hurled backwards to crumple to the ground.

The first creature turned ploddingly to face her, but she was ready for him. With practiced ferocity she delivered three rapid punches to its throat, solar plexus and belly; pale flesh quivered under her precise assault, and the creature stumbled backwards, falling to the ground, choking.

She smirked, cracking her knuckles. “Ugly, ugly and slow. Is that really the best you…you can…do…?”

She staggered as a sudden wave of vile, unbearably seductive warmth washed over her. She gasped, and looked at her feet. The mist lapped against her legs. Long, crawling fingers of vapor licked along her creamy thighs, and slipped beneath the pelt strip of her loincloth to brush enticingly against her panty-covered sex. The touch was insidious, and totally against her will, Jungle Babe felt her pussy obediently awakening to its ghostly caress.

The arousal she’d fought to control all day suddenly surged inside her, her nipples stiffening, and a hot, needy ache beginning to pulse between her legs. She moaned miserably, crumpling to her knees on the foggy ground. This was bad. It was just like in the woods. Oh god, she was getting so…so damn hot…!

Yet, past the riot of unfocused desire and undermining fear, something was different. The forced arousal was as intense and malignant as she remembered it could be, but her arms, her legs…the awful, leaden heaviness that had left her defenseless against the demonic vines seemed to be missing. Likewise, though her head hummed with her racing, excited pulse, the cloying pull of heady drowsiness did not manifest.

The old man’s herbs actually seemed to be working. Maybe there was a way to beat this thing after all.

A wet, gurgling groan from behind her jarred her out of her reverie. Jungle Babe turned, and saw the first creature pulling itself haltingly to its feet. She forced herself to rise, wincing as her heavy breasts shifted far too pleasantly within the confines of her bikini top, and dropped back into a defensive stance. Her strikes had left visible indentations in the creature’s weird flesh, but they didn’t seem to be affecting it at all. Its jaws swiveled open, and a long, monstrous tongue lolled out, trailing strands of viscous saliva.

Then, faster than she could blink, the tongue snapped forward, revealing its true, huge length concealed in the creature’s chest. She cried out in alarm, but as slow as the monster was, its strike was lightning fast and terribly precise. The long, prehensile appendage looped itself around her wrist, and coiled painfully tight. She winced, grabbing it with her free hand, and struggled to pull herself loose. The mutant limb held her fast, and the thick, oozing saliva made it impossible for her to get a good grip on it. The creature began stumbling toward her, clawed arms outstretched.

But even as she struggled with the first one, she heard another shambling noise behind her. Before she could even turn to look, a second tongue lashed out, this time snaking around her slim neck. Her shout of alarm was choked off as the writhing appendage began to constrict. She clawed it, desperately searching for purchase on the slick, spongy tissue, but it only tightened further.

Jungle Babe grimaced, her head throbbing, her lungs burning, as she struggled to breathe. The pressure on her neck was intense, unyielding. She couldn’t get loose. Already, small spots of color began to float across her vision, while dark, unfocused oblivion encroached along its periphery. The creatures shuffled closer, moaning, reaching for her with their claws. She staggered, choking, as those wretched tongues pulled taut.

“Can’t…can’t breathe…” she winced, panic hammering in her chest, “Have to…get free…no!”

She cried in dismay, staring down at her legs in horror as the third creature crawled towards her. It grabbed hold of her ankles with cruel, inhuman strength, issuing a toothy hiss and staring at her with white, cloudy eyes. She tried to kick loose, but it refused to let go. She was getting dizzy; her lungs cried for air. Everything was getting dark. She sobbed, staggering, as her grip on consciousness began to slip. Suddenly, she bumped back against something, and a clawed hand closed around her free wrist, twisting it painfully up over her head.

The second creature hissed in her ear, pulling her tightly against him. His skin felt blisteringly hot.

“No…no!” she gasped, struggling, but it was no use. She had no leverage, and precious little air. The monster behind her grabbed her other arm and pinned her wrists together over her head. She twisted uselessly in their grip, her arms and legs held fast. The tongue around her neck loosened slightly, letting her suck in a welcome gasp into her burning lungs. It pulsated threateningly, a grisly reminder that at any moment it could tighten again, and totally cut off her airflow.

She was trapped.

Her eyes darted from one creature to the next as she fought down a surge of panic. She had to stay calm, focused.

She had to look for an out, an opportunity to fight free. The first creature, having loosed its tongue from her wrist, now swayed menacingly in front of her. It reached for her with its moon-white hands, and she braced herself for the fatal strike she was sure would follow…yet none did.

Instead, it grabbed hold of her heavy, firm tits, and began to knead.

“W-what—no, stop, d-don’t…don’t touch me!” she growled, but the creature ignored her. It sank its fingers into the soft, pliant flesh of her breasts, squeezing them hungrily. Its touch was shockingly feverish and intensely hot against her pale skin. With surprising dexterity, it hefted her full tits, as if appreciatively assessing their weight. She stared in mute shock as they pulled and kneaded, and to her horror, she felt her already stiff nipples swell even further into its heated palms.

Jungle Babe choked out a gasp, as pangs of unwanted pleasure splintered through her tits. This was wrong, there was no way she should be feeling anything but utter revulsion from being groped this way…and yet the pleasure was there all the same, and growing stronger by the moment. She tried to twist away from him, but his companions held her fast. The creature continued to slowly work over her sensitive breasts, and Jungle Babe was finding it harder and harder to ignore the growing thrum of pleasure tugging at her resolve.

Then the creature caught her nipple in its savage fingers, and began to twist.

“NO! N-no…oh…don’t…no…!” she gasped, shivering as a blush crept unbidden over her cheeks. She was breathing harder now, still struggling to resist, yet finding the growing ache in her nipples and breasts unnervingly enticing. The monster alternated its strokes, one moment firmly massaging and kneading her heavy tits, and the next teasingly tugging at their rigid peaks. Soon, the relentless manipulation began to take its toll on her hopelessly aroused body, and Jungle Babe began to pant.

“This is wrong! I-I shouldn’t be enjoying this,” her mind cried dismally. She screwed her eyes shut, no longer able to watch the way her breasts were being so confidently fondled. “Why…why does it feel so…good…”

The horror behind her pulled on her trapped wrists, forcing her to arch her back, thrusting her breasts into the hot, lustful hands assaulting them. She whimpered a weak moan, her head lolling back to rest against the creature’s shoulder. She was getting so dizzy, it was impossible to keep her head up.

“Stop it…stop…” she gasped, but even she could hear the resolve cracking in her voice. Oh god, what was happening to her?

While the wicked attack on her breasts went on above, the monster at her legs was not idle. It shifted beneath her, sliding onto its back so that her feet were forced apart on either side of its naked chest. It kept her ankles pinned between its arms and torso, while its hands firmly grasped her just behind the knees. It opened its hellish jaws, and sent its long tongue to begin licking against the trembling flesh of her inner thighs. Jungle Babe cried out in sudden shock as that overheated, slimy appendage made contact with her sensitive skin, and surged mightily against the hands holding her tight. No! She knew what he meant to do! She had to get away!

But her struggles were useless. They were stronger than she was, their grip unyeilding, and all she got for her troubles was a tired, withering ache in her limbs. She sobbed, her legs shaking, as the monstrous tongue laved her flesh with long, wet strokes. Every lash made her stomach clench, and her thighs tingle far too pleasantly. Little by little, the tongue wormed its way up the inside of her leg, taunting her with its touch as it honed in on its prize.

Her pussy quivered in helpless anticipation. She groaned miserably. Every lick seemed to siphon away more and more of her strength. She could feel her legs shaking as she sagged against the creature behind her, until it alone supported her weight. She felt so weak, so powerless…and so ridiculously turned on.

At last the creeping tongue reached the tattered flap of her loincloth, and snaked beneath.

Jungle Babe uttered a breathless, halting gasp. The first lingering swipe of that inhuman tongue against her sex made her hips spasm as forbidden pleasure lanced up her spine. Her eyes shot open, red lips parting in a trembling moan. It danced along the thin strip of fabric that ran between her swollen pussy lips, grazing her labia, and brushing across the tiny erect bud of her clitoris. Her pussy blossomed beneath the sinister caress, and the wetness she had so fervently tried to deny began to soak around her leather thong. The creature’s tongue eagerly sought it out, stroking her weeping sex to coax out more and more of her sweet juice.

She moaned in reluctant, delicious agony.

As the insidious seduction of her pussy continued, her wide, deperate eyes began to grow heavy, lidded. With every passing moment, and every debilitating caress, they sank lower and lower, growing dazed, unfocused. The fingers at her breasts continued to fill them with a delightful ache, and her clitoris was positively throbbing.

“Nooo…nn…oh…ooohh…” she moaned, wilting. Her head swam. A flood of desire welled up inside her, making it hard to focus, hard to think. Almost with a mind of their own, her trembling thighs began to part, sinking her lower, opening her up to the long, liquid-hot strokes that were steadily eroding her will. Her cheeks felt flushed and unbearably hot, as if they were absorbing the feverish warmth radiating from her inhuman captors and making it their own.

Her captors…it was getting harder and harder to think of them that way. The way they were holding her, touching her, it was so dominating, so aggressive. Some deep-set part of her mind, perhaps coaxed to prominence by the swirling, evil miasma, was increasingly telling her that she secretly wanted this. She wanted them to take her, to strip away all pretense of resistance and use her like the raw, sexual object she truly was.

You’re a slut, it seemed to say. They can sense it in you. Only a slut would be getting as turned on as you are. Only a slut would be spreading her legs. You pretend to fight, you pretend to resist…but you secretly love it, don’t you? Why not just give in? Why not just…submit…?

“Noooo,” she wailed, clinging desperately to whatever shred of her willpower remained, “I—I can’t…I can’t…its wrong…its…OHHH!”

Sensing that their prey teetered on the brink of sexual submission, the creature’s moved in for the kill. The creature molesting her breasts hooked his claws into the cups of her bikini top, and slowly peeled them away. Her heaving breasts spilled eagerly into its waiting hands, and now she felt its heated touch on every inch of her trembling, swollen tits. His palms brushed roughly over her sensitive nipples, dragging a strangled moan from her slim throat. Sharp claws traced light, entrancing spirals around and around her rigid peaks, before trapping and pulling, lifting up so that the weight of her breasts forced her taut nipples to surge with unwanted glee. Jungle Babe panted, groaning, her pussy gushing with damning wetness. When at last she felt the slimy lash of its sinuous tongue across her throbbing tits, she nearly exploded in orgasm right there.

“OOOHH! Oh please….don’t…stop…!” she sobbed, even as she arched her back further, presenting her tits, almost begging for that cunning tongue to strike her harder. So consumed was she in the way it was playing with her breasts that she didn’t notice the monster behind her reach down, claws grazing her flat belly, until she felt him hook the sodden strip of her thong, and pull it completely aside.

At once, her dripping pussy was naked, open and vulnerable to the writhing organ still dancing between her legs. Her pleading cry never made it past her lips, as the monstrous tool slid between her glistening folds and silenced her protests with a kiss of mind-numbing pleasure.

Jungle Babe cried out, her pussy gushing obediently onto that devil tongue as it slid into her unprotected sex. The sensation of that monstrous organ, long, smooth, simultaneously firm yet softly yielding…it was too much for her. It stole the breath from her lungs, made her stomach flutter in helpless excitement, as it devoured her wet pussy. She sank toward it, a helpless, lost look in her eyes. She no longer had the will to fight it, to resist the delicious pleasure of feeling that tongue drag across her swollen, throbbing little clit. Her hips moved with a mind of their own, thrusting against the vile thing with uncontrollable, grateful need. She could feel her body tensing, climbing higher and higher as each lustful swipe of that inhuman weapon lashed her with wicked bliss. She was gasping, trembling, powerless against the pleasure that surged in her pussy.

Then, just as she reached the edge, it found the entrance to her sex and drove in, and she screamed as her body seized in the throes of a massive, crushing orgasm. The creatures felt her succumb, writhing in their grasp, and continued to pleasure her as she gasped and moaned in helpless, uncontrollable ecstasy. When at last they allowed her torment to end, when that sinuous organ finally pulled itself out of her gushing, grasping cunt, she crumpled to her knees atop the creature beneath her.

“So…good…” she moaned, swaying on her knees, her beautiful eyes glazed with lust. She drifted in a deep, erotic haze, barely aware, as the aftershocks of her devastating orgasm continued to ripple through her. The two creatures towered above her, staring down at the beautiful, busty blonde with inhuman cruelty. The first one reached for the fabric of its pants, and a moment later the sound of shredding fabric filled Jungle Babe’s ears. She turned just in time to see the engorged shaft of its cock pull free from its ruined pants, and let out a sharp, shocked gasp.

Whatever hideous transformation had changed these creatures from man to monster had altered them here too. His size was prodigious, a thick column of pale flesh pulsing with a web of swollen blue veins. Thick precum oozed from the bulbous head in a constant, steady stream, drooling glistening, pearlescent strands to the wooden floor. It was a foreboding sight, an emotionless weapon of sexual domination, and it was aimed right at her face.

But the sight that should have filled her with terror and panicked struggles was instead met with disbelieving eyes and an awed, shuddering moan. She stared in rapt fascination as that engorged member swayed dangerously in front of her, while wild, unspeakable urges began to fill her mind. Her already plummeting rationality sank to primitive levels, the sight of it making her pussy ache in sudden, terrible longing. When she felt its clawed hand grab a fistful of her hair, her eyes fluttered shut, and her lips parted in an eager, submissive sigh.

It rubbed its drooling cockhead across her lips, her cheeks, painting trails of shining precum in a derisive show of ownership. She should have railed against being subjected to such humiliation, but the way it made her pussy throb and her mouth water told a far different story. When again she felt it press insistently against her soft lips, her mouth opened of its own volition to accept the hot, throbbing head into its warm embrace.

Jungle Babe groaned as the heady, salty taste of him filled her mouth. The creature held her head still, rocking its hips as it slowly fed her more and more of its swollen cock, but in truth the restraint was totally unnecessary. She sucked on him greedily, thrilling as she accepted more and more of him into her eager mouth. Her clit throbbed, her pulse raced; pure, submissive excitement coursed through her. Why was she doing this? Why did it thrill her so much? Her addled mind barely had time to even register the questions before they were wiped away by the overwhelming presence of him in her throat.

As she was made to pleasure him with her mouth and tongue, the other two creatures freed their own cocks from their confining garments. She whimpered as she felt her hand being guided to another rigid shaft. She closed her fingers around it, unable to contain his girth, marveling at how absolutely hot and soft the skin felt in her grasp. It throbbed in her hand as she began to stroke it, rivulets of precum spilling from the head to ooze over her pumping hand. Beneath her, the creature she sat upon grabbed hold of her hips, maneuvering them back towards his loins. She moaned around the thick shaft in her mouth when she felt the length of him press against her swollen, dripping pussy lips.

She began rocking against him, grinding her clit against his turgid column of flesh, and covering him with her wetness. Drool escaped the corners of her parted lips to dribble off her chin as she slurped up and down the pulsing shaft in her mouth. She let him go with a hungry gasp, only to turn her head and pull the second cock between her sucking lips.

“I shouldn’t be doing this,” a small, miserable part of her mind sobbed, “I shouldn’t be enjoying this so much…but I want them. God I want them so bad…I want them inside me, filling me, fucking me…I want it…I want it…”

She rocked on her knees, grinding herself towards another massive orgasm, while she serviced the two creatures towering over her like a needy, desperate slut. Maybe that’s what she was. Maybe, deep down, it’s what she really longed to be. She didn’t know, it was impossible to focus, to think…but what she did know was that if the cock in her mouth exploded, if she felt him fill her mouth with his seed…there’d be no turning back.

She began sucking him harder.

She felt him starting to tense, felt the steady trickle of precum grow into an oozing stream, and knew he was nearly there. She moaned in hopeless desire, crushing her clit against the monstrous cock between her legs. She was going to come too. Yes, she could feel him pulsing! She was making him come! Yes…yes…YES!

But at the last second, the creature suddenly lurched to the side, pulling free from her gasping lips. She almost sobbed at the loss, her eyes opening in confusion. The creature jerked like a speared fish, staggering dangerously on its feet before collapsing to the ground in a shuddering pile. Only then did she see the massive crossbow bolt protruding from the ruined hole in its skull, and the spreading puddle of gore that gushed out of it. The other creature spun in enraged alarm, but it barely managed to issue an angry hiss before a second bolt found its mark.

Its eye socket exploded in a spray of foul ichor, the force of the shot snapping its misshapen head back and knocking it to the ground.

Jungle Babe blinked in utter confusion, the heavy, erotic fog starting to lift from her mind. “W-what…what’s happening…” she murmured, before her eyes finally focused on the small figure standing atop the elder’s desk, and the massive crossbow it held in its dainty hands.

“DANA!” Anna cried, “Dana, look out!”

Her voice pierced the veil of sexual control that had fallen over her, and Jungle Babe blinked in sudden, horrified clarity just as the monster beneath her issued a hellish hiss. I reached for her neck with its clawed fingers, meaning to tear out her throat, but she was faster. Moving almost by reflex, she grabbed hold of its skeletal face, and slammed its head into the wooden floor with a wet, sickening thud. The creature jerked uncontrollably, gurgling angrily at her, so she did it again. This time her ears were filled with a meaty crunch, and its arms fell limply to the floor.

Atop the table, Anna struggled to control her rapid, panicked breathing. “Dana…Dana are you alright? Oh god, what the hell are they, what—” she stopped, eyes widening in concern. “D-Dana…?”

But Jungle Babe wasn’t answering her. She stared in wide, disbelieving horror at the thing beneath her, panting, nearly hyperventilating. Oh god, what had she done? What had she let them do? She saw her near nakedness, could still feel his stubbornly swollen cock twitching against her thigh…and could not contain the wave of revulsion that swelled inside her.

With terrible force she pulled back on the thing’s ruin of a head, and began smashing it, again and again, against the foul-stained floor.

“God damn it,” she sobbed, “God damn it, god damn it, god DAMN IT!

Anna set down the heavy crossbow, watching the grisly scene with undisguised terror. “Dana…Dana, stop…”

But the heroine was like a woman possessed. Again and again she smashed the thing against the ground, the skull splintered, cracked like an overripe melon, barely recognizable as a head at all. “I’m not a slut. I’m not. I’m NOT! God DAMN it!”

Suddenly, she felt two small hands grab hold of her shoulders, and she froze, trembling.

“It’s ok,” Anna whispered, tears streaming down her cheeks, “It’s ok now. They’re dead. You’re safe. It’s ok…” Jungle Babe stared at the young woman with wide, wet eyes. Slowly, she released her bloody grip on the monster’s ruined skull, and sagged into Anna’s shoulder. She wanted to cry, but the tears wouldn’t come. She felt so ashamed.

Why had she acted that way? What the hell was wrong with her? They were monsters, inhuman, they had forced themselves upon her…and she had responded like a willing whore.

God, what was happening to her?

“Dana, Dana we have to go,” Anna was whispering to her, stroking her hair, “The mist is everywhere, there might be more of those…things…!”

Jungle Babe shuddered, but she could feel her raging pulse slowing, could feel her breathing coming under control. She swallowed hard, the taste of the monster’s thick discharge still in her mouth. She hated how, even now, the lingering sensation made her pussy quiver. She staggered to her feet, angrily swiping away at the precum smeared across her cheek.

“T-thank you,” she said, hardly able to meet Anna’s gaze. How much had the poor girl seen? How long had she watched…? She quickly adjusted her costume, covering herself. Her hands wouldn’t stop trembling. “We have to get out there. The villagers, they’re in danger. We have to save them…”

“It’s a little too late for that.”

The women turned to see Samuelson leaning against the frame of the doorway. His features were ashen.

Jungle Babe frowned. “What do you mean? The villagers—”

“You don’t understand,” he rasped through a throat as dry as parchment. “Those monsters ARE the villagers.”

Jungle Babe — In the Clutches of Cernunnos

Chapter 4: The Night’s Black Wings

Hours Earlier…

Sandra stalked through the carved stone hallways of the temple, her feet padding silently across the smooth floor. Her tail swished in her wake, swiping side to side in tense arcs. Her golden eyes smoldered with an animalistic fury she could barely contain. She had just finished administering to Carmen and the psychic backlash she’d suffered when her link to the Master’s garden had been so horrifically severed. She’d poured her a draught of the strong, sweet wine from the ancient casks hidden in the temple to help ease the pain, but Carmen had been terribly adamant that she should leave her be.

“I’m fine,” her had sister insisted, speaking with that strange, sultry hiss that had accompanied her dramatic metamorphosis. “You ssshould go. The Massster will need your ssstrength.”

So as reluctant as she had been to leave her sister to suffer her recovery alone, Sandra had slipped away, and with every step she’d taken, the protective urges she’d felt towards her sister had been replaced with a growing, howling fury. She would find the men responsible for this. She would tear them apart.

That had been mere moments ago. Now she approached her Master’s chambers, and Sandra meant to do whatever was needed to convince him to let her mete out her revenge. But no sooner did she round the corner leading to the final hallway than she saw her remaining sibling, the bat-like Angie, saunter through the doorway, a strange, dark vial in her grip.

Sandra stopped short. “Angie, what are you doing here?”

The sultry redhead brushed back a lock of misplaced hair, smoothing it behind her elfin, pointed ears. Her face was flushed, and she was absently sucking on her glistening fingers like a child would at a sweet. She smiled impishly at her older sister, mischief gleaming in her red eyes.

“The Master has tasked me with something important,” she explained. “The humans have retreated to their little hovels. He wishes to send them a little gift.”

She hefted the glass vial for Sandra to see. Inside the green glass, thick, viscous fluid sloshed and swirled. Color rose on Sandra’s cheeks. She didn’t need her puckish sibling to tell her what it was.

Amused with the flash of jealousy she saw on her sister’s face, Angie did so anyway. “It’s amazing how much he can cum,” she said with a dreamy sigh, “I would have done anything for him, but he insisted that I only use my hands…”

She laughed. “I guess he didn’t trust me not to swallow it all, if he let me use my mouth…”

Sandra could contain her anger no more, “But why you?!” she demanded, teeth barred in a snarl. “These humans dared to harm our sister, to threaten our pride. As eldest, it should fall on me to deliver punishment, not you!”

Angie cocked her head, smirking, “I think perhaps you’re getting a little carried away, my lovely lioness. Not that we don’t appreciate your valor, but the Master feels this mission would be better served with subtlety…not savagery.”

With that, the crimson vixen skipped past her, and vanished into the dark halls. Sandra watched her go, feeling confused, angry, and hurt. Did he really think her so unfit for the task? But why? He had to know how badly she wanted the honor, how fiercely she wished to serve. He meant everything to her. Every aspect of her being was his to use, his to command; her loyalty, her lust…

Her love.

She felt horrible uncertainty tearing at her insides again. Had she done something wrong? Had she fallen out of favor somehow? Trying to quell the disquiet thundering in her chest, she turned back towards the great door leading to his chambers, and stepped inside.

She found him easing upon the great raised dais in the center of the room. Her master was larger than any man, and the mattress was sized to match. She always felt swallowed up by it; it made her feel small, helpless, powerless. Just the sight of it made her little clitty start to throb.

As soon as she entered, she felt his burning eyes upon her.

“Ah, my dear Sandra,” he said, his voice a rumbling growl, “Come. I’ve been expecting you.”

The sound of his voice was completely mesmerizing to her. Sandra sighed tremulously. The blush on her cheeks deepened, only this time it was not anger coloring her features, but desire. She sauntered to the bed, acutely aware of the way his eyes followed every sway of her hips. She climbed onto the mattress, and crawled into his waiting arms. She straddled his leg, tangling her fingers in the thick mantle of his chest as she stared up at him adoringly. She purred contentedly as she felt his clawed fingers begin lightly petting along the length of her supine back. Her ears folded meekly against her shining mane of hair. Instantly, the frustration and anxiety she felt after her encounter with Angie began melting away.

His smoldering green eyes burned into hers. “I sense disquiet in you, Sandra. Tell me what troubles you.”

At that moment, close to him, his hands upon her, Sandra felt as far from troubled as she had in days. She would have been happy just allowing him to stroke her this way, but her Master had asked her a question, and she was compelled to answer. “It’s nothing, Master…merely frustration; the humans must be made to pay for their arrogance, and I had thought—”

“That I would send you to cull their number?” he chuckled, “Like a lion into a herd of sheep, you would have slaughtered them all. Is that what you would have me do, Sandra? Unleash you into the unwitting herd of men?”

She nodded slowly, blushing at the sound of pride in his voice. “They should be routed. Torn apart. Their bodies should fatten the earth and their blood water your forest.” A tremor of excitement raced through her. “Let me do it. Call back Angie, and let me take her place.”

She felt his chest rumble beneath her fingers, her words arousing his own animalistic bloodlust. She felt his divine manhood stir against her leg, and his hand moved to seize one of her large, eager breasts. She moaned.

“My brave Sandra,” he crooned, “I have no doubt that you would succeed. Indeed, I believe you would do only too well.” When he saw her eyes raise in confusion, he continued, “It is not enough that we slay our enemies, my pet. Humans are foolish, and care little for the spilled blood of their fellows. If I allowed you to devour this pathetic band of resistance, their death would simply spur the rise of another.”

“And I will kill them too!” she whined, grinding her suddenly overheated sex against the unyielding musculature of his thigh. “I’ll cut them down, however many times they rise up!”

She gasped as his arms wrapped around her, crushing her in his embrace. Her nipples bored into his chest, hard and insistent. She could feel her wetness trickling down her thighs. He made her this way, she thought in awe; just being close to him drove her out of her mind with lust. She could feel him against her, hot and throbbing, and wanted nothing more than to envelop him in her slick folds, but she knew better than to act without permission. So she waited, writhing hungrily in his arms, her desire for him growing more and more unbearable by the moment.

“Valorous. Ruthless. Beautiful. You truly are my golden lion,” he said, his praise nearly driving her to tears. “But a just ruler knows when to use force, and when to be lenient. Some lessons, dear Sandra, are best learned not through pain…but through fear.”

He grabbed hold of her thrusting hips then, and moved her atop the glistening head of his cock. She gasped raggedly as she felt it spread apart the lips of her cunt and braced her hands against his broad chest. Any protest she might have made died the instant she felt him enter her. Her anger, her fear, her frustration, all of it faded away, replaced by irresistible, submissive need. He pulled her down his waiting shaft, plunging nearly halfway in. Sandra let out a low, incoherent groan, her golden eyes rolling up. After being without him for so long, just having him enter her was making her neglected pussy quiver in small, rapid-fire tremors.

“Angie will deliver their punishment, as I’ve commanded,” he intoned, watching with smug satisfaction as his cock overwhelmed the beautiful lioness. “But never fear, my dear. I have a very special task for you…very special prey…”

She couldn’t answer him anymore. He was holding her by her slim waist, moving her up and down his pulsing cock. She arched her back, moaning gratefully, kneading her own aching breasts in wanton need. “OOohh…oh master….oh yesss…”

“The woman the humans rescued from the vines, she is the real threat.” His eyes flashed hungrily. “You will find her for me, Sandra. You will subdue her, and lay her at my feet.”

“Yes…yes, my lord….oooohhh yess…!” Sandra gasped, feeling him swell inside her. Her hips rocked into his thrusts as he buried the full length of his taming cock in her dripping pussy. So thick. So deep. She groaned in penetrated bliss as his cock filled her with raw, enslaving pleasure.

“Such an obedient pet,” he chuckled, “Always so eager to please. I’ve missed the sweet sound of your voice, my dear. Scream for me now…and come.”

And Sandra, her mind going blank with white-hot ecstasy, helplessly obeyed.

* * *

Angie leaned back against the thick trunk of the great oak tree, and stared down at the small cluster of houses nestled against the forest edge. Chimney smoke climbed towards the early dawn sky in long, winding trails. The sun hadn’t quite risen yet, and only the blistering pink edge on the horizon hinted at its approach. The full, setting moon teetered perilously close to the ground, brilliant and pale.

She was twenty feet in the air, perched upon a thick branch. From her vantage point, she could make out not only the town, but the dark, ramshackle fence the villagers had erected on the outskirts of the tree line. She saw the men patrolling about along the perimeter, some with heavy tanks strapped to their backs. They moved about anxiously, peering fearfully into the deep shadow of the woods for any hint of danger. Their instincts were correct, of course…not that it would help them at all.

She unstopped the brilliant green flask, and sighed dreamily as the scent of its contents filled her nose. She felt a torrid, familiar heat blossom inside her, and licked her lips hungrily.

Don’t be naughty, she chided herself, do as you’re told. The master will be horribly cross with you if you indulge…

So, with some difficulty, Angie extended the flask over the side of her perch, and tilted it down. The thick, cloudy fluid poured to the ground, and Angie watched it go with a sense of almost painful loss. Such a waste, but her Master’s orders were very clear. As the noxious substance struck the soil it immediately began to bubble and froth, until the last dregs of the flask were emptied into the roiling puddle.

Angie heard it hissing, and watched in wide-eyed awe as it sank into the rich loam. For a moment, there was nothing but pregnant silence…but then she heard what could only be described as a great, earthy exhalation as the ground all around her began to puff and smoke.

Thin swirls of mist flowed into great rolling waves, as all at once a vile, unnatural miasma issued up from the soil in a wide, low cloud. Angie stared in silent awe as it shifted and flowed, almost like a blind animal. Then, as if heeding the call of some distant will, the mist began clawing along the ground, moving with slow but sinister purpose towards the unsuspecting village.

In the light of the setting moon, the ground looked alive with pale green luminescence. An old rhyme suddenly sprang up in her mind, oddly fitting. Angie smiled.

“It is the very error of the moon,” she whispered, watching the fog rolling up to the makeshift fencing. She heard the suddenly frantic cries of the men along the patrol…then shouts of alarm…followed by sounds almost too terrible to contemplate. Down below, she could hear the screams gaining volume as the villagers awoke to a nightmare.

“She comes nearer earth than she is wont…and makes men mad…”

She laughed, spread her wings, and vanished into the trees.

* * *

“We have to get out there,” Jungle Babe said to Anna, trying to control the tremor in her voice. “The villagers, they’re in danger. We have to save them…”

“It’s a little too late for that.”

The women turned to see Samuelson leaning against the frame of the doorway. His features were ashen.

Jungle Babe frowned. “What do you mean? The villagers—”

“You don’t understand,” he rasped through a throat as dry as parchment. “Those monsters ARE the villagers.”

Jungle Babe and Anna stared at Samuelson in uncomprehending, mute horror. It was actually Anna who found her voice first. “That…those things were…human?”

Jungle Babe looked at the ruined puddle of gore that used to be the head of one of the creatures, looked at the spatters of blood on her trembling hand…and felt all the blood drain out of her face. Oh god…what had she…

“How is this possible? Jungle Babe demanded, turning on Samuelson.

The old man looked at the corpses of the once-men, his face drawn. “I don’t understand the powers arranged against us any more than you do. I only know the stories, and on this they are explicitly clear: Cernunnos can reshape living beings to suit his twisted goals. These men were as much victims of his power as the trees of the forest.”

“Grandpa, you have to leave!” Anna pleaded, rushing to the old man. “Please, you have to go, or you’ll end up like—you’ll become just like them…!”

He placed his hands on her shoulders, trying to steady her. “Anna, it’s alright…really…I don’t think I’m at risk, not yet anyway. Look at their boots, at their clothes; these were the men who were trying to eradicate the corrupted vegetation. They were tainted somehow…and when the mist enveloped the village—”

“They transformed completely,” Jungle Babe finished for him. She swallowed hard. “But I was exposed to those plants too. Why haven’t I transformed?”

He looked at her wanly, “Isn’t it obvious? You’re female. The Beast has other intentions for you.”

From the street outside, a low, distant groan floated into the town hall, abruptly silencing the conversation. Samuelson pushed Anna towards Jungle Babe, “There’s no time. Any minute now more of those things might wander in here, you need to go.” He looked at Jungle Babe, his features pleading, “Please, get Anna out of here.”

Dana nodded, her jaw set, “I give you my word.”

“NO!” Anna shouted, eyes shining wetly, “I’m not leaving you here! Come with us!”

Samuelson smiled at his granddaughter, pushing a stray lock of hair out of her eyes. “I’m an old man, Anna. I’ll only slow you down. Don’t worry about me, this building has many places that I can hide, and for quite some time. They aren’t interested in me. You, though, you’re in imminent danger. These creatures are extensions of the Beast, and will search you out. You must flee. Now!”

Then, remembering something, he ran back to the main table. When he returned, he shoved the heavy bound folio into Anna’s arms. “Take this. It may contain something you can use. Now please, go!”

He kissed her goodbye, disentangling himself from her arms. She sobbed only once before she seemed to draw upon some hidden resolve. She straightened, stilling her shuddering shoulders, and angrily swiped away the streaks of tears on her face. “Stay here,” she said to Samuelson, “Stay safe. I’ll come find you when this is over. I love you, Grandpa.”

She grabbed the folio, and slung the crossbow over her shoulder, and with that, she and Jungle Babe escaped into the mist-shrouded streets.

* * *

The pale light of early dawn beat ineffectually against the clouds of shifting mist enveloping Anna’s small village. As she and Dana glanced warily up and down the brick-paved streets, they were dismayed to find that visibility was woefully bad. Even the building across the street from the town hall seemed hazy and indistinct; anything beyond twenty feet away was simply swallowed up by the fog.

Everything was eerily still.

“It’s too quiet…” Anna murmured beside Jungle Babe, tightly clutching the heavy book to her chest. “Why is it so quiet?”

Dana shook her head, “Just stay close. How many people live in your village, Anna?”

She thought for a moment, “No more than sixty.”

“How many men went into the woods?

Another pause. “Twenty or so. Anyone who was able-bodied took a turn either at the fence or in the forest.”

Jungle Babe frowned. She had to assume they were horribly outnumbered. They were barely armed, and while she was more than capable in close combat and Anna had her crossbow, the low visibility made it far more likely that they could be surrounded and overwhelmed with little warning. The creatures themselves seemed ponderous and slow, but they were hideously strong, and with those prehensile tongues…

She shuddered, shoving the memory aside. They had to get clear of the town.

“I need to get you to a car. You need to get away from here,” she said sternly to Anna. When the young woman opened her mouth to protest, Dana cut her off, “I don’t want to hear it. I promised your grandfather I would get you to safety, and that’s what I’m going to do. If you complain again, I’ll carry you out of here, understand?”

Frustration welled in her hazel eyes, but she bit her tongue, and nodded reluctantly. “There’s a truck behind the grocer. It’s not far from here.” She gestured down the street. “That way.”

Wordlessly they began cutting through the fog, keeping as close to the buildings as they could. Dana’s ears burned for how hard she was listening for any hint of approach, but the village was deathly silent. They footfalls on the road seemed to hammer in the gauzy air, and she had this almost irrational sense that they were announcing their location far and wide. They had made it four or five houses down when she noticed Anna had started to fall behind.

She turned to the young woman, who was leaning against a building facade wearily, “Anna? Anna what’s wrong?”

Anna appeared flushed, winded. She held a hand against her head, blinking heavily. “I’m…I’m not sure. My heart’s been hammering ever since those things showed up at the town hall, and I…I just can’t seem to catch my breath.” She swallowed hard. Her hand slipped down her face, and brushed absently at the soft sweater she was wearing. “I…I feel kind of…funny…” Dana felt the color drain from her face. She grabbed Anna’s arm, and gave the dazed girl a hard shake. “Listen to me,” she said, “This mist does something to you, it messes with your head, with your body. It makes you feel things, want things, but none of it is real. You have to push through it. Can you do that?”

Jungle Babe could see the struggle in the girl’s eyes, but she nodded, lips tight.

Easier said than done, Jungle Babe thought dejectedly to herself. She knew exactly what Anna was going through because she was feeling it herself. The surge of adrenaline from her encounter with the creatures was wearing off, and the ebb of that momentary rush left her feeling heavy, tired. She could feel an unwanted heat riding high on her cheeks, and the sinister pleasure that had been forced upon her had not fully dissipated. It smoldered inside her restlessly, and left her body feeling impossibly sensitized. Having suffered the effects of the mist before, Jungle Babe was somewhat able to force those feelings aside, but Anna…

She took the girl’s hand, “Come on. It can’t be much farther.”

They reached the end of the row of houses, and Anna gestured for them to cut right. As they rounded the corner of the last house, they heard the sudden clatter of shattering glass, so loud in the unnatural calm that is might as well have been the peal of thunder. Jungle Babe and Anna dove against the wall of the house, flattening against it in a crouch. Dana looked at her young companion, who had turned almost sheet white. A moment later, they heard more cracking, accompanied by a low, whimpering moan.

Jungle Babe glanced up at the window to the house, and motioned to Anna. The sound was coming from inside. Moving with almost painful slowness, they rose up until they could peer through the lower panes of glass. They were not prepared for the sight that awaited them.

The window looked in on the kitchen, and the room was in shambles. The ground was littered with fallen canisters and shattered wedges of china. A drawer full of silverware had been yanked out of its cabinet and flung against the far wall, scattering cutlery in mad arcs across the wooden floor. And in the center of it all were two figures, one human, one decidedly not.

The woman was wearing a simple yellow dress, marred with stains of the most disquieting sort. She was laying across the kitchen table, while one of the mist-creatures loomed by her head. Unlike the three from the town hall, this one wore not a scrap of clothing, revealing its entire body to be the same wiry, milk-white physique they had seen in the others. In one clawed hand it clutched a handful of the woman’s hair, holding her still while its thick, veined cock rocked into her gaping mouth.

“Oh god, that’s Lorna Davis,” Anna hissed, her eyes widening in alarm, “We have to help her!” She grabbed the crossbow on her shoulder and made to rise, but Dana grabbed her wrist, and forcibly pulled her back down. Anna gaped at her incredulously, “What are you doing? Let me go!”

“It’s too late for her,” Jungle Babe said, clenching her jaw. “Look.”

Seeing the look on Dana’s face, Anna turned back to the sight in the kitchen, and uttered a shocked gasp. Her eyes fell back to the woman’s head moving up and down the creature’s swollen cock, and she realized with dawning horror that it wasn’t the creature that was moving, but Lorna herself. Her lips were fastened tightly around the thickly-veined shaft, sucking hungrily, while her hand encircled him at his base to steady him for her ministrations. Every stroke revealed how much of that glistening cock she was taking into her mouth, with half the length still to go. She seemed undaunted, eagerly trying to draw as much of him into her as she could. They could hear the soft, urgent moans she made around his wet, throbbing thickness. Her legs shifted uselessly on the table, rubbing her thighs together in response to the secret, aching need subsuming her will.

“What’s happened to her?” Anna murmured in disbelief, “Why…why is she…?”

But she never finished her question; at that moment, they saw the creature’s abdomen clench, and Lorna groaned in grateful bliss. Her throat began swallowing furiously, but she couldn’t keep up. Thick, white cum spilled out around the monster’s pumping cock, leaking down her chin and neck, running in streams down his shaft to cover her hand. Finally, when it seemed as though she might actually drown in his seed, the creature pulled her off him with a choking gasp. Lorna was panting, her cheeks flushed, and her tongue chased him as he retracted his still-spurting head from her lips.

Before their hopelessly rapt gaze, the monster reached down and grabbed hold of her dress. There was a terrible ripping noise, and with inhuman strength it ripped her clothes to pieces. Razor-sharp nails made short work of her bra, revealing pert breasts capped by damningly hard, swollen nipples. With almost casual strength the creature shifted her like a doll, pulling her curvy ass to the edge of the table. Her slim cotton panties were absolutely drenched, so wet they were almost translucent. She was writhing on the wood surface, moaning, but made no effort to escape when the creature hooked the waistband of her panties in its claws, and snipped them apart.

Her head lolled towards the window, staring with glazed, half-lidded eyes. The mist had her completely in its seductive spell, and any part of her conscious, rational mind that might have resisted was totally drowned out by the surging tide of her own unbridled desire. Even in her haze though, she seemed to notice Dana and Anna’s faces at the window, because for a moment her eyes seemed to focus. She stared at them imploringly, and made as if to call out, but at that moment the creature pressed the still-spurting head of its cock against her drooling pussy, and drove inside. Lorna gasped, and uttered a deep, wounded moan, and the light of awareness left her eyes. They rolled up in her head as she arched her back, whimpering in helpless pleasure as the creature’s cock slid in and in and in. Her hips rose to meet him, and in a single drawn-out thrust, her buried himself in her to the hilt.

The sounds she made as he began to fuck her were not the cries of a woman wracked by pain or consumed by terror, and somehow that made it even worse. Jungle Babe noticed with a start that her own nipples were aching and swollen, peaking through her animal-print bikini top, and her pussy was positively throbbing. She shuddered, forced herself to look away, and fought to control her suddenly too-rapid breathing.

Ever muscle in her body was crying out for her to get up, to charge through that window and snap that creature’s spine…but what then? Could she save Lorna too? How could she protect her and Anna when she had failed so miserably even to protect herself? How many more women were there in that same position; stripped, laid bare, lulled into being some monster’s sexual plaything by the insidious influence of the cloying mists.

There was only one way to save her, and everyone like her; the Beast at the heart of all of this had to be brought down.

“Anna,” she said, her throat painfully dry, “Anna, we have to go.”

“His ring…”

Jungle Babe turned back with a start, “What?”

Anna stared through the window through half-lidded eyes. “Their hands…the rings…they’re the same…”

Jungle Babe looked again, and saw that she was right. On each of their left hands, a simple loop of silver glittered in the light of the ruined kitchen. Dana blanched.

“It’s her husband,” Anna whispered, her voice fluttering, “He came for her. He did this to her…made her gasp…made her…moan…”

The girl’s voice sounded dreamy, far away; it matched the distant look in her pretty eyes as they stared, helplessly fixated, on the nightmarish coupling just beyond the glass. Jungle Babe’s gaze darted to the girl’s hands, and saw them pressed between her slender thighs where she knelt, gently swaying, in front of the window. Muttering a curse under her breath, the blonde heroine reached down, grabbed hold of her wrists, and pulled her away.

“Anna, snap out of it!” she begged, shaking the girl’s shoulders. “Don’t give in. Stay with me. Anna!”

The pretty brunette blinked heavily, sagging into Jungle Babe’s arms. “I—I don’t…I don’t know what’s happening. Dana…I’m feeling so hot…” Just as Jungle Babe made to say something else, the sound of a footfall shuffling through gravel—perilously close—cut through the air. She spun, and saw a dark shape shambling towards them. It was barely fifteen feet away.

Dammit, she let herself get distracted, let it get far too close! They had to run, they had to run NOW.

“Anna, RUN!” she shouted, grabbing her charge by the arm and pulling her hard into a sprint. The dazed young woman stumbled, gasping in shock, but obeyed. Dana felt something hot and wet graze past her neck, and caught sight of the thing’s monstrous tongue as it barely missed snaring her throat. All around them now, she could hear slow, plodding movement. Dark shapes lurched in the mist; everywhere she looked, she saw the mist-masked form of a new horror angling towards them. It was worse than she feared. They were very nearly surrounded.

The street they needed to traverse to reach the general store and its waiting truck stretched out before them, but just ahead, right at the edge of their visibility, a mass of the creatures swayed in wait. Jungle Babe skid to a halt, cursing. There was no way to get through. She couldn’t fight so many of them, not with Anna barely holding on. Her hopes of getting the poor girl to safety were crumbling before her eyes.

You took too long, she shouted angrily at herself, too slow, too late!

Out of the corner of her eye, Dana saw something in the distance, rising just over the cloying haze. The dull green of the tree line peeked over top of the rolling mist. The forest…they were right at its edge.

Low, moaning sounds floated threateningly from every direction. The creatures were closing in. In a moment they would be within range of their lashing tongues, and with so many, there was no way they’d avoid them all. Jungle Babe’s heart was hammering. She struggled to find another alternative, but only one horrible answer presented itself.

She had no choice.

“Stay close, and don’t look back, whatever happens,” she muttered to Anna. She grabbed the young woman’s hand, clenched it tight, and broke into a dead run for the trees.

Behind them, the sound of the crushing throng rose to an angry pitch. Wet, snapping sounds chased them as they drove through the mist, weaving one direction after the next to avoid the slow, malignant shuffling of some new assailant. But the creatures were relentless, and as they reached the sharpened pikes that made up the perimeter fence, one of the things managed to lash its tongue around Jungle Babe’s wrist.

She cursed, her eyes snapping to the source of the fleshy leash coiled around her arm, and saw the thing standing beside the fence. Its clawed arms grasped for them, eagerly reaching, but Jungle Babe wasn’t about to let the same ploy beat her twice. Rather than trying to pull herself free from the thing’s inhuman grip, she charged at its source. She let out a furious shout as her sprint broke into a jump, and her kick smashed into the creature’s chest with a sullen crack. The force of the blow sent the monster flying back—right into the waiting wall of stakes. It issued a gurgling hiss as it was run through from behind, thrashing like a stuck pig. The tongue shuddered around her arm as the strength left it, and it slid wetly away to convulse on the ground like a headless serpent.

Without a single pause, Dana grabbed a shocked Anna by the waist and pulled her through an opening in the fence. She risked a quick glance behind them, and saw the village streets littered with the silent, swaying forms of things that had once been men.

They ran; charging past trees and shrubs, feeling the underbrush cracking beneath their feet. She didn’t let them stop until they were well into the woods, far from the cursed town and its mist-cloaked streets. She was breathing hard, blood pumping at her temples. She looked up at the towering trees, and felt a sick feeling churn in her stomach.

Out of the frying pan and right into the fire, she thought sullenly. She looked beside her at Anna. The young woman was panting fiercely from their escape, but the shock and fear seemed to have cast off the creeping influence of the fog…at least for the time being. she looked back at Dana with wide, wet eyes.

“No way out of it,” Jungle Babe conceded ruefully, “Whether I like it or not, you got your wish.”

Anna swallowed hard, and forced her shaking voice to speak. “Better together than alone at least, right?”

The statuesque blonde looked at the dark woods stretched out before them. The world that usually filled her with joy and excitement, the world that she most readily identified as home, suddenly seemed exactly the opposite of all that. The air hung with a palpable sense of menace, of unseen danger. What else was waiting for them out there?

After a long moment, she shook her head, “I hope you’re right. Come on. We have a long way to go.”

Jungle Babe — In the Clutches of Cernunnos

Chapter 5: Whispers in the Woods

They started by following the path the villagers had cut through the forest in their efforts to purge it of the corrupted trees. The swath of trampled underbrush and burned trees was at least the width of six men, and provided a far faster avenue for traversing the wilderness than anything Jungle Babe had seen thus far. But as convenient as it was, the sight of the ruined landscape was almost enough to make her sick; she’d spent most of her adult life trying to put an end to the wanton destruction of nature, yet for the second time in the last few days, she owed a debt to the hand of man. Fire had saved her from the lustful grip of the demon vines, and fire had now carved a path for them right into the heart of the monster’s domain.

Her ideals would have to take a back seat this time around; the kiss of flame was preferable to the cancer this monster would spread through these woods if he wasn’t stopped.

“Do you think everything will return to normal if we stop the Beast?” Anna asked, trudging behind her and struggling to keep pace.

Dana paused, glancing over her shoulder. After a pained moment, she simply shrugged. “I have no idea. I hope so.” It wasn’t much of an answer, but it was better than lying. Anna wouldn’t have believed her had she said otherwise anyway.

The young woman nodded absently. “Yeah. Me too.”

Jungle Babe took a closer look at the young woman. She couldn’t imagine what was going through her head; the creature’s they’d fled had been her neighbors, her friends. Her very home had been defiled by the encroachment of this sinister power. And on top of all that, she still had her grandfather to worry about. Any one of those things would have been enough to send someone into some very dark places, yet the girl was showing remarkable resolve.

“She’s a brave one, that’s for sure,” she thought ruefully, “But so young. Barely an adult. It shouldn’t be up to her to deal with horrors like this.”

The look in Anna’s eyes said it all. What choice did she have? If not her, then who?

But Jungle Babe had not forgotten what had happened to them in the village. The mists had receded in this part of the woods, granting them temporary safety, but it would be back, and probably worse than before.

“How are you holding up?” she asked as gently as she could.

Anna looked up at her, and tried to smile. “Not the greatest; I’m trying not to think about the village. When I do…” Her eyes suddenly welled up, and she swiped at them quickly. Dana felt awful for asking. “Its fine,” Anna sniffed, “I just want to kill the bastard who did this. Does that make me a bad person?”

Jungle Babe shook her head, “Not to me.”

They continued this way through the forest, talking as little as possible, focusing all their attention on the shadow-cloaked trees and shrouded underbrush. Besides their footfalls, the area was disturbingly quiet. Given the season, the trees should have been humming with the chitter of insects, yet even they were silent. Gone too, just like the wolves, just like everything else. Life seemed to abhor the Beast and whatever unnatural malignancy he represented, like oil repelling water. But the trees could not flee, and seeing their ashen, disfigured forms filled Dana with both sorrow and righteous anger.

They had reached the limits of the villager’s incursion into the haunted woods, and the burn path terminated abruptly against a wall of twisted greenery. The pale sun overhead did little to dispel the cobweb of interlaced shadows from the brittle branches of the treetops, casting everything into eerie gloom. The going would get harder now; the underbrush had not been cleared, and the tangle of roots and shrubbery promised a treacherous hike.

Suddenly, Jungle Babe noticed something in the copse looming ahead, and gestured firmly for Anna to stop.

The young woman reached for her crossbow with reflexive anxiety, glancing searchingly at the mess of trees ahead. “What? What is it?”

Jungle Babe’s hardened gaze rested on a clump of dark coils hanging limply from the upper branches of the withered oaks. Her danger-sense jumped into high gear, setting her heart thundering in her chest. The pale, viscous slime glistening on the ropy mass left no doubt: they were about to enter the territory of the demon vines. Almost in greeting, a light breeze wafted through the woods right then, carrying with it the heady, vaguely masculine aroma of the plants’ vile secretions. To her intense chagrin, Jungle Babe felt something flutter awake inside her as the scent filled her lungs, something hot, anxious, and disturbingly pleasant. The steady, persistent pulsing in her hypersensitive tits, which she had been mercifully able to put out of mind for much of the walk, suddenly fired back into keen prominence.

As much as she hated to believe it, her body clearly remembered what those wicked vines could do, and the eagerness of its reaction was simply frightening.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, a soft, plaintive voice began chanting, “I’m not a slut. I’m not a slut…”

She swallowed hard.

Anna had finally seized upon what had captured Jungle Babe’s attention, and she gasped. “Those…those are the vines, aren’t they? Have we really come so far?”

Jungle Babe nodded, her throat suddenly dry. “It seems so. We’ll have to be extremely cautious from this point on. Walk where I walk, and be mindful of your blind-spots. If anything starts to move, WE move, do you understand? Run, as fast as you can, and don’t stop to look back.”

The gravity of the warning made Anna’s stomach do awful things, but she only nodded, reluctantly holstering her crossbow. It would do little good against an attack by the vines, but holding it had been comforting; and it took dedicated effort to leave it on her shoulder. She needed her hands free though, in case anything happened.

With maximum caution, the two women began to trudge forward, into the dark corridors beneath the vine-strewn canopy.

The trees were horribly marred by this point, pale and wretched, more resembling the narrow stalks of gigantic fungi than sturdy columns of old wood. Treetops that should have been bursting with leaves now stood bare and skeletal, while masses of dark green vines hung menacingly from their remains. But beyond the steady, oozing drip of the cloudy-white slime down their ropy lengths, the vines seemed utterly inanimate, suggesting nothing of their sinister, serpentine mobility.

If standing at the entrance to this accursed part of the woods was bad, here, totally surrounded by the green, swollen tangle was almost unbearable. Jungle Babe’s heart was hammering wildly, and she struggled to keep her breathing below a rapid, panicked pant. She moved tremulously, anxiety gripping her, even as the treacherous warmth in her body continued to grow.

“Ignore it,” she muttered fiercely to herself, “It’s not real. Stay focused, stay sharp. You won’t fail again. They won’t…take you…again…”

I’m not a slut.

“Do…do you see that?”

The tone of warning in Anna’s voice jarred her out of her thoughts, and Jungle Babe looked to where the young woman was pointing. What she saw made her nearly groan. Ahead of them, spilling between the ruined, gnarled tree roots in pale, ponderous rivulets, was a wispy carpet of fog.

Fingers of mist curled up from the forest floor, twisting languidly in the air as if beckoning them deeper into the Beast’s nightmare domain.

“Stay close.” Jungle Babe ordered tersely, reaching for Anna’s arm. “We’ll have to move quickly.”

They had no choice. There was no other way to the hills at the center of the corruption. She only prayed that the herbs Samuelson had given them would continue to provide protection from the most debilitating effects of the swirling miasma. How long before it wore off? Days? Hours?

Jungle Babe didn’t want to find out.

Still painfully focused on the coiled, oozing vines, Jungle Babe and Anna pressed on. The mist lapped hungrily at their knees. As much as possible, Dana tried to steer them around the clusters of withered trunks, avoiding passing beneath the tangled masses as best they could. Thankfully, they had not seen so much as a single, wind-whipped rustle from the flaccid vines, a fact that filled her with both relief and inescapable dread.

They’re luring us in, she thought dismally. They’re trying to lull us into a false sense of security. They’ll allow us to get just deep enough to where escape is impossible…and then they’ll all come alive.

The notion should have made her panic, but beneath the real sense of fear was a thread of lurid anticipation, and she could not deny her body’s reflexive response. Her nipples were rock hard, jutting insistently against the cups of her bra, and her pussy had started to tingle distractingly. The mist had thickened as they walked, and now licked eagerly against her bare legs. Jungle Babe felt the flush on her cheeks, and the cloying, unnatural calm that threatened to dull her focus.

Thankfully, the leaden, enfeebling lethargy that had so crippled her before seemed once again to be held at bay by whatever protective properties the herbs had bestowed upon her, but it was cold comfort; it just meant that they could try to run, try to fight…before they were taken anyway.

Stop it, she admonished herself angrily, don’t think like that.

“Anna, how are you holding up,” Dana whispered, desperate to get her mind focused on something—anything—other than the creeping hopelessness gnawing at her resolve. When her companion didn’t answer right away, Dana turned her head, asking again, “Anna, are you—”

Then Jungle Babe saw, and she felt her heart sink.

Anna was a few paces behind her, less walking than stumbling in the path Dana had tread. Her pretty eyes were half-lidded, glassy. Blossoms of intense red colored her cheeks, but the rest of her seemed painfully pale. Tiny drops of perspiration beaded on her forehead, and she seemed to be panting from the exertion of keeping up. Jungle Babe muttered a curse under her breath, and rushed to the young woman’s side. She got there just in time to catch her as her foot suddenly caught on some uneven ground, her reflexes too dulled to respond in time.

“Anna!” Dana said, alarmed, as she eased the young woman to kneel on the mossy ground. “Anna, I’m right here, talk to me.”

Her eyes blinked heavily, and moved agonizingly slowly to focus on Jungle Babe’s fraught features. The girl’s hands were braced on Dana’s shoulders, trembling. Dana could feel the feverish heat radiating from her skin.

The girl was in trouble. Big trouble.

“D-dana…” she breathed, “I’m…I’m feeling…weird again…”

“I know, I know hon,” she said, trying to soothe her, “We have to keep moving. I know it’s awful, but—”

“No…not awful,” the brunette sighed, leaning her head into the soft hollow of the taller blonde’s neck. “It feels…I feel…nice…”

Jungle Babe felt a chill run through her. What was she saying? What—

Just then, she felt Anna’s hands move against her arms, searching, grasping. The young woman sighed breathily, nuzzling closer. Dana could feel her feverish temperature through her clothes, pressing against her bare skin. The sensation of the girl’s panting exhalations against her collarbone was making her skin woefully, thrillingly tingle.

“Anna, please, we have to get up…” Dana pleaded, trying to help the girl to her feet, but the young brunette was either incapable or unwilling to comply. Her arms wrapped around Jungle Babe’s back, hands roving over the smooth curves and toned muscles in open admiration. Her parted lips brushed against Dana’s upper chest, making her shiver.

“You have such a beautiful back,” Anna whispered, “I’ve been staring at it…at you…I—I can’t help myself…”

Her hands began to slide down Jungle Babe’s back, her caresses growing stronger, more brazen. She had the blonde heroine hugged in a warm embrace, pinning her arms against her torso. The sensation of the young woman’s soft body pressing against her, the way her sweater felt against the exposed upper curves of her breasts, was wicked, wrong, and horribly enticing. Despite herself, Dana felt her grip on the insidious arousal simmering inside her beginning to slip. She struggled ineffectually in the smaller girl’s embrace, desperate to get away, but at the same time reluctant to force too hard and hurt her accidentally.

“Let me go. Anna, please, let me go, get a hold of yourself…!” she pleaded, trying to rise, but Anna only tightened her grip. Dana felt her hands reach the small of her back, hot and pressing, and a heady sigh slipped unwillingly from her lips. She could feel the flush on her own cheeks, intense and warm.

She was getting dizzy. Anna was murmuring quiet nonsense against her chest, easily holding on to the blonde heroine despite their vastly different strengths, but Jungle Babe was having trouble mustering any of her innate physicality. Anna’s hands, her closeness…it was so…

Just then, Anna’s hands crossed over the slim leather band holding up her loincloth, and then Jungle Babe felt their feverish touch on the smooth, naked skin of her ass.

“MMm…” Anna moaned, even as Jungle Babe uttered a salacious gasp, “Oh Dana…I’m sorry…I just can’t…stop…”

Far from it, Anna’s hands grabbed hold of Dana’s firm ass and began to caress and squeeze, digging into the yielding flesh with unabashed hunger. Jungle Babe squirmed, trying vainly to escape, but there was no getting away from Anna’s fingers, her lips…

Oh god, her lips.

“Anna…please don’t…stop!” Dana begged, her voice wavering. The brunette was nuzzling against her chest, dotting the soft upper slopes of Jungle Babe’s generous tits with light, brushing kisses. The heat rising in her body was getting harder to fight, harder to ignore. She couldn’t tell if the movement in her hips was to try and get away from Anna, or to press her tingling backside harder into the girl’s groping hands. Then she felt the first tentative touch of the brunette’s small, wet tongue against her skin, and she let out a shuddering moan.

This is wrong, her mind shouted fitfully. She’s out of her mind. You can’t let this get out of hand; you have to stay in control. You have to be the strong one.

Oh god though, it was so hard. Jungle Babe closed her eyes, choking back a pained whimper. Anna was planting soft, moaning kisses against her chest, and her hands were kneading Jungle Babe’s perfect ass with surprising skill. She could feel the wetness starting to flow in her too-eager pussy, and wild, wicked fantasies were dancing through her mind. The young woman in front of her was so…cute. Sweet. Innocent. She deserved to be loved and loved well; she should be lain back, her clothes peeled off one piece at a time, until they were both too hot and wet to hold back any—

She shook her head hard. Don’t think like that. Don’t. It’s Anna. You have to help her.

She forced her trembling hands up between them, and nearly lost what little resolve she could muster when she accidentally brushed against the girl’s sweater-covered breasts. Ignore it, she thought as sternly as she could, do the right thing.

Before her wits totally left her, Dana managed to grab hold of Anna’s shoulders, and pushed her away.

The girl uttered a surprised cry, blinking at Dana in a mixture of hurt and confusion. They were both panting, and Dana’s hands shook where they held the brunette’s shoulders at arm’s length. She met Anna’s gleaming eyes.

“We mustn’t do this,” she explained, as firmly as she could, “This isn’t you. It isn’t real. You’re being manipulated into feeling these things. I need you to focus, Anna. You have to push past it.”

Thankfully, something in her words seemed to be sinking in, because gradually the light of awareness was coming back into Anna’s dazed eyes. She swallowed hard, and nodded, before hurriedly glancing away. “I’m…I’m sorry. Oh god, what was I thinking…I’m sorry…”

“It’s ok,” Dana reassured her, “I know you’re doing your best. We have just a little further to go, so let’s keep—”

“God that was disappointing.”

Jungle Babe whirled around at the sudden, strange voice. She backed up, instinctively shielding Anna, as her eyes darted across the forest searching for its source. “Who are you?” she demanded, “Show yourself!”

“Up here, sexy,” came the tittering response, from somewhere above them. Jungle Babe looked up, and gaped when her eyes finally fell upon the owner of that malicious, silverly laugh.

A woman, or at least something that seemed to be a woman, was sitting casually on a twisted branch two dozen feet up. She was marked by what appeared to be reddish brown fur that covered her arms and legs like long boots and gloves. Her shapely torso was scandalously bare, showing off a set of perfectly perky tits and a long, slender torso. Her red hair framed a pretty face that might have been disarmingly sweet, but for the pair of red, deviously glimmering eyes set therein. Long, elfin ears occasionally twitched in playful curiosity. Behind her, absently stretched, was a pair of long, bat-like wings.

Jungle Babe dropped into a combat stance, glaring at the strange woman. “What the hell are you?”

Angie just giggled, ignoring the question. “For a second there I really thought you two were going to get it on. You had me all excited, I was just settling in for some hot voyeuristic self-stimulation up here. I have a perfect view.”

“Cut the crap!” Jungle Babe yelled, “I’m only going to ask one more time: who are you, and what the hell do you want?”

Angie pursed her lips, cocking her head at the glowering blonde. “Man, you’re no fun. Who knew such a hottie could be so damn frigid.” She sighed, then flapped to her feet. “The name’s Angie. You happen to be in my Master’s forest, clearly with evil intentions. I thought I’d stop by and check you out. I’m sure glad I did.” She gave Dana a salacious wink.

Master? Jungle Babe’s eyes hardened. She should have guessed they’d run into more of the Beast’s strange creations. But the name…

Recognition flashed through her memory. She started, staring at Angie in mute shock. “Angie. You’re Angie Blake!”

The sound of her full name seemed to irritate the winged red-head. She brushed at her short red hair in mild annoyance. “That was…a long time ago,” she muttered, casting a dark glare at Jungle Babe. “I used to be like you; stupid, small, and weak.”

She flexed her wings. “I’m a lot stronger now. Better.”

Good lord, what had happened to her, Jungle Babe wondered in silent horror. Angie Blake had been the Beast’s second victim, taken weeks ago, and apparently turned into…this. Jungle Babe returned the glare. “Better? All I see is a girl too twisted to realize she’s been turned into a monster. You’re being used. Let me help you, it might not be too late.”

“And what the hell would you know about that?” Angie snapped, the flirtatious mask dropping to reveal her fanged, red-eyed snarl. “What the hell do you know about anything? You heroines are all alike; you talk a big game, but that’s all it is.”

Her wings flapped menacingly. “So how about we see if you can back it up?”

Before Dana could respond, Angie dove forward, hurtling towards them in instant freefall. Jungle Babe shoved Anna, shouting “Anna, get back!” A moment later, the werebat was upon them, swiping at the space they had occupied just a moment earlier with wickedly sharp talons. Her wings caught her fall, stopping her just before she hit the ground before gliding her back into an upward swoop. Dana’s dodge transitioned into a roll. She spun, following Angie’s movement, defensively crouched to anticipate her next attack.

She didn’t have to wait long. Angie arched through the air, spiraling tightly, before she charged Dana again. This time though, the statuesque blonde was ready for her. Rather than dodging the attack, she planted her feet, bracing for the impact. Angie hissed furiously, slashing at her with her claws, but Jungle Babe was faster. She deflected the strike with her forearm, and lashed out with trained precision. She struck the monstrous red-head twice, once across the face, and once in her side. Angie gasped in pain, sputtering, as she careened sideways from the blow. She crashed to the ground, rolling several feet before she pushed herself to her knees.

She glared at Jungle Babe, smiling sardonically. “Oh you bitch. I wasn’t expecting that. The mist should have turned you into a sleepy, horny little puddle by now. It looks like there’s some fight in you yet.”

Jungle Babe ignored the taunt. “You’re out of your league, kid. I’ve tussled with foes a lot stronger and meaner than you. Give up before you get hurt.”

Jungle Babe risked a momentary glance away from her quarry to check on Anna. The young woman had managed to maneuver herself away from the central conflict, edging back against the underbrush. She was holding her crossbow in trembling hands, staring at Angie in disbelief. For a brief moment they locked eyes, and Jungle Babe gave a short shake of her head. She wanted her to stay out of it; Anna was in no shape to try messing with this creature.

Angie rose to her feet, flexing her hand where she injured it in her fall. “I don’t think so. You might not be totally helpless, but I saw how you were reacting to that sweet little girl’s advances. You’re horny as hell. Lucky for you, I know just what to do about that.”

Jungle Babe shifted uneasily. She didn’t like the confident tone in Angie’s voice. She braced herself, prepared to dodge anything the bizarre chimera might throw at her. Angie tossed back a stray lock of hair, and turned to face Jungle Babe full on. The sultry bat was smirking.

“What the hell is she planning?” Dana frowned, “Why is she so calm?”

“Don’t worry, sexy,” Angie grinned. “You’re going to love this.”

The devilish red-head straightened, closing her eyes as she began to focus. For a long second, nothing seemed to be happening, but gradually Dana became increasingly aware of a strange, ambient drone in the air. It wasn’t so much that she heard or saw anything, but she could feel it. The air around her suddenly felt like it was charged, vibrant. She watched Angie uneasily. The hairs on the back of Jungle Babe’s neck were standing on end.

Suddenly, the bat opened her red eyes, and expanded her wings, displaying them proudly. Something in the air shifted, buffeting Dana like a wave. The red-head licked her crimson lips.

“Before I turn you into my mindless little sex toy,” Angie taunted, staring at Dana with her gleaming red eyes, “I want you to tell me your name.”

What was she planning? She had some nerve talking like that. Dana calculated the distance between them, and gauged that she was too far to get into melee range before Angie simply took off again. She had to get closer. Maybe if she distracted her, kept her talking…

“The name’s Jungle Babe,” she snapped. She took a step closer.

Angie raised an eyebrow, “Well, not much one for subtlety are we? That’s all right by me. Pretty soon, that hot little outfit of yours is going to be decorating my wall. I like my sluts naked. I might let you keep the jewelry. But that’s not the answer I wanted. I said…”

Jungle Babe stopped. The weird tinny in the air seemed to be escalating.

Angie leveled her stare at Jungle Babe, her voice firm, “…what is your name?”

The blonde amazon scoffed, stepping closer. “Didn’t you hear me the first time? I told you, my name’s…D…D-dana…”

She froze.

Angie’s lips curled back into a sinister, Cheshire smile. “Dana,” she said, as if tasting the name, “That’s hot. I think I’ll let you keep it. Good girl…Dana.”

Dana gasped, as a sudden tremor of…gratification…shot down her spine. It made her skin tingle, and sent a hot jolt of sensation coursing through her breasts and pussy. She staggered, stopping in mid-stride. Jungle Babe stared at the bat-woman in utter shock. What the hell had just happened? Why had she…why had she said her real name? What was that feeling? Suddenly the look on Angie’s face wasn’t just smug, but predatory. The winged red-head licked her lips.

“Now that the pleasantries are out of the way, we should get on with your training. I shall call you Dana. Or slave. Or slut. Whatever I want, really.” Angie leered. “And you…you will call me Mistress.”

“Not a fucking chance!” Jungle Babe yelled, and charged. She didn’t know what was going on, but this had to end, now. She clearly had the upper hand physically, she had to leverage that while she had the chance. She hadn’t quite closed the distance gap between them, but it would have to do. Her initial leap was staggeringly fast, and seemed to catch Angie by surprise. Good, she had to get to the bitch before she took wing.

Twenty feet had separated them to start, and in that one movement Jungle Babe cut that distance in half. She drew back her fist, dashing forward again. If she could keep Angie close, she could keep her from capitalizing on her mobility advantage. The plan seemed to be working. The bat hissed in alarm, forced to sidestep to dodge the blow aimed for her head, but Dana was hardly done. She landed and pivoted in a single, smooth motion, and swung her leg around after the retreating chimera. Angie brought her arm up to deflect the strike, but again, the difference in their strength was too great. She grimaced as the force of the blow knocked her back. Another blow followed, and another, too fast and too hard for the chimera to do anything but block or dodge. She drove her back, step by step, never letting her get more than a few feet away. Finally, the battered bat backed right up against a gnarled tree, and there was suddenly nowhere left to go.

“She’s all talk,” Jungle Babe thought, her confidence surging. “And that weird trick of hers is useless if all she can do is dodge!” But as she chased after the reeling Angie, and closed in to finish her off, she noticed a second too late that the look on Angie’s face wasn’t a grimace at all…but a viscious, triumphant grin.

“Now I’ve got you!” she hissed, just as Dana threw her punch. With a sudden flap of her wings to help propel her, Angie kicked off the tree trunk behind her, and vaulted right over a surprised Jungle Babe to land right behind her. Dana cursed, and spun to face her opponent, but Angie was a step ahead of her. She ducked beneath Dana’s counter swing, and drove her elbow into the amazon’s exposed midsection.

Jungle Babe gasped as the air was driven from her lungs, staggering back, and smashing into the tree. She coughed, clutching at her stomach, and caught sight of Angie just as the bat-woman’s eyes narrowed in concentration. Dana fought past the burning in her lungs, gearing up for the attack she was sure would follow. She was so focused on the red-head that she didn’t notice the shuddering movement above her.

And then it was too late.

“What—NO!” Dana cried, as two long, ropy tendrils dropped from the canopy overhead and lashed themselves around her arms. Before she could muster any force to resist, they yanked back with inhuman strength, slamming her against the tree. She felt them go taut, pulling her arms up over her head. A third tendril slapped wetly across her midsection, and coiled her to the tree. Two more snared each of her ankles, and pulled them wide until she was standing in a forced X. In a heartbeat, Jungle Babe was trapped. She cursed, struggling wildly, but the plants were much too strong.

She couldn’t get loose.

Angie straightened in front of her, panting from exertion. “You’re a fiesty one, I’ll give you that. You almost had me there. I might not have Carmen’s knack for controlling the vines, but I think this should suffice. What do you think?”

“You bitch!” Jungle Babe snarled, pulling ineffectually at the chords around her wrists. “Let me go!”

“Now now, no need for such language,” Angie tut-tutted, her breathing finally under control. “I’ve got such lovely plans for you! And to think, the Master was going to send his stuck-up little lioness to do the job.” She chuckled. “Oh, is Sandra going to be pissed that I beat her to the punch!”

She took a merry step toward the bound Jungle Babe, practically skipping. “Where oh where to begin—AH”!

She gasped as a shaft of hardened wood suddenly grazed her cheek, slicing flesh. Angie’s hand shot up to the wound, and came away with a thin streak of blood. She snarled, spinning her head. Anna held the crossbow in her hands, but they were shaking so badly she struggled to reload. She had been too far away, her shot had strayed…and now Angie knew what she was about.

“Oh no you don’t!” the crimson witch hissed, leaping into the air and landing beside the young woman. Anna cursed, gave up trying to reload the crossbow, and instead swung it like a bat at the monstrous femme fatale. Angie barely moved, her hand flew up and caught Anna’s wrist, stopping her in mid-swing. She narrowed her eyes cruelly at the stark-white brunette. “Little girl, the grown-ups are talking. Be a dear and sit the fuck DOWN.”

She wrenched the bow from Anna’s hands, and before the poor girl could utter more than a cry of protest, she smashed the butt of the weapon against the back of her head.

“ANNA!” Jungle Babe wailed, straining against the vines. Annaa choked out a pained gasp, and crumpled to the ground at Angie’s feet. Dana felt anger swell inside her, hammering in her chest. “YOU BITCH. Leave her out of this!”

Angie tossed the crossbow away derisively, and using her foot, rolled Anna onto her back. She was out cold, occasionally letting out a small whimper. Angie clicked her tongue. “She’s got spirit. And she’s cute.” She glanced mischievously at Jungle Babe. “I can see why you keep her around. I’ll bet she’s just…delectable.”

“You’re sick!” Dana growled, “When I get out of here, so help me, I’ll—”

“God, what is with you heroines? Always so dramatic. You’ll do no such thing. If you could break out of those vines, you would have done so already,” Angie preened, feeling very satisfied with herself. She gazed hungrily at the beautiful, bound woman in front of her, chewing her lip anxiously. “But please, do keep struggling. It makes your breasts move in the most amazing way.”

Jungle Babe glowered at her, reddening. Angie giggled.

“Don’t look at me like that. You’re going to enjoy this. I guarantee it,” she promised coolly. She stretched, arching her back, lewdly displaying her jutting tits for her helpless captive. “You know what? You’re a tad high-strung. We just need to get you to…relax…”

Once again, Dana felt that weird tremor in the air, and sensed more than heard an electric, vague whine. She shifted uncomfortably in her bonds, feeling a shiver run down her spine. She watched as the Beast’s sultry servant sauntered towards her. “What I need,” Jungle Babe said through gritted teeth, “is to introduce my fist to your face.”

“Just relax…” Angie breathed, her hips swaying with every step, “There’s nowhere to go. No point to fight. It’s just you and me now, baby. Save your strength. Take a deep breath. Relax…”

Something was wrong. Jungle Babe’s brow furrowed. Something…something felt…weird. She twisted uselessly against the tree. Every lilting word seemed to wash over her, flowing like rich, warm honey. To her utter disbelief, she DID feel herself slackening a little against the tree. Her arms were aching from the strain, and her muscles sighed even at the momentary relief as she stopped trying to pull loose. Angie’s words felt like they were echoing in her head; she shook it hard, trying to clear it. What was going on? Why was she feeling so foggy all of the sudden?

Angie saw the confusion playing across her prey’s pretty eyes, and smiled, drawing even closer. “Something wrong, honey? You don’t look so sure of yourself any more. But there’s no reason to worry. You can relax. Just listen to my voice. It’s not hard, is it? To just listen. To rest. Mmm…that’s it…”

Jungle Babe’s lips parted in mute confusion. The strange, high-pitched sensation was oscillating back and forth, ringing in her ears, in her head. Something in Angie’s tone was strangely…soothing. Dana continued to pull ineffectually against the vines, but the pauses between her bursts of activity were getting longer. Her eyes kept returning to the crimson beauty’s scandalously bare torso, to the sinuous sway of her hips as she slinked towards her. Ruby eyes bored into hers ravenously.

Jungle Babe didn’t realize it, but her stilted breathing had started to slow, growing even and deep.

Angie watched with sinister glee as the buxom heroine’s chest began to rhythmically rise and fall, slower and slower. She inched closer.

“That’s a good girl, Dana,” she breathed, “You like when I say your name, don’t you? I’ll be it feels really…nice. Dana…mmm…you’re so pretty…Dana…”

Jungle Babe gasped. Just as before, she felt a wicked shiver of delight course through her, igniting feelings and sensations she wished she could ignore. But standing there, trapped and immobile, the adrenaline in her system was slowly draining away. Its passing left her feeling drained, aching, and tired. She was suddenly aware of just how hot and heavy her breasts felt, of how dangerously sensitive her pussy was. The effects of the mist, of Anna’s kiss and embrace, were suddenly coming to the fore. She began to sag in her bonds, trembling, as each utterance of her name was accompanied by another twinge of liquid pleasure.

What was happening to her? Why was she feeling this way?

“S-stay back…” she said, hearing the growing desperation in her own voice, “Don’t…don’t come any closer…”

“You don’t mean that,” Angie whispered, “I’m not going to hurt you. No Dana, I’m going to make you feel good. So, so good…just relax…”

“N-no…stop it…” Jungle Babe whimpered, Angie’s words resonating in her head, in her nipples, in her clit. It was like she was being caressed on the inside. Her nipples were rock hard, brazenly tenting the fabric of her bra. Beneath her loincloth, horrible, wonderful things were happening to her pussy. She could feel her sex swelling, her clit starting to throb. Every long, shuddering breath seemed to draw away more of her strength, until she felt her legs sag beneath her, and only the grip of the vines overhead held her up.

And still Angie drew closer. She was now standing almost right in front of her helpless prey.

“Do you like what you see?” she said softly, catching Dana’s increasingly-distant gaze. She ran her hands up her body, cupping her breasts, pressing them together. She moaned, watching in satisfaction how the dazed blonde’s eyes fell to her rolling tits. “I like it when you watch me, Dana…I like it when you stare…”

“I’m not…I…” Jungle Babe protested weakly, even as her heavy eyes continued to watch as Angie continued to play with her tits. Her breasts looked so full, so impossibly soft, and the way they spilled out around her kneading hands was totally mesmerizing.

She couldn’t look away.

A current of pleasure made her sigh. Watching Angie made Angie feel good. And when Angie felt good…she felt good too…It felt good to listen…it felt good to relax…

No, wait…what…?

“Mmm…oh Dana…” Angie breathed, “I love touching myself for you. Do you like it? I think you do, baby. Why, look at your tits…your nipples are rock hard…”

The wicked seductress moved her hands to Jungle Babe’s chest. She began to trace her slender fingertips over the soft fabric of her bra, focusing on her turgid, prominent peaks. Dana sucked in a sharp, shuddering breath. Angie was in no hurry; she raked Jungle Babe’s covered nipples against the backs of her fingers, circling and stroking with the most subtle of pressure. The flicker of sweet, unbidden pleasure sparked a new surge of resistance in the stunned blonde. She pulled and twisted against the vines, trying to keep her breasts away from Angie’s questing fingers, but the smiling redhead was relentless. Again and again, her fingers chased down their prey, and soon the bound heroine’s struggles began to tire out.

“No! D-don’t…don’t do that…don’t touch my…my…” Jungle Babe whimpered, staring helplessly as Angie caught her nipples between her thumb and forefinger, and slowly began to twist. Angie smiled slyly as she coaxed a reluctant gasp of pleasure from the buxom blonde.

“Sensitive, aren’t we? I knew you would be. But if you liked that, you’re going to love…this…”

To Jungle Babe’s horror, the scarlet vixen’s hands slid along the sides of her tingling tits, snaking behind her back. A sharp tug later and she felt her bra come loose. Angie cooed in appreciation as Dana’s huge breasts instantly spilled out of the loosened cups, quivering enticingly. She let the bra slip away to fall to the ground between them, but her hands remained behind Dana’s back, caressing her with gentle insistence.

Angie pulled the dazed woman forward, and pressed her rock-hard nipples right against her own.

Jungle Babe let out a strangled gasp.

“Mmm….” Angie moaned, arching her back, dueling their turgid peaks against each other, “Oh Dana, you feel good…soooo good…Oooh…”

Dana panted, trying vainly to ignore the wild, erotic sensations searing through her. But the heat from Angie’s breasts, the undeniably pleasurable jolts as their nipples rubbed against each other, was too alluring to deny. Soon her pants turned to whines, and then to reluctant moans as the seductive assault continued. Angie watched her closely, bidding her time, waiting for the perfect moment when her blonde victim’s defenses were at their lowest…and then she struck.

She wrapped her arms around Dana’s back, pulling her into a tight, hot embrace. Their breasts crushed against each other, eliciting a ragged gasp from the bound heroine, and an instant later Dana felt Angie’s scarlet lips upon hers.

“MMmmphh!” Dana uttered in alarm, her eyes flying open. Angie’s hand slipped up her back and grabbed hold of the back of her head, holding it still, while she writhed her soft body against Dana’s own. Their breasts rolled and rubbed against each other, the sweet, searing friction punctuated by sudden jolts as their nipples blindly reconnected in the fray. Angie’s lips were insistent, irresistable…and unbelievably soft. Dana went rigid, pulling with her arms, her legs, struggling to get any traction at all against the grasping vines, but all to no avail. She was helpless. As the kiss wore on, as Angie’s breasts continued their insidious dance with her own, Dana’s panicked struggles began to slow, then to cease. Her wide, shocked eyes slowly grew dazed, sinking lower and lower as Angie’s soft, wet tongue began gently trying to slip between her lips. The heated flush on her cheeks was growing intolerable, magnified by the almost feverish body temperature of the hellish nymph pressed up against her.

Her muffled protests grew weaker still as their nipples brushed against one another, again and again, amidst the sensual roil of heated tit-flesh. When one particularly brutal impact wrenched a reluctant moan from Jungle Babe’s lips, Angie was ready. At the second she felt her prey’s lips inch apart, her long tongue slipped into the breach, and an instant later Dana let out a strangled groan as she was kissed full on. The wicked thing in her mouth was thick and strong, dominating her own and threatening to plunge down her throat. Instantly, the most torrid memories of feeling the tentacle vines plunder her mouth came surging back, eliciting a helpless, submissive groan from the overwhelmed heroine.

Then, Jungle Babe’s pretty green eyes irresistibly slipped shut.

Angie’s giggled as she felt her victim’s resistance slacken, felt her go limp in the vines as her kiss drained the fight right out of her. She allowed the erotic dance of their tongues to continue a moment longer, relishing the way Dana began absently sucking on the writhing member in her mouth, before she pulled away with a gasp. They were both panting when Angie kissed her way along Dana’s cheek to the bound blonde’s vulnerable ear. The sensation of her hot and humid breath against her sensitive lobe made Jungle Babe shiver.

“Oh baby, I could kiss you all night,” Angie breathed, pressing up against Dana for added emphasis. Jungle Babe mumbled something incoherent, it might have been an objection, but Angie didn’t care. She smiled, “I suppose it’s only fair that I let you in on my little secret. If you haven’t worked it out for yourself, apart from this amazing body, my Master also gifted me with a very unique trait.”

She brushed her lips against Dana’s ear, “My voice, Dana. I’m part bat now. I can speak in ranges that don’t even register to normal people. But what your mind can’t hear, your body does. I’ve been whispering all sorts of delightful, sinful things into the very pleasure center of your brain since our sordid little dance started, sweetie. I’m going to mash all of your hot buttons, maybe even invent a few new ones, until you’re nothing but a quivering, horny puddle; a sex-crazed little slut. My slut…”

And as Jungle Babe listened with dawning horror, she felt Angie bring her leg up between her spread legs to press a firm thigh against the hot, sticky strip of fabric covering her throbbing mound. “Nnnh! Nnn-no….don’t…!”

“I want you to melt for me…Dana…” Angie moaned, the syrupy sweetness of her voice positively obscene.

At the utterance of her name, Jungle Babe went rigid. At the same time, Angie pressed her thigh into Dana’s sex, grinding it against the achingly-rigid nub of her clit, and instantly the bound heroine flew into a climax. She cried out, arching against the tree, as pleasure blazed across her synapses, coursed up and down her spine. Wetness gushed against her captor’s slowly oscillating leg as her pussy spasmed in helpless ecstasy.

Her name. The bitch had twisted it into a trigger word. As much as she wanted to fight it, it was like there was a direct conduit from her ear right to her erect clit and weeping cunt, and Angie’s words, her voice, were like a current. The giggling redhead continued to writhe against her, whispering sweet nothing into her ear, exploring her neck, her cheek, with her long, thick tongue. And Dana couldn’t stop her; couldn’t stop herself. Once in a while, Angie would stop to whisper that horrid trigger once more in her ear…


…and everything would explode again.

“NNNoooo!” Jungle Babe screamed, her eyes rolling back in her head, “OOOOHhh! Oh don’t…Don’t make me come—ah…again…don’t…”

“Mmmm…what’s the matter honey?” Angie teased, “They’re just orgasms. Sweet, delicious orgasms. You can take them, can’t you? How many do you think you can stand before you start forgetting that you don’t want them? Before you start craving them? Loving them? Loving…me?”

Her hand slid into Jungle Babe’s panties, diving into her dripping sex. “Well? Dana…?”

But the only answer the sultry redhead got was a strangled moan as yet another orgasm ripped through her blonde captive. Her fingers found no resistance as they slipped into the hot, tight channel of her pussy, massaging it as it clenched around them in desperate, constricting waves. She pumped them in and out, groaning her desire, “Oh yes, come for me again. Again and again and again….Dana!”

“OOOOHHH!! OOH….Oh…NOooo!” Jungle Babe could only scream. Her heart pounded, the world around her slipping in and out of focus as her entire body was wracked by unstoppable bliss. She panted, her mind reeling. How many would it take? She didn’t know. Not many more. It was happening already. As her pleasure washed from one orgasm to the next, her movements against the tree were changing. She wasn’t pulling away from the vines anymore, but hanging from them. She no longer sought to avoid Angie’s evil attentions, but arched into them, mashing into her breasts, thrusting against her fingers.

She couldn’t…she couldn’t think…they were coming too fast. Faster now even, as Angie neared her own release, one hand working furiously between Jungle Babe’s legs while the other mirrored it between her own.

“Oh Dana…Dana…come with me…Dana!” the redhead cried as her own orgasm finally took her, while the panting, machine-gun commands sent Jungle Babe over the edge.

With a helpless, gasping scream, the blonde exploded one more time, sending fresh wetness coursing down her glistening thighs. “OOHHH! YEEEESSS!!!”

The overcome heroine’s body seized in the winged woman’s embrace, every muscle taut, before her mind finally shut down and she hung from the vines in total, blissful blackness. For a moment, Angie could hardly move. She sagged against the tree, against the blonde amazon she had so successfully defeated, simply relishing the sweet taste of her victory, and the delightful aftershocks of her own massive release. She licked parched lips, kissing her quarry on her slack, whimpering lips.

“Oh yes indeed…you and I are going to have so much fun together,” she giggled, before a soft, pained groan from behind drew her attention. She glanced over her shoulder, and saw Anna wrenchingly trying to push herself up off the ground. A fresh shiver of desire ran through Angie’s inhuman body as she fixed her glittering red eyes on the hapless young woman. She gave the unconscious Jungle Babe’s breast an affectionate squeeze. “I’ll be back in a second baby. I have a surprise for you. Don’t go anywhere.”

Giggling at her own cleverness, the bat slinked away from Dana’s limp form, stepping merrily over to where Anna had pushed herself to her knees. The dazed brunette glared at her through pained, slitted eyes. “What…what the hell did you do to her…you bitch!”

“Don’t worry about your friend back there,” Angie replied cooly, “She’s just taking a little nap. Non-stop orgasms will do that to a girl. She’s a strong one though; I don’t think that was quite enough to turn her into my obedient little slave, but she’s close. A few more little nudges is all it’s going to take.”

She smiled evilly at the pale, trembling Anna. “And that’s where you come in, honey. Now…what was your name again?”

Jungle Babe — In the Clutches of Cernunnos

Chapter 6: The Seeds of Submission

“You’re not getting away with this!” Anna growled, forcing her leaden limbs to crawl backwards, away from the smugly smiling chimera standing before her. The young brunette swallowed hard, desperately aware of how difficult it was to move even that much; her body felt weak, her arms and legs terribly heavy. Everything she did took effort, concentration, and she couldn’t seem to catch her breath. All around her, the forest floor was alive with the slow, languid tide of the luminescent green mist. It clung to her as she pushed along the soft ground, welcoming her with long, clutching fingers of wispy haze. There was an unnatural hunger there, the mist almost seeming to savor her youthful, nubile form as it lapped against her, matching the smoldering eagerness in Angie the Bat’s red, glimmering eyes as she followed Anna’s furtive movements with casual amusement.

Anna could feel her heart pounding in her chest, fear and panic churning inside her like a caged animal. Just beyond Angie she could see Dana’s limp form, hanging from the tendrils against the tree, and she knew she couldn’t let herself give in to terror. There was no one left but her; she had to think of a way out of this.

But her head…it felt like she was drunk. The blow to her head had left her groggy, making it hard to focus. Every breath was filled with the sweet, heady musk of the demonic fog. It was disorienting, dizzying. She could feel the hot flush on her cheeks, and was painfully aware of the sensation of her sweater shifting against her hypersensitive skin. Even the wrenching fear she felt was being twisted against her, for twined within the panic were thrills of sheer, unwanted excitement. It was perverse, and wrong; she was being stalked, hunted…why was her stomach fluttering in hopeless anticipation?

The woman (could she even be called that?) standing before her was a vision of malice and corruption; a lustful fever-dream brought to startling life. Jungle Babe had recognized her name as one of the Beast’s original victims, but she had been changed, transformed into a monstrous human-bat hybrid with a personality twisted to match. But despite the clear, unabashed evil glimmering in her bright, crimson eyes, Anna couldn’t help but find her absolutely striking. The brilliantly red hair, inhuman wings, and feral animalism only seemed to heighten the exotic beauty of her overemphasized feminine features. Every curve was perfect, every naked inch of her sublime; she was horrifying and breathtaking at the same time. Despite herself, Anna couldn’t deny the almost magnetic draw of her raw sexuality. The way she was looking at her, devouring her with her eyes…it made her chest tighten…

The young woman’s internal struggle was not lost to Angie’s eager observance. The redhead chewed her lip, drinking in the sight of Anna’s long legs, her wide, frightened eyes, and the promising curves her oversized sweater futilely tried to disguise. She could see the rosy blush on the girl’s features, and noted with quiet amusement how her gaze kept dancing from Angie’s red eyes to her bare, brazenly displayed torso. It made the bat’s skin tingle expectantly. With the mist quietly stoking the girl’s libido, she was clearly finding it impossible to ignore Angie’s more than generous endowments.

That gave her a wicked idea.

“And who exactly is going to stop me?” Angie whispered, slowly slinking to all fours before the startled Anna. She flexed her wings, folding them behind her back, and arched in a long stretch. She paused for effect, knowing that her breasts were trapped between her bracing arms, pressing them together, displaying them openly to the girl’s wide, staring eyes. She licked her lips, a cat closing in on its prey. “I think we both know how this is going to play out. I’m going to fuck you, darling…just like I fucked that sexy, stuck up bimbo over there…and there’s nothing you can do about it…”

“S-stay back,” Anna stammered, edging backwards, but Angie matched her movement for movement. The winged woman sauntered towards her, her slow crawl emphasizing the sway of her heavy, naked tits between her slender arms. Anna found her gaze hopelessly drawn to them, to the rock hard nipples, to the impossibly deep ravine of her cleavage. Her own breasts felt tightly, almost painfully constrained beneath her sweater. Angie kept her swaying tits right in Anna’s line of sight; they filled her vision, consumed her attention, and with each movement it felt like she was falling deeper and deeper into their soft, warm embrace…

The blush on her cheeks burned hotter still. It was so…so hard to look away…

She shook her head, banishing the torrid thoughts. No. No! She had to focus…had to escape…!

“Do you like what you see?” Angie said, her voice low, compelling. “It’s alright. I don’t mind if you stare. In fact, I like it. I like it a lot…”

Angie’s words flowed over Anna’s mind in soothing, gentle waves. The young woman lacked Jungle Babe’s experience and mental fortitude, and was unprepared for the effect of those lilting tones on her drugged, hazy consciousness. Almost immediately, Angie saw the girl’s features relax, her brow unfurrowing, and her lips parting in a soft, surprised gasp. Hazel eyes that had been fearfully fixed on Angie’s approach grew suddenly dazed, glassy, swiveling down helplessly to once again focus on the tantalizing sway of the redhead’s pale, creamy tits. Angie smiled, modulating her voice, zeroing in on the frequency that would speak directly to Anna’s innermost desires.

“That’s right, baby. Take a look. Take a nice, long look…don’t be shy…” She slinked toward the stunned brunette, crawling towards her with slow, deadly purpose. She made sure that every time she slipped her arms forward, she brushed against the sides of her generous bosoms, keeping them shifting, swaying, dancing in a slow, enticing rhythm before the hapless Anna’s rapt gaze.

Drugged by the mist, lulled by Angie’s sultry whispers, the poor girl was being hopelessly entranced. Her labored attempts to back away from Angie had slowed, growing halting, hesitant. She couldn’t seem to coordinate the movement of her arms and legs anymore; her shoulders quivered, and more and more frequently, Angie saw her slender thighs squeeze together in a quiet, useless attempt to quell the strange, increasingly urgent tremors issuing from her sex. It wouldn’t help at all of course; in fact, it was probably only making things worse. No matter; Angie knew just what the poor girl needed…all she had to do was get her out of those pesky clothes.

She advanced closer.

“No…stay back…don’t…don’t come any…c-closer…” Anna protested, but the conviction in her voice was fading. Her heavy eyes were focused totally on the slow, hypnotic sway of Angie’s breasts, and hadn’t blinked in a very long time. When they did, they stayed closed for a perilously long pause before struggling open again. Angie chuckled to herself, feeling her own sex dripping in anticipation.

“You don’t mean that,” she murmured, “The way you keep staring at my tits…it’s getting you hot, isn’t it? I’m turning you on…”

“No…no, I…I…” Anna whimpered, shaking her head in denial, but her eyes stayed fixed on Angie’s slinking approach. Angie pouted.

“I want you to touch them. I want you to press that pretty face of yours deep between them. They’re so warm…so soft…just like you’re feeling now, aren’t you? Sleepy. Hot. Watching my breasts is making you feel so…relaxed…” Angie dragged out the last word, hissing it, focusing her voice to send a shiver of pleasure dancing along Anna’s spine. The young woman drew in a sharp breath, her eyes fluttering.

“Oh! Oh…no…what—what’s happening…? What are you…doing?”

“Just relax…” Angie whispered, modulating again, focusing now on spreading a soothing, smothering heat through the trembling brunette’s body. “I’m not going to hurt you. Quite the contrary, I’m going to make you feel good. Sooooo good. Just keep staring, honey. Keep on watching my soft, warm tits. Coming closer and closer. Making you hotter and hotter. That’s a good girl…just watch…”

Anna shifted, almost squirming, as feeling she could not control, could barely understand, oozed through her receptive mind like rich, warm honey. Tendrils of mist had wormed their way beneath the hem of her sweater, licking along the smooth expanse of her belly, playing across the straining cups of her bra. Her skin erupted in goose bumps, her nipples stiffening achingly. Her head lolled, heavy eyes blinking, always falling back to the large, luscious breasts of her inhuman seductress. The forest seemed to be receding, teetering. She felt like she might collapse at any moment.

“I…I feel so strange…everything’s…everything’s spinning…” she moaned, unable to escape the pull of Angie’s sensual seduction.

“I know, honey. I’m here to help you. Just listen to my voice. Keep watching my tits. So warm. So soft. Pulling you in, deeper and deeper. Nothing else matters. Relax for me. That’s it. Let everything else just spin away…far, far away…”

The evil, winged temptress had reached Anna’s feet, and slowly began crawling her way atop the dazed brunette. Sharp, painted nails raked lightly along her ankles, her calves, trailing upward even as Angie moved her way closer. Soon, she thought gleefully, just a little more…

“Away…far…away…” Anna whispered, absently repeating Angie’s soft, soothing words. She sighed as she felt Angie’s questing fingers reach her thighs, where they began to run, up and down, dragging trails of sinful sensation over her tight gray leggings. The scent of the girl filled Angie’s senses, as heady and intoxicating as anything the mist could have inspired. She almost had her.

“What’s your name, sweet thing?” Angie breathed, voice thick with lust, “Tell me…”

At the same time, the wicked redhead let her fingers slip lower, caressing now along the girl’s sensitive inner thighs. The entranced brunette let out a shuddering gasp, her chest fluttering. “Aah…A-anna…” she whispered, blinking far too slowly. Reflexively, her long legs shifted beneath Angie’s delicate touch, sliding open…vulnerable…

“Anna,” Angie hissed, grinning triumphantly, “Such a sweet name. So pretty. So…innocent…” She smiled lasciviously down at the sleepy brunette. She slid forward, until the soft, heaving mounds of her breasts hung just in front of Anna’s glazed eyes. She could have the girl shaking in orgasm in mere seconds, could wrap her around the sound of her own name until the merest whisper of it would make her cream, but this one was so far gone already, it didn’t seem necessary.

No. This one wouldn’t even need it. This one, Angie noted with a shiver of glee, was already ripe for the taking.

She straddled Anna’s prone form, resting her curvaceous ass on the brunette’s legs, pinning her to the mossy ground. Her arms encircled her in a hungry embrace, pulling her forward, effortlessly bearing her weight as she wilted against her. Angie smiled, feeling the girl start to struggle ineffectually. But it was far too little, far too late.

“Close your eyes for me, Anna,” the evil redhead moaned, “Close your eyes as you fall into my tits…as you fall under my spell…”

With slow, irresistible force, Angie closed her arms around the struggling young woman, pulling her fully into her corrupting hold, and pressing her flushed, whimpering face into the deep, soft ravine of her breasts. She felt Anna tremble against her, felt the girl’s hot cheeks glide against the smooth, yielding curves of her tits, and felt the gasping exhalation of her moan deep against her chest. The poor girl’s hands clutched and clawed uselessly at Angie’s arms and back, but there was no strength there. A moment later, and she felt them sink heavily to the ground as her embrace drained the will right out of her.

“No…noo…oooh…” Anna’s muffled moan sent a shiver down Angie’s back. She ran her clawed fingers through the girl’s long, auburn hair, mewling victoriously as she felt the girl’s shuddering breathing deepen, felt her melting, until at last she was limp in her arms. She relaxed her hold, letting her slip away from the fleshy prison of her breasts, and saw with satisfaction that the young woman’s eyes were indeed blissfully, obediently shut.

She brushed aside a wayward lock of hair from the girl’s face. Anna’s eyes fluttered beneath heavy eyelids, her lips parting in a breathless sigh. “D-dana…h-help…” she whimpered, only Angie’s preternaturally potent hearing detecting the airy words. The redhead laughed.

“Still dreaming of your valiant heroine, I see? You must really have it bad for her. Not that I can blame you…” She glanced over her shoulder, taking in the delectable sight of the subdued Jungle Babe, still hanging in forced-orgasmic oblivion in the loving grip of the tentacle vines. As lovely as the young Anna was, the blonde amazon was truly the prize Angie was after. She wanted her jealously, wanted her all to herself. She’d make such a wonderful sex slave. Angie couldn’t wait to get her back to the temple, to lay her out on the expansive bed in her chambers, and make her fill the stone passageways with the desperate music of her total submission. The Master would be so proud of her.

But to do that, she had to finish stripping the haughty blonde of her ability to resist, to finish turning her from proud super heroine to wet, willing sex kitten. She looked down at the hypnotized brunette sagging in her embrace, and smiled in sinister glee. She bent her backwards, exposing her neck, her pale throat. Angie nuzzled against the length of naked flesh, tasting her with her long, wet tongue, trailing up until her pursed lips were against the entranced woman’s open, receptive ear.

“Listen to me, Anna,” she breathed, her probing tongue making the young woman moan helplessly, “Listen…and obey…”

* * *

Deep in the heart of the forest, buried under the rolling hills constructed with massive blocks of ancient, carved stone, the Temple of the Beast glowered like the dark, foreboding center of a tumorous granite lesion. From out carved edifices depicting the fanged, yawning maw of impossible creatures, the thick, corrupting mist poured into the world in ever-increasing throngs. Within the labyrinthine hallways decorated with intricate carvings, all regaling the monster-god who lorded over this domain with tales of lust and blood, heavy, cloven footfalls echoed menacingly.

The Beast strode through his domain, swirling the green miasma with each heavy step. He was nearing his destination. The emptiness and silence of the Temple was a constant reminder of how far his kingdom had fallen, and how much he had to rebuild. Sconces that should have been filled with honeyed candles remained empty and untended; the temple itself was sorely in need of repair. He used to command hordes of slavering sycophants, loyalists and cultists held in thrall to his inhuman power, but in the years he spent in ensorcelled slumber all of that had changed. The mortal men and women who had rightfully worshipped him had long since died off, ground to dust beneath the ever shifting wheel of time. He was the only constant. Immortal; as undying as the earth itself. He would rebuild. Already, his power over this wretched land was growing, his influence spreading. Soon enough, he would walk again among the cowering mortals, and reap from them the bounty he was due.

He arrived finally at his goal. The arched opening could have allowed three men to pass alongside each other was still dwarfed by his looming form. He bowed into the darkened chamber, felfire smoldering in his ember eyes. The room was dominated by an enormous bed, carved columns of winding serpents rising up at each corner to meld into the stone ceiling. Serpentine heads, wide, fanged mouths open as if to devour unseen prey, gaped hungrily down from the column at the wide mattress below.

Atop the bed, long limbs secured to the pillars by ornate golden chains, Miss Americana shifted in a fitful, restless sleep. The Beast gazed upon her perfect, naked body with undisguised lust, the length of his godhood swelling in reflexive desire. Her raven hair spilled out beneath her head, contrasting sharply against the pale, flawless tone of her skin. Her heavy, luscious breasts rose and fell with her every breath, practically begging to be touched. The chains that bound her where much too long to provide any real restraint, and delicate enough that at her normal strength, the raven-haired hero could have snapped them easily, but their purpose was not to bind her physically; they were a reminder of her new role, her new place as his personal slave. His influence ensured that her formidable physical abilities never could recover; he wanted her wet, weak, vulnerable.

He moved onto the mattress, hulking over her. With a hungry sneer, the Beast seized one of her massive tits in his monstrous hand, and gave it a possessive, knowing squeeze. A low groan slipped from her throat, her back arching in reflexive delight as he fondled her. Her eyes fluttered open, momentarily dazed, but then she saw the monster lurking over her, and she let out a startled cry.

“N-no!” she cried, her hands defensively moving to push against his chorded arms, “Stop! You monster, let me go!”

He chortled at her, fiery eyes turning into smirking slits as he continued to molest her delectable breast. “I see you’ve managed to awaken from the lovely little sex spell I put you under. Where do you find such resolve, pray tell?”

She glared at him balefully, blue eyes flashing. “You’ll never break me,” she swore, “I’ll never give in. Someday, I swear, you will pay for your crimes!”

“I find your persistence…amusing,” the Beast chuckled, “But your bravado rings hollow. Your spirit might yet resist, but your body…”

His clawed hand shifted, catching her betrayingly stiff nipple between his fingers, and cruelly started to twist. Miss Americana winced, sucking in a breath, but it was not pain that assaulted her; worse, pangs of flickering pleasure issued from her captive breast at the Beast’s methodical manipulation. He knew her too well, knew just how far to push her to elicit the maximal amount of sensation, the knife-edge where pleasure threatened to slip into pain. She shook her head, fiercely trying to deny him, but it was all she could do to stifle the gasp that wanted to escape her red lips.

“Your body knows who its true master is,” the Beast rumbled. He grabbed her narrow waist, forcing himself between her long, futilely flailing legs. He spread her apart, forcing her thighs to rest around his demanding hips. When she felt the long, hot column of his cock fall against her sex, she stiffened, eyes widening in alarm.

“No! No, not again…no…” she could only moan in protest. The Beast was in no hurry. He pulled her against him, letting the length of his wide, turgid member press against the bare, swollen lips of her pussy. The heat from his cock was breathtaking; she could feel him throbbing against her sex, sliding back and forth, even while the remainder of his prodigious length reared over her belly. Thick rivulets of semen ran down his column of flesh, glistening in the dim torchlight. Miss Americana felt herself becoming fascinated by the sight of his inhuman woman tamer, and wrenched her eyes away, screwing them shut. She knew what it could do to her, how just the sight of it could have her pussy drooling in anticipation. However futile it might be, she couldn’t give in to him…no matter how badly he made her desire it.

But with her eyes shut, she had nothing to focus on except for the sensation of him grinding against her sex, the masterful way he played with her tits. Every stroke dragged against the swollen nubbin of her clit, dominating her, owning her. All too soon, his grinding cock had her clitoris throbbing, and her belly trembling in with unwanted excitement. He could have taken her at any moment, but somehow the way he held back, taunting her with her weakness, made things infinitely worse. She couldn’t deny the wicked sensations his cock awoke in her, couldn’t help but grow wetter and wetter as the thick, evil fluid from his drooling cockhead lit her pussy on fire. She tossed her head, gasping, feeling herself spread obediently beneath his monstrous lust.

It was no use. Her body had grown accustomed to the hellish ecstasy only he could provide, and already she felt her arousal spiraling out of control. Her wetness glistened against the underside of his shaft, her labia swelling around him. The crushing pressure on her clit was making her head swim as he ground her into submission. When he leaned down to drag his inhumanly long tongue against her stiff, neglected nipple, Miss Americana couldn’t help but moan.

“Your body betrays you,” he hissed, feeling her quiver beneath him, “Your pussy aches for me. How easily you succumb. How quickly you submit. You think yourself a hero…”

He grabbed hold of her behind her knees, and bent her back until they were alongside her tits, spreading her totally. Her arms flailed uselessly above her head, finger clawing at the sheets. She couldn’t look at him. She couldn’t let him see the way he was making her feel. She felt him draw his hips back, the full length of him sliding against her rigid clit, and her hips bucked against him of their own accord.

“…but you’re just another weak, needy female…and only I have what you crave.”

Then she felt the massive head of his cock find the entrance of her gushing pussy, and mercilessly push in.

Miss Americana cried out as she opened for his cock. It should have been impossible, his size alone should have been too much for any woman to take, but his perverse power worked an evil magic over her helpless body. She felt only the unrelenting, helpless bliss of penetration as he his cock slid inside her, as he spread her more than any man ever had. He rocked his hips, driving in slowly, making her feel each and every inch of him as he filled her grasping cunt. At half his length, he had her panting. Just a few strokes deeper, and she was arching her back, thrusting her hips to meet him.

“OOoh…Oh don’t…stop…” she begged, shaking her head, “I can’t…my hips…I can’t stop…OOooh!”

The golden chains tinkled musically as she moved against him, a chorus to her reluctant, helpless cries. She couldn’t stop herself. The pleasure was too much, too irresistible. She thrust back against his movements, urging him deeper. Already, the paltry resistance she had managed to muster was draining away. She could feel her mind growing fuzzy, blank, as the pleasure he forced upon her filled it with primitive, submissive need.

She could feel the orgasm building inside her. He was nearly fully inside her now, and she knew he was intentionally holding back. He wanted her totally melted, totally desperate for the last few inches of him to send her careening into oblivion. He had released her knees, grabbing her instead by her curvy, hourglass hips, holding her still, fucking her faster, wrenching sweet sounds of helpless pleasure from her luscious, red lips.

She was going to come. Oh lord, it didn’t matter how hard she tried to resist, how fiercely she promised to deny him, it always ended the same. She choked back a sob, even as he drove her higher and higher onto a precipice of ecstasy. Her body only obeyed him now. It was coming. Oh god, she couldn’t stop. So thick. So deep. God,

“OOOOH!” Miss Americana cried, her eyes rolling back in her head, “Ssttooop! Don’t make me…don’t make me…AH?”

Suddenly, just as the massive orgasm would have crest, he pulled out of her. His cock slid away with a wet smack, landing atop her quivering stomach like a red, glistening serpent. She felt her pussy quake, desperately grasping for the cock that had just recently filled her so fully, but it was gone. Her body quivered in denied release, her eyes snapping open in mute confusion.

A cruel, sadistic laugh greeted her ears.

“As you wish,” the Beast chuckled, digging his fingers into the soft flesh of her ass. His cock spasmed atop her, thick precum practically gushing from his head to pool against her flushed skin. She was panting, struggling to catch her breath, her ears ringing from the orgasm that was even now receding into a dull simmer.

Miss Americana looked at him in utter shock, “W-what…? I-I don’t…”

He regarded her with a twisted, fanged smile. “You asked me to stop. I granted your wish.”

Before she could utter another response, a sinuous, female form darkened the doorway, and a moment later, a rasping, hissing voice reached her ears. “I have brought what you asked for, Master. The potion is ready…”

Miss Americana turned her head, her eyes widening in alarm as Carmen slithered into the room. Her female beauty was, like the other brides, magnified to the pinnacle of human potential, but the rest of her…

Her entire lower half was a long, winding serpent’s tail. It slithered along the ground, carrying her forward, while atop her head a nest of hissing vipers gazed at Miss Americana with red, unblinking eyes. In her hands, the inhuman concubine bore a wide, ornate bowl. She reached the bed, pouting lips curling in a sinister smile at the gaping heroine. The Beast released her hips, turning to face Carmen.

“Excellent. You know what to do,” he said, nodding at her.

Without a word, the half-serpent vixen slid to her knees, taking hold of her Master’s gooey cock in her soft, eager hands. She murmured loving adorations as she pulled him towards her, her eyes devouring him ravenously. She kissed the swollen head of his cock, a long, forked tongue sliding between her lips to lap at the fluid oozing from his tip. Before Miss America’s wide, staring eyes, Carmen paused to give her a conspiratory wink…before she opened her mouth, and took him inside her.

“Oh my god,” Miss Americana could only gape, as Carmen began to bob her head, sucking him in. Her hands worked along his throbbing shaft, moving with practiced ease. The Beast grunted approvingly, resting a hand amidst the writhing mass of serpents, silently urging her on.

Carmen didn’t need to be told what to do. She groaned around the thickness in her mouth, easily drawing him in deeper. Miss Americana could see her throat swell as his monstrous length drove into her, but Carmen didn’t seem troubled in the slightest. She mewled in delight, her amber eyes rolling back in her head, as she dutifully devoured her Master’s organ. On each retreat, Miss Americana could see the length of her forked tongue where it had spiraled around him, sliding in tight, hungry coils even as she sucked on him with wild abandon.

The Beast rocked his hips, his cock growing darker and thicker by the second. Miss Americana couldn’t look away from the monstrously erotic display as Carmen serviced him in ways no human woman possibly could. She was moving faster and faster, swallowing him, massaging him with her hands, her tongue, her throat. Finally, with a grimace, the Beast growled in warning, and Carmen immediately pulled away from him. She aimed his dripping cock at the waiting bowl, and not a second later, the Beast exploded. Thick jets of pearlescent cum erupted from his swollen cock, gushing into the bowl, flowing an obscene amount of fluid in a series of wild, ropy spasms. Carmen cooed, panting, showering his turgid length with wet kisses even as he continued to ejaculate into the waiting bowl.

Finally, just when Miss Americana was sure the container would spill over, the spasms stopped. Carmen moved her hands down his length, milking him till the last drop, before she captured his head in her mouth again to clean him off.

Once she was finished, Carmen picked up the bowl, and very carefully, presented it to her Master.

“What are you doing?” Miss Americana asked in alarm, “What…what’s going on?”

The Beast ignored her. He stepped off the bed, carrying the bowl of pearly semen, and moved to the ornate, carved headboard. There was a figure of a woman carved there, her arms up in silent supplication. The Beast set the bowl in her stone fingers, carefully sliding it until it slipped in place, and suddenly Miss Americana realized that it had been part of the sculpture all along. Before her disbelieving eyes, the Beast found a hidden catch in the serpentine column, and actuated it with a flick of a taloned finger.

There was a heavy sound as distant, ancient mechanisms slid into motion, and then the figure of the woman began to move. Her head tilted back, the statue cleverly carved to allow her arms and head to move with stunning realism. Her hands tilted the bowl back, and a stream of the thick, oozing mixture began pouring into her open, waiting mouth.

The Beast startled her with his voice. “You wished for me to stop, and so I did. I will spare you from the pleasures you so stubbornly refuse. I wonder though how long you’ll be able to maintain your ‘heroic’ composure…”

Suddenly, Miss Americana heard a hiss. From above her, crowing the four pillars of the bed, the serpent mouths of the stone snakes gaped down at her. From out their dark, cavernous mouths, a thick, green mist began to pour. Miss Americana’s eyes widened in terror.

“No!” she cried, twisting on the bed, but the gold chains offered just enough slack for her to pull at them ineffectually. “Let me go! What—what is this…?”

“’The Maiden’s Ordeal’,” Carmen hissed in explanation, sliding up against her Master. “Are you familiar with water torture, Miss Americana? As the bowl empties, more and more of the mist will pour down from the carvings. The Master’s semen is extremely potent. It can turn even the most stalwart female into a wild, begging slut. But you know this already…you’ve had him inside your mouth, in your cunt, enough times to know how terrible, how wonderful, it can make you feel.” She narrowed her shinning, amber eyes at her with sadistic glee, “It will fill you with lust, with desire so terrible nothing else will seem to matter. And yet, regardless of how hot or how intense your need becomes…you will know no release.”

Miss Americana’s eyes widened in horrific, dawning realization. “No…!”

“You denied the pleasure you were offered,” she continued with a sigh, “So now, you will face the consequences of your decision. I’ve measured those chains perfectly; not only will they keep you trapped beneath the mist, but they are short enough to prevent you from getting into any…mischief.”

She laughed. “With every hour that passes, your need will only grow. Even one with your marvelous reserves has a breaking point; we will see how long it takes before every last shred of your identity is burned away by the raging fires of your own lust. And in the end, when at last the Master takes you, the sheer intensity of the experience will wipe away any vestige of ‘Miss Americana’. You will be his. Ours. Completely.”

“Never!” Miss Americana shouted, pulling at the chains. Already, the first tendrils of mist had reached the bed, and were snaking across the silken sheets, drawn inexorably to her bare, naked flesh. She flinched, edging away from them, but there was nowhere to escape. Every moment, more and more of the corrupting fog hissed forth from the serpent heads above.

“You WILL beg for release,” Carmen promised her, as she and her Master made for the door. The snake-woman paused in the threshold, cocking her head back at the bound heroine. “That is…if you don’t lose your mind first.”

The last sound Miss Americana heard before the portal swung shut was the chorus of their inhuman laughter, and then there was only the sound of her rapid, panicked breathing, and the steady, mellifluous hiss from the snakes above.

* * *

A sound pierced to the depths of Jungle Babe’s subconscious, stirring her, jarring her back to reality. She started, for a moment not comprehending where she was, or what had happened, but in an instant all that came flooding back. Reflexively she thrashed against the tree, but the demonic vines at her wrists and ankles still held her fast. Oh god, how long had she been unconscious? What had happened?

Her eyes snapped wide. Where was Anna?

That’s when she heard the sound again; a gasping moan, sudden, intense, urgent. The sun had moved to hang low on the horizon, and the forest was shrouded in ever-lengthening shadows, so for a moment Dana had to search for the source of the noise, but find it she did, and the sight made her insides seize.

Not far from where she hung, sitting atop the stump of an old, fallen tree was that witch Angie, and atop her, slender legs spread in a reverse straddle on the vile woman’s lap, was Anna.

“No,” Jungle Babe groaned, her heart sinking, “Oh Anna. Oh no.”

The voice she’d heard, the sweet cry of helpless pleasure, had been hers. Anna sat with her back pressed against Angie’s chest, her legs hooked over the ravishing redhead’s open thighs. Her back was arched, her head resting on Angie’s shoulder, while her arms hung limply at her sides. The poor girl’s outfit was a ruined mess. Her sweater was gone, as was her bra. Her leggings were ripped to shreds, savagely removed from her hips and upper thighs, leaving her naked there as well.

If the condition of her clothing wasn’t bad enough, the things Angie was doing to her were worse still. The wicked seductress had one hand at the girl’s full, generous breasts, caressing, massaging, and manipulating them with knowing skill, while her other hand had slipped down, between the girl’s widely spread thighs. Delicate fingers worked a rhythmic assault on Anna’s vulnerable pussy, playing her like an instrument. The bat had her lips fastened on the girl’s slender throat, sucking and nibbling a series of red marks that stood out vividly against the paleness of her skin.

When Anna suddenly began to tremble, Angie’s fingers redoubled their sinister efforts, and a moment later the dim of the clearing was filled once more with the sweet cry of her sexual submission. Her hazel eyes fluttered, rolling back in her head, as the Angie dragged the orgasm on for as long as she could. When at last the pleasure seemed to break, Anna collapsed in the chimera’s dominating embrace, whimpering weakly.

Angie release her lips from Anna’s throat, pausing to lovingly lick along its long expanse, before she realized that Jungle Babe was watching them.

“Oh, Dana,” Angie cooed, grinning at her, “Awake at last I see?”

“YOU BITCH!” Jungle Babe growled, “What have you done?! Let her go! Let her go or so help me I’ll—”

“You’ll do…what?” Angie smirked. Both hands slid up, taking possession of Anna’s round, full breasts, and squeezing them brazenly. Dana felt impotent rage churning inside her, felt her jaw clench so hard it hurt. Angie just laughed. “That’s what I thought; you are absolutely powerless. So just relax, sweetie. I’ll get to you soon enough.”

She turned her head, brushing her lips against Anna’s ear, “Stand up, Anna.”

The brunette opened her eyes, but they remained distant, dreamy. With barely a murmur, she moved her trembling limbs, and rose to unsteady feet. Angie came up behind her, capturing her again in a loose embrace. Dana could barely stand the sight of it. She felt a thick knot rise in her throat. “Oh Anna. Snap out of it. What has she done to you?”

“While you were napping, Anna and I made ourselves…acquainted,” Angie said, brushing a hand appreciatively down the girl’s side. “She is young, and so very lovely, but she lacks your fortitude, your fighter’s spirit. She was easy prey for my charms.”

“Angie,” Dana seethed, “If you hurt her—”

“Hurt her?” Angie interrupted, feigning indignation, “I haven’t hurt her at all! Quite the opposite, really. I seduced her, placed her under my hot, sexy spell, and once I had her all sleepy and…receptive…I showed her just how wonderful another woman could make her feel…”

She slid her hand back between Anna’s creamy thighs, cupping her sex; Anna’s lips parted in a breathy sigh in response.

Angie’s crimson eyes bored into Dana’s own. “She was a very…apt…pupil. Let me demonstrate.”

Angie turned the girl’s head, and stared into her heavy, lidded eyes. “On your knees, slave,” she ordered, brushing Anna’s flushed cheek. The young woman moaned her assent, shivering as Angie’s words sent tremors of will-sapping pleasure down her spine, and slowly sank to the ground. Jungle Babe could hardly stand to watch; she felt like she’d taken a kick to the gut. She felt defeated, helpless…and worst of all, she felt like an utter failure. She felt her arms sag in the vines. There was nothing she could do.

She could only stare in silent despair as Anna slinked to the ground, her eyes closed, face upturned in quiet supplication. With a victorious glint in her eye, Angie entangled her long fingers in the girl’s auburn hair, and pulled her between her wide, spread thighs. Anna moaned loudly as the heady scent of Angie’s sex assaulted her senses, but then her lips were there, pressed against the redhead’s hot, swollen pussy, and the moans grew…wetter.

Angie gasped, smiling in pleasure, as Anna’s eager tongue found her clit. She caressed the girl’s hair, urging her to lick faster, deeper. Her helpless victim couldn’t help but comply; she reached around, embracing her mistress’ thighs and hips, and hungrily drank from her wet, dripping sex.

“Y-you see?” Angie said between pants, “Such a quick learner. She—AH!—she’s very, very good at this….MMmmm!” It seemed that the redhead’s praise was absolutely genuine, because in mere moments, Angie’s breathing grew rapid, ragged, as Anna’s tongue danced between her legs. Jungle Babe watched helplessly as Angie suddenly arched her back, mauling her own tits, as she went rigid.

“OOHH! Oh yes, oh you sweet thing, that’s right!” she moaned, “Just like that. Just like I taught you. Oh, you make me cum soooo gooood…mmm, oh, enough, enough!” She pushed Anna away, her hands quivering with the aftershocks of what had clearly been a sizeable orgasms. The young woman gasped as she was released, panting in the cool dusky air, her tongue slipping out to capture the juices glistening on her soft, parted lips. It took a moment for Angie to compose herself.

“She’s quite the little pussy-eater,” she giggled, relishing the hopeless, downcast look in Dana’s eyes, “I can’t believe you’ve never had her; if I had been you, I would have fucked this sweet little thing the minute I laid eyes on her.”

She knelt down beside Anna, and licked broadly at the fluid dripping from her chin. She looked at Jungle Babe with a mischievous grin. “Well…no time like the present, right? And why should I have all the fun? Anna…why don’t you show Dana over there just how much you’ve learned…?”

Jungle Babe started, her eyes widening in alarm. “What—no, no, please, you can’t—!”

“Oh, but I insist.” She grabbed Anna’s chin, turning her head so that she was gazing at Dana, eyes lidded, glassy. She brought her lips once more to the poor girl’s ear, and began to whisper. Jungle Babe couldn’t hear what she was saying, but she could see what effect it had. Anna sharply drew in a breath, her cheeks blushing brightly. Her dreamy eyes swiveled drunkenly in her head, until they fastened onto the mouthwatering sight of the blonde amazon’s naked body, and the smooth, bare lips of her exposed pussy.

“Yes…” she heard the young brunette sigh, “Oh yes…I will…I want her…yes…”

“Anna, Anna don’t,” Jungle Babe almost sobbed, as she watched the two rise to their feet. Angie gave Anna an encouraging tap on the rear, and urged her on.

“Go ahead, sweetie,” the wicked redhead said, “She’s all yours.”

Anna’s look was one of undisguised hunger. She began walking towards Dana, hips swaying, while a dazed, absent smile played on her lips. Jungle Babe twisted uselessly in her binds, helpless, as the young woman she had sought so fiercely to defend swayed towards her.

“It won’t be long now,” Angie chuckled quietly to herself, sitting back on the waiting stump to enjoy the show. “I’ve taught that girl every trick in the book. No matter how hard she tries to resist, that stuck up blonde is going to be cumming her brains out.”

And that, Angie knew, would be more than the busty amazon could take. She would break, completely and irreversibly. Then, she thought with a grin, they would both belong to her…

Jungle Babe — In the Clutches of Cernunnos

Chapter 7: Wildspeak

“Anna, please,” Jungle Babe pleaded, “Don’t do this. You have to wake up. Anna!”

But the bound blonde’s words had no effect. The hopelessly entranced young woman continued her approach, blissfully heedless of the peril they were both in. The only sounds she heard were the breathy, urgent whispers of her monstrous mistress murmuring in her head. Each syllable seemed like a honeyed caress, overwhelming her, smothering her will with decadent desire. Her lidded, hazel eyes roamed over Jungle Babe’s voluptuous body with undisguised hunger. The sight of her against the twisted tree, naked and beautiful, made Anna’s stomach flutter.

Angie’s words were so effective precisely because they had so fertile a bed to take root in. The wicked Bat had correctly surmised that the inexperienced young woman was harboring a powerful crush on the buxom heroine; hero worship, to be sure, and perhaps only tangentially sexual in Anna’s burgeoning awareness, but it had been simple enough to take and twist it into something infinitely more…lurid. The mists had done half the job for her already; all Angie had needed to do was take that raw, raging libido and point it in the right direction.

The red-head giggled triumphantly to herself, settling back to watch the festivities. A slender hand fell between her legs, absently stroking a slow, deliberate rhythm along the slick, swollen folds of her sex. Angie nibbled her lip, shivering as the pleasure tingled up her spine. She was getting so excited, she needed to forcibly restrain herself from plunging in completely. She wanted to enjoy this, to let her pleasure mirror the slow, inescapable build that her blonde captive was about to experience. They would dance along the treacherous edge of delicious climax together…for as long as Jungle Babe could resist Anna’s delightful attentions.

But from the look of the blonde’s pouting, swollen sex and rigidly erect nipples, Angie didn’t expect her to last very long at all.

Anna had reached Jungle Babe’s prone form, and was now standing mere inches away from her erstwhile protector. Angie held her breath.

“Anna…” Jungle Babe groaned, “Anna, don’t…”

But the young girl wasn’t listening. With a soft coo of delight, her soft hands reached up, and seized the flushed blonde’s jutting tits. Her fingers sank into their exquisite softness, exploring them, feeling their mouth-watering weight. Dana winced, shivering, as Anna’s hot palms pressed against her raging nipples, sending quivers of unwanted excitement coursing through her tits. She felt the heat surge on her cheeks. “S-stop,” she stammered, “Let me go. Don’t listen to her…don’t…”

She might as well have been speaking to the silent forest itself, her words did nothing to stop the young woman’s momentum. Indeed, the plaintive sound, the increasingly sharp breaths, only seemed to spur the mesmerized brunette on. She stared in fixated wonder at the way Dana’s breasts molded and shifted beneath her questing hands, lips parted in an awestruck sigh. Anna’s somnambulic movements were dazed and slightly disoriented, but remained devastatingly effective. Jungle Babe’s body still suffered from the aftereffects of Angie’s relentless, overwhelming assault; the cascade of almost non-stop orgasms had left her nerves practically simmering.

“Anna…s-stop…st…oh…” Dana whimpered helplessly, feeling the blood rush to her head, making the forest lurch dangerously around her. She shut her eyes, unable to watch the way the lovely brunette squeezed and caressed her treacherously sensitive tits. The moan that almost spilled past her lips took her completely by surprise. It was only barely contained behind furiously gritted teeth, but the look on Dana’s face gave it away all the same. Anna’s hands manipulated her breasts with almost reverent adoration, pleasuring the sensitive flesh until Jungle Babe was practically panting. When the young woman shifted her attention from the pliant mounds to their turgid peaks, trapping the throbbing nipples between coaxing fingers, Dana couldn’t help but arch her back in helpless response.

“You like it,” Anna smiled dreamily, gently twisting and tugging at the hot nubs of flesh, “I’m so glad…I want to make you feel good…”

The distant, sing-song lilt to her voice was utterly dismaying; the girl was completely embroiled in whatever sexy illusion Angie had crafted in her mind, her rationality and reason waylaid by sheer, uninhibited desire.

“I can’t—I can’t get through to her,” Dana thought dejectedly, trying vainly to ignore the way her pussy seemed to spasm all-too-pleasurably every time Anna pulled or tweaked her aching nipples. She had to focus, had to think. There had to be a way out of this. There absolutely had to be…because if there wasn’t…

But just then, she felt Anna shift her grip once more, encircling the base of one heaving breast before engulfing her stiff nipple in her soft, sucking mouth…and despite herself, Jungle Babe gasped, her green eyes fluttering. Oh god. Oh god, that felt…that felt way too good…oh…oh…no…

“Anna! Anna—don’t…don’t…” she stammered, trying desperately to wiggle away, but Anna would not be denied. She redoubled her efforts, squeezing one breast, massaging the other, while her mouth continued to lick and suck at the engorged tit. Jungle Babe’s mouth worked wordlessly, her vision suddenly dancing with stars, as the insistently wet sensation made her pussy flood. Anna released the captive nipple with a gasp, brushing her soft lips against it in a loving kiss, before she shifted to the other. This time, the gasp that left Dana’s throat couldn’t be contained. She strained in the binding tendrils, but her body was getting hotter, heavier, with every passing moment. Her breasts were thrumming, alive with sensation, as oblivious to the awful danger lurking just behind the seductive pleasure as poor Anna was.

Angie watched gleefully as Dana’s struggles began to weaken, as she began to sag against the gnarled tree. The conviction in her gaze was rapidly diminishing, growing distant, dazed, as Anna plied her breasts with sweet, insistent kisses. Slick fingers danced tiny circles against her rigid clit as she watched her obedient little sextoy move back and forth between Dana’s magnificent tits, moaning as she assaulted them with wild abandon. Jungle Babe struggled to resist, but before long Anna’s moans weren’t the only ones filling the clearing. Her nipples, and a generous amount of her pale breasts, were covered in glistening saliva, and throbbed visibly in the dwindling light. God, the pleasure must be almost excruciating, Angie thought with a shiver; and from the way Jungle Babe was clenching her thighs together, her hips twitching uncontrollably, it was evident the young minx was having a devastating effect on the hapless heroine.

The sinister redhead vocalized a swift, subliminal nudge, and Anna immediately stiffened, shuddering as the command was followed by a sweet, soothing rush of pleasure. Obediently, she released Jungle Babe’s tortured nipple from her sucking mouth, and with agonizing slowness, the young woman began to slide to her knees. Her hands traced the contours of Jungle Babe’s slender torso and waist, while her mouth continued to plant a trail of wet, hungry kisses as she descended. So fervent were the blonde’s attempts to deny Anna’s sensual attentions, that at first she didn’t realize what was happening. It was only when she felt Anna’s tongue slip into the hollow of her navel, and felt her nails rake along the supple curve of her ass, did her green eyes bolt open in shock.

“Wha—no! D-don’t—don’t…no!” she gasped raggedly, twisting uselessly against the tree and staring down at the descending brunette with wide, imploring eyes. Anna did not answer; she merely sighed contentedly, sinking lower, her lips dragging down the smooth curve of Dana’s lower abdomen, her fingers sinking into the tense flesh of her clenched thighs. Dana felt the first airy touch of Anna’s hot breath wash over the front of her bare sex, and quivered as goose bumps erupted all over her body.

Oh god, oh god no, Dana wailed, tears welling in her eyes even as her pulse began to race even faster. Her body was still hopelessly humming with the aftershocks of her multiple orgasms that, as much as she wanted to fight it, she was getting horribly, wickedly turned on. She felt a knot of anticipation twist almost painfully in her belly as Anna’s panting breaths made her pussy tingle. She refused to give in, was truthfully so terrified of how badly part of her WANTED to give in, that she gathered what was left of her reserves and forced her thighs together as hard as she could. The strain was momentous; she had barely any slack at all to work with, and she had so little strength…her legs began to tremble from the exertion almost instantly.

Anna moaned something unintelligible, it might have been a coaxing prod, but all Dana could feel was her insistent kisses, and the increasingly aggressive way her hands caressed and danced along the slick seam of her pale thighs. Her entranced assailant moaned, sagging against Dana’s legs, her eyes rolling back as the sweet, heady scent of Dana’s musk made her dizzy with lust.

“Please Dana,” Anna whispered, caressing Jungle Babe’s smooth thighs, resting her burning cheek against them. “Please, let me taste you. I can’t stand it any longer. Please. I’ll do a good job. I’ll make you feel nice. I—I’m so hot…please…”

Jungle Babe trembled against the tree, her muscles straining. She sobbed around the thickness sitting in her throat as Anna’s words, her sweet, desperate pleading, sent a shiver of unmistakable lust jolting through her pussy. God, the way she begged…it was awful, this sweet, innocent girl turned into a moaning, eager sexpot…and yet part of her thrilled to feel her kneeling at her feet, to feel the hot, humid whispers against her bare skin.

“She could be yours,” she heard a voice rasp in her mind, and recognized it instantly as Angie’s hellish purr. The redhead lounged atop the ancient stump, a knee drawn up, one hand idly toying with her slick sex while another worried a turgid nipple. She spoke to Dana using her strange vocal power, it felt like the words were coming from everywhere and nowhere at once. They filled Dana’s mind, thrummed along her spine. The sweet, harmonic caress made Jungle Babe’s eyes flutter. “She wants you; wants to taste you, worship you. She is smitten by your strength, by your beauty. She is young. Eager to learn, eager to please. Eager to be…dominated…”

Suddenly, an image swam into Dana’s increasingly clouded imagination, a scene that seemed simultaneously alien, yet unnervingly familiar. She saw the jungle, the dark, dense forests and its humid, rain-soaked leaves. She saw the ramshackle makings of a native village, coils of thick smoke rising from stakes topped with burning torches. The village was empty, but a steady, primitive drumbeat filled the air. Then she heard a cry, plaintive, feminine, come from the largest structure. Her vision swam, and suddenly she was inside, where the ground was covered in thick pelts, and a firepit cast mad shadows along the tanned skin walls. A woman lay across a makeshift bed, her body naked and glistening. Atop her, another woman straddled her trembling form. Platinum blonde hair pulled severely back to reveal fiery, predatory eyes that made Dana gasp in recognition.

It was her. She was staring at herself.

Jungle Babe arched her back, breasts shifting as her hips ground against the smooth belly of the woman beneath her. She watched as her double reached down, fiercely taking hold of the woman’s long, auburn hair, and forcing her head back. Dana’s mouth fell open as she saw Anna writhing beneath her double’s oppressive form, eyes wide and wet in the firelight. But along with the naked fearfulness in those hazel eyes was a hunger, a reverence, an almost worshipful gleam that bespoke of raging desire. She watched as her double slid her way up Anna’s naked body, pinning her arms to the bed with her knees, never releasing the girl’s hair from her commanding grasp. She heard Anna’s meek whimper, and her own throaty growl, as the girl’s face was pulled against the blonde’s dripping, descending pussy.

A moment later, and the hut was filled with the sound of her own ecstatic agony, and Anna’s dutiful, wet moans from between her widely spread legs.

Against the tree, Dana let out a deep, throaty groan, the fantastic image sending fingers of lust clawing down her spine. It was wrong, so terribly, terribly wrong…but God, did she want that? Part of her…part of her did…and badly. Angie was undoubtedly behind the hot little illusion’s conjuring, but it was her own deep, repressed desires she was calling up, and that’s why they resonated so powerfully, why they were so hard to deny.

“You want her too,” Angie grinned, watching as the buxom blonde head lolled in the grip of the wild, wicked fantasy. “Take her. Overpower her with your lust. Bend her to your will and enslave her to your desires. She will love you for it.”

“No…” Jungle Babe moaned, struggling to fight past the lurid images, “I…I can’t…I’m…I’m a…”

“A hero?” Angie taunted, licking at her slick fingers. “You’re a woman. A powerful, beautiful woman. You could have everything you want. Everyone you want. Starting with her.” The bat’s eyes gleamed, “Join us. Be our sister, our slut, our slave…and revel in what you truly desire.”

Jungle Babe didn’t want to listen, knew that her words were nothing but sweet, sweet poison…and yet she felt something inside her stirring. She shook her head, as much in affirmation to herself as it was in denial to Angie’s seductive whispers, but inside her uncertainty and doubt twisted and roiled. God, what if she was right? What if…what if this is really what she wanted…?

As if sensing her weakening resolve, Angie turned her attention to the figure kneeling at Dana’s feet. She issued a quiet command, and Anna immediately moaned her assent. Turning her head, she extended her soft tongue, and began to lick. Dana uttered a strangled cry as she felt Anna’s touch along the pressed seam of her thighs. The wet, hot caress started just above her knee, and was slowly, surely, working its way up, up her sodden skin. She panted, her legs trembling, still shaking her head in helpless denial.

“No…no…please…ohhh…” she whimpered, as Anna’s tongue laved against her flesh, her face pressing into the divide. Fingers slid between her pressed legs, rivulets of damning wetness aiding their slippery intrusion, and all at once she felt her legs starting to spread.

She tried to fight it, but the strength had left her. The torrid visions, the wicked promises, all had taken their toll on the bound heroine’s faltering will. She could not stop Anna’s hands from forcing her legs apart, couldn’t stop the young girl’s mouth and tongue as they rose, inch by inch, towards the pink, dripping lips of her engorged pussy. Dana’s eyes opened to stare in silent suspense, her lips open in a mute protest. Anna paused, hovering just in front of Jungle Babe’s soaked sex. She looked up at her savior, her face clouded by raw desire. She was still staring into Dana’s glazed eyes when she lowered her mouth…and began to lick.

“OH!” she gasped, head snapping back so hard her teeth clicked, “Oh, oh Anna…oooh…”

Stop, she wanted to say; stop, don’t touch me there…don’t lick me there…but all that left her parted lips was a deep, helpless moan. Anna’s tongue caressed along her swollen labia, easily parting them to lap at the thickly flowing essence spilling from her heated core. Jungle Babe’s pussy was alive with white-hot sensation, her clit throbbing in time to her racing heartbeat like a small, aching beacon. Anna’s mouth homed in on the rigid nubbin of flesh, capturing it between her lips, and sucked on it hungrily. The pleasure turned Dana’s body to jelly; she sank against the tree, all her strength seemingly melting out of her to flow into Anna’s hot, open mouth.

A ragged moan tore from her throat, her eyes rolling back, as the pleasure she’d tried to deny captured her in its raging currents. Her legs spread wider and wider, her tremulous hips reflexively thrusting to present more of her bare sex to Anna’s cunning mouth. The enspelled neophyte did not disappoint, mewling wetly into Dana’s dripping cunt as her tongue desperately tried to lick up the sweet juices spilling down her chin.

“Yes…yes, oh yes…give me more…I want more!” the young brunette moaned, swallowing greedily, her own hips rocking uncontrollably as the rich taste of Jungle Babe’s pussy made her own quake with lust. Above her, the panting heroine could scarcely breathe; every swipe of Anna’s tongue against her clit made her belly spasm, driving the air out of her lungs in ragged gasps. She was getting light-headed, growing dangerously unaware of anything but the sweet, toe-curling sensation of Anna’s mouth against her sex.

Oh god, she could feel the orgasm building, felt herself being tossed like a battered ship among waves of dark water. They kept rising, higher and higher, threatening to capsize her, to drown her in pleasure.

“It’s so good,” she moaned to herself, slowly losing to the sensual assault on her unprotected sex, “I have to stop…I have to…but—ah! It’s…it’s too…OOOooohh!”

She had never felt pleasure like this before. She felt powerless, totally overwhelmed; the vines held her fast. She could not escape. Anna knew just how to lick, just how to suck, to drive her right to the brink. If she came, she knew there’d be no turning back. Pleasure like this…she’d be addicted. There was no doubt. She’d want it, again and again; want to feel Anna’s soft tongue, her hot mouth…she’d make her do it over and over again. There was no way she’d be able to resist…

Once more, the image of her and Anna together in the dim, smoky hut swirled into view…but this time, Jungle Babe couldn’t tell who was the mistress…and who was the slave…

But even as her body raced towards that chasm of bliss, even as more thoughts of making love to the sweet girl between her legs raged unbidden in her beleaguered mind, part of her still desperately clung to hope, still desperately refused to give up.

“Help,” she called out blindly, not with her words, but with her thoughts. She switched on that part of her mind that formed a bridge between woman and wild, and lashed out as hard as she could. “Please, help!”

But the forest was silent; she felt no twinge of recognition, no hint of response. The animals had all fled, she remembered; the old wolf had said as much. Even the birds had moved on, escaping the vile corruption plaguing the woods. There could be no help, for there was nothing to provide it…

…then, all of a sudden, she felt…something…

“W-what…what is that…?” Dana whimpered, clinging to it, clawing her way back to lucidity for as long as she could. It was so hard…Anna’s mouth was so seductive, the pleasure so compelling…she wouldn’t last much longer. She forced through the sensation as much as she could, reaching out, searching again for that strange, almost alien sensation that had brushed against her mind. What in the hell was—

Then, she felt it again; a writhing, chaotic, almost mindless response to her silent probe. It splashed against her consciousness, viscous and obscene. Her mind was repelled, almost recoiling in revulsion, at the unnatural, palpably evil, wretchedness it had found. Jungle Babe didn’t understand what was happening, she’d never encountered anything like this before, not in all of her years and all the creatures she’d melded minds with. And then she heard the thing’s thoughts…and she knew.

The tentacles…she could hear them.


The litany of commands continued in a mad milieu, each one a curt, single phrase of uncompromising will. There was no mind there, she realized finally, only a vague representation of animal intellect that could hold and carry simple orders. It was only to be expected…the monstrous tentacles were plants twisted into blasphemous, primal life; it only made sense that their ‘mind’ was likewise perverse.

She gasped, the sudden intrusion of two long, slick fingers into the grasping channel of her sex nearly sending her completely over the edge. She moaned, arching her hips obediently against Anna’s hand, but at the last second she managed to force back the orgasmic tide and refocus once again on the alien intellect governing the tendrils holding her bound.

She didn’t know what she was doing…but she had to try.

“L-let me go…” she ordered, trying to muster as much force into the command as she could, but she felt her thoughts splash against the aberration like water against oil. The litany of commands continued unabated: “HOLD. BIND. TRAP. ENSARE.”

She groaned in mounting despair. It was no use. She didn’t know how to speak to them, didn’t know how to breach their thoughts. As quickly as the hope had dawned, it began to sink away. She was losing control. Her arms and legs could only tremble uselessly as Anna’s tongue circled her clitoris, moving faster and faster, while her slender fingers slid in and out of her tightening pussy. This time, Dana knew she wouldn’t be able to stop the orgasm…and after that…

Anna took her clit between her teeth, and gently began to flick it with her tongue.

“AAHH!” Dana cried, going taut, “OOH! Oh GOD, N-NO!”

The flash of pleasure pierced her concentration, broadcasting her impending defeat. She felt the wave of pleasure, the accompanying surge of lust, burst out of her. She felt it rush against the tendrils holding her arms…and this time, she felt them respond.


Jungle Babe froze. Could it be…could that be it…?

She forced her eyes open, forced them to focus on the evil seductress perched on the tree stump in the middle of the clearing. What had she said, when she’d enticed the tendrils to trap her? What…

“I don’t have Carmen’s knack for controlling the vines, but I think this should suffice,” Angie’s tittering taunt echoed in her ears.

Dana didn’t know whether it would work. It was impossibly risky, but it was her only hope. There were no alternatives, and she was out of time. Anna’s tongue had returned to her clit, pressing against it in wide, firm licks, while her fingers turned and twisted inside her, seeking out and caressing her most sensitive spots. The moan that she tore from Jungle Babe’s throat was sensual and deep, and it was clear that the heroine was at her limit. Anna wanted her to come so badly, wanted to make her feel better than she’d ever felt before. She would make her come—now—and then she’d know just how much she truly loved her…

“Dana, oh Dana, come for me, please, come…!” she moaned, pumping her fingers, sucking on her clit as hard as she could. It was too much for the panting Jungle Babe. She felt Anna redouble her attention, and then, finally, she felt the dam burst.

“OHHH! OOH GOD—OOH GOD YESSS!” she screamed, unable to fight it off any more. Her pussy clamped around Anna’s fingers, her hips straining, as every muscle in her body went completely taut. The orgasm that took her was one of the strongest she’d ever felt in her life. It burned through her, spreading inside her like a roaring tide.

The sweet sound of her submission filled the clearing, accompanied by Anna’s soft moans as it triggered her own desperately needed release. The young woman’s hands fell to her clenching pussy, her grateful cry muffled against Jungle Babe’s hot, glistening thigh. Atop the tree stump, Angie hissed, her back arching, as she plunged her fingers into her slick sex, her thumb strumming against her clit, joining with her two victims in delicious abandon.

“MMMmm…yesss!” she cried, wings outstretched to finally greet the orgasm she’d carefully been building. Her breath caught in sharp gasps as her hips spasmed uncontrollably against her hand, wetness soaking her fingers. The sweetness of the release was made all the more delectable by the surge of victory that came along with it. She’d done it. She’d won! Staring up at the shadowy canopy, Angie couldn’t help but laugh.

She rose shakily to her feet, licking absently at her shining fingers. Anna had collapsed into a small, twitching ball at Dana’s feet, while the latter hung limply in the vines, massive breasts heaving in panting exertion. The statuesque blonde seemed totally out of it, barely conscious. The orgasm had almost certainly done its work; her submission to it, her capitulation to her own deep, hidden desires, would have left her psyche in shambles. She’d be helpless now to resist Angie’s influence; she’d strip away every last vestige of the proud and fearless heroine until all that was left was a hot, horny, obedient mess.

Her own personal, big-breasted bimbo. The redheaded chimera giggled at the thought.

She sauntered towards her new toy, red eyes burning into Dana’s dazed, dreamy eyes. She reached the bound heroine, pressing up against her heated torso with an appreciative purr. Her skin was flushed, feverish, and felt so perfectly soft against her own. Angie imagined what it would be like to awaken in her bed, feeling those perfect tits pressing against her beneath the silken sheets, and shuddered. Oh yes. Oh fuck yes.

She traced a sharp nail gently along Dana’s neck, hooking the finger beneath her chin to face her fully. She smirked, her other hand falling to take possession of one of Jungle Babe’s soft ass cheeks. “Did you like that, Dana?” she whispered, “It felt good, didn’t it?”

“Y-yes…” came the meek, subdued response. Jungle Babe could hardly meet her eyes. “It…it felt…good…’

“You want more, don’t you?” the bat sneered, taking hold now of her victim’s pliant breast.

“M…more?” For a moment, confusion seemed to play across Dana’s flushed features, but then realization, acceptance, dawned in her widening eyes, “Yes…yes…please…I want more…!”

“And who do you belong to, gorgeous?” Angie asked, brushing her red lips against Dana’s parted mouth, entangling her fingers in the blonde’s flowing hair. “Tell me…”

Detecting hesitation in the battered heroine, Angie slid her leg between her parted thighs, and pressed it against her simmering cunt. Jungle Babe sighed, sagging against her. “MMmm! Y-you…I belong to you…”

“Yesss,” Angie hissed, grinding her leg a little faster. “Tell me what you want, slut. Tell me!”

Dana gasped as Angie’s leg rubbed small circles against her vulnerable pussy, sending shivers of pleasure to bolt up her belly. “AH! I—I want…I want…”

“Louder,” Angie commanded, feeling her melt, “Say it.”

“Oh, I want…you…” Dana stammered, whimpering in Angie’s ear.

Suddenly, Angie felt two slender arms wrap her in a soft embrace. She started in surprise, and a second later, Dana’s voice grew hard.

“…to have a taste of your own damned medicine!”

Before Angie could utter even a cry of shock, Jungle Babe, suddenly released from the vines, grabbed her tight. Caught totally unprepared, the winged chimera shrieked in alarm, but it was too late. With all her remaining strength, Jungle Babe kicked away from the gnarled tree, spinning them around, and heaved Angie back until the sputtering villianess crashed against the twisted plant.

She snarled in fury, teeth barred, “How DARE YOU! I’ll cut your throat! I’ll—w-what?! NO!”

Angie’s eyes went wide in disbelief, as all around her, long, ropy vines fell in a horrific cascade. Before she could react, the demonic tendrils snared her arms, her legs, twinning around her body in a slimy, possessive grip. She pulled and twisted, but it was no use. Even her unnatural strength was no match for the tentacles, and in mere seconds, she was constricted totally against the tree. She couldn’t believe it. Shock had robbed her of her voice. She stared in utter disbelief as Jungle Babe collapsed to her knees on the forest floor, panting, a pained expression on her face.

“H-how is this possible?!” Angie demanded, wings flailing uselessly. “How can you control the vines?! HOW!?”

Jungle Babe winced, goose bumps rising all over her body. She seemed to be wrestling with something in her mind. Angie felt the tentacles shift around her, saw more of them start to approach, dripping in pale, musky slime.

“Everything…everything has a language. Those things, they happen to understand just one: lust. I took everything you did, everything you made me feel…and gave it to them.”

At first, Angie didn’t understand what she was saying, but a second later, she felt something long and slick brush against the inside of her thigh. Her eyes went wide. “No. No, you can’t mean—NO!”

The tentacle poised beneath her rose up, and between the copious amount of slime gushing from its slitted head and Angie’s own over-eager pussy, it had no trouble at all slipping past her paltry resistance. The bound redhead let out a strangled gasp at the sudden intrusion, feeling the tentacle slowly beginning to move, to explore, feeling out its new victim. Almost immediately, a deep, unnatural warmth began to spread from her cunt, slowly creeping up her spine.

The tentacle slowly began to move inside her, filling her with its wickedly potent secretions. A shiver of unwanted yet undeniable pleasure raced through her, followed by a wave of intense and cloying dizziness. Angie groaned, struggling uselessly, as the tentacle violated her vulnerable sex. Her heart pounded, her mind raced. She struggled to focus her thoughts, to order the sinuous appendages to release her.

But the tendrils gave her no chance to do so. As if they could sense her attempts at resistance, the tentacle in her pussy began moving faster, pistoning out of her in longer and longer strokes. A second, thinner member found her exposed clitoris, and began grinding its spongy body against it. Angie shuddered, shaking her head in desperate denial, but it was no use. Every time she started formulating the psychic command to the vines, a fresh assault on her increasingly-sensitive pussy sent the thought collapsing to the ground. A hot flush had crept up her cheeks, her nipple growing treacherously hard. The tentacle in her cunt continued to stroke inside her, unhurried, relentless. Despite herself, a helpless moan slipped past her crimson lips, and her eyes shot open in wide desperation. She looked to Jungle Babe, pleading.

“Please—please, make it stop! Make it…ooh…!”

Dana’s expression hardly seemed recognizable; a dark, hungry look had crept into her eyes as she watched the tentacles snare Angie in their vile affections. “If you want them to stop, stop them yourself. You CAN control them, can’t you? Or perhaps…you’re starting to enjoy it?”

Horror swept across Agnie’s face, even as a devious, intoxicating heat continued to creep across her body. She wanted to curse the blonde bitch out, to scream in indignation, but she couldn’t seem to find her voice. She groaned, her vision blurring. Her eyes suddenly felt so heavy…so tired. She was getting so…dizzy…

The tentacle in her pussy moved with sinister purpose, methodically sliding in and out of her in long, deep strokes. It seemed to know just how hard and deep she liked to be fucked. It ignored Angie’s increasingly incoherent commands, and soon, it had the unearthly beauty panting in time to its penetrating strokes. Her scarlet eyes were half-lidded, dazed, as the most awful, wonderful sensations began to overtake her struggles. When two slick tendrils moved to coil wetly around her swinging breasts, it wasn’t a cry of alarm that escaped Angie’s lips, but a low, slutty moan.

“Oohh…I…I can’t…I can’t th-think…can’t…move….!” she whimpered, wilting in the tentacles’ embrace. “It’s filling me up…fucking me…so…AAahh! Oh, oh god, ooohhh!”

Jungle Babe watched raptly, a tremor visibly sweeping across Angie’s body, as the tentacles forced the first orgasm past her sweetly whimpering lips. The bound redhead gave Dana one more wide, imploring look, and opened her mouth perhaps to beg once more for mercy, but a tentacle poised near her head had been waiting. As soon as she opened her mouth to speak, it lashed forward, forcing its way inside. The tentacle quivered, and a fresh jet of thick, salty cum-slime spilled over her tongue, gushing down her throat. Angie’s eyes went wide, her throat swallowing reflexively…and a second later, the intoxicating effects of the tentacle’s secretions rendered her completely helpless. Angie moaned around the appendage in her mouth, her red eyes rolling back as forced, monstrous desire overrode all her inhibitions. The tentacle shuddered a second time, and Jungle Babe watched as Angie’s throat worked obediently to swallow the jet of hot, sticky cum.

Whatever fight was left in the chimera was drowned by the deluge of the demonic seed. Angie’s eyes slid shut, her struggles ceasing, and a soft, eager moan slipping out around the shaft between her lips. The tentacle between her legs continued to fuck her, the ones about her breasts caressing her with inhuman dexterity, but this time, her own hips shifted in her bindings, rocking against the penetrating strokes, urging the tentacles to fuck her harder…deeper…

They did not disappoint.

A shuddering wail announced Angie’s second orgasm, accompanied by the sight of the tentacle in her pussy exploding in time, filling her cunt, cum-slime spilling out around it where it pistoned in and out of her. It slowly stopped, falling away from her only to be replaced by another tentacle eager for its turn. It found no resistance as it took the other tendril’s place, filling her up once more. Indeed, if Angie had any inkling of protest left, she gave no sign, and soon her hips were rocking once more in time to meet the tentacle’s hellish fucking. If anything, her nipples looked even longer and harder than they’d been a moment before, her pants and moans growing louder and louder.

A rustling nearby roused Dana’s attention. The sound of the inhuman copulation had been enough to rouse Anna from her post-orgasmic daze. Dana saw the brunette struggle to her knees, wavering, gingerly cradling her head in her small, pale hands. She groaned, blinking heavy eyes.

“W-what…what happened…?” the young girl asked, looking around in abject confusion before settling on Dana’s nearby form. Her eyes widened in teary relief, “Oh! Dana, you got free—but…how? What—”

It was then that her attention was drawn to a pierced groan from the tree. Anna’s face went sheet-white, and she uttered a horrified cry, back-pedaling away on her hands and feet from the unspeakable display. Dana moved to her side, catching her shoulders, and pulled her close.

“Sshh, it’s ok, it’s alright now,” Dana said, turning Anna’s weeping eyes away from the horrendous sight, pulling her against her chest. She slipped her fingers into the girl’s hair, just holding her. She tried not to think about the way Anna’s choked whimpers against her bare skin made her break out in sensitive bumps.

Once more, the vision of their union in the dark, forbidden jungle village sprang to mind, and Jungle Babe had to suck in a sharp breath. Suddenly, she was acutely aware of how naked…how vulnerable…the young woman was. Her skin was delightfully smooth and warm beneath her fingers, her voice soft and sweet even through the tears. A hunger, alien and powerful, reared up inside her, made her pussy suddenly ache. The sensation lasted only a moment before Dana, in a flash of frightened realization, forced it back into smoldering retreat.

She froze, shaken. What the hell was that?

Slowly, she looked down at the young woman cradled against her, searching inside for any trace of the rampaging lust that had just flashed through her mind, but it was mercifully gone. Still, the trace of it remained, and it made her flush with alarm.

A sudden shifting of motion behind them reminded her that she had precious little time to spend dwelling on such matters. She turned back to the tree in time to see the vines quiver to unnatural life. Slowly, Jungle Babe watched as the tentacles began to pull their captured victim up into the tree, into the dark shadows above. If Angie even noticed what they were doing, it did not reflect in her struggles—if they could even be called that any more. The tentacles had shifted around her, forming a deep bower where the intoxicated temptress lay nestled. No longer were her arms and legs coiled in thick, restraining tendrils. Thinner, more delicate limbs had replaced them, lacing across her skin by the dozens where they slipped and moved, touching her in a hundred places at once. Heavier bindings were no longer necessary; the demon plant had Angie snared in a far more insidious kind of bondage.

The sultry redhead was lost in a fever of irresistible desire. Tentacles at her breasts pulled and teased, suckling at her furiously stiff nipples with mouth-like openings, pushing the soft mounds together around a thick tendril that sawed into the fleshy cavity between. Her hands were wrapped around glistening stalks riddled with pulsing veins, obediently servicing them even as her mouth sucked hungrily at the stem between her lips. Her knees were bent, her legs open wide to allow a frighteningly proportioned tentacle unfettered access to her dripping cunt. The sight of her brought back unwelcome memories to the staring Jungle Babe; it didn’t take much effort to mentally replace Angie’s writhing form with the image of her own. Was that what she’d looked like, totally subdued and seduced in the tentacles’ sinister grasp?

She should have been mortified, so why did part of her almost ache with…longing?

Anna’s voice startled her back to reality. “What’s going to happen to her?”

Jungle Babe swallowed hard, and decided to answer as truthfully as she could, “I really don’t know. These things…they only have one purpose, one goal…and that’s to fuck.”

They watched as Angie was pulled higher and higher into the trees. Waiting above, already poised and dripping, where uncountable other tendrils, bulbous heads trained on the slender, female morsel being drawn into their midst. The sight of them made Dana shudder. She wondered just how long a person, even an inhuman hybrid, could go before being plunged into senseless oblivion.

She didn’t want to wait to find out.

“Come on,” she whispered finally to Anna, nudging her up. “We can’t stay. If any more of the Beast’s concubines come by, we’ll be easy prey out in the open. Grab the book. Your crossbow, I’m afraid, is probably wrecked.”

Anna nodded silently, shakily rising to her feet. It was then that she seemed to recognize her own state of disheveled undress, and blushed furiously. “M-my clothes…! That bitch…she…”

Then, the memory of what had happened finally dawned on her in full. She spun away, unable to look Jungle Babe in the eye. “Oh god. Oh god, Dana, I’m sorry…I couldn’t—I couldn’t help myself, I—”

“Hey,” Jungle Babe said, taking hold of the girl’s shoulders, “Hey, it’s ok. You were being used. Angie was twisting your feelings, your thoughts.”

Anna seemed unconvinced. She glanced uncertainly at her friend, fidgeting. “I—I guess…but you don’t understand. The things she said…the things she did…she made me feel things about her, about you…”

She swallowed hard. “It…it wasn’t all…bad…” The confession made her wilt. “I’m so sorry. I had to tell you. It would have driven me nuts to keep that inside. I’m sorry. Please…don’t hate me…”

The only answer the girl got was the sensation of Dana’s arms wrapping around her, pulling her close. The spontaneity of the gesture caught Anna completely off-guard. She mouthed a wordless response, unable to form a sound.

“You know what?” Dana finally said, her voice low, “When we get out of this, you and I are going to sit down and talk this through. I don’t hate you, Anna. Don’t be silly.”

Before the brunette could utter a response, she felt Dana’s hands slide down her back, the caress loving, comforting…and not a little possessive. She couldn’t repress a shiver. She suddenly felt significantly warmer than she had just a moment before.

“I also have a confession,” the buxom blonde whispered, “I…I felt—feel, things about you, too.”

She released Anna long enough for the girl to be able to look up into her brilliantly green eyes. “R-really…?”

Then, she felt a hand behind her neck, gently urging her forward, while those emerald eyes fell towards her. A heartbeat later and she felt Dana’s lips claim hers in a warm, demanding kiss. Anna felt her heart leap into her throat, but did not resist, scarcely believing what was happening yet unable to deny the surge of simple joy the kiss inspired. She mewled softly, going limp in Dana’s arms, as the blonde subjected her to a kiss that turned her knees to jelly.

A long, breathless moment later and Dana pulled back, panting. She smiled. “Yes. Really.” She lowered her head, touching her brow to Anna’s forehead. “I don’t understand it fully myself. All the more reason for us to get through this, to win…because I really want to figure it out.”

Anna blushed, nodding. “I’d like that. I’d like that…very much…”

“Let’s get going. We aren’t far.” She found the remains of Anna’s clothing, her ruined sweater, strips of her leggings. She took hold of the fabric, and with a few sharp tugs, had fashioned a makeshift top and something to cover her bare loins. Her own costume wasn’t far, and in a moment the two were at least slightly more presentable. Anna had retrieved the book, and cradled it against her side.

The two gave a last look up at the shifting bower in the branches above. Movement in the dark hinted at the obscene tableau hidden mercifully from view, and the periodic gurgle of mind-melting, feminine bliss confirmed the rest. Anna shuddered.

“How long do you think she’ll be up there?”

Jungle Babe shook her head. “She’s going to be very busy for a long time. And I sincerely doubt anyone is coming with a posse of flame throwers to help her out.”

She found her bearings, and began to walk. Anna didn’t wait long to follow behind.

Jungle Babe — In the Clutches of Cernunnos

Chapter 8: Myst, part 1

Author’s Note: Special thanks to Sable Myst over at ultrawomanuniverse.blogspot.com for graciously letting me borrow her eponymous villainess for these chapters. She’s been a fantastic resource for this story, and I absolutely recommend that anyone who enjoys my writing check out her work. It’s just awesome. Also, I have to credit Hell of a Critic for the idea of the flashback. OK! Back to the debauchery!

* * *

Jungle Babe and Anna had been making decent progress; they had left the clearing with ample motivation to move as quickly as possible, and the forest had finally, mercifully begun to thin. They were approaching the outer edge of the hilly terrain making up the central spine of the Beast’s realm, and here the grotesque trees were giving way to rocky outcroppings and a gravelly soil. Without the oppressive omnipresence of those pale, twisted shapes laden with their web of flaccid vines, Jungle Babe had actually started feeling her spirits starting to rise. It would be far too easy to let the respite of finally escaping the hellish nightmare-scape of the corrupted woods lull them into a sense of false security though; they had to remain alert, ever-vigilant. They were entering the heart of the monster’s realm now, and there was no telling what horrors awaited them.

But just as she felt the spring re-enter her step and the fire of determination stoke itself brighter in her chest, there was a sudden rumbling in the skies above. Dark clouds had gathered overhead, and lightning flashed in the creases of the tumultuous roil. Dana felt the first few droplets splash in warning against her bare skin, surprisingly cold.

A moment later, and it really began to rain.

Jungle Babe sighed, closing her eyes and raising her face to greet the falling shower. She shivered a little as the breeze picked up, but welcomed the sensation of the cool water against her pale skin. Maybe it was just the exertion from pushing through the forest, or some lingering effect from her encounter with that bitch of a Bat, but she’d been feeling increasingly winded, her body almost feverish. The rain was almost soothing.

She was reminded of the countless times she’d experienced the same thing deep in her beloved jungles, where the heat and humidity could get so overwhelming that even breathing seemed an obstacle. But then the rains would come, and for a few precious moments she could enjoy feeling the world cleansing itself.

I could use that right about now, she thought ruefully to herself; a good downpour, a really solid soaking…if only to get the oily cling of the forest mist off her skin.

A little behind her, she heard Anna yelp in alarm, and looked back to see her trying to shield the ancient, leather-bound book she carried with her own hunched body. She frowned, feeling a twinge of regret. As much as she might enjoy it, there was no way they could stay exposed for long. For one, that book was about their only shot at victory. And secondly…

Dana looked at her young companion, and found herself almost…admiring how the last few hours had changed her so drastically. Without the large-ish sweater and leggings to mask it, Anna’s lithe form looked positively stunning. The girl certainly had a figure! But more than that though, Dana found herself feeling more and more outright respect for her tenacity. The things they had endured, and the awfulness she had seen firsthand, would have sent almost anyone else into a cowering ball, and yet this girl, as young and inexperienced as she was, seemed to thrive under duress.

Even now, with her rain-soaked hair falling into her eyes and plastering what little remained of her clothing to her body, she wasn’t preparing to bolt for cover. She was watching Dana, waiting for her to make a decision. Jungle Babe felt sure that if she insisted they press on, the young woman would agree without a single complaint.

Young, strong, and brave to a fault, Dana observed quietly; what more could she ask for?

“We need to find shelter,” Jungle Babe remarked, “Wait out the storm. With all these outcroppings, there ought to be someplace nearby.”

Anna nodded, and the two quickly made for the hilly rocks. At first, Dana feared that she was mistaken, that they were still too far from the larger range to find anything suitable and that they would be forced to retreat back into the trees, but after a few harried, wet moments, she heard Anna shout for her attention.

“Up there!” she said, gesturing up a hill close by. Jungle Babe followed her motions and saw the dark opening in the crags. They switched course, striding up the embankment towards the gap. The rain was coming down even harder now, making the steep slope trecherously slick, but they managed it with only a few brief slips. By the time they reached the summit and plunged into the opening, they were both soaked to the bone, and breathing hard.

The gap opened up into a small cave, maybe eight feet high and just a little over half that again at its widest point, but it was dry, and that was the most important thing. Anna stumbled inside, dropping the heavy book as she collapsed to her hands and knees, totally out of breath.

Jungle Babe fell to a knee beside her, placing a steadying hand on her shoulder. “You ok?”

“Um, yeah,” Anna gasped, smiling wanly, “I’m—I’m just not in shape like you are. God, that climb was a bitch.”

Dana found the girl’s spirit contagious. She chuckled, helping her to her knees. “You did great, and you were carrying that gigantic book. Lose the handicap and you might have beat me up here.” She nodded at the fallen volume, “Is that thing ok? Did the rain get to it?”

Anna crawled over, and gingerly examined the ancient leather text. After running her hands cautiously along the covers, spine, and unclasping the lock to flip through a few pages, she exhaled, clearly relieved. “It seems ok. A little damp, but it’s been preserved ridiculously well, and the clasp held it together tight enough that the water doesn’t seem to have done much to the pages.” She nodded, setting it back on the ground, “I’d like to review it a bit before we start off again. I need to make sure I understand the incantation Grandfather told us about.”

“And you think you can do it?” Dana asked, hoping her measured tone didn’t betray the uncertainty she felt. Anna didn’t answer right away; the girl’s face had become a silent mask.

“I…think so,” she said finally, her shoulders slumping. “I’ve been taught this stuff all my life. I’ve even managed a few of the simpler incantations. Nothing major, of course, but a few small spells; for good luck, to help a sick child, that sort of thing. I…um, I’ve never had to seal a demon away before…”

Seeing the self-doubt starting to worm its way into the poor girl’s resolve, Dana gently pulled her up by her shoulders, and looked her square in the eyes.

“You’re a hell of a lot stronger than you realize,” she said softly, “If there’s a way to do it, I am certain you’ll figure it out. I believe in you, Anna.”

The naked praise left the young woman speechless. She blinked, blushing furiously, and had to look away. “T-thanks. I’ll do my b-best.”

The wind was picking up outside, and even though the cave was partially protected from the gusts, the temperature was still dropping precipitously. Anna was starting to shiver, and Jungle Babe herself felt the cold starting to creep into her bones. She glanced around the cave; there was some underbrush that had been blown in over the years, but nothing substantial enough to build a fire with. Besides, it would be too risky; a flame could be seen for miles, and the last thing she wanted to do was to telegraph their position to anyone, or anything, roaming the area. They’d just have to make do without one.

“Come on, let’s get away from the entrance,” she said, ushering Anna further into the cave, “That wind is biting.”

They sat with their backs against the cool stones, listening to the wind howl, hearing the rain splatter against the rocks outside. Anna’s shivering was only getting worse, and Dana herself was starting to tremble. She rubbed her arm, but it didn’t help much. Her costume was like a heat sink, leeching the warmth from her, and Anna was wearing significantly more by comparison.

She cleared her throat, “Um…we ought to get out of these wet clothes. They’re doing us more harm than good at this point.”

Anna’s head snapped up, her eyes going wide. “W-what? I mean, um, are you s-s-sure?”

“’Fraid so,” she sighed, standing up. Trying to maintain her dignity, she turned around, and unfastened her sodden bra before slipping out of the rest of her costume. She wrung them out before laying them flat against the rocks. All the while, she was mindful of Anna’s gaze following her every movement, and felt again that spark of warmth she’d felt for the girl after their ordeal in the clearing. Knowing that Anna was watching her, that she was looking at her every curve, made her feel…excited, almost nervous.

God, get a hold of yourself, Dana, she frowned. Stay focused. You have a mission to worry about.

when she noticed Anna still hadn’t moved, Jungle Babe motioned for her to get up. “Come on, I’m not kidding. The last thing you want is for hypothermia to set in. If it makes you feel any better, I’ll turn around.” She did. “See?”

“I-I’m sorry,” Anna murmured sheepishly, slowly getting to her feet. “I know it’s s-s-silly, I’m just not u-used to being n-naked around other people. Even—even after…you know…all that…”

Dana felt for her embarrassment, but could only nod quietly in acknowledgement. She kept herself facing the stone wall while Anna disrobed, listening as the woman removed her makeshift top, and the remaining tatters of her leggings, before wringing them out just as Dana had done. She heard a brief shuffle of activity before Anna called out, “Ok, you can turn around now.”

Dana did, and saw her huddled back against the wall, knees to her chest, hugged close in a tight embrace. Her auburn hair was a mess, and spilled around her face wildly. She was blushing even more furiously than she had been a moment ago, if that was even possible. She seemed to be trying to focus on something—anything—other than the statuesque, blonde Amazon standing naked before her, but her eyes kept furtively darting back.

And if she was totally honest with herself, Dana felt a twinge of pride at how the girl was reacting. And for her part, Dana found herself appreciating Anna, too; the girl really was pretty cute.

Jungle Babe returned to her seat, sitting across the cave from Anna. They tried to pass the time with small talk, but given recent events, they soon both fell silent; wrestling with their own feelings seemed to be distracting enough, and the silence was actually kind of nice. Dana focused on her breathing, and concentrated on getting the blood flowing through her extremities. She’d learned a long time ago how she could best deal with a chill, and went about it in an absent-minded, almost mechanical way.

Anna, however, had no such experience to draw on. Despite losing her wet clothing, the poor girl still couldn’t seem to shake the shivers. Even curled into a ball, she was trembling quite terribly. She made an effort to keep her discomfort to herself, but pretty soon Dana couldn’t help but take notice. She looked at Anna with concern.

“Still can’t get warm?”

“It’s n-nothing,” she replied, trying to still the chatter in her teeth. “I just—I just can’t stop s-sh-shaking…”

Poor thing, the blonde heroine thought, she’s really trying to be stoic, but this is too hard for her. Well…maybe she could help.

“Come here a sec,” she said, rising to her feet and pulling a confused Anna over to her. “Ssh, hey, just relax. You just need to warm up some, and you’ll be ok.”

She stretched them out on the ground, positioning Anna so that she was between Dana and the cave wall, and pressing up lengthwise against the young woman’s back. She wrapped her arms around Anna’s torso, holding her arms to her chest, and felt the girl stiffen.

“Um…is this…are you sure this is ok…?”

“Just relax. I won’t bite,” she said, trying to reassure her. “Body heat is about the best I can do right now, since it isn’t safe to build a fire. Does…does this make you uncomfortable?”

“N-no!” Anna answered, just a little too hastily, “I-I mean, it’s fine, it’s…it’s kind of nice.”

That made Dana shiver, but not from the cold. She pulled Anna just a little closer. She closed her eyes a minute, just trying to breath, feeling the girl laying against her, smelling the light scent of her hair. She swallowed hard. God, why couldn’t they be someplace else? Anywhere but this wretched place?

They lay in silence like that for a while, just spooning in the dark. Presently Anna’s trembling began to subside, and she did start to relax, easing against Jungle Babe’s body and drawing from its heat. After a while, during which Dana actually started to doze, Anna’s voice brought her back to attention.

“Does…does the cold not bother you?”

Dana had to smile. She patted Anna’s arm sympathetically. “Don’t feel so bad. It’s something you learn to deal with, especially when you’re stuck in the jungle by yourself a lot.”

“I can’t imagine it gets very cold there,” Anna murmured thoughtfully. Behind her, she felt Jungle Babe suddenly shift, and sensed something was amiss. “Dana? Did…did I say something wrong…?”

“No, nothing like that,” Dana sighed, hugging her reassuringly. “I just…you reminded me of something that happened a long time ago. Actually, it was the first time I met Bren—I mean, Miss Americana…”

“Oh…?” Anna asked, the quiet curiosity clearly evident in her tone. Jungle Babe sighed, weighing the issue in her mind…the story wasn’t particularly pleasant, and she didn’t want to scare the girl needlessly. But they didn’t have much else to do, and the telling would help her stay awake.

“Well, it kind of happened like this,” she began, the memories coming easier than she thought they would, “A long time ago, maybe for the first time ever…winter came to the jungle.”

* * *

I guess it’s important for you to know that this happened early in my career; I hadn’t been ‘Jungle Babe’ for very long, and I had a lot to learn about the business of being a ‘super hero’. Even now, the terms just kind of sound odd to me; I am who I am, and I do what I do, not because I’m out to be a ‘hero’, but because I can’t imagine not doing it. It’s a compulsion, almost; a state of existence. I once listened to a psychologist lecture about how all so-called super heroes actually suffer from serious personality disorders; I don’t know about that, but looking back at some of the risks I took, I have to admit that, at the very least, I was unrealistically optimistic about things. But I was young, naive, and had more spunk than skill. That’s part of what got me in such trouble in the first place.

Much of my early years was spent exclusively in the South American jungles. It’s where I got my name; the local papers needed something catchy to describe the wild woman who was breaking up narcotics rings and shutting down whole companies for illegal environmental practices, and one of their more colorful columnists coined the name. Jungle Babe. You can imagine, at first I was utterly aghast; it’s not exactly the kind of thing that inspires fear in criminals, or that can rally the oppressed. I learned quickly though that, in the old, fearful, misogynistic circles of the world, it was often better to be completely underestimated than it was to be feared. Men who thought of me as little more than a sex object were seldom prepared for the absolute beating I delivered them, and I can’t say I didn’t take some satisfaction from their stupefied looks as this ‘babe’ decimated whole groups of armed, well-trained mercenaries.

I was on a roll. I had just finished linking a local politician with a massive underground trafficking ring, and I had enough evidence that even his connections in the media were unable to shove it under the rug. He was deposed, thrown in prison, and his entire operation shut down. I couldn’t conceive at the time that my victory would be so short lived; the area is a cesspool of corruption, and as soon as I decapitated one warlord, it was like two more sprang up in his place. Rivals would swoop in and carve up old territory, and pretty soon, the whole thing would start up again. It would take me years to realize that some fights are best won off the battlefield, but at the time I was driven to hound these men to extinction.

I had contacts, friends who I could trust, who fed me information about the goings-on in the criminal underworld. It was through one of these people that I first heard about the Senator’s wife.

Senator McGuiness was something of a local hero around the Empire City area at the time; a local police captain who made his name fighting the mob well before costumed crusaders became the norm, he was well-liked, respected, and more than anything, actually committed to making things better. He was particularly focused on the sudden rash of human trafficking that was cropping up around Empire City, and leveraged his position to secure money and support to bolster the local law enforcement. It was effective enough that he made some very powerful enemies, not the least of which was a particularly dangerous criminal that went by the moniker Sable Myst.


You’ve heard of her?

Well, I can’t say I’m surprised. She has a spiteful streak a mile wide, and seems to have some kind of weird personal grudge against costumed heroes in general. If I had known any of that at the time, I probably would’ve been a lot more cautious, but being as focused as I was on my immediate surroundings, I confess that I really had no idea who I was dealing with.

That was going to change, very, very quickly.

Sable had suffered particularly costly losses at the hands of the Senator’s efforts, and several of her highest-ranking thugs had been caught and locked up. Right or wrong, she seemed to take the Senator’s intrusion as a personal affront, despite being only one of several prominent criminals to feel the pinch from his targeted task forces.

What can I say, the woman is vindictive.

She wanted to hit the man in as painful and personal a way as she could, and to that end, she staged a daring—some might say brazen—intrusion into the Senator’s well-guarded estate, and escaped with his young wife. The operation might have been utterly insane given how high-profile it was, but if Sable Myst is anything, she’s an absolutely meticulous planner. She had an escape plan worked out to the smallest detail, and before anyone could coordinate anything resembling an effective response, she and the senator’s wife were long gone. They fled Empire City, burying their trail, making for more friendly territory from which to issue her demands.

It just so happened that the bolt hole she chose was an old hacienda nestled in a hotspot of criminal activity I’d been watching for months.

My informants tipped me off that something big was happening when the local port saw the freight ship arrive almost unannounced. This wasn’t that unusual; many of the narcotics rings used the ships to ferry their goods along the river, but this one stood out for the high number of foreigners aboard. They were clearly out of their element, electing to ignore the local town as much as possible and making their way immediately to the remote estate. I got word that someone had seen them with a young white woman, seemingly detained against her will. I wasn’t sure what was going on exactly, but my gut was telling me something was seriously amiss. With barely any other information, I trekked through the jungle to the rumored safe house.

I had no way of knowing it, but I was about to walk right into a whole lot of trouble.

* * *

The outskirts of the hacienda were bordered by a small wooden fence, more to discourage stray wildlife than to act as any kind of real barrier. As surrounded as it was by the thick forest, a tall fence wouldn’t have made much of a difference; all an intruder would have to do would be to locate a tree high enough to bound over it.

It was in just one such tree that Jungle Babe was perched. Sitting in the shadows of the dense folliage, the tree gave her a perfect vantage point to survey the property. A remnant of old colonial money, the house was sizeable, with a detached garage and a smaller series of outbuildings to house the servants and to store farming equipment. A large section of the land was set aside, ostensibly to support some kind of a personal garden, but it had gone to fallow over years of disuse. Whoever the new owner was, he was clearly disinterested in reviving the property’s plantation roots.

A winding dirt path led from the narrow road, up a light embankment to the house proper. A ramshackle structure resembling a pillbox more than anything else had been erected by the road, with a plank of wood set up as a hinged gate. The sun was setting swiftly, casting the entirety of the grounds in brilliant reds and oranges, while shadows chased longer and longer paths along the neglected grass.

In fifteen minutes dusk would pass, and in another fifteen it would be night proper; the sun set so rapidly in this part of the world that the transition was sometimes startlingly fast. It had taken her longer to get here than she’d expected, and she only had so much daylight left to surmise who exactly it was she was dealing with.

She’d spotted six men so far; two of them manned the front gate, and two were slowly walking at opposite points around the square perimeter. Three jeeps, splattered with dried dirt from the journey out of town, were parked in a neat row beside the service garage. Evidently the doors either no longer worked, or were simply too much trouble to deal with. The last two guards stood by the front door of the main building, a beautiful adobe structure with protruding rafters and covered in brilliant crimson roof tiles. It too had fallen into disrepair, and in many places the plaster was cracking badly. It clearly had been a jewel in its day, and perhaps might be again, but for now, the grime-flecked windows lent a gauzy, drugged appearance to the light flickering from within.

So at least six sentries outside, and who knows how many more within. Jungle Babe smirked. This should be a cake walk.

The men were almost uniformly overdressed for the humidity; they wore heavy duty, tactical pants lined with pockets, and while a few still wore dark vests of similar make, the majority had stripped away the heavy jacket to wallow miserably in their plain shirts, soaked in sweat. They clutched listlessly at the assault rifles dangling from their shoulders, shuffling impatiently as they stood watch. Occasionally one would slap loudly at his arm or neck in a pathetic attempt to ward off the massive mosquitoes that were eating them alive, a sharp curse carrying to her ears over the heavy, still air.

They lacked the accents of the locals; in fact, although they were suitably crude, their English was surprisingly smooth. They could have been plucked from any major city in the United States.

So the reports were right; these were clearly foreigners, but who were they, and why were they here? The local drug cartel was notoriously ruthless, and would not tolerate any intrusion by a rival gang. They would have come in screaming in cars and jeeps and on motorcycles, shooting first and asking questions never. So clearly this wasn’t drugs, but you didn’t arm yourself like this if you were just interested in poaching. Dana thought back to the photo Escalban had showed her, of the pretty woman being muscled into a waiting car. Was it a kidnapping? This seemed incredibly elaborate for just that, but who could tell how the mind of a sociopath worked?

In a few minutes, it would all be over anyway.

The sun had dipped to a ragged, gleaming scar just over the horizon, and already the night insects were starting up their chorus. Moving as silently as a cat, Jungle Babe dropped from her perch and began circling around the compound, keeping mental track of where the two perimeter sentries were by anticipating their walking speed. She cut back to the fence after covering a quarter or so of the property edge and dropped into a crouch, huffing quietly. She glanced to her right, searching in the gloom, hoping that her instincts were right.

Sure enough, as soon as the darkness had gathered sufficiently, she saw the shaft of a flashlight blink into illumination fifty yards or so away. The sentry had switched on his torch, letting it sweep back and forth in front of him. He was walking away from her, which meant his twin would be just on the other side of the house. She had a few minutes before he would be in view of the rear of the building. Taking a breath, she glanced once more to make sure the path was clear, then charged across the open ground, heading straight for the house.

It took her barely three counts to cover the distance. She dropped to the ground beneath a darkened window, pressing her back against the wall. Gingerly, she raised herself up until she could peer over the sill into the room beyond. It was completely empty, and totally dark. Checking once more to make sure the guards were out of sight, she reached up and found the window catch, giving it an exploratory pull.

To her relief, she felt it give way. The house was old enough that locks on the windows were probably absent, and clearly the new owner cared next to nothing for upkeep. Once again, she quietly congratulated herself on her accurate deduction, swinging the pane open and slipping inside. The window barely squeaked, even when she reached to pull it back into place.

She dropped to the hardwood floor, falling totally still. She listened.

The door to the hallway was shut, and from beneath it a bar of light illuminated the dusty floor. In the rooms beyond, she could hear movement, people walking about, and distant, muffled male voices. It was also there, crouched in the darkness, that Jungle Babe got her first hint that not everything was as it seemed.

The house was surprisingly…cold. Outside the temperature was thick and stifling, but here, it was pleasant, almost chilly. The property was far too old to have a working A/C system, and the house itself could not account for the difference. She frowned, puzzled. Maybe the boss person had a thing for personal comfort? Seemed odd, but ultimately not that important. She moved across the room to the door, pausing for a moment to be sure she didn’t hear anyone on the other side.

When she felt certain enough to open the door, she very quietly turned the handle, and peeked through the gap.

The room beyond was a large common living space, sparsely furnished and laden with dust. The worn floorboards were crisscrossed in footprints left in the layers of fine white particles, and several industrial-looking lamps were hung from hooks around the chamber. In the corner she could see a small generator unit humming quietly, ostensibly providing the electricity for the lighting units, and maybe for whatever air conditioning system was maintaining the temperature. These were all just incidental details though; Jungle Babe’s attention drawn immediately to the small card table set up in the center of the room, and the three men seated around it.

Dressed similarly to their compatriots outside, their utilitarian vests and dark clothing, along with the heavy rifles leaning next to their chairs, immediately gave them away as hired mercenary types. Dana had dealt with their kind countless times before, and felt her confidence swell; no matter how fast they were with their weapons, she was faster still. All three men were embroiled in a heated card game, their conversation punctuated by muffled swears of protest and crude jibes as hands were played out and bluffs were called. None of them were paying the least amount of attention; she had the element of surprise on her side.

She crouched low, coiling the muscles in her legs and preparing to burst into the room, when she heard another door open and shut, followed by the sharp rap of booted steps on the wood floor. She stopped, and listened.

“Did the boss get bored with you already, Matt?” one of the men quipped, sneering at the new arrival. Jungle Babe cracked the door ever so slightly, trying to get a better look. The man he addressed as Matt strode easily up to the table, his uniform distinct from the others in its almost flawless arrangement. Closely cropped dark hair crowned his head, his face an exercise in quiet stoicism. If one looked past the slightly flattened nose, clearly broken at some point in the past, the man was not at all unattractive; in fact, the steely eyes and firm jaw, and the lips set in an almost preternaturally serene smirk, made him oddly compelling. Dana found herself watching him just a little closer than the others.

When Matt didn’t respond immediately, the muscle at the table grinned, “Maybe you ought to give someone else a turn? Let a real man help her work out some of that stress?” He gestured rudely at his crotch. The other two chuckled coarsely.

Dana blinked. Their boss was…a woman?

Matt, though, seemed utterly indifferent. He rounded the table, ambling towards the merc sneering at him through rows of crooked, broken teeth. “You know, Brock, that might not be a terrible idea,” he replied, his voice easy and clear. “The boss usually can’t stand being around men, and we both know you don’t have any fucking balls.”

It took a second for the smooth delivery of the insult to register through Brock’s thick brow, but all at once, his small, dark eyes glowered in fury, his face contorting into an ugly mask as he made to leap to his feet. In a flurry of movement so quick she barely was able to follow, Matt’s hand lashed out, catching Brock’s throat in a vicious pincer as he rose and twisting cruelly. The larger man barely managed to choke out a cry of alarm before he was spun and slammed back into the table, his hands flying up to claw uselessly at the gloved hand crushing his windpipe. The other two leapt away from the sudden flare of violence, looking at each other uneasily.

“H-hey Matt, he was just kidding,” one of them offered, his voice thin. The other nodded quickly.

“Yeah, Brock’s an idiot, and the boredom is getting to him,” his black companion grunted, holding out an upturned palm. “He didn’t mean anything by it.”

On the table, Brock was sputtering, spittle flecking a face that was rapidly changing from red to a deep, ugly purple.

“I’m usually a patient man,” Matt sighed, coal-cold eyes peering down at the blubbering thug like he might regard a particularly fat, interesting bug, “But your rudeness is grating, and your usefulness questionable.” He tightened his fingers, and Brock began to spasm and gurgle, “I ought to just kill you to spare us all the annoyance, but we’re short-handed, and I’m not sure the boss would appreciate the mess…”

He released the man’s throat, spinning him off the table and dropping him to the floor. Brock coughed and spat, clutching at his bruised neck as he rocked on his knees. Matt flexed his gloved hand, and peered at the other two.

“We’re leaving in three hours for the drop off. Make sure everything is ready to go.” He stepped around the table, stopping briefly next to the goon on the floor. “Change your pants. You smell like piss.”

Without another word, the lead mercenary vanished back through one of the doors, leaving the men to exhale loudly at his departure. Brock was still hacking sickly on the floor, but the other two had no sympathy. The black man muttered something under his breath and began gathering up the cards that had scattered across the floor, while the one with the thin voice growled at Brock.

“What the fuck did you think was going to happen? Christ, maybe you really are as dumb as you look. Just be glad it was Rian and not the boss; I don’t think she would have let you live.”

He stormed off, shaking his head, vanishing down an adjacent hallway. Dana retreated into the dark of the room, ducking back as he passed by her door. She ran through the scenarios in her head, thinking quickly. The drop-off they were talking about, it had to have something to do with that woman. So it was a kidnapping. She felt her blood starting to boil. She had to move quickly, and strike while she still had some element of surprise.

There was no way to do this stealthily; the house was too small, and she was about to make a lot of noise. If she was lucky, she’d have all of them disabled before their leader came running.

She glanced back through the crack in the door; Brock was still kneeling, massaging his throat. The other man was now busy packing up several large duffel bags against the wall, his back to her. The third one still hadn’t returned from wherever it was he’d disappeared to.

Well, now was as good a time as any.

She took a breath, and let it out slowly, visualizing what she was about to do. Then, in an explosion of movement, she threw open the door and hurtled into the room beyond.

Brock snapped his head up in shock when the door swung wide, revealing a vision of blonde fury charging towards him at full speed. Beady eyes widened in utter bewilderment before Dana smashed her knee into the middle of his face. He gurgled something unintelligible as he was snapped backwards with a sickening crunch, the force of her blow strong enough to raise his considerable bulk several feet off the floor. His partner whirled, eyes flashing wide, and reached instinctively for a weapon that simply was not there; his rifle lay on the floor, knocked aside in the earlier scuffle. He barely managed to utter a curse when Dana swung her leg, catching his temple with her heel and sending him spinning.

Two down, she thought to herself, just as a series of rapid steps began to approach from the hall.

“Brock, Lucas, what the fuck is—” the third one started, jogging back into the room. His mouth fell open when he spotted Dana, a look of total incredulity on his face. Still, despite his shock, his training kicked in and he instinctively reached for his weapon. Unlike Lucas, this one had grabbed his rifle as he’d left, and now swung it up to aim at the vision of ferocity standing before him. She didn’t give him time to fire. In a blur of motion she made a huge lunge to the side, rebounding as soon as she landed to leap right towards the unprotected opening of his off-gun arm. She leveraged her forward momentum, driving her elbow hard into his ribcage. He doubled over, his face going stark white as the pain and force of drove all the wind out of his lungs. Still Jungle Babe was not done; she followed through with the motion, turning like a top, and brought her heel straight down in a wicked axe kick right onto the back of his head.

He collapsed to the ground in a heap, not moving. The whole thing had taken maybe fifteen seconds, and all three mercenaries were out cold.

“Not bad. That was easier than I—” she started to mutter, right before she heard the click of a hammer being pulled into place.

“Not another move, sweetheart,” came the steely order from behind, “So much as twitch and I’ll put a bullet in the back of your head.”

She recognized the voice; the one called Matt, clearly drawn to the sounds of the commotion, had returned, and was now brandishing a weapon at her back. She grit her teeth, cursing her oversight. The bastard was faster than she’d expected.

“Hands up, if you please,” he said. Slowly, she moved to comply, holding her arms out and straightening up. She felt his eyes on her back, on her scandalously bare legs. She felt herself flush in frustration. “Turn around. Slowly.”

She did as he asked, clenching her jaw. He held the dark sidearm steady as she turned to face him. It was only when she was fully revolved that the stony mask of his face broke into a sardonic smirk.

“Well. I was told that the jungle was full of dangerous animals, but no one told me to expect anything like you.” He looked her up and down, appraising the statuesque blonde in the leopard-print bikini with an eyebrow raised appreciatively. “Though I don’t think I would have believed them even if they’d told me.”

He gestured with the barrel.

“You got a name, gorgeous?”

Her brow creased, red-painted lips curling in a frown, “How does ‘fuck off’ grab you?”

He smiled, almost disarmingly, “Given what you’re wearing, I’ll happily call you whatever you want. But you’ve made a huge mess, and my boss is going to want a word with you, so why don’t you do us both a favor, and—”

He never got to finish his sentence, because at that moment, the window nearest to him exploded inward in a spray of glass, wood, and furiously flapping feathers.

Matt spun in alarm, training his gun on the sudden burst of movement, his mind struggling to make sense of the mass of whirling crows that just battered through the windowpane. He fired reflexively into the cawing horde, but was instantly enveloped, raising his arms defensively around his head as claws and beaks tore and jabbed at his face.

Jungle Babe sent a mental word of thanks to the birds she’d summoned, using the distraction to close the distance between her and the besieged mercenary. He saw her movement, cursing loudly as he moved to bring his gun back to bear, but in a heartbeat she was crouched beneath him. She grabbed his wrist, twisting with precise skill, forcing the gun out of his hands. He reached for a long combat knife strapped to his belt, but the buffet of wings in his face and the relentless screeching in his ear made it impossible to react. He never even saw the open-palmed strike that smashed into his jaw, making his teeth crack together and sending his ears ringing. She riddled his torso with a series of blows, hitting nerve clusters and areas unprotected by his flak vest. He staggered back, gasping in pain, but still would not go down.

A lot tougher than his friends, Jungle Babe observed, panting, but that just meant she needed to hit harder.

He surprised her with a savage swing of his fist, but her blows had left him disoriented and it went wide. She ducked under the punch, letting it sail over her head, before she caught his wrist and wrenched it behind his back. He snarled in pain, but a second later her leg swept his own out from under him, and he fell face-first onto the hard wood floor. She landed lithely on top of him, a knee in the small of his back, another pinning his free arm. She twisted his arm hard, pulling it between his shoulder blades until he winced. The crows fluttered about the room, cawing madly.

“Talk fast, pretty boy, I’m not in the mood for small talk,” she snapped, “Your men were seen detaining a woman; where is she? And where is your boss?”

Matt struggled to regain control of his agonized breathing, flying through any means he could think of to dislodge her and coming up totally short. The bitch was insanely fast, and surprisingly strong, and she had him completely at a disadvantage. When he didn’t answer her right away, she yanked on his arm hard enough to send pain shooting through his shoulder. He winced, and made to answer, but just then, he felt something shift in the room. Instantly, the temperature started to plunge; he could feel the heat smoking off his body, his harried breathing escaping in plumes of thick, heavy white. Sitting astride him, Jungle Babe looked about in surprise, feeling the cold suddenly envelop every inch of her body. She glared down at Matt in confusion, the crows cawing in alarm.

He smirked, “Why don’t you ask her yourself?”

Just then, there was a spray of crackling, glittering white that lanced over her head. Jungle Babe ducked reflexively, feeling a surge of cold so biting it stung the skin on the back of her neck. Instantly, the incessant cawing fell silent, followed a second later by a rain of heavy thumps as the flock of crows dropped to the ground, frozen solid.

Dana spun to find the source of the attack, and saw a shapely, silver form standing in the open doorway. The woman wore a silver and blue bodysuit that rendered her every curve in skintight relief. A slender hand was held up in a dismissive gesture, a flurry of miniscule diamonds still swirling around her fingers from the blast that had frozen the birds. Shoulder length silver hair framed a face that was simultaneously beautiful and startlingly cruel. Dark eyes regarded Dana with a mix of amusement, annoyance, and surprise.

“I’m disappointed, Mr. Rian,” the woman sighed in a voice chiming like crystal, “Getting beaten by a girl in leopard-skin lingerie doesn’t exactly bolster my confidence in your abilities.”

“Apologies, ma’am,” he rasped in reply, “I got distracted.”

She eyed Jungle Babe’s starkly revealing outfit with a bemused smirk. “I can certainly see why.”

The casualness of their exchange was grating on Dana’s nerves; she pushed past the blaze of questions raging in her mind, and turned to fully face the strange woman standing in the doorway. “Who the hell are you? Where’s the woman?”

At this, the newcomer’s eyebrows peaked, “Woman? You mean Mrs. McGuiness?” She laughed, shaking her head. “She’s…occupied, at the moment, but I’d be more than happy to entertain you; though I must ask that you treat my toys with a little more respect.”

She surveyed the damage, the four downed mercenaries and the absolute wreck of a room with unnerving calm, almost amusement. It made Dana’s skin crawl. This wasn’t the look of a person caught off-guard or unprepared; in fact, the way she was looking at her made Jungle Babe feel almost like a prized mare at auction. The woman flexed her hands expectantly, arrogantly striding into the room.

Sensing the blonde heroine’s confusion, the silver-haired woman said, “I seem to have you at a disadvantage; you have no idea who I am, do you, ‘Jungle Babe’?”

The way she sneered the name made Dana’s hackles rise, but inside, it felt like she’d been struck a blow. How did this woman know who she was? What had she gotten herself into?

When Dana didn’t answer immediately, the woman continued, “You can’t expect that I’d waltz right into unknown territory without doing some homework first? Oh, I’m well aware of your recent exploits; some of my favorite clients are incredibly upset with you. I have no doubt that I could get several of them into a fantastic bidding war over your lovely self.”

Jungle Babe growled, “I took out four of your guards without breaking a sweat. What makes you think you’ll be any more of a challenge?”

At this the woman paused, pursing her lips in amusement. “Why, because I’m Sable Myst, and I eat little tramps like you for breakfast.”

The woman lashed out her arm, an arc of blistering white following behind, and Dana’s eyes went wide as shards of razor sharp ice exploded towards her. She leapt out of the way, rolling to avoid a second volley that tracked dangerously close behind, but Sable Myst gave her no quarter. No sooner would she land than another cascade of glittering shards would be hurled her way, forcing her again to move. Sable laughed.

“You’re fast! Faster than the reports, anyway! But you can’t dodge forever!”

Jungle Babe dove into a slide, gauging the distance to the wall, to the table, to the woman peppering the air with deadly, frozen glass. She counted, waiting for the next volley. She heard the hiss as the crystals materialized in the air, and leapt to the wall, hard.

“I don’t intend to!” she shouted back, rebounding off the wood to land deftly on the table, before kicking off straight at her silver-haired attacker. The sudden shift in momentum caught Sable off guard, and she backpedaled to avoid the lash of a kick that nearly took her head off. Jungle Babe spun with the movement, using it to drive an open palmed strike aimed square at Sable Myst’s chest, but the villainess was ready.

She gestured upwards with her open hand, and a column of ice erupted from the ground in front of her, absorbing Dana’s strike. The blonde winced as pain lanced up her arm, the blow sending a spider web of cracks splintering through the ice block. Breathing through the pain, she smashed her knee into the block in the same spot, and it exploded back in chunks of ice and snow.

Sable cursed, throwing her arms up to deflect the debris, but her quarry was already moving, dashing into the swirling cloud. Jungle Babe sidestepped a blast of ice so cold it singed. She grimaced at the pain, but she couldn’t back away now; if she let Sable control the distance and tempo of the fight, she was as good as beaten. She had to keep the fight in close quarters.

Her rapid movements seemed to be working; she was forcing the silver-clad villainess back, slowly closing the distance. One good blow was all she needed to land, and the fight would be over. Relentlessly she feigned and bobbed, anticipating each new flurry and moving away at the last possible second. She could tell her opponent was growing frantic, even panicky, by the way each shot seemed to become more and more haphazard, reactionary.

Time to put an end to this, Dana thought, and braced herself for the final push.

When Sable launched her next attack, Dana exploded into motion, ducking under the barrage and closing the distance between them with frightening speed. She heard Sable utter a curse, and saw her hands move to fire again, but she was faster. Her leg shot out like a spear, catching her adversary’s hip and sending her spinning against the wall. Sable had twisted at the last second though, and the blow was more glancing than it should have been, but Dana smelled blood in the water. She dashed in pursuit.

Sable crashed against the wall, her back to Dana, leaving her dangerously exposed, swaying from the force of her impact. If she turned to face her, Dana would have any number of possible avenues of attack, and if she didn’t, she left herself totally vulnerable to a strike from the rear.

The blonde heroine pulled back a fist. She’d won.

As she expected, Sable turned to face her incoming assailant, but right before Dana could deliver the final blow, she saw a flash of something silver in Sable’s hand. She didn’t recognize the small, polished cylinder until she heard the hiss as a jet of swirling pink smoke blasted her square in the face.

It caught her totally off-guard, and she reacted purely on instinct, throwing up her hands in a useless attempt to deflect the gas, and gasping in shock—inhaling a lungful of the sweetly fragrant emission before she knew what was happening.

She fell to a knee, coughing furiously. Sable Myst’s crystalline laughter pierced through her confusion, and at once she could see the look of distress and panic she’d seen on the villainess’ face had been a ruse. She smirked down at Jungle Babe, idly twirling the pen-sized cylinder in her slender fingers.

“Well I’ve got to hand it to you, you’re not quite the novice I expected you’d be. In a fair fight you might have even managed to beat me; you’re stronger, faster, and a lot more agile than I am.” Her smile broadened into a wicked smile. “Of course, I don’t play fair.”

“You…bitch…” Dana coughed, struggling to her feet. “This fight isn’t over!”

She lunged at Sable, launching her fist, but something was wrong. Her movements were slowing, growing clumsy, and her punch was so telegraphed that Sable actually caught her wrist well before the swing could connect. Dana stared in shock at the blue glove gripping her arm, confusion twisting her features, even as a strange, creeping heat began to spread through her body. The warmth felt like it was radiating from her chest, running down her arms and legs in a cascade that felt like she was being immersed in rich, warm oil. Despite the still-frigid temperature of the room, and the clouds of panting vapor that escaped her red lips, she began feeling flushed, almost feverish. Her bright blue eyes widened in alarm, meeting Sable’s penetrating stare and sensing only the cold, predatory certainty lurking therein. She tried to pull her arm away, but Sable held her fast.

“T-that gas…” Jungle Babe gasped, suddenly feeling horribly woozy, almost drunk, “What—what was…that gas…?”

Sable Myst released her arm and shoved her backwards. She staggered, the motion too much for her overwhelmed sense of equilibrium, and she would have lost her footing entirely had she not collided with something hard and unyielding. Fingers like iron clamped onto her upper arms, pinning them in place, as she was pulled hard against the uniformed torso of the man who had snuck up behind her.

“Easy there, gorgeous,” Matt’s voice rasped in her ear, “Don’t want to fall now.”

“L-let me go!” Dana snapped, struggling in his grip, but it was like she was two steps removed from what her body was doing; her movements felt uncoordinated, sluggish, and she couldn’t summon the strength to break his grip. Something was wrong; something was terribly, terribly wrong.

Sable Myst slinked forward, assessing her new catch with a slow, roving stare. “Mr. Rian, be a gentleman and help our guest keep her footing. She’s looking a little lightheaded.”

“Yes Ma’am,” came the curt reply. Sable’s dark eyes bored into Dana’s own.

“As to your question,” the woman breathed, stepping closer, “it’s called Climax, a product of my own invention with several possible vectors; ingestion, injection…or inhalation.” She held up the slender silver cylinder before Dana’s frightened eyes. “I find it incredibly useful in dealing with overconfident, costumed fools such as you.”

“You’re a…c-coward…” Dana growled, still struggling uselessly, but as much as she hated to admit it, Sable was right; her head was swimming, and her body felt so limp that without Matt’s grip supporting her weight she was sure she’d be flat on her back. She needed to think, to find a way out of this…but it was getting so hard to focus, to concentrate. The heat incubating in her body was only getting worse, and it seemed to be coalescing in her chest…her breasts…between her thighs.

Oh god, what was happening to her?

“I prefer to think of it as being calculatingly cautious,” Sable corrected her, “When you deal in my trade, you learn that there often aren’t any second chances; if you slip up, you wind up dead…or worse…”

Without warning, she slid the metallic cylinder between Jungle Babe’s exposed cleavage, nestling the device between her panting tits. Dana looked at her in shock. “H-hey! What do you think you’re—”

“Normally, Climax is least effective in gas form,” Sable went on, ignoring her cry of protest. Her tone was casual, almost matter-of-fact, like she could have been delivering a lecture, “And it tends to have a diminished initial effect on superhuman physiologies, such as yours. One dosage is usually enough just to immobilize. It takes supplementary exposure for the drug to really…sink in…”

Before Dana could say another word, Sable deftly twisted the control valve of the apparatus, and once more Dana’s ears were filled with a low, sinister hiss. Rather than the full on blast from earlier, the pink gas was leaking out of the silver cylinder in a slow, steady plume. Like smoke from a freshly extinguished candle, the heady ribbon licked along Jungle Babe’s neck, splashing against her chin and breaking into countless strands of sinuous vapor. The distraught heroine struggled uselessly in her captor’s grip, and did the only thing she could think of.

She held her breath.

This only seemed to amuse Sable Myst, whose eyes sparkled evilly. “Such a valiant effort, but ultimately futile. Just one more breath is all it’s going to take. Climax does such wonderful things to the female body. It heightens sensitivity, while at the same time inhibiting your conscious control over your own actions. Let me demonstrate…”

While she spoke, Sable had quietly maneuvered her hand beneath the flap of Dana’s loincloth, and swiftly moved to cup her sex through the narrow strip of her thong. Dana jolted in shock, mewling in protest, and struggled to control the air that threatened to burst from her lungs. She glared at Sable, but the villainess only smirked back. Dana’s face reddened in mortification, utterly horrified at the personal violation, yet powerless to do anything about it. A moment later though, an awful realization began to dawn on her; the creeping, irrepressible warmth that was moving through her body had left her pussy strangely tingling, and now, the insistent pressure of Sable’s hand made it doubly worse. She could feel the blood rushing to her sex to swell in her nether lips, to throb in her dangerously sensitive clit. To her utter disbelief, she could feel her wetness beginning to flow…and all the bitch had done was press her hand against her pussy!

Sable tittered cruelly, eyeing Dana’s distress with confident glee. “Already your body is responding; this sweet little cunt of yours is starting to melt, and I’ve barely even touched you. What do you think is going to happen when I do…this?”

Dana groaned angrily as Sable’s fingers suddenly began to shift into motion. Slender digits rhythmically pushed against the swollen lips of her sex, rolling them apart so that the strap of her thong slipped between and pressed against her rigid clit. The smooth texture of Sable’s gloved hand as it traced and fondled the length of her pussy was positively wicked, and Dana had to clench her teeth to stifle the choked gasps that wanted to escape her throat.

Holding her breath was making things infinitely worse; though Sable had only been touching her for a few moments, each second seemed to stretch into painful minutes as her lungs began to burn, and her head began to throb. Every sensation seemed to be magnified twice over; she could feel every brush of Sable’s patient petting, every rolling caress that sent her thong sawing between her sodden lips. It wasn’t long before her angry glare faded into a look of growing desperation. She was starting to see spots flicker across her eyes, and the periphery of her vision was growing hazy. Her throat ached, and her heart hammered as she tried to think of something, anything, to get out of this. But she couldn’t think, and her body felt so heavy, so limp…

Then Sable’s thumb found her clit, and slowly began to flick back and forth across it.

Pleasure sparked up her spine, and the cry was forced out of her lungs before she realized what had happened. She felt the chill air race into her chest as she took a long, wrenching gasp—and only then did her eyes widen in horrid realization.

Sable’s sultry smirk only widened. “I win.”

She couldn’t stop the shuddering, hungry pants her body demanded she take after denying herself so much oxygen, and the sweet, fragrant musk assaulted her senses. At once, a wave of wilting heat exploded inside her, driving the strength fully from her legs and making every inch of her skin tingle in awful delight. Instantly she was acutely aware of every sensation; of the rough scratch of Matt’s uniform against her bare legs and back; of the now painful confinement of feeling her aching nipples press into the cups of her bra; and worst of all, of the all-too knowing manipulation of her suddenly gushing sex.

“AH!” Dana cried, her face blushing crimson at the unmistakably hot, lusty tone in her own voice, “S-stop, please, I can’t…I…I…” Then, Sable pulled the soaked strip of her thong to the side, fully exposing her weeping sex, before easily sliding a long finger deep inside. Dana’s eyes rolled back, “NNn…ooooooohhhh…!”

That one finger was soon joined by a second, then a third, before Sable began rocking her hand against Jungle Babe’s openly dripping pussy. Dana thrashed her head in wild denial, but soon all that was left of her angry protests were moans, and airy sighs, growing louder and louder as Sable’s fingers plunged relentlessly into her tightening cunt. In spite of her resistance, Jungle Babe’s thighs began to spread, and her hips began to rock in time against the vile villainess’ dominating strokes, driving her higher and higher towards a precipice of subjugating pleasure.

All the while, with every gasping breath, she took in more of the deadly aphrodisiac rising from the capsule tucked snugly between her breasts, falling deeper and deeper into its sweet, intoxicating grip.

“Sstop it…s-stop…oh stop…oohhh…” Dana begged. Her mind was almost on auto-pilot, dazedly repeating the same hollow paeans of resistance even as her body responded more and more readily to the seductive manipulation occurring between her spread thighs.

Despite her own inoculation against the effect of the drug, Sable Myst could feel the constant exposure starting to affect her a little as well. The contact high left her with a lingering, entirely not-unpleasant buzzing in her head. She had to cut to the chase.

She moved in closer, so that her nose brushed against Dana’s own, and her lips hung mere centimeters away from the panting blonde’s open mouth. Her hand continued to fuck a toe-curling rhythm in and out of Jungle Babe’s all-too eager pussy, moving faster and faster. Dana’s breathing grew ragged, her head swimming with the heady mixture of both the insidious aphrodisiac and mind-melting pleasure.

But just before the orgasm building inside her broke, Sable’s hand abruptly stopped moving.

“W-what…?” Jungle Babe gasped, blinking in confusion, forced to stare into the sultry dark eyes hovering just inches away from her own.

“I stopped,” Sable explained in a whisper, “Just like you wanted me to, remember?”

Jungle Babe struggled to form a cohesive thought; her release stymied, she writhed ineffectually in the mercenary’s steady grip. Sable’s fingers were still deep inside her, holding still against the clutching walls of her overheated sex. Normally, the impending orgasm would have begun to recede; her body should have had a chance to cool down…but that wasn’t happening. Something was wrong. The pressure, the unforgiving need, continued to simmer.

It was the drug, Dana realized dimly; it was preventing her from coming down off the intense arousal she’d been forced to endure. The need for pleasure was somehow infinitely worse than the pleasure itself; it was like when she was holding her breath, except now it seemed like her entire body was caught in some awful asphyxiation of bliss. Even as her thoughts raced, Sable’s words echoed heavily. She’d stopped. Dana had wanted her to stop…

…hadn’t she?

She felt the evil slaver’s lips brush tantalizingly against her own, and caught her breath. “You don’t have to stop though,” the silver-haired temptress whispered, “You’re squeezing my fingers so tightly, you have to be close. So very, very close. It would feel so good to cum. To explode. You want it, don’t you?”

Jungle Babe tried to find the words to deny her, but her head was so foggy, and she was…she was so hot…

All she could manage was a halting, “N-no…I don’t…I don’t know, I shouldn’t—”

She moaned when she felt Sable’s slick thumb shift to press insistently against her erect clit, only to once more freeze stock still. She was so wet, she could feel herself just dripping down the woman’s gloved fingers. It felt good to have them inside her. It felt good to feel the pressure against her clit. If only she’d move, it would just take a second, a heartbeat, and she’d be cumming. But…no…that’s not right…she didn’t want it…she was being forced…but oh god, she was so turned on…!

Just then, she felt those fingers stir inside her again, felt her cit mash against the pad of Sable’s thumb, and gasped, almost in relief—till she realized that Sable was still not moving, and that the motion was caused by her hips, her own hips, rocking into the woman’s waiting hand.

“That’s the way,” the smirking villainess goaded, “Your body knows what it wants. You can’t stop yourself, can you?” Her tone changed, becoming firm, commanding. “Faster slut. Fuck yourself faster on my fingers. You know you want to.”

Jungle Babe’s mind reeled as her very thoughts began to betray her. Sable’s words were so calm, so confident, it was so hard to ignore her commands. Her hips were moving on their own, rocking harder and harder against the intruding digits giving her so much pleasure. Whatever tenuous influence she still had over them was fading rapidly as the orgasm that had so recently eluded her began to rush towards her once again.

Sable was right; she did want this. She wanted to cum so bad. She wanted it…needed it…

“Yes…yess…!” Dana began to whine, rolling her hips so that her clit crushed against the unyielding force of Sable’s thumb. She worked her hand like it was a cock, buried deep inside her, plunging in and out…in and out…she was getting so close, so amazingly close…!

“Kiss me,” Sable whispered to the drugged heroine, “Kiss me, and I’ll let you cum.”

Jungle Babe was helpless before the vile imperative, her will sapped into utter impotence. With thoughts of only the pleasure, of the wonderful release, rioting in her mind, her consciousness finally gave way. With an obedient moan, she leaned forward, seeking out the villainess’ waiting mouth and offering her own in a submissive kiss.

It was only when she felt the soothing cool of Sable’s lips did she realize how feverish she really was, but it was merely a passing thought, because a second later she felt the orgasm she’d been desperately chasing burst into full, delicious bloom. A final turn of her hips, and she exploded onto Sable’s hand, crying her pleasure into the woman’s open mouth. She shook, held on her feet only by the unfailing grip on her upper arms, as the orgasm gushed through her, as it drowned her.

When at last it ended, Jungle Babe lost the strength to keep her head up. She broke the kiss, her head lolling forward. She was panting, barely conscious. The events that followed were a blur; she heard Sable say something to her second-in-command as she retrieved the cylinder from between Jungle Babe’s tits, something about taking her to the ‘play room’, and to get someone to clean up the mess they’d made. The last thing she remembered was being foisted into the mercenary’s waiting arms, and carried off into the depths of the hacienda.

Sable’s voice chased after her, though her addled mind barely recognized the gravity of the threat, “I have a few calls to make. I want her properly prepared and fully conditioned before we deliver her to the winning bidder. Have the boys show her how sluts are supposed to behave.”

Then, there was only sweet, merciful darkness.

* * *

At that, Jungle Babe paused her retelling, and the cave fell into almost total silence. She swallowed hard, her mind racing as it sought to recall the events, even as she struggled with new uncertainties. She hadn’t meant to go into such lurid detail when she began her story, but for some reason, she found it impossible to stop once she’d started.

She felt Anna lying next to her, as still as a statue, and worried that she’d gone too far. It would have been sufficient to just gloss over the humiliation of her capture, and cut right to the events that happened in the hours that followed, and yet she had been unable, perhaps unwilling, to do so.

‘No, it’s important you leave it in, leave all the details bare; she needs to understand what you went through so that the depth of your debt can be seen in context,’ her mind seemed to rationalize, ‘She’s no naive waif anymore; she’s seen, and experienced, horrors of her own; better for her to see that there’s hope even in the midst of such wickedness.’

It made sense, and maybe Dana could have even taken solace in the soundness of her reasoning…and yet…

She shifted her legs together, and reddened slightly in the dark of the cave as she felt her suddenly sodden pussy mewl in response. The naked arousal retelling the events had sparked inside her made her feel dirty, ashamed; she should be feeling anger, revulsion, and righteous indignation at being made to suffer at the hands of that witch Sable Myst, yet she could not deny that she felt almost none of those things.

It just made her hot.

She couldn’t help but wonder…was Anna turned on too?

“Stop it,” she chided herself angrily, suddenly aghast at the thoughts swirling in her head, “What the hell is wrong with you?”

Yet try as she might, Dana couldn’t ignore the feeling of having the young woman’s back nestled against her, of how soft and smooth her bare skin felt. The scent of her hair filled her senses. The feelings of attraction she felt towards her were strong and getting stronger still, surprising Dana with their intensity.

No. Not here. The feelings were too raw, too confusing. She would be taking advantage of a woman in terrible distress…she would only get hurt…

God, she was so wet.

Before she could hope to resolve her conflicting emotions, Anna’s voice cut through the silence, jarring her back to reality.

“Dana…?” she said, shifting slightly in her embrace. Dana’s heart skipped a beat, dread gnawing at her. The openness of her retelling had left her feeling uncharacteristically vulnerable, and she was afraid the words that followed would be an admonishment, a rejection…

“What happened next?”

There was an unmistakably expectant tone in those words, a breathlessness that betrayed a kind of helpless excitement. Dana felt Anna shift again, and realized that the girl had quietly slipped her hand down, sneaking it between her own slender thighs. Every so often she felt the subtle, self-conscious sway of Anna’s hips against her own; it didn’t take much to imagine what was going on, what the young woman was trying to quietly disguise.

It made part of her absolutely thrill.

‘She’s enjoying it. You’re turning her on. You’re telling her about how you were drugged, reduced to a mindless sex toy for a slaver and her vile underlings, and she’s touching herself,’ it exclaimed. A weird sense of power, of control, accompanied those thoughts, even as her own excitement began to soar. ‘Go on. Give her what she wants. Tell her more.’

Yet part of her still gave pause. It was all happening so fast. This wasn’t just some naughty slumber party, they were close to the heart of the monster’s domain. The danger they were in could not be understated. Had Dana thought to get up, to look outside the cave through the steady beat of the rain, her concerns would have been justified.

Normally, their elevation would have provided a natural barrier against free-forming fog. It would have cascaded into the crooks and valleys, finding the low ground and churning there, but there was nothing natural about the twisted nightmare the landscape had been turned into.

The rain had awakened the corrupted earth, which exhaled up the thick, vile miasma that had permeated the forest. As if sensing the presence of the two warm, living bodies, it had wound and crept its way up the slope of the hill, crawling with almost sentient intent towards the mouth of the cave. Sinuous, whisper-thin tendrils had swept across the ground, and were now lapping with clear, unnatural hunger against Dana’s exposed flesh.

All the while she’d been telling her story, it had tasted her, caressing her even now. It crept along her back; it glanced across the firm globes of her ass; it dipped into the space between her pressed thighs. The lightest of touches, the merest of ghostly attentions, yet already the unsuspecting heroine was falling prey to their influence.

She squirmed as phantom tongues slipped and sawed between her unguarded pussy lips, wholly unconscious of the peril she was in, aware only of her growing arousal, and Anna’s sweet, heady scent filling every breath she took.

‘Tell her…everything…’ once more came the insidious whisper, and Jungle Babe, falling increasingly under its sway, couldn’t conceive of a reason to resist.

Jungle Babe — In the Clutches of Cernunnos

Chapter 9: Myst, part 2

Authors Note: Once again, I’d like to thank the eponymous Sable Myst for granting me license to use her characters for these last two chapters; they were a ton of fun and I am grateful for the opportunity. Readers who enjoy my work are encouraged to explore hers further at http://ultrawomanuniverse.blogspot.com.

Dana was in a haze as Sable Myst’s lieutenant, Matt Rian, carried her through the decrepit hallways of the hacienda. Cradled in his arms, with barely enough strength to raise her head, the journey was a confusing whirl of twists and turns, descents through dark staircases, and the steady, ominous sound of Rian’s footfalls echoing down the empty passageways. He carried her weight almost effortlessly, his gait smooth and confident. Her body was still a riot from the intense exposure to Sable’s insidious aphrodisiac, tremors from the orgasm forced upon her still sparking in her sensitized sex, and her mind was a muddled mess as a result.

Despite it all, even in her drugged state Jungle Babe felt the sudden shift in her captor’s demeanor a they finally reached their destination; his footfalls terminated abruptly, and she felt his grip on her shift, betraying a sudden jump in tension. She swiveled her head, struggling to see where they were or what was happening.

When her eyes finally managed to still their drunken lurch long enough to find focus, the sight that greeted them made her gasp in shock.

They had reached a secluded chamber within the sprawling estate, some place deep in its reclaimed cellar ideally suited for a makeshift prison cell. It was here that Sable kept Mrs. McGuiness, the Senator’s kidnapped wife, in forced captivity; and at the moment, the woman was not alone.

The room was terribly dark, illuminated only by a series of flickering candles carelessly scattered atop the few flat surfaces available; a mismatch of tables and chairs, salvaged from other parts of the house, littered the chamber. A pile of mattresses dominated the corner, and it was atop this musty mess that Jungle Babe caught sight of the beleaguered Mrs. McGuiness, and the monstrously proportioned man holding her in his lap.

Dana’s wide eyes could struggled to accept what she was seeing. The woman was totally naked, her pale body marred by scuffs of dust and dirt, and dotted with not a few red welts and darkening bruises. Her long, straight black hair was a mess, cascading in tangled waves around her fair, upper-class features. She sat facing the door to the chamber, perched on the naked thighs of the goon dwarfing her fragile frame. She was splayed against his chest, too exhausted to hold herself up. Enormous, craggy hands gripped her hips, cruelly grinding them into his lap. Shadows mercifully concealed the juncture of their bodies from Dana’s horrified gaze, but the way he was moving her, back and forth, up and down, coupled with the woman’s labored, heavy panting left no room for ambiguity about what he was doing to her.

As Matt’s shadow darkened the doorway, the man’s low, derisive murmurs to his helpless victim suddenly stopped as well, though the forced manipulation of her body did not. From the sudden, precipitous drop in temperature, Jungle Babe almost thought Sable Myst had entered the room, but this chill was different.

This was sheer, undisguised animosity.

“You shouldn’t be down here.” The terse statement made no attempt to disguise the tone of palpable loathing in Matt’s voice. Jungle Babe swiveled her gaze, and saw at once the flinty glare Rian aimed at the ruffian on the bed. The response was a low, throaty chuckle.

“I got bored,” the man rumbled, utterly unabashed at being caught, quite literally, with his pants down, “I thought, why should the boss’s little pet boy scout get all the fun?”

His hands forced a particularly cruel twist of Mrs. McGuiness’ hips, wrenching a weak, stilted cry from the trembling woman.

“Besides,” the goon continued, “This little lady was getting lonely. I wanted to show her what a real man felt like before she got sold off to those limp-dicked Russian pussies. You know, get her properly broken in.”

He chuckled, an ugly, rattling sound. “You’re welcome to have a turn, Matty-boy…but I might have stretched her out a bit…”

“Your orders were to load the fucking trucks,” Matt spat, ignoring the jab, “Not waste your time down here ruining the merchandise. This bitch isn’t going for cheap, and the last thing we need is for the fucking Russians to be pissed because we sold them damaged goods.”

“Fuck the Russians, and fuck you.” the man grunted, bouncing Mrs. McGuiness faster on his lap. His dark eyes finally fell upon the Dana where Matt carried her in his arms, and his thick lips split open to reveal a crooked, toothy sneer. “You can leave her anywhere you like. I’ll get to her next.”

The room spun wildly around Jungle Babe as Matt unceremoniously deposited her on a nearby stack of cots. She tried to sit up, but she still had absolutely no strength. She could only watch in silent horror at the state Mrs. McGuiness found herself in, her gut wrenching almost painfully. Oh god, how long had this been going on? These monsters…the poor woman…!

Matt’s movements suggested the icy calm of a cobra as he rounded on the insubordinate ruffian still blithely fucking on the makeshift bed. Dana couldn’t see his face, but recalled the preternatural calm that preceded the almost explosive violence he unleashed on the henchman upstairs. She barely knew this man, but already she recognized the streak of corrosive fury churning within his studiously stoic appearance.

Something bad was about to happen. Internally she raged against her own wretched helplessness, her inability to act only fueling her dread.

“You have ten seconds to pull up your pants and get the fuck out of here, LaBoune,” he said flatly. The hulking brute on the bed scoffed, making no move to stop at all.

“Or what, shrimp? You going to come over here and finish me up for the little lady?”

There was a sudden blur of movement, accompanied by the resounding click of a hammer being pulled back, and instantly Matt Rian had a sidearm trained on the copulating pair. It was almost unbelievable how fast the man could move.

“Or I blow your balls off, you sack of shit. Ten.”

Maybe it was the gun, or the unflinchingly dry delivery, but something made the man he called LaBoune pause. He stopped gyrating the senator’s wife astride his hips, but did not release her, keeping her whimpering and trembling against his broad chest. She could hear the contempt oozing in his voice.

“You’re bluffing,” he scoffed.


“No way you’d risk shooting the broad.”

“She’ll wash clean. You, not so much. Seven.”

“Mr. Big shot over here. Needle-dicked lapdog—”


“I’ll KILL YOU,” LaBoune suddenly roared, spittle flying halfway across the room, “I’ll tear off your cock and shove it down your—”


“You FUCK. You little FUCK!”


LaBoune let out a guttural roar of pure, unvarnished rage, and heaved the naked woman off his lap and onto the dusty floor. She barely made a sound when she hit, only spasming and twitching uncontrollably on the ground. LaBoune rose to his feet, and Jungle Babe was shocked by just how tall he truly was. The ceiling in the lower room wasn’t that much higher than Matt’s head, and LaBoune had to stoop to avoid smashing into it. He had to be nearly seven feet tall, and was built like a gorilla…and the thing between his legs…

No human should be built like that. He was huge, gnarled and hideous, and in the flickering candlelight his cock glistened wetly even as it pulsed an angry, frustrated purple. The thought of being subjected to impalement on that thing made Dana cringe.

And yet, at the same time, she felt a twinge of something deep in her sodden pussy as she stared aghast at that engorged member, a hollow ache that made her throat run dry. Could a woman really fit such a wicked thing inside her? It would be torturous, awful…

Movement from the floor attracted her attention; the fallen Mrs. McGuinness seemed like she was trying to get up. But…no, something didn’t look right. She’d managed to raise her self to her knees, but her face and chest remained pressed against the dusty floor, her ass lewdly presented in the air. Then, Dana heard her; she heard her whimpers turn to moans, her panting turn to gasps, and saw with dawning disbelief that the woman’s hands were working furiously between her naked thighs.

“M-more…please, more…” the woman quietly whimpered, a puddle of drool forming at the corner of her mouth. The sight of her eyes manically rolled up in her head, white and fluttering, filled Dana with chilling dismay. The woman had been fucked out of her mind. How long had she been down here? How many times had she been raped? They must have used that drug on her too, Dana reasoned; they wanted to keep her helpless, obediently compliant. It explained why the room didn’t have a door, why there were no restraints anywhere to be seen. They never needed to tie her up; it was plain to see, the woman only had one thing on her mind…and escape wasn’t it.

“Oh god,” Dana thought miserably, “They’re going to do the same thing to me. I’ve got to get out of here!”

Neither of the men seemed to care about Mrs. McGuiness at the moment, or her for that matter. LaBoune was snarling, his nostrils flaring furiously. His bald head seemed disproportionately small atop his chorded, thick neck, and narrow, beady eyes glared balefully at Matt Rian. Sable Myst’s prime lieutenant stood as still as a statue, his weapon trained unflinchingly at the mammoth of a man’s wide chest. For painfully long moments, neither of them budged.

LaBoune’s hands clenched and unclenched in impotent discontent, as if he couldn’t make up his mind whether taking a bullet (or two, or three…) would be worth finally snapping his rival’s neck. Dana could practically see the gears slowly churning beneath his broad brow, but finally, with a string of curses, he unceremoniously heaved up his pants, stuffed himself back in, and slowly stomped out of the room.

The barrel of Rian’s gun tracked his departure, never leaving him for even a second. LaBoune stopped at the door frame, and for the first time since they first arrived, Dana felt his eyes fall upon her where she lay prone on the mass of mattresses. She felt his eyes roam over every inch of her barely clothed form, and a cold shiver raced up her spine. He locked eyes with her, boring into her own with undisguised lust.

“I’ll be back for you later, sweetheart,” he leered, “Count on it.”

With, he stooped through the doorway, and disappeared into the adjoining hall, whistling discordantly as he went. They listened to his heavy footfalls recede into the distance, growing fainter and fainter. At last, there was a wrenching noise as a door was slammed shut, and then there was only silence.

Matt glanced down the hallway, confirming the brute had really made his departure. Only then did he replace his sidearm, muttering something under his breath that Dana couldn’t make out. He noticed her watching him, and flashed her a wry smile.

“Back with us I see? I’ve got to hand it to you, most women get a dosage like the one Sable hit you with and they’re out for hours. Of course, I can’t say I’m completely surprised; a fine female specimen such as yourself would have a hearty constitution.”

He stepped over to the fallen Mrs. McGuinness, still mindlessly masturbating on the dusty floor. He lifted her to her feet, and guided her back to the mattresses in the corner. She moaned something unintelligible as she reached for Matt, trying to pull him close, but he patiently kept her hands at bay as he quickly surveyed her for any serious damage. Finally, apparently satisfied with his inspection, his hand retrieved a small snub-nosed device he gripped almost like a pistol. He pressed the barrel against the woman’s pale thigh, and then there was a brief hiss as mechanism delivered its payload into her bloodstream. At once, her blind flailing fell still, and her eyes unceremoniously shut. She collapsed back on the bed, totally unmoving. Matt checked the pulse at her throat for a count, then rose to his feet, replacing the device in some hidden pocket of his uniform.

“LaBoune is lucky he didn’t cause her any lasting harm,” he remarked idly, coming around to Dana’s makeshift bed and lightly seating himself on the end. “The boss is fiercely protective of her reputation, and we can’t have people crowing that we trade in sub-par materials.” He shrugged, as if discussing human slave trade was the simplest thing in the world, “You have to understand our clients. They tend to be extremely particular.”

“You’re…scum,” Dana hissed, struggling to get the words past her aching throat, “All of you, you’re worthless scum, and I swear if you think you’ll get away with this—”

But Rian wasn’t listening. He was silently and quite eagerly looking her over, letting his eyes linger over each and every luscious curve. Jungle Babe felt herself redden, both with rage and with crushing humiliation, and yet still she could barely move. She glared wordlessly at him, casting daggers with her eyes when it became too difficult to keep talking. For all his false charm and darkly good looks, she felt nothing but utter hatred for this man.

“I should have let the crows peck out your fucking eyes,” Dana fumed, his creeping gaze making her skin break out in goose bumps.

“How many times do you think I’ve heard those exact words? Matt answered coolly. He reached out with a dark gloved hand, and rested it on Dana’s knee. She jerked at the sudden contact, but could only glare uselessly up at him from the bed.

“Get your hands off me!” she snapped, but again he ignored her. His hand began to touch and test the firmness of her thigh, grazing along the supple smoothness of her flesh. She felt herself redden even further.

“You’re hardly the first superheroine who made the unfortunate miscalculation that she could best Sable Myst in a fight,” he explained patiently, almost apologetically. “Sometimes they just flat out lose to her ice powers. More often than not though, Sable just uses them as a set up, just like she did with you. Once the Climax hits…well, it’s all over…”

His hand had been slowly creeping its way up her leg, his leather glove surprisingly soft. No matter how hard she tried, Dana could still barely will any movement out of her intoxicated limbs. She could only stare in growing dismay as Matt’s fingers continued to slide higher and higher, until they were grazing against the flap of her loincloth. He was in absolutely no rush, his touch unhurried and supremely confident.

“D-don’t—don’t you dare!” Dana yelped, as she felt his fingers slip beneath the triangle of pelt, “Don’t…no!!”

His fingers brushed against the front of her panties, tracing the fabric of her thong where it offered the flimsiest of defenses for her naked sex. She winced as her body responded to his invasive touch by suddenly flushing anew in a wave of heat. Her skin seemed to ignite under his touch, the flash of tingling sensation nearly making her gasp.

“It’s the damn drug,” she groaned inwardly, “I can’t believe how s-sensitive I am…!”

She clenched her jaw, resolving not to give him the satisfaction of seeing her react in humiliation. Maybe if she feigned indifference, he’d lose interest and leave her alone, but her paltry hopes were soon dashed when she saw the patient, amused glint in the mercenary’s eyes.

“I know what you’re thinking,” he murmured sympathetically, “Right now, you’re probably devising any number of horrible ways to kill me. Maybe you’re wondering whether I’ll get bored if you just lie there glaring at me. Again, I’ll remind you, you aren’t the first costumed heroine to find herself in this position; I’ve been working for Sable a long time, and one of the perks I get for my loyalty is having first crack at new acquisitions. It’s my job to make sure the new girls understand the rules, so listen up, sweety.”

His fingers continued their methodical manipulation of her panty-covered sex, confidently massaging her rapidly-swelling nether lips with surprising skill. The drug had come between her mind and her body, and her out of control libido didn’t care that she was lying incapacitated in a slaver’s den, or that just a few feet away another woman lay recovering from a mind-warping rape; it just knew that she had a man’s hand between her legs, doing horribly delightful things to her sensitive pussy.

It was getting harder and harder to pretend he wasn’t having an effect on her.

She could feel herself getting wet, could feel the telltale juices leaking treacherously from her squirming sex. The color blossoming hotly on her cheeks burned, making her feel lightheaded and feverish. She found herself becoming increasingly fixated on his deep, penetrating stare, so much so that she had to finally avert here eyes from him. She was afraid of how…hot…they were making her feel.

“You belong to Sable Myst now,” he explained, punctuating the brand by flicking his fingertips over the erect nub of her clit. The sudden jolt of pleasure made her gasp involuntarily, though Dana managed to choke back the moan that almost followed. Mercifully he relented, moving back to idly stroke up and down the increasingly heated lips hidden beneath her narrow panties, but having touched her there once, his fingers didn’t stay away long.

“Who you are, who you used to be, that doesn’t matter anymore. Soon, all you’re going to care about is sex; you’ll dream of sex; beg for sex. You’ll be so addicted, you’ll do anything to get more…” This time, his hand slipped beneath the flimsy fabric of her thong to touch directly against her pussy. She felt him close in on her clit, capturing it once more beneath his stroking fingers. They caressed, and pressed, and before she realized it was happening Jungle Babe felt her hips rock obediently into his dominating touch.

Again he wrenched a gasp from her against her will, and she screwed her eyes shut, shaking her head, trying to dislodge the insidious thoughts he was whispering into her mind. “N-NO! Never! I’ll never give in! I won’t! I…I…” But despite her denial, still her hips continued to thrust against his hand, and all too soon her protests trailed off. Her pussy was dripping, the pleasure from her over sensitized clit making her melt. She couldn’t believe how good he was making her feel, how readily he seemed to know just how to touch her, how to pleasure her, it made her head spin. Again his fingers released her, returning once more to her swollen labia to taunt and tease, only this time things felt different. He was seducing her, goading her with the focused assaults on her clit, making her focus on every stray touch in anticipation that the next one…would…

“AHH!” she cried, when he captured her again, her clit so swollen it felt like it might burst. “S-stop…please!” she begged. She was panting, her nipples forming engorged tents beneath her animal-skin bra. “Please, I can’t—I musn’t…!”

“What you want doesn’t matter anymore,” Matt rasped, “All that matters is what you need.”

Just when she was sure the pressure building inside her was going to crest, Matt’s fingers abandoned her sodden sex, leaving her thrusting against empty air. The throbbing pleasure had scarcely ebbed, even the friction of her soaked panties against her sex nearly enough to set her off, when she felt him take hold of the bottom of her costume, and slide it down her thighs.

“W-wait—no, what…what are you doing?” Dana moaned, blinking blearily down at the mercenary calmly disrobing her. Her panties pulled away from her sex trailing strands of her thick, clear nectar, her naked slit glistening in the flickering candlelight. She struggled to steady her breathing, to slow the too-rapid flutter of her heart, but her body wasn’t listening to her. He met no resistance as he slid her soaked garments off her legs, casting them aside before slipping his hand behind her back to untie the knot of her top. He ignored her breathless protests, pulling her bra away to leave her totally naked on the slaver’s bed.

“You are absolutely beautiful,” he breathed, in genuine awe. “It would be criminal to leave you clothed. I’ve beheld many beautiful women in my life, but you…you are a PRIZE.”

The tone of admiration in his voice made her flush, as much as she hated to admit it; maybe it was the drug (oh god, please let it be the drug!), but some deep part of her was proud to hear him say that. God what was wrong with her, she should be furious, not flattered! He was a monster, a slave trader…he…

He was spreading her thighs.

Dana’s eyes snapped open, staring dazedly down past her heaving chest to see Matt taking hold of her legs behind her knees, and steadily spreading her wide apart. She groaned, shaking her head in helpless dissent even as she felt him move in, felt the rough scratch of the stubble on his cheeks against her inner thighs. And then he kissed her…down there…

“OHH! Ooohhh…god…!” she cried, moaning, “Oh stop….ssstoooop…!”

But he had no intention of stopping. His lips and tongue spread apart her soaked labia, deftly locating the hard button of her sex and laving it with strong, steady strokes. If the pleasure from his fingers had been bad, this was infinitely worse. The heat of his mouth, the supple pressure of his tongue as it slowly circled and flicked over her rigid clit took the smoldering flames of her out of control desire and stoked them into a rage. She arched her back, moaning helplessly as he explored her defenseless cunt. She was beyond the point where she could hope to control the ragged sounds being wrenched from her delicate throat, beyond the point where the humiliation even registered; all she could focus on was his tongue, and the liquid intensity of sensation surging from her sex.

She barely lasted a minute.

The strength of her orgasm took her breath away. She cried out, her hips rising off the bed as he sucked her clit between his lips, flicking it with his tongue and driving her wild. He rode the thrashing of her body, pressing his hands into her thighs to hold her still while his tongue dragged the orgasm out for as long as she could stand. When finally he relented, she was panting raggedly, her whole body tingling in the aftermath of her submission. Her heavy, hooded eyes stared sightlessly up at the shadowy ceiling, her mind utterly devastated. She could barely think, she could scarcely breath.

She had never come that hard before. It was so intense, so horrible…so…amazing…

“Sensitive, are we?” came the throaty chuckle from between her legs, “Didn’t know you could feel like that, did you? But that was just the start. In fact, I think you’re about ready again…”

“W-what?” Dana gasped, staring in wide-eyed disbelief as his head once more descended, and she felt his tongue slide again into her simmering slit. He explored her relentlessly, masterfully dismantling what was left of her defenses. Having already forced one orgasm upon her, he seemed content to leave her clit alone for the time being, focusing instead on the length of her swollen lips, and the quivering opening of her sex. Whatever resistance Jungle Babe still harbored inside her was swiftly swept away by the sensual, skillful assault on her dripping cunt. Her weak protests faded even faster than before, replaced by the soft, sinful moans of a woman at the mercy of her desires. She felt adrift, lost in raging waves of sensations she had never experienced before, her cries of pleasure broken up only by her increasingly pleading whimpers.

“Ohhh, oh stop…don’t…stoooop…” she moaned, arching her back helplessly as once more the pleasure began to mount, “Not there, please, not…nnoohhh….MMmmmnnhhh….!”

He sucked her clit back into the heat of his mouth, circling it, lashing it with his tongue. Her eyes rolled back, a desperate groan her only dissent, and then she felt his fingers press against the opening of her vagina.

One finger, then two, slid effortlessly into her wildly clutching depths. Her pussy accepted them eagerly, clenching around them as the mercenary began to fuck them in and out. Her stomach seized, her breathing rapid and ragged. His began suckling hard on her clit, driving his fingers in faster and faster, and soon she was pleading, begging, but whether it was for him to stop or to NEVER stop even Dana wasn’t sure of anymore. Then the orgasm took her, and she cried out in mindless submission, writhing beneath his devilish attentions.

Once more he dragged it out of her, relenting only when she was sure she was going to pass out. He moved atop her, leaving his fingers buried in her grasping pussy, and waited for her swimming eyes to finally focus on his face.

“Good girl,” he said soothingly, his penetrating stare holding her transfixed, “You were made for this. It feels good to be taken, to be forced to submit. But you’re not satisfied, are you? Your pussy is still dripping; it’s still sucking on my fingers like it wants more. Well? Should I stop, Jungle Babe…or do you want more?”

His words were madness; there was no way she would ever accede to being taken against her will, to be turned into some mindless sextoy at the whims of men like him. But his fingers were moving again, stroking inside her. His thumb rubbed against her clit. They beckoned to her, calling to the wild, insatiable need the Climax drug had poisoned her with, and soon the pleasure began to take its toll. She shook her head, desperate to deny him, to defy his unnerving confidence, but his fingers…her pussy…she couldn’t think…

Sensing her wavering resolve, he smiled wickedly, and suddenly his mouth was against her neck. She moaned, shivering uncontrollably, as he nibbled, kissed, and sucked the will right out of her. Her hips rocked against his hand, her thighs spreading on their own.

It felt like a dream, like a horrible, erotic dream, when she heard her own voice whisper, “Yesss…! Oh yes…more….please…mooooore…!”

“That’s it, slut,” he breathed hotly against her throat, “Let me hear you beg. I don’t think my fingers are going to be enough for you any more. I think you need…this…”

His fingers abandoned her sodden sex, leaving her achingly empty, but a moment later she felt him shift atop her, heard the ominous, metallic sound of a zipper being lowered, and then something hot and hard was laying against her thigh.

She managed to swivel her head down, to force open her heavy eyes, and saw the swollen length of his cock jutting out from his dark uniform. Long, thick, and trailing glistening precum across her pale skin, the sight of it made her groan in helpless desire. She stared in breathless anticipation as he swiveled his hips, pressing his swollen cock head into the folds of her dripping cunt and covering himself in her wetness. By the time he was ready, she was gasping, thrashing beneath him, blindly trying to move her hips so that his cock might slip inside, but she wasn’t the one in control. He grabbed her knees, pushing them up beside her heaving breasts so that she was spread maximally beneath him, and only then, when he had her completely open and vulnerable, did he push inside.

Jungle Babe groaned as he filled her with his throbbing length. His cock dwarfed the sensation of being fucked by his fingers, spreading her wide, plunging in deep. In one thrust, he was fully inside her grasping cunt, stretching her in ways that set off jolts of submissive bliss inside her sex-addled mind. He held himself still for a moment, buried to the hilt, relishing the sensations of her pussy as it pulsed tightly around his cock. He pulled back, slowly dragging himself out of her until only the head of his cock remained inside her suddenly empty cunt, before slamming back in deep.

She came. She couldn’t help it; the shame, the helplessness, the utter eroticism of being held down by a man’s weight as he plundered her needy pussy with his turgid shaft, all conspired to send her tumbling over the edge. She cried out as she convulsed beneath him, her eyes rolling into her head, but his thrusting hips never stopped, never even slowed down. Again and again he drove into her, owning her, using her for his own perverse pleasure as if she were his property…and Dana loved it.

She loved feeling him inside her; loved the way his cock would drive the moans out of her with every dominating thrust; loved the way he bent her completely to his will.

It was the drug, some small, despairing part of her still wailed, it’s messing with your mind, making it impossible to resist him; this isn’t real; this isn’t YOU!

But…was it? Was it the drug making her raise her hips to meet his increasingly desperate thrusts? Was it the drug that made her wrap her legs around him, that pushed his head down so that he could suck on her tingling nipples? Or was he right, and she really was just a slut, begging to be fucked, hungry for sex, for pleasure…for cock?

She didn’t know anymore, and the rapid-fire orgasms exploding inside her made it impossible to think.

He was getting close. She could feel him swelling inside her, could hear his breathing growing tense and labored, and she rocked her hips to hasten his climax. She wanted, needed, to feel him erupt inside her, even as she feared what it would do to her already battered will. She’d belong to him, then; she’d be his willing toy, his eager slave, just like he said. She’d do anything to feel him inside her again, to have him fuck her like this again…but at the last second, with a roar of his own, he pulled free from her grasping pussy, leaving her so open, so empty. She almost sobbed at the loss, but then he was grabbing her hair, pulling her mouth to his cock, and she knew what he wanted.

She opened her lips, mewling obediently as he pushed the glistening head of his cock into her waiting mouth, and began sucking ravenously on him. The taste of her own pussy mingled with the masculine flavor of his swollen cock thrilled her, making her suck even harder. Her tongue caressed his throbbing length as she sought to swallow as much of him as she could. Her hunger, her eagerness, must have caught him by surprise because she heard him groan deeply, and then the first jet of semen spilled into her mouth.

She moaned, swallowing, working him with her mouth to coax as much out of him as she could. He was moaning too now, and for those brief moments the tables were turned; she was the aggressor, he her all-too willing prey, and she glowed with pride at how hard, and how much, she was making him cum.

So much! She could barely keep up, the salty richness of him filling her mouth. Her pussy quivered, and she moaned as the thought of so much cum filling not her mouth but her hot, empty sex almost enough to make her come again.

Finally, he pulled her away from him, and she reluctantly released his still-spurting member from her pouting lips. A final spasm sent a stray strand of semen to smear across her cheek and the corner of her mouth. Her tongue snaked out, as if with a mind of its own, to lick longingly at the spilled seed.

“Good girl,” he breathed, his pants starting to slow. She sighed, staring up at him dazedly, blushing at the compliment…but a second later, she froze.

Perhaps the drug had finally worn off, or perhaps the surge of her orgasms had finally flushed away its lingering effects, but all at once the full perversity of what she’d done came crashing down upon her. She blinked in confusion, staring uncomprehendingly up at the smirking Matt Rian, and then flushed with shame.

“Oh god,” she groaned, a hand flying to her lips, “Oh god what have I done?”

He smiled sympathetically, putting himself away and straightening his uniform. “Don’t be too hard on yourself,” he consoled, “You held out longer than most. In the end though, you’re only human…and it’s just like the old saying goes; the spirit might be willing, but the flesh is weak…and so wonderfully responsive.”

“You BASTARD!” she hissed, tears welling uncontrollably in her eyes as she moved to strike him, but her movements were still slowed, ungainly, and he had no trouble catching her wrist before the blow could reach him.

“Now now, acting like that isn’t going to get you a second date,” he taunted, “and I was just starting to like you.”

“You’re swine!” she snarled, the anger and humiliation almost more than she could bear, “When I get out of here, I swear to God I’m going to feed you to a fucking crocodile, piece by fucking piece!”

“Charming,” he sighed, grabbing hold of both her wrists and pinning them against her chest, “but I can’t leave an alley cat like you down here to cause trouble. We have a deadline to meet.”

“FUCK your deadline,” she snapped, “and fuck—AH!”

She gasped as she felt something sharp prick the outside of her thigh, a brief hiss reaching her ears. She looked down in time to see the stub-nosed hypodermic gun slip back into one of Matt’s side pockets, but a second later the world began rapidly and unstoppably spinning into black. She tried to scream at him, to curse, but the words only left her lips as an airy sigh.

“Sweet dreams, princess,” his distorted face murmured, “We’ll talk again soon.”

It was the last thing she heard before everything went completely dark.

* * *

Something jostled her hard, knocking her awake. Jungle Babe groaned, struggling in disoriented confusion as she tried to sit up. She blinked, wincing painfully as shards of light stabbed through her incredibly sensitive vision. All around her, the sounds of men and equipment rumbling about began to reach her awakening senses. She spun her head about as far as she could, her heart freezing in her chest. Oh god, where was she? Where was the other woman?

Her hands were bound in lengths of thick woven rope, as were her legs at the ankles and knees. A strip of cloth had been pulled across her mouth, gagging her, forcing her to breath through her nose. She was in the back of a truck, a repurposed pickup with a green canvas caravan cover over the bed. She lay on her side, the force of being thrown into the back knocking her awake. A few feet away from her she saw the senator’s wife, Mrs. McGuinness, similarly restrained. The woman was still out cold.

One by one she heard the sound of engines roaring to life, and doors slamming shut. Her blood ran cold.

They were leaving. The slavers had finished their preparations while she’d been unconscious and were now preparing to depart, to rendezvous with whoever their vile clients were and hand over Mrs. McGuiness. As for her, God only knew what they had in store for her.

She had to get loose.

She pulled at the ropes, testing them for any slack, any weakness, but the weave was surprisingly strong and the knots masterfully tight. She could barely move her arms, much less her legs. She began looking around, frantically searching for something she could use; a sharp snag of metal, a shard of glass, anything that might let her cut through the ropes, but the truck was futilely devoid of such chances.

Just then, she heard the sound of someone approach, followed by a flurry of motion as the flap of the caravan was pulled open, and a lithe, silver and blue form vaulted into the back.

Sable Myst looked quickly over her prisoners, making a final check before their departure. When her eyes settled upon Dana and found her awake, her lips curled into a satisfied smile.

“Awake at last?” Sable smirked at her, “Matt told me all about your little tryst. I have to say, he seems quite taken with you.” She approached, dropping to kneel beside Jungle Babe’s bound form. The restrained blonde glared at her angrily, but remained stone silent. Sable shrugged, “I might just let him keep you. He’s due for a bonus after this latest little escapade, and a lovely new toy might be just the thing.”

Her voice dropped to a conspiratory whisper, “Besides, from what I gather, you two seem to have really hit it off. You should be flattered; he can be very picky, that one.”

Jungle Babe felt herself going beet red, and hated herself for it. Sable Myst saw her embarrassment and laughed. “Well, I’ll leave you to stew on that. Try to stay comfortable, we have quite a drive ahead of us, and the roads, where there ARE roads, are absolutely pathetic.”

She rose to leave, pushing the tarp out of the way before glancing back at Jungle Babe over her shoulder. “Someone will be in to chaperone you two shortly. One of my men, Louis LaBoune, was more than happy to volunteer for the role.”

Her eyes narrowed mischievously at the sight of Dana’s wide-eyed panic.

“I’ve cautioned Mr. LaBoune that Mrs. McGuinness is off limits so close to her transfer, but you my dear are under no such auspices. I’m certain you’ll have no trouble…entertaining Mr. LaBoune.”

She waved casually. “Ta.”

And with that she was gone, and the only sound left in the back of the truck was the thundering pulse of Jungle Babe’s racing heart and the strained pant of her breathing.

The thought of that barbarian, that mountain of a man, being in here with her filled her with almost primal terror. He and Rian might both be men for hire, but there was something in LaBoune that spoke of a wretchedness few men could match. Restrained as she was, she’d have absolutely no way of defending herself.

She tried to slow her breathing. She tried to focus, listening, reaching out with her mind. All around her, the wild lurked; surely somewhere there had to be something that could come to her aid. But try as she might, her mind was still horribly muddled, her wildspeak lost in the mental fog. She was mentally gagged just as surely as she was physically. There would be no help there.

She groaned in despair, pulling uselessly at the ropes binding her hands, and finding them just as unyielding as before.

“Maybe this is it,” she thought bleakly, “Maybe after all I’ve done, this is really how it ends.”

She slammed her hands against the truck bed, where they rebounded impotently. She felt the rage burning inside her, and screamed at herself for her stupidity, for her weakness, for her willingness to give up. She had to think. She had to try something—anything—if not for her, then for the woman lying just feet away from her, who was about to be sold off for god only knew what purpose.

She had to—

Just then, the sounds from the gathering train of slavers suddenly shifted. The middling noises of men going about their menial tasks was suddenly replaced by rushing footfalls, and shouts of alarm. Jungle Babe raised her head, craning her neck to try and see anything beyond the flap at the back of the truck, when all of the sudden the rapid-fire scream of a machine gun split the air.

All at once it sounded like hell itself had broken loose outside. The first blast of gunfire was immediately joined by dozens more, as the mercenaries outside opened fire with reckless abandon. Bullet holes perforated the canvas cover above her head, and bullets that sounded like angry wasps lanced dangerously close. She dropped flat, grateful for the raised sides of the truck but knowing full well that the manufactured steel would be no match for automatic ammunition.

What the hell was going on?

There was a flurry of sounds from the truck cab, followed by the sound of the engine kicking to life. The truck had scarcely turned over before the driver heaved it into gear, and they began tearing forward. Jungle Babe shouted through her gag as the sudden motion sent both her and Mrs. McGuinness careening madly in the back of the truck, but the driver only accelerated further.

Sable had left the back flap of the cover untethered, and as the wind of their passage whipped it to and fro wildly, Jungle Babe was able to see something of what was happening outside. They were charging away from the hacienda, passing men and vehicles in a mad dash. Some of the men were running back the way they’d came, rifles brandished in their arms. They passed others attempting to run the opposite direction, and even in the brief flashes Jungle Babe glimpsed she saw the sheer panic in their eyes.

Confusion and terror raced through her, but the sudden shift in events galvanized her back into action. She rolled onto her back, and forced her knees into the space behind her bound hands, bracing them against the ropes around her wrists. She sucked in a deep breath, bracing herself for the pain, and simultaneously pulled with her arms while she pushed out with her legs.

The ropes around her wrists tore into her exposed skin, sending white-hot pain searing down her arms, but she couldn’t stop. She had to break free. If ever she needed her superhuman endurance, it was now.

The truck hit a huge bump, knocking her up and back against the tailgate, and she screamed as something slammed hard into her back. Her arms ached from her attempt, but as soon as she could she forced her knees back in place and tried again.

She pulled until tears filled her eyes and the pain throbbed in her ears. It felt futile; the ropes were just too strong, and she was hurting herself to no gain whatsoever, but just when she was about to give up, she felt something give. There was a sudden snap, as strands of the weave began to tear, and Jungle Babe felt a surge of hope.

She could barely feel her hands anymore, but she redoubled her efforts, pushing as hard as she could. One by one, she felt more strands starting to give way, felt the bindings around her wrists start to slacken—

—and then vehicle hit something massive, something totally unyielding, and the back of the truck was thrown high into the air.

There was a surreal moment where all she perceived was this strange, momentary weightlessness as she and the truck moved languidly through open space…and then they collided with the ground, and once more she was violently thrown aside, this time impacting against the canvas tarp.

The cover tore free from its moorings, but thankfully it seemed to have absorbed the majority of the force of the crash, acting almost like an airbag for her and the still-insensate Mrs. McGuinness. They were hurled away from the vehicle, which had been knocked totally on its side, landing amidst the wreckage of the canvas tarp maybe a dozen feet away. It billowed down around them, almost covering her completely.

Her ears were ringing, and a streak of something warm was running down her forehead and into her left eye, blinding her. The gag had been wrenched loose, freeing her face. She panted in pain, afraid to move but terrified to stay still. Gingerly she tried to raise her head, and was grateful to discover that she hadn’t broken her neck in the crash. She looked around in confusion, trying to see what they’d hit.

They were still in the open fields around the hacienda. The sky was turning a deep purple as world sank into dusk, but in the waning orange light she saw billowing clouds of dust and the hazy, shadowy forms of men lurching about in utter bedlam. The truck she’d been riding in had collided with another vehicle just ahead of them, a jeep that itself had its hood smashed in. But there was no sign of anything that could have caused the crash; there were no rocks, no trees, nothing that could have devastated a vehicle so badly as to cause that much damage, so what—

It was then that she saw it; or rather, her. Through the swirling mass of dust and smoke, a figure charged like a blur of lightning, flashing crimson and gold. It fell upon a group of men, who screamed in panic, and once more the sound of gunfire pierced the air. It only lasted a second though, because the men were suddenly being hurled in three directions at once, arcing through the air as if they weighed nothing at all.

Jungle Babe saw the wind whipping dark, curled tresses as the figure sprang into motion again, this time dispatching a man even as he reached for a fallen rifle. A stunning red boot smashed into the fallen weapon before his hands could reach it, splintering wood and rending metal. He barely managed to scream in protest before she flung him up and away to land distantly in the trees.

Jungle Babe could only stare in silent awe. This wasn’t a human being, this was a goddess; an angry valkyrie come down from heaven itself to inflict righteous wrath upon the world of men. The dust clouds began to settle, and for the first time she saw clearly the brilliant red and blue of her costume, the golden bracers adorning her arms, and immediately she knew.

It was Ms. Americana.

But before Jungle Babe could call out to her, another voice cut through the gathering twilight, one laced with venom and dripping with icy malice.

“Do you have any IDEA how much trouble I went through to organize all this!?” Sable Myst snapped, and Jungle Babe turned her head to see the silver and blue villainess stalking towards them through the debris. Her eyes were fixed on the figure of Ms. Americana, and even from where she lay Jungle Babe could feel the utter loathing in her gaze. The grass at her feet crinkled and cracked, freezing as she stepped across, leaving a trail of white in her wake. “I plan for weeks, spend a fortune securing safe passage, hire a veritable army of useless, simpering fools to put it all in motion, and STILL you arrive! Ten thousand miles from that wretched city and STILL you hound me!”

“If you thought you could run, Sable, you were sadly mistaken,” Ms Americana replied evenly. She returned the villainess’ freezing glare with utter conviction. “Where is the senator’s wife? Hand her over, turn yourself in, and I promise you will be unharmed.”

“How gracious of you,” Sable Myst growled, “You’ll understand, of course, if I politely decline!”

She snapped out her hand, and a blast of glittering frost cut through the air like a lance aimed squarely at Ms. Americana’s chest. Jungle Babe expected her to dodge, and felt her heart jump into her throat when the statuesque amazon did not; instead, she turned into Sable’s attack, and the icy blast connected with her head on.

There was a blinding flash of white and azure as Sable’s attack connected, filling the air with a screaming whine and crystalline crackling, and for a second Jungle Babe feared the worst. A moment later though and her eyes adjusted to the glare, and she saw that at the last second, Ms. Americana had thrown up her arms, crossing her bracers in front of her to absorb the frigid beam. It splashed and splintered against her golden bands, freezing grass and rocks solid where the stray shots connected with the ground, but amazingly nothing seemed to be getting past to Ms. Americana herself.

The snarl on Sable’s face was one of familiar contempt, but not of surprise. Then Ms. Americana took a step forward, and another, walking into the path of the beam.

Recognizing the uselessness of her attack, Sable dropped her arm, and the icy ray dissipated instantly. Curls of thick white vapor smoked off of Ms. Americana’s golden bands, a thin white frost glistening on them in the waning sunlight. She let her arms down easily, the quiet confidence of her stance projecting nothing if not an air of imminent victory. Jungle Babe found herself staring in dumbstruck awe, momentarily forgetting about the frayed ropes still binding her wrists and legs. She’d heard stories about this woman, seen fleeting glimpses of her on the news, but it all paled in comparison to seeing her in person.

She was astounding, almost mythic. Too many people were quick to claim the title of ‘super hero’, whether or not they really deserved it, but this woman left no doubt. She was the real deal.

Even Sable seemed to grudgingly acknowledge the caliber of her opposition; her fingers flexed tensely at her sides, as if she was mentally testing any number of possible attacks, but Ms. Americana had just endured the full brunt of her power and seemed utterly unfazed. It was then that Jungle Babe noticed the sheen of sweat beading on Sable’s forehead, and the way the color seemed to be draining from her face. Moisture was perspiring down the surface of her costume, as her innate cold attracted the dampness in the humid jungle air. Something was amiss, and Ms Americana seemed to notice it too.

“A little warmer down here than you’re used to, isn’t it Sable?” she said, “You’ve been holed up in this jungle for what, about a week now? This heat must be awfully taxing on your delicate disposition.”

“SHUT UP!” Sable screamed, lashing out again. This time, the frost from her hand swirled and gathered as it flew, coalescing into foot-long, wickedly sharp icicles that exploded forward with the force of a shotgun blast. This attack Ms. Americana did dodge, sidestepping swiftly to let the barrage of ice hurtle harmlessly past. Sable was quick to follow, piercing the air with another volley and forcing Ms. Americana to dodge again.

They fell into a deadly dance, with the red-and-blue heroine weaving back and forth, trying to press in while staying one step ahead of the icy villainess’ baleful cascade. The speed at which the two were moving was remarkable, and if Sable Myst was indeed suffering from exposure to the warm climate her ferocity gave no such indication. It was a long moment before Jungle Babe remembered that she was still bound, and that she needed to tear herself away from the riotous battle long enough to tear herself free.

From the direction of the house she could hear the sounds of men shouting and rallying, and of engines revving up. Whatever chaos and disorder Ms. Americana’s unexpected arrival had sown in their ranks had fled, and it wouldn’t be long before their regrouped force came to bear down on them. For all her power and skill, Jungle Babe doubted even Ms. Americana could successfully fight off a legion of mercenaries AND Sable Myst at the same time. She had to get loose.

She tested the coils binding her wrists again, and almost burst with desperate hope when she felt the slack that had never been there before. With the drumbeat of approaching boots spurring her on, she rolled onto her back, planted her knees firmly behind the knot at her wrists, and took a deep breath.

With as much power as she could muster, she forced her muscles to explode into motion, pulling and pushing with all her might. Her wrists, already worn raw from her earlier attempts, screamed in protest, but she persisted. One by one, the chords around her hands began snapping, each release setting off a gush of elation inside her that helped drown out the white-hot pain. At last, with a cry of relief, Jungle Babe felt her arms fly loose, coils of rope falling around her. She wanted to weep, her wrists burned and her hands were numb, but she didn’t have the time for that now. Ms. Americana was closing in on Sable Myst, whose wan features now looked positively ashen. The volleys of ice were coming slower now, the shards fewer and ill-formed. Their battle was coming to a swift close, and both of them could foresee the outcome.

It was then that Jungle Babe saw Sable Myst’s hand reach into a hidden pocket in her short cloak, and retrieve a small, silver cylinder.

The movement was so quick, so practiced and fluid, that had it not been for her fortunate vantage point apart from the battle, Dana was sure she would have missed it entirely. Clearly Ms. Americana had, for the valiant heroine continued her weaving approach, heedless of the danger now clutched in Sable Myst’s gloved hand.

“Oh god no,” Dana muttered to herself, cold realization sinking in. She didn’t know about the canister; Ms. Americana was walking into a trap!

With a curse, she set to work on the bindings at her knees and feet, but her hands were trembling from pain, and she could barely articulate the movement of her fingers enough to challenge the knots. Her eyes kept darting furtively from her task to the dueling women twenty feet away. Her heart slammed in her chest. Every moment seemed to drag on, as her fingers flailed ineffectually against the firm ties holding her legs in place, and as her ears burned waiting for that sinister hiss that would announce the end she was dreading most of all.

Work dammit, she hissed angrily to herself. Stay calm. Stay focused. You have to get free; you have to do it NOW!

Just then she heard a pained shout come from the two women, and snapped her head up in time to see Sable Myst reeling backward from Ms. Americana’s stinging backhand strike. She staggered, almost falling to the ground, but in a flash of motion the stunning amazon lashed out her hand and grabbed hold of the falling villainess’ collar.

“Fight’s over, Sable,” Ms. Americana panted, straightening and pulling Sable Myst up with her. “Call off your men; there’s been enough violence for one day.”

Jungle Babe saw the look flash across Sable’s face as she rose, the victorious smirk, her eyes narrowed in hatred; she saw the flash of silver in her hand. Her fingers gave up their fruitless efforts, and she looked around frantically for something—anything—!

Her eyes settled suddenly upon the fallen remains of her wrist bindings; a knot of black rope, the frayed ends dangling away from it like the crushed legs of a massive spider, and she launched herself towards it. Bound and awkward, she contorted her body, rolling and grabbing the rope in one motion before wrenching herself to her knees, and hurling the mass with all of her might.

She had precious little time to take proper care, and her aim was off. She had meant to strike the cylinder out of Sable’s hand, but had miscalculated the weight of the knot. The throw went awry, and instead of finding its target, Dana watched in horror as the rope hurtled towards Ms. Americana’s head.

Everything seemed to happen at once.

She heard herself scream, “LOOK OUT!” at the very instant Ms. Americana caught the movement in the air out of the corner of her vision, turning her head in time to see the rope coming right at her. At the same time, Sable Myst’s victorious cry of “Got you!” rang out, and the cylinder was in her hand, pointed right at Ms. Americana’s unsuspecting face.

Reflexively, the dark-haired heroine snapped her head back to avoid the knot that came careening at her, inadvertently dodging the plume of insidious pink smoke that blasted out of Sable’s weapon, aimed at the space that Ms. Americana’s head had just recently occupied.

Jungle Babe looked on in wide eyed shock; Ms. Americana’s shocked, blue eyes flew from the dissipating cloud of poisoned vapor to the still-smoking device Sable held in her hand; and Sable Myst’s coloring, already a sickly pale, went absolutely white.

“No, NO!!” Sable Myst screamed in frustration as Ms. Americana snatched the tool out of her hands, and hurled it off into the dusky distance. Jungle Babe finally remembered to exhale, too shocked, too frayed to say anything, but feeling a massive wave of relief well up inside her as she collapsed to her side on the brittle yellowing grass.

Her eyes briefly connected with Sable Myst’s, and for a brief moment, she felt the villainess’ searing, ice-cold stare burn into hers. She said nothing, but the look spoke volumes.

“You’ll pay. Mark my words you meddling bitch, you will PAY.”

“No more tricks, Sable!” Ms. Americana snapped, wrenching the smaller woman up so that her toes barely grazed the ground. “This is over!”

“I-I think not,” Sable Myst winced, glaring at Ms. Americana, but the strength seemed to have seeped from her body, for her arms hung limply at her sides. “You forget, you pompous whore…I never lose.”

Just then there was the sound of two loud, distant pops, and heavy canisters landed on the ground beside Ms. Americana and Sable Myst, one barely six feet from where Jungle Babe lay prone. At once the shells began releasing a thick, choking white smoke that stung Dana’s eyes and made her throat burn. She coughed, turning away from it as best she could, and heard the same from the two women standing apart from her. There was a pandemonium of movement as the vanguard of the mercenaries reached them, accompanied by muffled shouts as commands were issued and shots were fired. Dana couldn’t see what was happening, could barely see the ground inches away from her face, but all at once she felt someone grab hold of her waist and haul her bodily up off the ground.

She lashed out instinctively, aiming an elbow where she expected the mercenary’s head to be, but felt a firm yet gentle hand catch the blow.

“Hey, hold on, it’s ok!” she heard a female voice whisper reassuringly, “They’re high-tailing it out of here, their tails between their legs. I’ve got you. You’re safe.”

The smoke began to clear, and Dana blinked her burning, watery eyes to see Ms. Americana’s face looking into hers with clear concern. Dana was panting, and looked around in confusion. Sure enough, she could see the last of the mercenary’s vehicles trailing dust as they tore away, heading deep into the black jungle.

Sable Myst was nowhere to be seen.

“W-what—what happened…where—?” she croaked, coughing, but Ms. Americana shushed her.

“Don’t talk, you’re injured.” Her hands gingerly touched on the ugly, raw-red rings around Jungle Babe’s wrists. “They used the distraction of the smoke to retrieve their boss and carve out an escape. They were more interested in fleeing than fighting, it seems. Lucky us. Here, let me get you free.”

She helped Dana balance on her feet, and quickly pulled her knots apart. Dana’s knees trembled, and her stance was wobbly, so she was forced to lean on the taller woman for support.

“Thank you,” she murmured, looking about, “Did they get…where is Mrs. McGuinness…?”

As way of answer, Ms. Americana gestured a little ways away, and Jungle Babe saw the senator’s wife laying amidst a heap of fallen tarp, bruised, but breathing, and still mercifully unconscious.

“She’s safe,” Ms. Americana said, breathing a sigh of relief, “I was terrified; it was just this morning that I was able to pinpoint this location, and I feared by the time I arrived you’d all be long gone. I was almost too late. I knew they had one prisoner, but I had no idea they had you, too.”

She looked at Dana, her eyes creasing with concern, and the tone of her voice changing noticeably. “Did they hurt you?” she asked gravely, “I assure you, I’m going to track them down and bring every one of those bastards to justice.”

Seeing the look in her eye, Dana blinked in confusion—and then realized to her utter embarrassment that she was still stark naked.

“Oh god!” she sobbed, blanching, her hands dropping down to cover her considerable assets, and only partially succeeding. “My clothes, they took them—oh god, I can’t fucking believe this—”

“Hey, hey, it’s ok!” Ms. Americana soothed, “Don’t worry, we’ll find you something to cover up with.”

When Dana had finally gotten a hold of her embarrassment, Ms. Americana said, “That was quite a throw back there. If it hadn’t been for you, Sable would have definitely got me with that…whatever that was.”

She was looking at Dana intently, as if searching her memory for something. Then it seemed to hit her, and her eyes widened in recognition. “Hold on, I know you—I’ve seen pictures on the news, you aren’t—?”

“Jungle Babe,” Dana said, wincing a smile, “At least that’s what the papers keep calling me.”

Ms. Americana glanced down briefly at her barely-concealed nudity. “Oh, um…I can see why…”

“Thanks for saving me,” Dana interrupted, wishing to god that her first actual encounter with someone like Ms. Americana could have at least involved her being clothed and desperate to change the subject, “Sable caught me with that weird gas she tried to use on you. Before you arrived, things—things weren’t looking so good…”

“I’m so glad!” Ms. Americana beamed, her voice clear and sweet. “Though in the end it looks like you saved us both, so don’t worry about any thanks. It’s always nice to meet a fellow champion of justice!”

Dana looked at her incredulously. Champion of…justice? Did…did she talk that way all the time? But there was an earnestness there, a sincerity that was so heartfelt it was disarming, and Dana couldn’t help but hazard a shaky smile back. “Um…yeah, the feeling’s mutual. You’re Ms. Americana. I’ve, uh, heard a lot about you. Kind of wish we could have met under less…revealing circumstances.”

“I’ve not always had the best of luck with that myself,” Ms. Americana said sympathetically. She reached down, extending her hand. “Call me Brenda.”

Jungle Babe looked at the offered hand and blinked in surprise, taken slightly aback by the woman’s apparent guilelessness. The hesitation only lasted a second though, and she returned the gesture, feeling Ms. Americana’s fingers clasp warmly around her still shaky hand. “Dana.”

Ms. Americana smiled, then looked past her towards the dusty trail the caravan had taken into the depths of the jungle. Night was falling rapidly, and already what little they could see of the ruts in the road were vanishing into inky darkness. “There’s no way we can follow them now, and I’m not sure it would do much good to try; Sable Myst is a hell of an operator, and she has a real knack for disappearing. Odds are she’s already calling in a favor, and will be out of the country before dawn. She can run for now; I’ll catch up with her soon enough.”

Her blue eyes returned to Jungle Babe, smiling warmly, “Well Dana, what say we find you some clothes and then get the hell out of here?”

Feeling the first actual bit of relief since arriving in this awful place, Jungle Babe found herself returning the smile, saying gratefully. “I like that plan; I like it a lot.”

* * *

Back in the cave, Dana’s voice finally fell quiet. The story that had unfolded out of her, rather than making her feel any better, only seemed to have filled her with pained grief. It had clarified in her mind the image of her friend, reminding her with naked panic that she was out there somewhere, in the mists, in the grip of a monster.

She felt small. She felt hopeless.

She felt angry.

Anna’s voice cut through the dark, startling her, snapping her back to reality. “Did you even catch her? This…Sable Myst?”

Dana swallowed hard, trying to get the rushing blood in her ears under control.

“No,” she said finally. “We worked together for a little while after that, trying to track her down, but she had covered her tracks too well. All of the sudden she was gone, like a ghost, like—”

“Like mist in a breeze,” Anna offered, her voice thoughtful. Dana nodded quietly, unconsciously shifting more tightly against the girl’s naked back. Her heart was hammering, and her breathing was strangely erratic. Was something wrong with her? She couldn’t be certain; it was probably just the story, it always brought up so many feeling inside her, and she should have been more careful about letting herself go back to that place. She shut her eyes, and tried to focus on something, anything, else.

The smell of Anna’s hair wafted to her nose, sweet, like rain. She took a deeper breath, and found it almost intoxicating. “Yeah,” she whispered distantly, “Like that…”

Behind them, tendrils of sinuous, pale green fog criss-crossed over the stone floor of the cave, sweeping, searching. The ones that had found her warm flesh flowed towards her all the more hungrily, licking along her exposed skin with ravenous delight. Jungle Babe was hopelessly unaware of it all; so immersed she was in recounting her story that she never noticed the demonic wisps that even now were touching and caressing her neck, her back, and the supple curves of her long legs.

She might not have been aware of them, but her body absolutely was; everywhere they touched her skin tingled. A simmering fever was glowing just beneath the surface, making her acutely sensitive to the roughness of the cold rock, and its utter opposite; the yielding, warm body of the younger woman she held in a loose embrace.

The story had inflamed her anger, and the fog was feeding off of it, twisting it into something else.

Jungle Babe shifted uncomfortably. Her head felt fuzzy. She kept getting distracted by the sensation of her breasts pressing into Anna’s back, the way her strangely sensitive nipples kept sliding against her smooth skin. Between her legs, her pussy was positively dripping, only adding to her muddled confusion. God, she was so hot…she didn’t want to think that recounting how she was drugged and taken against her will, first by the malicious Sable Myst and then again by her wicked henchman, could turn her on so much. It never had before, but something about this time was different. Maybe it was the stress, or her mind just reeling from the horrors they had already experienced and desperately seeking solace…

…or maybe it was the sweet, innocent thing she held in her arms…

Anna felt Jungle Babe fidgeting behind her, and pushed herself back into the warmth of her body reassuringly. She felt awful for what Dana had gone through, but now at least she could understand a little better why she was so determined to help her friend. Ms. Americana had saved her from what surely would have been a life of slavery and forced subservience, if she had been allowed to live at all. No wonder she was so determined to return the favor.

The younger woman sighed, squeezing her legs together absentmindedly; she hated to admit it, but hearing Dana talk about what had happened, and so vividly, it had awoken something in her. The warmth from Dana’s body had dispelled the tremors that had claimed her since the downpour that had driven them into the cave, and now she felt content to just ease back into her, letting the softness and closeness lull her gently.

It felt nice. Really nice. When Anna felt the brush of something against the back of her neck, she almost thought she’d imagined it.

But then she felt it again; the unmistakable feeling of lips, soft and full, kissing the slope of her throat. She shivered, and not from the cold.

“D…Dana?” Anna said uncertainly, “What…what are you doing…?”

“You’re skin…” came the throaty response whispering in her ear, “It…it’s so…smooth…”

Once again Anna felt those lips on her, kissing harder this time; nibbling against her neck. She gasped. “W-wait…! That’s—that’s not—”

“Just relax,” she heard Dana murmur thickly, as strong, firm arms pulled her more tightly into her embrace. Anna looked down in shock as one of Jungle Babe’s hands slipped down to brazenly take possession of one of her breasts, while her other hands fell lower…

“OH!” Anna whimpered, jumping as she felt the brush of Dana’s fingers against her abdomen. She twisted, trying to avoid her searching hands, growing increasingly alarmed and confused. “Dana—Dana stop, what are you—nnnhh!!”

She winced as a Dana’s fingers found her sensitive nipple, claiming it in their grip. Far-too-pleasant jolts of sensation raced down her spine as that swollen nub was pulled, twisted…she found herself choking back a moan that almost spilled past her parted lips.

“Did it turn you on?” Dana whispered in her ear, making her heart skip a beat. “Did hearing about how I was seduced, how I was nearly enslaved, make you hot?” Anna could hear the strangeness in Dana’s voice, the airiness, the distance…something was wrong; something was dreadfully, dreadfully wrong! She tried to slip away, tried to get loose herself from her friend’s sultry embrace, but lying prone as she was she had next to no leverage.

She squirmed, trying to ignore the way her breast was being fondled, and the seductive warmth that was spreading through her, crying, “Dana—Dana, stop—something’s wrong, something’s—oh—ooohhh!!”

Dana’s fingers had slipped between her legs, bullying apart her slender thighs to find the hot, wet slit at their junction. Anna felt them touch her there, and the air suddenly drove from her lungs as Dana’s slender digits caressed her needy sex. This time she did moan, arcing her back. Behind her, Dana chuckled.

“Don’t lie to me. You’re soaking wet…and so am I…”

Anna couldn’t believe what was happening, but at the same time, she couldn’t deny the pleasure she felt herself sinking into. Dana’s fingers moved with confidence and purpose, teasing her, wringing out the most scintillating sensations and making her gasp. Her thighs began to part on their own, all the better for the hand playing with her trembling cunt to find her rigid clit, and giving it a loving squeeze.

“OOH! OOhhh…god….!” Anna moaned, melting. She kept moaning helplessly, but Dana was beyond the point of hearing her.

The mist played her like an instrument. She was a puppet now…and outside, the fog was only growing thicker…

Jungle Babe — In the Clutches of Cernunnos

Chapter 10: The Beast Within

Sandra stood atop a jutting pillar of stone, fifteen feet above the rocky, shrub-marked terrain of the dark hills. Above her the clouds roiled and churned in dark, swirling eddies, while rain fell in a constant, droning downpour. The air was alive with the sounds of the storm; the rumble of thunder both near and distant, the steady hiss of the droplets all about her, and the trickling music of a thousand newborn streams snaking their way down the pebble-strewn ground.

Beneath her, as if mirroring its greater cousins in the heavens above, a thick carpet of deep, swirling mist coiled and chased along the hills, moving with almost preternatural vivacity. The imagery was almost otherworldly; clouds above, clouds below, and in between only the great, streaming storm—

—And her.

She turned her face up to the water, elating as she felt it kissing her skin, soaking into her great mane of golden hair. Her tail swished through the air behind her in unrestrained joy.

Her golden eyes opened, the narrow slits of her pupils focusing immediately in the dusky dim. Every one of her senses was being bombarded by the storm; her skin was humming as the rain streaked down her naked body, her ears rang with the glorious cacophony of the wild chorus all around her, and the smell of water and earth and sparking lightning made every breath she took a tapestry in and of itself.

This is what it was like to feel alive.

She felt strong. Vibrant. The harried, fearful beat of a weak, human female in her breast was gone, replaced instead with the ferocious, roaring heart of a lion. Her chest felt so full, she wanted to run, to fight, to fuck, to howl—all at once.

How drastically things had changed; how swiftly her she had been ripped from her old, stale life only to be reborn as this: a goddess, magnificent and terrible. In the face of all this, how could she feel sadness, or regret? For what? For the sad, predictable life she had left behind? For the people who purported to be her friends, but who were all to a person liars and deceivers, wearing masks of respectability while keeping their true selves, their dark and frightened and selfish selves, carefully tucked out of sight? She had been one of them, been just like them; bobbing through each day like a cork lost at sea, aimless and pointless and ultimately useless.

Until He had arrived; until He had torn into her life and taken her and made her his own; until everything she thought had been was burned away in the unquenchable heat of his lust and desire; until even her frail human form had bowed to the strength he imparted and assumed the great and fearful countenance it now bore.

He had seen into her soul and unleashed it upon the world, and she was forever in his debt.

Her Master.

She shivered, though she was not at all cold, and looked once more upon the harrowing stormscape gusting before her. His orders resonated in her mind like a ceaseless peal of thunder: hunt.

Her quarry was nearby; the mists had told her of her whereabouts. Before the night was out she would fulfill her Master’s wish, and return to his throne with her prize in hand. Not once did the prospect of failure ever cross her mind. How could it? With the storm inside her raging just as strong as the storm without, the only thought that crossed Sandra’s mind was of pure, unstoppable victory.

At last she gave in to the charging emotions within her and with a great, full laugh leapt from the rock tower, flipping and rolling fearlessly into the storm. The mists swallowed her whole, and at once the lioness vanished in pursuit.

The whore, she thought gleefully to herself, is mine!

* * *

Meanwhile, in a cave not too far away, a storm of an entirely different kind was glowering into wicked force. Echoing slightly in the natural hollow of the rock, a duet of breathless pants and reluctant moans lost itself in the the sound of rushing water and streaming rain.

With only the sporadic flash of lightning outside and the weird, eerie luminescence of the sinister mist to illuminate the cave, clinging darkness and hushed shadows enveloped the two lithe, pale forms locked in a torrid embrace.

Dana held Anna’s smaller body close, pressing into her from behind. The bespelled heroine’s eyes were heavy-lidded, dazed and dreamy as she slipped further and further under the mist’s seductive influence. She moaned hungrily as the feeling of Anna’s hot, soft body thrilled her, stoking the wicked flames of her lust into white-hot impatience.

Somewhere deep inside her a small, rational voice protested weakly, but the roiling thrum of her desire drowned it out. It was so hard to think about anything besides the insistent throbbing of her clit, and the way Anna’s smell—sweet…young…waiting—made her head positively spin. In one hand she held one of Anna’s jutting breasts, soft and warm and so deliciously pliant, with a nipple that pressed so stiffly against her rolling palm. Dana couldn’t resist the temptation, and seized the hard nub between her fingers and began to assault it with knowing skill. The results were immediate; Anna’s voice rose immediately into a whinning gasp, her back arching to press her breast more fully into Dana’s grip. The auburn-haired girl began tossing her head in dismay.

“OOH! Ohh Dana…noooo! P-please, d-don’t—don’t do…t-that…let me go…I…” she stammered, trying desperately to keep her head even as the sordid pleasure threatened to pull her into its fevered depths. Something was wrong here, something was terribly wrong! Dana was her friend, she would never do this to her, she would never….r-rape her…oh…oh god…!

To make matters worse, Dana’s other hand was not idle either. Even as her delectable captive struggled to resist the assault on her tits, her other hand had snuck its way between her tightly-pressed thighs, and was doing absolutely wicked things to her shamefully inflamed pussy. Her own wetness coated Dana’s fingers, letting them glide so silkily between her trembling folds to find the hot, hard little button of her clit, where they caressed, and pressed, and circled with all the practice and skill that only another woman could have.

And her body responded helplessly, almost eagerly, to the entranced heroine’s insidious fingers. As much as she wanted to fight, as much as she knew she had to fight, the way Dana was touching her felt—it felt amazing. She couldn’t remember ever feeling so turned on, so hopelessly receptive, to another person’s advances before, and yet here she was, her nipples absolutely throbbing, and her pussy flushing so, so wet. Her face was so hot she had to shut her eyes, but the welcoming darkness only made everything ten times worse.

She couldn’t deny that she had feelings for the blonde bombshell molesting her so skillfully; it had started as something like hero worship, but had swiftly grown stronger, deeper, ever since this horrific chapter had started. It was more than a crush, more than infatuation. She honestly thought she might have feelings for her, and the whole thing was just so crazy and confusing and oh god why did it have to feel so damn good…!

Then Dana’s fingers scissored around her clit, trapping it between slender digits which began to saw back and forth in alternating directions on either side, and Anna, innocent Anna, went rigid.

“AAAAHHH!!” she cried out, quivering back into the mouthwatering softness of Jungle Babe’s breasts as they pressed into her bare skin. Her hands, which till this point had been pawing uselessly against Dana’s dominating arms, wilted to the ground, and she suddenly found that the strength needed to keep her slick thighs shut was slipping…slipping away…

Completely unbidden, they began to part for her partner’s conquering hand, as exquisite pleasure lit its way up her body. She wanted to sputter another protest, another abject denial, but the only sound that escaped her full, panting lips was a weak and helpless moan.

“That’s it,” Dana whispered airily into her sensitive ear, “Just like that. Let me make you feel good, Anna, please…oh I want you…I want you sooo bad…!”

Goosebumps erupted all over the poor girl’s body as Dana’s low whisper ran straight to her loins. Her clit was throbbing, and Dana seemed to know just how soft, or hard, she wanted to be touched. But it was wrong! Something was making her do this! Oh god she had to stay focused, she had to, she shouldn’t—couldn’t give in…they were in danger…so much…danger…!

“D-danaaa,” Anna moaned, desperately trying to shake aside the cobwebs of lust spinning in her mind, “Dana—you have to…stop…oh please…! S-stop…ssto—MMPH!”

Jungle Babe silenced her by turning her head and enveloping Anna’s pink lips in a wet, demanding kiss. The move caught her totally off-guard, and she failed to react in time to stop her erstwhile guardian’s tongue from forcing its way deep into her parted mouth.

At the same time, Dana’s fingers began strumming against her clit, faster and faster.

Anna whimpered breathlessly into Dana’s subjugating kiss, her head spinning, her body just…melting…Her eyes, which had bolted open in shock at the first of the kiss, now began to flutter, to slowly drift shut, as Dana’s tongue marauded unstoppably against her own. There was a primal hunger to it, so that Anna felt like she was being branded somehow, claimed, and the feeling made her pussy just flood. She mewled helplessly, opening herself more to the aggression of the kiss, wanting instinctively to just be so receptive….so…submissive

As if sensing Anna’s forbidden yearning, Dana did not disappoint. She chuckled as the poor girl fell victim to her sensual assault, feeling her resistance utterly collapse as the kiss overrode her senses. She stopped struggling, falling limply into Dana’s embrace as the dance of their tongues relentlessly stripped away her will.

With feline grace, Dana eased her onto her back so that she could climb atop the prone beauty, never breaking the kiss, and never letting her clever fingers leave her boiling slit. Soon Dana was lying atop her, their breasts brushing tantalizingly against each other as her head was cradled in a possessive grip, held her still so that Jungle Babe could have her way with her mouth. Somehow her legs had been spread apart, and now with Dana’s voluptuous form between them, there was no way for her to stop the older woman’s fingers from just stroking….stroking her soooo….goood….!

Dana finally released her mouth, breaking the kiss with a mutual gasp. Tiny threads of spittle bridged their panting lips as Dana pulled away, staring down longingly at the girl squirming so deliciously beneath her. She giggled dizzily, her own head feeling thick with lurid urges, and looked down to where her fingers were messily squirming against Anna’s hard little clit.

“You’re so wet, Anna,” Dana whispered in awe, momentarily retracting her fingers to watch the poor girl’s copious nectar glisten and drip from her fingertips. They easily slipped back into Anna’s swollen folds, finding the entrance to her sex and teasingly dipping inside. Anna sighed in response, unconsciously shifting her hips to offer Dana’s fingers more ready access. Dana chewed her lip, “Does it feel good? Should I keep playing with your clit…or should I do…this…?”

Without warning, Dana straightened the middle two digits of her slick hand, and pressed the makeshift phallus slowly, but relentlessly, into Anna’s clutching depths.

The young girl cried out, arching her back, clawing reflexively at the blonde amazon’s toned arms. Her hazel eyes creaked open to stare hopelessly down at the hand now rhythmically stroking in and out of her weeping sex. Dana’s first few thrusts were slow and testing, allowing her to become accustomed to the feeling of her fingers filling her channel, but little by little she was increasing the tempo, punctuating each plunge with a rapid final thrust at its deepest point.

“MMNnnggh!” NN-no, oh GOD—d-don’t—so hard…so—OOHH!” Anna choked out, unable to stop her hips from rising to meet each of Dana’s thrusts. Her whole body flushed, sweat beading on her fevered skin. Her nipples were so hard they ached, and despite her protests, Dana was absolutely right; she was beyond wet, she was so turned on that she could feel the juices leaking between her thighs. Dana’s fingers were touching places she never realized she WANTED to be touched, setting off sensations she had never dreamed possible. It was getting harder and harder to remember that she didn’t want this, that her friend was being manipulated somehow. God, her head…her head was getting so…fuzzy…

It was then that Anna noticed the haunting, sinister curl of mist out of the corner of her eye.

Her heart leaped into her chest, and she turned her head towards the entrance to the cave, and saw to her groaning dismay the current of vile fog flowing uphill into their tiny haven. It pooled and lurked with malevolent cunning, flowing towards them as if drawn to their body heat. Only now did Anna notice the thin, wispy tendrils playing across Dana’s skin, wrapping around her throat, her breasts, and plunging between her parted thighs. She saw the blank, dreamy look in Dana’s eyes, and suddenly realized what was happening.

She pleaded, “DANA! Dana it’s the mist—the mist is HERE, it’s all around us—it’s…it’s got you in some kind of a trance…please, Dana please, you have to…you have to snap out of it…b-before…buh….befff….fore….nnnhh!”

But she could barely finish the warning, because Dana wasn’t listening. Her fingers were moving inside her, stroking faster and faster, fucking her with an intensity that took her breath away. She choked back a moan, biting her lip, struggling anew with final desperation. She pushed and struck at Dana’s shoulders, but she had barely the strength to even move her arms, and Dana seemed to be almost hypnotized by the sight of her fingers plundering her pussy that she was barely paying attention to her at all.

“Mmm, yes…” she was whispering, almost to herself, “More…more….faster…deeper…!”

“She can’t hear me,” Anna wailed pitifully, her head dropping back to the mossy floor as the strength fled her neck. The shock of seeing the infernal fog had momentarily jolted her back from the brink, but inevitably the steady, sexy pounding of Dana’s hand had her hips dancing to their thrusts again, and no matter how hard she tried Anna couldn’t muster the will to stop.

Her thighs were spread wide, her pussy boiling over; her hands had stopped trying to push at Jungle Babe’s shoulders and were now clutching to them for dear life. Anna could feel something building inside her, something massive and merciless and oh god she couldn’t stop…!

Anna screwed her eyes shut, panting breathlessly, trying vainly to stave off the approach of that sensual abyss, and feeling her resistance crumbling by the second. She didn’t see the way the mists had surged up to envelop them both in its clinging embrace, how even now her head lay in its swirling grip. The heady, rich scent of ancient loam filled her senses, calling up feelings and fantasies to flicker unbiddenly in her mind. She heard the most slutty moaning, and realized too late that it was coming from her.

“I’m going to cum,” she thought miserably, biting on her fist to keep from sounding like a complete whore, “Dana’s fucking me and she won’t stop and I’m going to come…!”

Fucking you, a voice bubbled in her mind, sounding so much like hers but lust-thick and honey-sweet, No…she’s not just fucking you, Anna. She’s raping you.

“W-what….?” Anna whispered, opening her eyes to see Dana staring almost lovingly down at her. Confusion and lust wrestled in her addled brain. It was so hard to think. It felt so…good…! She shook her head, feeling her hips rising faster and faster. “N-no…she’s…she can’t help it…she…”

She’s raping you, the voice chortled, she’s raping you and its making you hotter than you’ve ever felt before!

Anna’s mind reeled, “Nooo! N-no…it’s not true…I’m—I’m not…I can’t resist…I can’t….I’m…I’m….!”

You’re a slut.

The words were an accusation, but at the same time they struck a chord somewhere deep and forbidden in Anna’s psyche. She moaned, tossing her head, wanting to deny it but feeling only the relentless pounding in her pussy, could focus only on the pleasure of her pussy.

You’re a slut; only a slut would be moaning like you are; only a slut would be on the brink of cumming while she was being raped. Admit it. Confessss…!

“OOOHHhh! Oh stop—stop, please—no more! I can’t take any more…!” she wailed, teetering, not knowing what would happen after she fell but knowing she would fall a very, very long way down…!

Dana’s fingers kept fucking her. Filling her. Stroking her sex. Stimulating her clit. Pushing her closer and closer to the very brink.

It’s too late, slut. You can’t fight her any more. CUM. Cum NOW, and scream like the whore you are.

As if sensing her prey’s peril, Dana’s thumb angled up, and on the final inward thrust flickered swiftly against Anna’s heavily swollen clitoris. That did it. With a wounded groan Anna arched her back, her whole body going totally tense, as the orgasm sucked her into its whirlwind. She trembled and shook, losing herself in the delicious heat of release as Dana fucked her senseless, her unceasing hand wringing explosion after explosion out of her spasming cunt.

Then, just when she thought she might die, Dana’s fingers finally slowed, then stopped, falling still but remaining deeply embedded in her twitching cunt. She was panting, just not nearly as hard as Anna was; the poor girl felt like she couldn’t catch a breath. Her whole body was thrumming and tingling in the aftermath of her orgasm, tiny flickers of light dancing madly in the periphery of her vision. But if her body was a wreck, her mind was even worse; her thoughts were a catastrophic jumble, words and phrases lost in an oozing fog of sexual sedation. The only voice that retained any clarity at all was the strange, alien presence cavorting madly in her ear.

Slut slut Anna’s a slut a whore a bitch a tawdry little minx a slut a slut you’re such a slut

The voice sing-songed the nonsense epitaphs in an endless torrent of honeyed tones, giggling like a lunatic in the asylum of her mind. Want more, don’t you slut? Beg for it, slut. Beg her to rape you again and again and again and…!


Dana’s voice now, sounding so far away, rustled Anna halfway back to reality. She blinked, and realized that her blonde conqueror was now sitting astride her thighs, one hand raking hungrily against the soft skin of her stomach, while the other slipped in and out of her moaning mouth as Dana licked her digits clean.

Her eyes bored into Anna’s own, lidded with lust.

“Oh Anna, you came so hard,” Dana lilted, groaning around the fingers in her mouth. “You get so wet when you cum…so, so wet…!”

Her eyes flickered mischievously, “Here…taste yourself…”

Before Anna could mutter a word, Dana brought her glistening fingers to her mouth and slipped them past her pink lips. Any complaint was immediately silenced as the wonton naughtiness of having another woman’s fingers, still mostly covered in her own sex juice, playing against her tongue wrung a groan of smoldering need from the prone girl’s throat. She didn’t know what to do, didn’t know what to think, Dana’s fingers just kept sliding in and out, in and out…

Before she knew what was happening, Anna realized she had clamped her lips around Dana’s probing fingers, and was sucking eagerly on the slender digits, filling her mouth with the taste of her own weeping sex. Dana murmured something approvingly, slowly working her fingers in and out like they were a cock, while Anna sucked and licked at them in a lovesick daze.

Do you like the taste of pussy, slut? You know you do. Your pussy is getting wet all over again…

It was true. Despite just having come like a freight train, the sensation of being forced to clean her mistress’ fingers of her own wetness was driving her utterly insane with renewned need, she—



Where…where had that come from…?

Before she could think about it any more, Dana pulled her fingers free from her mouth, and Anna was forced to release them with an almost pained moan. She would have begged for more, shamelessly…but Dana had other things in mind.

“Did that feel good, baby?” she purred, reaching out to grab Anna’s perk tits and squeezing them possessively in her hot, wet hands. The sudden attention to her neglected nipples made Anna squirm. “Did you like how I made you cum…?”

Say it, slut. Tell her how much you loved what she did to you.

But some small part of her still clung to the truth, however tenuous a grasp it was. They were still at risk; even MORE at risk now, with both of them so madly turned on, so blindly aroused. The mist had found them, how much longer before one of the Beast’s other minions did? Or those tentacles? They would be helpless…easy prey…!

“Dana….” Anna whimpered weakly, “Dana please…snap out of it…! I can’t hold out much longer….It’s so hard to…to think…getting so h-hot….please….!”

But Jungle Babe was somewhere her words couldn’t reach. The blonde bombshell massaged her breasts with a hungry groan, oblivious to the danger, captivated by the raging need consuming her unsatisfied pussy. Slowly, she began to slide herself up Anna’s body, rocking her hips against the girl’s slender torso.

“OOOhhh—!” Anna moaned, feeling the swollen, sex-slick lips of Dana’s pussy grind against her abdomen. “Oooh god, oh god stop—stop…!”

She didn’t, of course. Mewling eagerly, Jungle Babe slowly inched her way forward, rolling her rigid clit and sodden pussy back and forth against Anna’s warm skin and leaving a wet trail behind her.

She raised her hips to clear the twin peaks of Anna’s breasts, her knees moving along either side of her head, and suddenly Anna was staring in mute awe at Dana’s bare pussy, hanging temptingly above her upturned face.

Anna could see how aroused she was; how the folds of her pussy bloomed and spread, how the wetness ran in visible rivulets to coat her inner thighs, and how the nub of her clit seemed to pulse and throb with a heartbeat of its own.

More than that, she saw the tiny, whisper-thin strand of mist that had coiled itself around Jungle Babe’s erect clit, stroking it, lashing it like a leash, but the implications of that sight were beyond Anna’s ability to process.

The scent of her made Anna’s head swim. A droplet of her nectar fell across her panting lips, and before she could stop herself her tongue had snaked out to taste it.

She shuddered, her trembling arms falling limply to her sides. She couldn’t fight this. She couldn’t fight something that made her absolutely drip with need. Out of the dark fog in her mind an image swam into view, a memory, of Jungle Babe lashed helplessly to a gnarled, rotten tree by coiling, oozing tentacles, her legs held wide, while she knelt between them, moaning and sucking and licking in abject submission, feasting on her lover’s quivering sex.

Remember that, Anna? Remember the first time you tasted her? You were that evil Angie’s little sex-toy at the time, but deep inside you wanted it just as badly as she said you did. You want her to fuck you. You want her to make you serve her again. Why, you might cum just from the thought…!

“Mmmm…D-dana…!” Anna moaned, her eyes growing impossibly heavy as that hot pussy slowly began to descend, “Dana…d-don’t…mmmpph!”

With a cry of her own, Jungle Babe finally let her hips fall the final few inches, planting her dripping pussy firmly against the young woman’s trembling lips. Her reward was an immediate rush of pleasure from the torrid ‘kiss’. Her thighs spread wide, her huge breasts bouncing wildly as she shook and moaned.

Anna’s eyes rolled back, her own helpless utterances muffled by the smoldering pussy pressing insistently against her face. Her arms were trapped. There was no escape. The only thing left was the sweet…tempting…dripping cunt kissing her lips, demanding her attention, her submission.

She couldn’t fight it any more. She just didn’t want to.

Moan for her, slut.

She did.

Open your mouth. Taste her!

Oh yesss!

Lick her. Suck her. Make her cum like she made you!

“OOhh GOD! Oh Anna yes! Please…I need it…I need you…. OH YES!” Dana gasped as she felt the girl’s mouth come alive between her legs. All at once, the pitiful moans had abated, and then there had been a low, hungry growl, and then she’d felt it; Anna’s tongue, her soft, supple tongue, slid out and began lapping powerfully against her anxious lips. They traced her labia, dove into the smothering gash to find her tight, weeping opening, and slid up to circle and swipe and caress the seat of her pleasure. Jungle Babe moaned, her glazed eyes closing, as she felt small hands take hold of her ass and pull her even harder against Anna’s hot, sucking mouth. Her hips moved on their own, rocking eagerly into the wicked pleasure, feeling it soar and take her with it.

She grabbed her own aching tits, pulling at her nipples, feeling the shards of welcome delight combining with the throb from her pussy and stoking her desire into a furnace.

It was so good! She was going to cum! To hell with that, she was going to explode, and it would be amazing, and wonderful, because it was Anna, it was Anna doing this, it was Anna sucking on her clit and licking her sex, it was…!


Something flickered in Jungle Babe’s consciousness, momentarily breaking through the lurid sex spell that held her in its clutches. Confusion creased her brow as a soft, desperate part of her mind struggled to raise its voice over the cacophonous moans spilling from her own mouth. “This was wrong,” it managed to scream, “What are you doing? You have to stop! You have to stop!!”

“Anna—Anna, what—what’s happening…?” she groaned, cradling her head in her hands even as her hips, and Anna’s cunning tongue, continued their sordid ballet. “What are we doing? We—wait, wait please…! We have to…no…!”

Anna’s grip on her ass was surprisingly strong, and the pleasure, the looming release, was draining her strength. She moaned, nearly falling back into the swirling sex-haze of the mist, but at the last minute Dana managed to find a final reserve of willpower and forced her drooling sex up and away from Anna’s ravenous mouth. The girl gasped and sucked in air as her lover pulled free, but immediately lunged after her, wanting, needing, moaning like ached.

The look on her face made Dana’s heart skip a beat.

“Nnooo!” Anna groaned, staring up at Dana imploringly, “Please don’t! More….! I want more…! Fuck me more!!!”

“Oh Anna…!” Jungle Babe whispered in horror, “Oh god, what have I done? What did I do to you!”

But Anna wasn’t—couldn’t—answer her. The young woman had totally succumbed to the insidious voices murmuring in her head. She was a slut. A pussy-craving slut, and the one she wanted was so close, so sweet….! She lunged at Jungle Babe’s thigh, moaning hungrily as she fasted her lips and lashed her tongue against the firm, glistening flesh. She had to taste her, had to feel her on her lips, had to make her come! If Dana came she would come too! She wanted it…needed it!

“Fuck me…!” she begged, looking into Dana’s wide eyes in total submission, “Take me…make me your bitch…your slave! Please! R-rape me…rape me again!!”

The words hit Jungle Babe like a stack of bricks. With a cry of terrified dismay she fell backwards, backpedaling across the cool stones and shaking her head in denial. She couldn’t do that! She couldn’t do that to anyone, much less Anna! Oh god, what had she done? What had come over her?

She stared down at her body, still trembling, still on the verge of climax, and wrapped her arms around herself in a quiet, desperate hug.

All at once everything came crashing back through. Every thought. Every deed. She choked back a sob.

She’d done horrible things. She’d forced herself on this girl, had made her cum against her will, and forced her onto her back and made her lick her pussy oh god she’d raped her oh GOD what was wrong with her—!

“A-Anna—!” she sobbed, shaking, shame and humiliation and disgust surging up like bile in her throat. “Anna I’m sorry—I’m so sorry….! I—”

But to Jungle Babe’s horror, Anna didn’t seem to hear her. The girl had propped herself up, leaning back against the cave wall. She brought up her knees, spread her legs, and with one hand pulled the swollen lips of her pussy apart to reveal the wet, shining pink inside. She looked at Dana with lidded, glassy eyes.

“Take me again,” she moaned, stroking her clit with her other hand, “Do you see how wet I am? How wet you make me…? Please, fuck me. I’m yours. I want you too…!”

Jungle Babe groaned, not just in sorrow, but in helpless arousal. The sight of the young woman, the innocence twisted into a display of such wanton need, stoked the fire in her own aching sex. The release she had denied herself screamed at her furiously, and her body trembled with arousal. Anna was so warm…so soft…they could lie together, here, lost in each other for hours and hours just cumming and moaning and kissing and—

She shook her head violently, only then realizing that she had shifted into a low, slow crawl, and had been in the process of slipping right back into the girl’s open embrace.


She pushed herself to her feet, lurching dizzily as her body struggled to keep up. Her heart was thundering, hammering wildly in her chest. She looked about the cave, noticing—for the first time—the hateful miasma filling the chamber. It swirled around them, silent but somehow mocking, sneering as if to say that it had seen what she’d done…what she was guilty of…

Tears welled in her eyes. She was beyond the point of rational thought. There was too much shame, too much fear.

Without thinking, terrified that another moment would see her reduced to a moaning, mindless harlot once more, Dana did the only thing that made sense:

She ran.

She stumbled out of the cave, the rain striking her cold and blinding her instantly, but she ran anyway. She had to get away; she couldn’t control herself. She had raped Anna, and as much as she hated to admit it, deep down she knew, if she stayed just another moment…she would do it again.

She was a monster.

She sobbed, heaved more than cried, and careened madly into the dark, stormy night.

Anna wailed after her, begging her to stop, to come back—but it was too late. The storm swallowed her up, and the thunder drowned out Anna’s desperate calls. She slumped to the misty ground, dizzy, confused. What was happening? Why…why did Dana leave…?

Didn’t she want her any more?

Don’t cry, slut, the wicked voice murmured soothingly, You will see her again…ssssoooon…

“W-who are you?” Anna trembled, “I…I can’t think…so hot…so turned on…!”

Of course you are, it laughed, you are drawn to the Massster’s will…to his lusssts…what mere female can resist that…?

To her disbelieving eyes, Anna watched as a serpent of mist suddenly formed in the air, poised before her like a writhing plume of smoke. Instinctively she held up a hand to ward it off, and it immediately snaked forward, splashing against her arm and coiling around and around.

Her skin…tingled…!

I had hoped that Sandra would find the two of you locked in sensual lovemaking, the voice rasped even as the serpent snaked its way along her shoulders and neck before plunging between her breasts. You would have been helpless to resist her, already primed and eager to be dominated and fucked….mores the pity…

Anna looked on in shock; the thing was wholly mist, a thing of the fog, and so she could barely feel it at all; and yet everywhere it went, she felt her skin just come…alive!

“W-wait…stop…!” she begged, but even as she reached for the mist serpent it flowed between her fingers like quicksilver, heading down…down…

Now Sandra will have to chase your little friend. No matter. She does like it when they play hard to get…

Anna moaned as the snake suddenly plunged between her legs. It lay its length against her wet slit, its vaporous form flowing and caressing with ghostly intimacy. A sudden thrill stole the breath from Anna’s lips, as the simmering arousal, the heady need, she was suffering suddenly doubled in strength. She fell forward, on her hands and knees, trembling even just to hold up her own weight. Her face flushed, and her vision swam.

A shape was coalescing in the dim. The mist was gathering, gaining thickness, mass, until it resembled nothing so much as a strange and exotic woman with a writhing head of serpentine hair.

Anna stared in mute shock as Carmen’s misty visage slinked towards her.

I’m coming for you soon, my lovely, she whispered, staring deeply into Anna’s wide eyes, I draw closer with every moment. Wait for me…

A ghostly hand reached out, and stroked lovingly against her cheek. The heavy fog in her mind grew almost impenetrable, and Anna felt her insides melt. She moaned weakly, falling over, rolling limply onto her back beneath the pulsing bed of the mists. Carmen’s voice chuckled thickly in her ear, echoing in her head.

Oh how to pass the time…? After all…idle hands are the devil’s playthings…!

Anna felt an almost imperceptible tug on her wrist, and looked down to see that Carmen’s ethereal hand had entwined itself with her own. Dazed, lost in a sea of sensual thoughts, the helpless girl could only watch in disbelief as she felt her hand being guided to her abdomen, where it was slowly moved lower….lower…

She groaned as her own fingers slipped into the torrid heat of her sex, the sensation of her fingers so familiar, yet moving with a strange life of their own. She barely had time to even register it, because a second later her fingers found her clit, and the whole world just turned into a white, swirling, erotic cloud.

She moaned, her eyes slipping shut as sinister pleasure lulled her into its sweet and irresistible web.

What a good little slut, Carmen cooed, Now, show me how you like to be touched…

And Anna, helplessly, was compelled to obey.

* * *

Dana ran.

The thundering maelstrom of the storm lashed her with rain and cut her with its biting wind. Between the rain and the tears she was effectively blind, but she didn’t care. She charged forward as fast and as hard as her aching limbs would allow, not caring which direction she went. She just knew that she needed to put as much distance between herself and Anna as possible.

She was running from her shame.

She stumbled across the rocky ground, feeling nothing so much as utter despair. She had betrayed everything she believed in; she was supposed to be a hero, a guardian, and yet in the end she…she had…

Her foot caught on an outcrop of roots, and she lost her balance. She crashed into the sodden ground, the wind knocked out of her. Even her grace and agility had abandoned her. For the longest time she just lay like that, her face in the mud, the tears streaming hotly down her cheeks. She was panting, aching, and couldn’t seem to muster even the strength to stand.

Why bother, she sobbed. How could you possibly hope to move on from here? You’re a fool; an arrogant, haughty fool, and this is the price you pay. You thought yourself a hero. You had the audacity to believe you could achieve anything. Now look at you; face-down in the mud, lost, helpless, hopeless.

Anna would have been better off having never met you at all.

The flicker of the young woman’s smiling face hurt worse than anything else, striking her like a body blow and forcing her to curl into a tight little ball. Oh god. Oh dear god…

She was in over her head. WAY over her head. This infernal forest, this detestable mist…it was beyond anything she could have conceived in her worst nightmares. The things she’d seen, the things she’d felt…the things she’d done…there was no way she was coming out of this unscathed. She’d be lucky to come out of it alive.

Hell, alive? Right now death might have been more merciful. Better than facing her sins, and confronting the leering, sex-crazed beast that lurked inside.

Right then, Jungle Babe thought she realized what people meant when they said they feared for their souls.

After what seemed like an eternity, still unable to move, the tears finally dried up. There were just none left to shed. It took a few moments after that for the dry sobs to stop, leaving her lying on her side, curled like a child.

The rumbling in the skies had dwindled. The rain was slowing down, until the torrent had slowed to a slow trickle, and then to sporadic, heavy drops that splashed coldly against her naked skin.

She closed her swollen eyes. She wished the earth would just…swallow her up. She wished desperately that it was all just some awful, awful dream, that she’d wake up in a cold sweat at home and that the mists would be gone and the horrid forest would be gone and Anna and Brenda would be safe and she wasn’t a monster—


The voice made her snap awake. She froze, stopping even her breathing. What was that? Had she imagined it? It…it had sounded like…

Dana, where are you?

She pushed herself to her knees, looking about the damp, dark forest for the source of the voice. It couldn’t be. She knew who it sounded like, but that…that was impossible…!

The mist curled thickly all around her, once more transforming the gnarled woods into a freakish dreamscape of fetid vines and twisted, shadowy shapes. The rain had stopped; the thunder was gone; even the breeze had ceased to blow. For the moment it felt as if the whole forest was suddenly just waiting….waiting…


The eerie sound made her skin break out in goosebumps, but she staggered to her feet, trembling, fearing to even dare hope that it was who she thought it was.

All of the sudden a form appeared in the distance, but the roiling fog masked all but the vague curve of its silhouette. Something was approaching her, walking slowly through the mists. The silent swagger and soft sway of its curvy form declared it female, and Dana felt her heart leap into her throat.

It couldn’t be.

The figure drew nearer, and slowly Dana saw more and more of her. The great flowing mane of dark hair, the perfect figure that could have been sculpted from marble, the silent strength that belied her utter femininity. She was a goddess brought to earth, a myth in human form.

Dana gasped in disbelief. “B-brenda…? But that’s…that’s impossible…!”

The voluptuous form of Miss Americana stepped out from between the trees, fixing a steady stare at the utterly transfixed Jungle Babe. Her ruby lips curled into a smile, and her arms rose up into an outstretched welcome.

“Dana,” she breathed, “I knew you’d come for me…”

Jungle Babe — In the Clutches of Cernunnos

Chapter 11: Duel of Lions

The ghostly, and stunningly naked, figure of Miss Americana sauntered towards a distraught Jungle Babe in the shadowy depths of the corrupted forest.

“Dana,” she said, resembling nothing so much as an ethereal angel in the night, “I knew you’d come for me…”

Unlike Jungle Babe, she appeared utterly untouched by the departed storm; her body was luminous, perfect and unmarred, while Dana’s was streaked with grime and caked with mud.

“Brenda,” Dana muttered, stumbling forward, “You…you were captured. H-held prisoner. How…how did you escape…?”

“It’s alright now, Dana,” Miss Americana breathed, “The monster is defeated. The nightmare is over. We’re safe.”

She held out her arms.

“S-safe…?” Dana stammered, her heart pounding. She stepped towards the smiling Miss Americana. It couldn’t be true; it was too good to be true. And yet…she wanted so badly to believe it. Was it possible that Brenda had overcome the monster by herself? It seemed improbable…and yet if anyone could do it, she would be the one.

Brenda nodded, urging her friend closer. “Yes. Come. It’s time you got some rest, Dana. You’ve been so brave…you’ve fought so hard….”

All around them, the mist pulsed and quivered hungrily, yet hung back, creating a dense, swirling perimeter around Jungle Babe and her beatific companion. If Dana noticed, she gave no sign. Her eyes were red-rimmed from the tears, and glazed with fatigue. Her pell mell flight had left her winded and drained. All she wanted now was to rest, and Brenda’s arms were so…inviting…

“Let me hold you,” Brenda soothed, “You must be exhausted…”

She was tired; bone tired, and the weariness went beyond simple physical fatigue. She was mentally drained, spiritually battered. She barely knew which way was up any more. The episode in the cave, recalling everything that had happened with Sable Myst and the subsequent… encounter…with Anna…

She felt her cheeks flush anew with shame.

She stepped closer.

“I’m tired,” Dana sobbed, smiling weakly, “and I’ve been so, so worried about you. I…I didn’t think I’d ever see you again…”

“That’s sweet,” Brenda replied. Jungle Babe was just beyond arm’s reach. “You came all the way here, just to find me. You’re a good friend, Dana. Let me be the one to help you now.”

Dana’s gaze was being hopelessly drawn to Miss Americana’s bright, shining eyes. So lovely. So kind. She could feel the anxiety and the despair just bleeding away. She sighed, starting to sway a little as she walked. Such pretty, golden eyes…

Somewhere in the back of her mind warning bells were going off. It was too perfect to be true. Something about Brenda…something was off…but then her eyes would catch Dana’s gaze again, and all those fears and worries just seemed to not matter as much any more.

This was her friend. She could trust her friend

“That’s it, darling,” Brenda whispered enticingly, ruby lips curling into a bow, “No need to be afraid. Come…I’m not going to hurt you. I’m going to help you rest. You need rest…”

Dana took another halting step forward. She barely even realized she did it; there was just Brenda’s soothing voice, and her eyes, her deep, inviting eyes. The longer she stared, the more and more relaxed she felt…and the warmer her body seemed to flush. Was she blushing? It…it kind of felt like she was…and why was she feeling so…sleepy…?

“R-rest,” the rapidly succumbing heroine repeated, her aching eyes starting to droop, “Need…rest….”

Before she knew what was happening, she had made the final few steps forward, and suddenly found herself standing right in front of a smirking Miss Americana, so close the hard, throbbing points of her nipples nearly brushed Brenda’s own with each slow, deep breath. The intermittent contact, seemingly accidental and yet still so horribly enticing, only exacerbated the strange, surging heat Dana felt spreading inside her.

Her brow furrowed, confusion and doubt warring with the soothing, sensual lethargy soaking her mind. Why did she suddenly feel so…turned on? She shouldn’t…Brenda…Brenda was her friend…and yet she couldn’t help it. Being close to her, the way her eyes seemed to see deep inside her…it was making her hot. Dazed.

She tried to back away. Some part of her must have recognized the danger, but as soon as she tried Brenda’s arms were around her, caressing her, stroking so pleasantly up and down her spine. Dana heard herself gasp at the sudden contact.

“S-something’s wrong…” Dana stammered, blinking heavily, She squirmed in the other woman’s embrace, the clumsy motion accidentally forcing their heavy tits to collide. Or did Brenda do that? Whatever the case, the sudden salacious impact sent Dana reeling; heat surged on her cheeks, and the aching in her nipples intensified to almost painful longing. Dana’s addled mind couldn’t quite decide what she should do; she needed to get away…didn’t she? But Brenda’s hands…they felt so nice…and her breasts were so, so soft… “I—I feel so…strange…” she whimpered.

“Nothing’s wrong, Dana,” Miss Americana soothed, her fingers tracing nonsense paths up and down the hapless heroine’s back. “You’re just tired. So very, very tired…You need to rest. You need to…sleep…”

Slowly, the raven-haired beauty began to pull her prey in closer, holding her in the small of her back. As she tightened her embrace, she made sure that her generous endowments pressed deliciously against Dana’s own, maximizing the contact between their stiff, engorged nipples. She felt Dana shiver uncontrollably, her eyes fluttering at the sensation.

“Oohhh….I…I don’t…I can’t…everything’s…spinning…” her quaking voice trailed off as she lost herself in the utterly erotic feeling of having Brenda’s massive rack bullying against hers. Shifting. Sliding. Sending tremors of helpless excitement dancing through her chest. The effect, in concert with Brenda’s deep, entrancing gaze, was almost irresistible. Within moments, Jungle Babe’s paltry struggles began to cease. Brenda’s body was shifting in a slow and sinuous dance, massaging her with her tits. With only the slightest urging from the hands at her back, Dana found herself slowly writhing to meet her. Her breath caught in her throat, her clit flaring.

The whirl of mist began to close in, shifting closer and closer, a spiral of malevolent white encircling the distracted Jungle Babe. The sultry assault on her tits never let her realize what was happening.

Everything around them seemed to be growing distant and hazy. The details of the forest began to slip away as if in a dream, until there was only Brenda; her impossibly soft breasts, and her unwavering, sensual stare. Golden eyes. So pretty…making her squirm…making her weak.


Jungle Babe tensed, even as her nipples raking against the sinister beauty holding her coaxed a moan unwillingly from her lips.

Brenda didn’t have golden eyes. Her eyes were blue.

It was all a lie!

“L-let me go!” she hissed, bracing her trembling hands against ‘Brenda’s’ alabaster shoulders and struggling to push herself away. But her captor wouldn’t be deterred so easily. She chuckled cruelly, tightening her hold, and Dana’s failing strength was simply no match. “Let me go!! You—you’re not Brenda!”

Immediately, as if simply declaring her disbelief penetrated whatever strange glamour was at work, the woman before her began to change. Her features rippled and shifted, color cascading like a wave down her body and changing everything as it went. Black hair blossomed into a mane of bright and brilliant blonde; the familiar features of the angelic Miss Americana gave way to the stunning, but undeniably malevolent, face of a woman Dana scarcely recognized. All along her nakedness, visible expanses of tempting female flesh were framed by beautiful, short fur, seemingly painted on her in patterns that emphasized her feminine charms. Fingers, suddenly tipped with sharp, wicked claws, raked teasingly against her back. There was a swish of motion behind her, and Dana, to her shock, realized the woman had a tail.

“Not as stupid as you look,” the strange woman smirked, for the first time flashing a set of perfectly white fangs hidden behind her full, crimson lips. “But it’s far too late now, kitten. You’re about to go on a sleepy, sexy little ride for me…”

“L-like hell I am!” Dana grimaced, struggling to find any resistance, any reserves of strength she had remaining—and coming up woefully short. “You’re another of the monster’s little concubines, just like that lunatic Angie! Let me go, you bitch! L-let me…go!”

But try as she might, the leonin beauty had little trouble fending off her pathetic attempts at escape. In fact, she effortlessly shrugged off the few glancing blows Dana managed to land on her face, smirking at the disheveled blonde with wicked amusement.

“Feisty,” she laughed, “I like that…”

She pulled Dana in close, crushing their tits together, instantly reminding the trapped Jungle Babe of the exquisite, forbidden sensation of such salacious contact. The protest choked in Dana’s throat, a shudder of unwanted desire racing through her.

Sandra’s eyes glittered, “I like these,” she punctuated the statement by roughly rolling her nipples across Dana’s, “even better…”

“S-stop it…!” Dana winced, desperately trying to ignore the heat rising unbiddenly in her pussy. She couldn’t be getting turned on…not—not by this she-demon, and yet her body seemed to have a mind of its own. The fever of the forest had taken a heavy toll, battering her inhibitions; her body didn’t care that the owner of those perfect breasts was a monstrous chimera threatening her with sexual conquest, it only cared about how utterly moan-inducing it felt to have them pressing against hers over and over again.

Her body’s utter eagerness for the twisted pleasure this monster offered terrified her deeply. If she didn’t find some way out, and soon, she didn’t know what would happen.

No, a desperate voice corrected her, you know exactly what will happen. First you’ll start to pant. Then you’ll start to moan. And then you’ll be on your back, screaming, while she fucks your horny little brains out.

With terror galvanizing her body, Jungle Babe forced her arms against Sandra’s undulating chest (don’t think about her breasts don’t think about her breasts don’t) and snapped her legs up, bracing her knee into the small space she managed to create. With everything she had, she kicked. Hard.

The sudden force caught Sandra unprepared. She hissed a curse as Jungle Babe pulled free from her grip, stumbling backwards and only barely keeping her balance, but she’d done it! She’d escaped!

But…now what?

“Why do you hero types always insist on making things difficult?” Sandra sighed, her tail twitching in annoyance. She crossed her arms impatiently beneath her heavy tits and cocked her head quizzically at the panting heroine. “And what do you think you’re going to do now, kitten? There’s nowhere to run. No place to hide.”

Dana didn’t know. Maybe it was all futile. Maybe all she was doing was delaying the inevitable, but dammit she refused to just let this bitch have her way. Her face hardened grimly, and she dropped into a combat stance.

Sandra raised an eyebrow. “Fight? Really? You can barely stand!”

“I’ve more than enough left to deal with the likes of you!” she shot back, praying she sounded more confident than she felt.

Sandra sighed, shrugging in resignation. She dropped into a loping crouch, grinning widely. “Alright then…since you insist…!”

Faster than Jungle Babe would have thought possible, the leonin creature lunged forward, closing the distance between them in half a heartbeat. She cursed in alarm, her reflexes barely fast enough to deflect the clawed swipe aimed at her face. The force of Sandra’s blow knocked her stumbling to the side. Her head felt like it was full of cotton, and everything seemed to be moving much too fast. She only barely caught her footing, turning and bracing herself for the strike she knew would follow.

Only the blow never materialized; her opponent had vanished in a blur of movement. The mist swirled in the vacuum of Sandra’s passage.

Jungle Babe’s eyes widened, and she spun, left and right, peering into the soup-thick mist for any sign of her quarry. Her ears burned as she listened for anything—a footfall, a broken branch, a splash of mud—that might betray her position, and yet there was nothing. Silence. The fog flowed impenetrably all around her.

The bitch was fast, Jungle Babe winced, rubbing her arm; and strong. She was in ton of trouble. If she didn’t figure something out soon—

A sudden shift in the air was the only warning Dana got before Sandra dashed out of the mist, right in her blind spot. She turned too late, and a crushing blow caught her right in the side, lifting her bodily off the ground. She crashed heavily to the sodden earth, gasping as the wind was driven from her lungs. She forced herself to sit up, raising an arm to ward off another attack, but again none came. Sandra had disappeared once more.

Dana looked about frantically, clutching her side, fearfully searching for a hot trickle of blood. But Sandra had merely knocked her down; her claws, lethal as they seemed, had remained sheathed.

“She’s toying with me,” Dana thought miserably, pushing herself haltingly to her feet. She struggled to calm the panic that threatened to overtake her and only partially succeeded. She could not still her racing breath, or the hateful tremors wracking her legs. She could barely see, the mist was everywhere; it shifted lazily all about her, making it seem like the whole forest was slowly swaying. The rich, primal scent filling her senses made her…woozy…

Just then she felt something brush against her thigh, and looked down in shock to see a slender, inhuman hand stroke along the outside of her leg. She cried out in alarm, backpedalling, swiping it away. Sandra vanished into the mist once again, chuckling at her little game.

“You have lovely legs, kitten,” her voice lilted, coming from everywhere at once. “So firm and smooth. I can’t wait to feel them tremble when I make you cum.”

“S-show yourself!” Dana shouted, backing away slowly. She refused to acknowledge the way the taunting was making her stomach flutter nervously, or the way that the feeling of her touch seemed to linger.

There was movement in the mist ahead of her, and suddenly a curvy, sauntering shadow shifted into focus. However faint a target it was, it would have to be enough; Dana charged forward, desperate to seize the tempo of the fight. She lashed out at the dark form, but the moment before her blow connected Sandra simply melted back into the fog.

Jungle Babe stumbled to a halt, teetering dangerously on her feet. Even as she skid to a halt, the rest of the world seemed to lurch forward with sickening momentum. Everything rocked wildly, her vision swimming drunkenly as she fought to keep her balance. She groaned, clutching at her head, trying to will the world to stop its mad spinning. “G-getting so…tired…” she panted, shaking her head, “So…dizzy…! Where—where did she—AH!?”

She gasped involuntarily as two firm hands rose up from behind her and seized her heaving breasts, sinking possessively into her pliant flesh. A shudder of unwanted desire almost forced a groan from Jungle Babe’s throat, but she managed to choke it back. She grabbed for Sandra’s hands, meaning to hurl them away…but she could only paw at them uselessly as they brazenly, and skillfully, massaged her aching tits.

It felt like her hands were moving through molasses; she couldn’t seem to focus enough to pull Sandra’s marauding hands away. And the way they caressed her, stroking her breasts from base to tip in smooth, practiced motions made her already engorged nipples absolutely throb. She found herself staring down at them in disbelief, and could only shake her head, muttering futile denials, as she watched wicked fingers take hold of her jutting peaks, where they cruelly started to pull…and twist…

“NNNGHH!!” Dana gasped, her head snapping back, “NN—no! D-don’t—don’t do t-that—AAHH!”

She was forced to arch her back as Sandra trapped her pulsing nipples between thumb and forefinger, and used them to lift and pull Dana’s heavy breasts up and away from her body. Jolts of white-hot pleasure stabbed through her, making her shake, as she was forced onto her tip toes by the torturous assault. She felt Sandra sidle up behind her, the hard nubs of her own breasts dragging lewdly across her back.

The chimera was so hot, her body almost felt feverish.

“My, what big tits you have,” the sinister harlot whispered in her ear. “Soft. Sensitive. I’ll bet you give a great tit-fuck…”

“G-Get AWAY!” Dana snapped, spinning as best she could with her elbow aimed right where Sandra’s head would have been, but in a heartbeat the grip on her tits was released, and once more the trembling heroine found herself utterly alone.

She felt the strength bleed from her legs, and she collapsed to her knees, shaking. Sandra’s salacious assault had left her breasts absolutely humming with sensation, and the lingering tingles seemed to go straight to her pussy. She felt her nether lips flush, felt the heat of her wetness starting to flow, and hugged herself to keep from quaking.

“S-stop it,” Dana whimpered, looking frantically about with heavy, dazed eyes. “P-please…stop…I—!”

“How rude of me,” came the mocking, airy reply. “Here I am sampling those mouthwatering jugs of yours, and I haven’t even kissed you yet.”

Dana could almost imagine the wicked smirk on Sandra’s face.

“Mmmm…” came the throaty, disembodied purr, “Now that I think about it, that sounds like a wonderful idea…”

Jungle Babe was panting, confused. She tried to stand but her legs felt like they were made of jelly. She swayed on her knees, her head swimming and her heart racing, and not just with fear. She had no idea where Sandra was going to strike from next. Every inch of her felt hypersensitive; overly expectant of the next sudden caress, the next fleeting touch. The nervous flutter in her stomach had built into a rampage of butterflies.

It was a struggle just to keep her heavy eyes open. Her entire body felt like it was getting heavier by the second. She needed to focus, to think of a way out, but her thoughts were a disorganized mess. Quite against her will, she found herself thinking not so much about how to escape, but about all the horrid, lewd things the savage she-devil kept whispering in her ear. Sandra’s taunts were so distracting, forcing Dana to actually think about being kissed, about feeling the other woman’s thick, full lips pressing hotly against her own. It was impossible not to.

Movement to her right caught her eye, and she whirled, searching the mist, only for another blur to skirt right past her on the opposite side. She tried to follow the quick, predatory motions, but the heaviness in her head soon had her reeling. Every time she turned, it felt like it took painfully long seconds before her eyes could catch up.

She didn’t see Sandra’s sultry figure crawl up beside her until it was too late.

“W-what—n-no! D-don’t—MMmpph!”

Dana’s cry of alarm as Sandra savagely grabbed a fistful of her hair and forced her head back was cut off when soft, insistent lips suddenly closed onto her mouth, capturing her in a deep, torrid kiss.

The helpless blonde’s eyes snapped open in wide, utter shock. Sandra was kneeling beside her, using Dana’s hair to force her to bend dangerously backwards until she was staring straight up at the mist-shrouded canopy, her leaden legs trapped awkwardly beneath her. Her arms felt a million miles away, and flailed uselessly against the demoness’ strong, forceful grip.

Sandra’s mouth was no less aggressive. Voluptuous lips pressed and slid against her own, while a monstrous tongue lashed her impatiently, demanding entrance. Dana squirmed and squealed, unable to move, unable to escape.

After a moment, Sandra pulled back, growling in her throat.

“Don’t be coy with me,” she sighed, licking along Dana’s tightened jaw. “Be a good little girl, and open your mouth…”

“Go…go to HELL!” Dana hissed through clenched teeth.

“Stubborn to the end I see,” Sanda said, eyeing Jungle Babe’s body with ravenous delight, “Suit yourself; I know how to loosen that tongue.”

Maintaining her controlling grip on Dana’s weak struggles, Sandra began to trail a series of light, teasing kisses down Jungle Babe’s pale throat. Every so often, the sinuous slither of her tongue would trace against her skin, making her tingle and unwillingly shiver. Her neck had always been so sensitive, and Sandra seemed to know just how to tease it to maximum effect. She felt the evil woman fasten her lips right atop her pulsing jugular, and couldn’t contain the gasp that forced its way past her lips.

“Ah! Y-you…you bitch, you—you’ll never…get away with this…!” Dana stammered, but Sandra blithely ignored her. Ever downward, her mouth and tongue left a shimmering trail, crossing over her delicate collar, and sucking hungrily against the slopes of her upper chest.

Warm fingers took hold of her swaying breast, commanding it still, and Dana went rigid.

“Oh no. Oh god no. P-please—please don’t—!” she pleaded, twisting her head, trying desperately to see what her monstrous seductress was plotting and terrified to find out. Sure enough, she soon felt the first brush of Sandra’s lips against the climbing hills of her tit, and to her horror, she felt her nipple start to anxiously throb.

“You seemed to enjoy when I played with these earlier, kitten,” Sandra breathed hotly across her skin. “Let’s see how you like it when I use my mouth instead…”

Dana had no time to utter a word in protest, because a moment later, she felt the humid heat of a sigh bathe against her turgid peak, right before it was drawn into the dark, wet prison of Sandra’s sucking mouth.

“OHHH!” The moan was out of her before she could help it. Jungle Babe squirmed helplessly, shaking her head, trying vainly to dislodge herself from Sandra’s inescapable grasp. The lurid sensation of her lips and tongue laving, sucking, and nibbling her thick, jutting peak was so undeniably erotic, wicked and wrong…it sent a shudder of sinister, seductive heat rushing straight to her loins.

Her already damp sex begun to helplessly flow. Racy, obscene thoughts and fantasies forced their way onto her mind’s eye as the feelings of helplessness, shame, and smoldering, reluctant desire all conspired to scuttle her already-wavering resistance. She felt her captor give a low, purring chuckle that hummed against her flesh.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Sandra whispered, “Go on. Moan all you like. The sound of your voice is making me just…drip…”

Dana desperately wanted to deny her, but soon those wicked lips were back at work, wetly kissing their way across the deep ravine of her cleavage to lavish the same sordid attention on her other breast. Any valiant protest she might have uttered melted into a halting, addled mess.

“Please…stop…p-please…” Jungle Babe groaned, her heavy eyes starting to flutter. She felt weightless, cradled in the chimera’s dominating embrace, slowly drowning in a tide of inescapable, sexual need. Sandra was relentless, and deviously skilled. With everything around her fading into the pale, cloying haziness of the malevolent fog, Dana was adrift, unable to focus on anything but her succulent lips, her clever tongue, and the occasional, threatening grip of sharp, white teeth.

Moans, weak and all-too damnably obedient, soon filled her ears. It took her a moment to realize they were coming from her.

She barely noticed when Sandra began lowering her to the ground; the insidious pleasure from her captive breasts lulled her and quelled her half-hearted struggles. Before she realized what had happened, the sinister lioness had her wrists pinned behind her head, effortlessly holding them with one hand while she continued to lavish her infernal affections on Dana’s jutting mounds.

It wasn’t until her pretty prey was panting and writhing beneath her that Sandra finally relented, releasing her with a satisfied gasp. She observed with smug satisfaction the way Dana’s cheeks had turned a deep, blushing red, and how a her pretty eyes now blinked so, so heavily.

This was a woman ready to be bedded.

With a throaty murmur voicing her own steaming arousal, Sandra straddled Jungle Babe’s right leg, trapping it between her powerful thighs, and allowed her full weight to settle upon her hapless victim. Dana whimpered a threat, but Sandra ignored her. She’d have Jungle Babe’s spunky little tongue busy doing far more enjoyable things in just a moment.

“Now then, kitten,” the golden-maned seductress whispered, settling in atop a still-struggling Jungle Babe, “About that kiss…”

The gravity of her threat jolted Dana out of the oh-so-pleasant feeling of Sandra’s lush, perfectly-proportioned body pressing upon her, and with some effort she managed to force her wavering vision to focus on the she-demon’s face. She felt her heart leap anxiously in her chest; she was so close, so dangerously close! She tried to rally her efforts, but between Sandra’s weight and her grip on both Dana’s wrists and leg, she had absolutely no leverage.

“N-not a ch-chance!” she snapped, trying to twist her arms free, “Unhand me you bitch…let me…go….!”

Sandra watched her struggle with a kind of idle amusement on her face, her expression betraying nothing so much as supreme confidence. Dana didn’t like the look at all; it was the look of a woman who always got what—and who—she wanted, and it was making her stomach flutter. Her eyes were brilliant gold speckled with shards of blazing fall, and they seemed to almost glow in the dense shadows of the hellish woods—sensual, deep, and hopelessly penetrating.

It was so easy to just…stare…

Realizing the danger she was in, Jungle Babe suddenly, and rapidly, shook her head, clamping her straying eyes shut. “no….NO!” she said, gritting her teeth, “I won’t do it! I won’t…!”

With a low, evil laugh, Sandra adjusted herself until she lay alongside her prone captive. Slender, talon-tipped fingers began to trace nonsense trails over Dana’s flat abdomen, making her tense reflexively. Patiently, and relentlessly, they wove up and down Jungle Babe’s bare torso, as if her brazen captor sought to memorize every subtle contour of her stunning physique. Sharp nails would rake across her tingling flesh one direction, and then they would reverse, letting the furred, impossibly-soft back of her fingers caress and soothe. Back and forth they went, until they had transformed Dana’s skin into a trembling, goose-pimpled tapestry of sensation.

The hapless heroine struggled not to moan.

“Here’s the thing, kitten,” Sandra said, “I want you to fight me; I want you to resist me. Nothing gets me hotter than watching a proud little girl like you slowly succumb to her own sexual desires.” She breathed the word heavily into Dana’s ear, letting it ooze into her thoughts. Junge Babe’s brow furrowed in distress. “So go ahead, keep those pretty little eyes of your shut tight; try not to think about all the things I’m going to do to you, that I’m already doing to you. Fight me…ressssisssst…!”

Jungle Babe shivered uncontrollably as Sandra hissed sweet poison into her receptive ear. Her heart was hammering. She thought that clamping her eyes shut would help her focus, would help her shut out the mind-numbing haze of the mist and Sandra’s smoldering, beguiling stare, but it wasn’t working. Something was going horribly wrong. The darkness that greeted her felt safe, soothing. The ground she lay on was soft with moss and pliant with rain, letting her sink into it and cushioning her aching body. The chill in the air and the dew of perspiration clinging to her naked flesh should have made her shiver, but Sandra’s body was there, hot and warm, warding off the cold, inviting her to snuggle closer. And her hands…her wicked, wicked hands, they just kept moving—up…down…sharp…soft…over and over and over again.

It was so much worse than pain; pain she might have tolerated, pain she could have rejected…but this?

“No….oh no…” Dana whimpered, her stomach quivering beneath another of Sandra’s lingering caresses, “I…I won’t let you win….won’t…l-let you…nnnuhh…”

Sandra watched with lidded, glowing eyes how her pretty victim’s brow was creased in desperate concentration, even as her wet lips parted in a silent, suppressed gasp. She giggled, nuzzling Jungle Babe’s pale, vulnerable neck. Her roaming hands began to venture further, drifting just slightly higher, and lower, on each deliberate pass. The backs of her fingers would come just shy of grazing the great underswell of her breasts, while on each downward stroke her wicked claws would dance teasingly short of the soft rise of her swollen mound. Despite herself, Dana found her breath catching every time Sandra’s fingers reached either end of their torrid path, and her belly would heave in helpless anticipation of a touch that never came.

The torture was insidious. Little by little her struggles began to slow as the seductive embrace of the darkness and Sandra’s cunning caresses drained Jungle Babe of what little strength she had left. Soon she was all but panting, her half-hearted denials wilting into stilted and incoherent gasps. Her nipples, so recently lavished by Sandra’s deft lips and tongue, were throbbing in neglect, and she could feel the needy trickle of wetness leaking between her bare pussy lips.

Her back arched, and she gasped out a long, wounded moan.

“That’s a good little slut,” Sandra breathed, licking at Dana’s outstretched neck, “So sweet. So obedient. Keep fighting me, darling. Don’t give in…” She allowed her sharp, pearl-white canines to press tauntingly against Jungle Babe’s vulnerable throat, eliciting a reluctant gasp, “…no matter how much you want to.”

Dana’s cloudy mind struggled to process the wildly conflicting signals bombarding it from every direction; she was exhausted, but had to resist the soothing allure of the darkness; yet she couldn’t open her eyes, because Sandra’s were waiting, ready to pull her into their smoldering depths; she wanted to fight, desperately needed to fight, and yet Sandra kept saying she was being good…obedient…she shouldn’t be doing what that vile woman wanted, should she?

Sandra was wrong. She wasn’t a slut. She didn’t want to give in, but…she…she was just so confused. It was so hard to think, impossible to focus. Her hands…her hands were making her feel the most…awful things…needy things…sinful things…!


“Oooohhh….oh stop…please stop…!” Jungle Babe begged, feeling her hips rising uncontrollably as Sandra’s fingers once more began their titillating approach, “I…I can’t think….I…”

“Resist…” Sandra whispered, “Fight…obey…”

Jungle Babe moaned. She wanted to deny her, but it was getting harder and harder to remember what she was trying to deny.

With her victim now firmly caught in the maelstrom of the seduction, it was time for Sandra to intensify the pressure. Jungle Babe, hopelessly focused on keeping her eyes shut, and on Sandra’s salacious caresses, never could have expected the sudden shift when her leonin temptress reached down and grabbed her free leg. Before she realized what was happening, Sandra had forced her knee up and out, spreading her legs wide apart, and leaving her drooling pussy utterly defenseless.

The sudden intrusion sent a shock through Jungle Babe; her eyes snapped open in horror, and she looked down to see Sandra’s hand pressing her thigh against the soft, yielding earth. “What—what are you doing?! S-stop!”

Reflexively she pushed back, and succeeded at forcing her leg back down—but not before Sandra took advantage of the moment to slide her fingers fully along Dana’s hot and gooey snatch.

“OH GOD!” Dana cried, her hips jumping off the ground. But as soon as they’d come Sandra’s fingers were gone, leaving only the ghostly impression of their swift, surreptitious touch against her throbbing clit. Dana grimaced, clamping her eyes, and thighs, so tightly together, that her pale, slender legs trembled.

Sandra’s taunting, melodious laugh filled her ears. “Good girl. Resist. Obey…”

Once again, Sandra reached down and grabbed her knee. Dana tried to fight her, but her strength…she had nothing left…it only took a moment before Sandra overpowered her and pushed her thigh completely apart.

With a frustrated whimper Jungle Babe tried to close her legs again, and as before, Sandra’s hand was faster. It zeroed in instantly on her ragingly erect little button, giving it a playful tap and roiling caress before she could will herself to move. Once again Sandra avoided the clamping force of Dana’s legs, pulling her fingers free at the last second. Strands of clear, damning wetness trailed in the wake of their retreat.

Jungle Babe was panting, shaking her head, hopelessly trying to ignore the wanton throbbing of her swollen clit. More, it cried, more more more—but she couldn’t submit. She had to resist. She had to…obey…

Wait…no…that wasn’t right…that—

But before she could sort through her conflicting desires, Sandra was pulling her open again; dominating her, showing her how helpless she really was. Jungle Babe should have hated her for it—no, she did, she did hate her for it—yet at the same time the act of being forced open again and again was having a sinister effect on her. Her pulse began to race. Feelings of helplessness, of submission, began churning unbidden in her mind.

Once more she tried to shut her legs…to resist…and once more Sandra’s fingers found her weeping sex, and pleasure blossomed at her touch. Weakening her.

Rewarding her…

Oh god.

Jungle Babe groaned in dismay, suddenly realizing what the evil witch was trying to do. Every time she went to close her legs, Sandra would pleasure her clit. It was like she was training an animal; with resistance—with obedience—came a reward; a delicious, addicting reward. Already she could feel it starting to take hold; now when Sandra reached for her leg, she felt her pussy quiver expectantly. Mentally she was forced to prepare herself for the coming assault, for the sudden spike of mind-melting delight…she began to anticipate it…yearn for it….

God help her, she was starting to want her to touch her there…

She didn’t know what to do. This time when Sandra forced her leg aside, she hesitated. Her leg twitched indecisively but remained widely and lewdly open. Dana braced herself for the return of those devilish fingers to her pulsating clitoris, but to her relief (or was it regret?) her pussy remained untouched. She froze like that, panting, her eyes screwed tight shut.

The mellifluous, low chuckle in her ear made her insides melt.

“Clever girl,” Sandra whispered, watching with cruel amusement how Jungle Babe’s eyes flickered wildly behind her heavy lids. “So you saw through my little game. Just in time too, because another few moments, a few more playful little nudges, and I would have had you cumming like the hot little whore you are.”

Dana muttered a halting, insistent denial, but she knew deep down that Sandra was right; she couldn’t remember ever feeling so hellishly sensitive, so damnably close to the edge as Sandra had made her. She could feel the throb of her heartbeat both in her chest and at the apex of her dripping slit. Her mind rebelled against the chimera’s breezy accusations; she wasn’t a slut! It was the damn mist, poisoning her thoughts, enraging her libido. She just needed to focus, to catch her breath. She had to get herself under control…!

“Come on, baby,” Sandra said, stroking the inside of Dana’s thigh. “You’re so close. How many more times would it take? Three? Two? Or maybe just one. Try shutting your legs again, and see how good I can make you feel. You want to shut your legs, don’t you? You want to resist…”

“I—I must resist,” Dana panted, trembling, “Must…resist…but…”

Sandra’s grin was demonic. “But…?”

“You’ll make me cum,” Jungle Babe groaned, voice cracking in despair. The feather-light touches up and down the inside of her thigh were driving her wild. Her legs quivered, and her hips would spasm and jump every time those sensual digits drew close to her cunt, only to retreat once more to leave her pussy untouched. That part of her undoubtedly knew what it wanted, and that was for Sandra’s fingers to slide completely between her swollen, sodden folds and plunder her mercilessly. Her clit ached to be touched, to be stroked until the orgasm hanging over her came slicing down like a sword. But she couldn’t do that! She mustn’t! If she came, if she let this hellcat set her off…!

She wasn’t a slut. She wasn’t. Oh god please don’t let it be true!

“I don’t want to cum,” Jungle Babe whimpered, “Oh please. I don’t…I don’t want to cum. Please don’t m-make…me…oohhh…”

Sandra’s fingers had followed the natural curve of her thigh into her hips, tracing up and over until they were stroking and teasing that small expanse of flesh between her belly button and the rise of her mons. Always moving, always tempting, dancing dangerously close to her twitching clit. The threat of contact was enough to make Dana gasp.

She felt a hand, soft and hot, take possession of one of her tits, and had to bite her lip to keep from moaning. Her nipple pulsed gratefully against Sandra’s milking grip; the she-devil had released Dana’s wrists, and had snaked her arm beneath her writhing captive to cradle her in her arms, claiming one of her glorious tits even as her other hand continued to torment the hapless heroine. Yet even though her hands were free, Dana was terrified to move. It took all her willpower just to keep her leg spread apart, and Sandra’s fingers were so close, so dangerously close…if she moved, if she so much as budged, she might interpret it as an attempt to resist.

And then she’d touch her there and Dana would explode. She’s scream…like a slut…not like a slut…oh god please not like a slut…

“I don’t want to cum,” Dana begged piteously. “I don’t want to cum. I don’t want to cum.” It had become like a mantra to her, five simple words that her addled mind could cling to, like driftwood in the tempest of her need. She repeated them endlessly, moaning for mercy. Her breast was a heavy, humming instrument in Sandra’s knowing grasp, while between her legs the unrelenting threat of that final, devastating caress made her pussy absolutely gush. Her poor clit stood proudly hard and ready, throbbing blindly for attention, but she couldn’t give in. She couldn’t close her legs…she couldn’t…

Suddenly, a thought entered her mind, so perfectly simple and clear in the cacophony that she seized upon it helplessly. A shudder ran through her, her eyes cracking open blearily.

“I…I can’t resist…” she moaned, widening her thighs even more. “I’m too close…musn’t resist…musn’t…obey… musn’t cum…musn’t…c-cum…”

At once she felt Sandra pull her in closer, the vamp’s ruby lips fastening hard against her delicate collar and lashing her with her tongue. Jungle Babe shivered and groaned—but did not pull away. Indeed, she found herself sinking more fully into the vile woman’s generous curves, her whole body going limp.

Sandra barely contained a cackle as she felt the beautiful Jungle Babe swoon in her arms. The subjugating power of the mist had done its job perfectly; she had the busty whore completely twisted around.

It was time to finish her off.

She kept her right hand drawing lazy circles and nonsense paths about and around Dana’s heated loins, while her left reluctantly abandoned her prey’s pliant breast to once more seize hold of her thick platinum locks. With a forceful twist, she turned Jungle Babe’s head until they were face to face, mere inches apart. Sandra’s sensual stare was waiting for her, and Dana’s eye’s, cloudy and lidded, were irresistibly drawn into their golden, fiery depths.

Her breath, and the last of her will, poured out of her in a heady sigh.

“Clever girl,” Sandra breathed, letting the hotness of her words wash across Dana’s parted lips, “Brave girl. Trying so, so hard to stay in control. You don’t have to resist me any more. Now you can let go. Now you can…rest…”

Dana was falling. Her pussy was dripping. Her mind, and body, were opening themselves to her sultry seductress’ sinister predations. The words drifted from her lips in an airy whisper, “Rest…yes…must…rest…”

Sandra’s lips drew closer. “Yield to me, sweetling. You cannot resist. You must not resist…”

“C-can’t resist…” Dana whimpered, her voice dwindling, her eyelids sinking, “Must..not…oohh…”

Sandra’s lips brushed against hers, and the words dissolved into a needy sigh. The fingers against her loins suddenly drew still, and then began to slowly, inexorably, move…downward…

“Yesss…” Sandra whispered thickly, “Relax…give in…and submit…to…me…!”

With that, the inhuman she-devil pulled her prey towards her, and consumed her lips in a wet, dominating kiss. Dana was instantly overcome; she moaned submissively, opening her mouth, and passively accepting the thick, monstrous tongue that immediately plunged past her plush lips.

At the same time, Sandra’s hand crested Jungle Babe’s quivering sex mound, and cupped her pussy in a tight, possessive grip. Jungle Babe’s hips thrust against her all too eagerly, her thighs spreading wide. Sandra chuckled derisively as the helpless heroine’s wetness instantly drenched her hand.

She held her like that, careful to keep her hand perfectly still, while her lips and tongue reduced the trembling blonde into a moaning, gasping, whimpering mess. The serpentine organ, meaty thick and monstrously long, writhed and churned in Dana’s unresisting mouth, easily subduing her own before plunging heatedly into the warm recesses of her throat. The raw sexuality of the intrusion made Jungle Babe swoon, and the beguiled blonde responded with pure primal instinct, sucking, licking, and moaning against that monstrous, conquering tongue.

Her pussy lips flushed and spread beneath the gentle pressure from Sandra’s hand, ripe for the taking, desperate to be fucked. She was ready.

With a leonin growl, Sandra retracted her inhuman appendage from Dana’s gasping mouth, smiling in wicked satisfaction when the blonde only reluctantly released it. Her eyes were shut, her face flushed, and her lips spread in open, panting invitation for Sandra to plunge her tongue in again. She did not—could not—resist when the smirking chimera slithered atop her, and pushed her knees alongside her massive, quivering tits.

With her victim’s drooling pussy now completely at her mercy, Sandra swivelled her hips until her own gooey mound was poised hungrily above Jungle Babe’s upturned slit, and then paused, staring down imperiously at the woman she had so fully snared in her sexual spell.

“Listen to me now, darling,” Sandra ordered, adopting the low, commanding tone she knew Jungle Babe’s entranced mind would helplessly respond to, “Listen well, for while your waking mind will forget, your deepest, innermost self will remember; resistance brings pleasure. Resistance will make you…aroused. So aroused. So helplessly hot. But only one thing will bring the release you crave, kitten. You must….submit. You cannot help but submit. Say it now, slave; sssay it…!

Jungle Babe’s eyes fluttered dreamily behind her heavy, closed eyelids as Sandras words etched themselves into the fabric of her being. She licked her lips unconsciously, blindly offering up her hips in small, wanton thrusts. “I…I must submit…I must…sub…miih…oh…oh god…”

“That’s it, slave,” Sandra chortled, readying her hips above Dana’s offered saddle. “Now…here’s your reward…!”

With that, the vile temptress thrust her hips down, and crushed Dana’s throbbing clit against her own. The effect was instantaneous; as soon as Dana felt the hot, slick lips of Sandra’s pussy mash against hers, as soon as their clits met in a sordid, subjugating grind, she exploded. She seized beneath the Beast’s monstrous concubine, and came.

“Ohhh god!” she screamed, her hips dancing and thrusting to meet Sandra’s undulating rhythm, “OH GOD…Y-YESSS!!”

“Mmmmmh! Good little slut,” Sandra giggled as she ground their clits together, “So vocal…so eager…the Master will enjoy conquering you. You’ll love it too, kitten; you’ll love it so much you’ll never want him to stop!”

She moaned, her own long-denied pleasure surging deliciously as she worked their pussies into a frothing, oozing frenzy. Her tail twitched ecstatically behind her, and a sudden, wicked thought occurred to her. She pushed Dana’s knees into the soft ground, forcing her to fully present her sumptuous hips. Rocking forward, Sandra maintained the electric contact between their mutually engorged love buttons, while the thick, rounded head of her tail curved back…

“A slut like you won’t be satisfied just by having her pretty little clit stroked,” Sandra sneered, “No…you need something…like this!”

Dana felt something brush insistently against the gaping mouth of her pussy, and uttered a low, lustful groan. She felt it caress, then press, and after only a heartbeat of resistance her overeager pussy yielded to the marauding appendage, and it sank deeply inside her in a single, slow thrust.

Dana screamed, coming again, the orgasm chasing so close to her first that they seemed to blend into one unceasing wave of mind-melting ecstasy. She panted and writhed beneath Sandra’s weight, clawing senselessly at the soft earth above her head, as Sandra’s tail fucked her mercilessly. With the vicious chimera’s rigid clit bullying and overwhelming her own, and the hot, slick walls of her cunt grasping and sucking hungrily at the serpentine limb sawing inside of her, all thought, all sense of self, was drowned beneath sinful, corrupting pleasure being forced upon her by the Beast’s monstrous concubine. She cried out, tossing her head, her breasts swaying as she rocked back and forth to meet Sandra’s devious, impossibly-deep thrusts.

“Does it feel good, slut?” Sandra hissed, “Or should I stop…?”

“NOOO!” Dana cried, feeling another orgasm rising unstoppably inside her. “Don’t stop! Don’t STOP! OOHH GOD MORE! FUCK ME MORE!!”

Sandra’s golden, feline cats narrowed evilly, a cheshire grin splitting her ruby lips, as she more than happily fulfilled Dana’s wish. She fucked her relentlessly, forcing orgasm after orgasm out of her helpless, willing victim. She was eager to see just how far she could push the conquered heroine before her body finally gave out, and her mind shut down in sweet, blissful oblivion.

Then, she would bring her to the Master…and the little whore’s training would truly begin.

The thought of her Master’s approving stare when she returned with her prize sent her over the edge. With a triumphant moan, Sandra thrust her hips hard against Jungle Babe and joined her writhing prey in sweet, malignant ecstasy.

Jungle Babe — In the Clutches of Cernunnos

Chapter 12: The Maiden’s Ordeal

Authors Note: First of all, I need to thank all the people who were so kind enough to write me and ask about the progress on the story; I realize it’s been a long time since our previous installment, and I appreciate your patience and continued interest in this smutty little yarn. I cannot tell you how much I appreciate the input and the comments, so please, keep them coming. I also need to thank the dear VeronikaLace for proofreading this entry and providing some much-appreciated feedback. Ok, enough from me; you came here to read about heroines in devilish peril, and who am I to hold you back?

* * *

The pale, sickly green illumination of the swirling miasma did little to dispel the creeping darkness in the secluded cave; shadows moved hungrily along the walls and ceiling, giving the illusion of twisted, malevolent life to the shifting dark. The floor of the dim space was totally consumed now by the roiling swirl of the demonic mist, and more of it still pressed eagerly in from the sloping hillside, crawling up towards the cave mouth in an unnatural, eerie tide.

It flowed with sinister intent, guided by an unseen will, to consume the delectable morsel it had snared in its web.

On the cold stone floor, Anna knelt face down, the sensual curve of her ass raised scandalously high behind her. Her pale thighs were spread, and between them her slender hands, the only part of her that still seemed to have any strength left at all, were doing absolutely evil, naughty things. The harried, panting sound of her breathing echoed in the cave, punctuated by sudden, sharp gasps when her knowing fingers touched upon a particularly sensitive spot.

She was dripping. Her wetness soaked her fingers and coated her inner thighs in a tangle of shining trails where her hands had stroked and touched. Her pussy was soaked and swollen, the gaping mouth of her sex sucking hungrily at the slender digits dipping teasingly between her folds. She had no sense of time; she couldn’t remember when she’d started, or how long she’d been touching herself so brazenly; all she knew was the sweet, consuming pleasure flowing from between her widespread thighs, and the ever-mounting desire that compelled her to continue. All other thought, all of her will, was drowned as much beneath that surging wave of lust as by the cloying mist that drew itself into her lungs with every rapid, gasping breath.

All of it felt so distant, so terribly far away to Anna, who could only whimper and moan as her fingers danced to the song of someone else’s will, moving with a life of their own to tease and pleasure and drag her further down their seductive spiral of depravity. All the while, for all their clever motions, they stayed carefully away from the stiff, swollen nub of her clit where it throbbed in neglect at the apex of her sex. They would draw perilously close, but never close enough, and the unfulfilled promise of that forbidden caress was driving her wild with need. But she couldn’t make her fingers obey her any more; they were no longer hers to command. They answered only to the voice now…and Anna could only beg.

“P-please…” she whimpered, pleading into the vacant darkness, “Please…please let me c-cum…oh please…”

The laughter that greeted her seemed to come from everywhere at once, filling the cloudy mess in her head with its honey-thick derision.

Not yet my dear, it oozed, Not yet. I enjoy hearing you moan. I enjoy hearing you beg. Touch yourself more for me, Anna. Let me see you make your pussy ache and your legs tremble…but do not cum. Oh no. You are not allowed to cum…

Anna groaned in despair, but could not resist. She obeyed. She had to obey.

“Nooo…please, no more…!” Anna begged, even as one, then two, fingers slipped easily into her hot slit, “I…mmmnhh….I have to…I have to cum…please…!”

Fear not, little slut, the Voice grinned, I am nearly upon you. Only my touch will end your suffering. Only I can bring you release. Faster. Do it faster.

Anna’s moans filled the chamber, her ass dancing in the air, as she did exactly as she was told.

She had no idea how long it was, the pleasure made it impossible to focus on anything else, but suddenly through her lustful daze she felt something shift in the air; the mist seemed to sigh and part in anticipation of the presence gliding up the slope to the cave. It was not approaching footfalls that met Anna’s ears, but a steady, rhythmic slither. With her back towards the cave mouth, she didn’t see the lithe, feminine shape darken the opening, but she felt it; she sensed she was no longer alone.

“Just what I like to ssseee,” the Voice hissed, suddenly real and not merely a phanstasm anymore, “A slut with her ass in the air, and her legs ssspread wide…!”

Anna shifted drunkenly, trying to turn to see where the voice was coming from, but her bleary eyes couldn’t focus, and the darkness and mist were almost impenetrable. She squirmed helplessly, her skin prickling as she felt sinister eyes roam across her ravenously. Her heart began hammering even faster, and the whole time, her treacherous fingers never ceased their diabolical play between her wantonly spread thighs.

“She’s watching me,” Anna thought dreamily, “She’s watching me and I can’t stop…I don’t want to stop…”

The alien presence exuded an almost aristocratic malevolence, and was so palpably evil that it should have repulsed her completely. Yet Anna was so overcome, so impossibly deep under the witch’s spell that she could only moan and thrust her ass even further into the air. She felt the creature approach, and began to tremble; not in fear, but in anticipation.

When Anna felt the first cool touch of a hand against the curve of her ass, she shuddered, and moaned.

“My my, quite eager, aren’t we?” the woman chortled, slinking down beside Anna’s upturned ass and seizing both cheeks in her sharp, possessive grip. She began to squeeze and knead, pressing into the yielding flesh and pulling them apart to fully expose Anna’s dripping sex, and the naughty fingers still sliding in and out of her grasping cunt.

Anna heard the woman moan approvingly, and felt herself flush.

“So young and pretty…the Master will be pleased. Very pleased, my dear. You will serve him well…!”

Then Anna felt something hot glide wetly across her skin. She shivered, and then gasped when she felt it again. Long. Wet. Undulating as it tasted her fevered flesh. The serpentine length of the woman’s monstrous tongue snaked down the back of her thighs, following the oozing rivulets of feminine wetness that had flowed from her needy pussy. The inhuman, demonic sensation sent her arousal climbing even higher, her fingers now moving even faster as she fucked herself before the monster’s hungry gaze.

It felt good; it felt so wickedly, impossibly good, and yet the orgasm she desperately needed still stayed just out of reach. Her clit…if only she was allowed to touch her clit…!

“Pleaaase…!” Anna whined, her pink lips parting wetly, “Please…I want it…I want it so…bad…!”

But the woman ignored her. With almost casual disdain, she pried Anna’s fingers away from her glistening pussy and pushed them aside. All at once, the borrowed strength that had been animating her arms bled away, and they collapsed limply to the stone floor, as powerless and useless as the rest of her sex-drugged body. She could only lay there in frustration, whimpering, completely open, completely vulnerable to the hellish concubine looming behind her, and to the monstrous tongue slowly crawling towards her drooling sex.

In seconds the woman had licked her thighs clean, leaving her skin tingling and her pussy trembling in anticipation. The woman retracted her sinuous appendage with an audible sigh. “Aahh! The sweet innocence of youth,” she chuckled, planting wet, sucking kisses along the backs of Anna’s thighs. “Not so innocent any more, are you, my little slut?”

She inched closer, until Anna could feel hot breath against her swollen nether ips.

“Shall I do it? Shall I make you cum with my tongue…?”

Anna could barely breathe. “Yessss!” she hissed, arching her back, thrusting her pussy back against the woman’s leering face. “Oh please yes…I…I can’t hold out any longer…please…!”

“Are you sure, my dear? You know what will happen, don’t you? My tongue will fill you up. It will touch places you’ve never felt before. I will fuck your pussy while my fingers toy with your clit, and you’ll cum your pretty little brains out.”

More kisses, this time right against her crimson labia…but painfully little else. Anna groaned in frustration, her clit aching desperately. “But once won’t be nearly enough for a slut like you. Oh no. Just one ride on my tongue and you’ll be helplessly addicted. You’ll crave it; you’ll need it; you’ll be a slave to it…”

She tightened her grip on Anna’s ass, pulling her wide apart, spreading her pussy lips to reveal the luscious, pink flesh within.

“Is that what you want, Anna? Shall I make you my slave?”

The poor girl’s eyes fluttered, and her brow furrowed, as some deeply-drowned part of her struggled to assert itself over the seductive haze beguiling her mind. Dana, it screamed, you have to find Dana. Don’t give up. Don’t give in. No…!

“Nnn…no…” she whimpered weakly, “I…I don’t know, I—I’m…I’m so confused…so—oh…! Oooohhh!!”

The protest caught in her throat as she felt the forked, devilish tip of the woman’s tongue trace oh so lightly, oh so teasingly, along the length of her overheated sex. She tried to focus, to cling to what little resistance she’d been able to find, but it was no use. Back and forth it moved, teasing her, seducing away her will, and all thought of anything other than that sinister tongue just melted away.

“Ssssay it, ssslave…” the woman demanded, “Sssay it…!”

She was too hot to fight her any more. Her heavy eyes sank shut, and her voice, small and needy, whispered her submission.


The tongue ceased its light movements, and suddenly swiped, long and slow, against the full length of Anna’s slit. She gasped, her hips bucking, but the woman’s grip was like iron. She couldn’t escape. She didn’t want to escape. She felt the writhing, bisected tip of the demonic organ slip between her engorged pussy lips and seek out the hot center of her womanhood. She felt it press against the opening of her sex, dipping in, tasting her, taunting her. She groaned.

“Ohh….! Yes….!! I—I want it…I…Ohhh! OOHH!”

It circled and licked, overcoming her body’s resistance, making her belly quiver and her pussy flood. The woman’s tongue moved like liquid silk, smooth and soft yet sinuous and strong at the same time. Two slender fingers fell alongside her throbbing clit, trapping it in a tight V, right before Anna felt that inhuman lingus begin to enter her tight channel.

She cried out, her body convulsing, her hands clawing uselessly at the ground beside her head. “AAHH! Oohhh…Oh my god—It’s—it’s so h-hot…so….OOOHHH!”

Slowly, that massive organ slithered itself deep into her grasping sex, tonguing her insides, making her feel things she never dreamed possible. It was longer and thicker than any cock she’d ever had, and the sheer depths to which it could reach drove the air right out of her lungs. She lay upon the ground, gasping for breath, writhing helplessly as her tender pussy was violated so sensuously that all at once everything the wicked woman claimed seemed true. This was pleasure she couldn’t fight, couldn’t resist; and deep down, Anna knew the awful truth: as soon as she came, she would be addicted. Enslaved. She would do anything to feel that wicked thing inside her again.Yet instead of the horrific dread such realization should have incited, waves of ecstasy battered her senses, setting off bursts of color before her hooded, glassy eyes. Her hips quivered and jumped, totally against her will, while her legs spread themselves even further apart, as if urging, begging her monstrous lover to fill her even more.

Her silky folds clenched tightly against the marauding appendage, but her own wetness, and the impossible smoothness of its muscular body, made it all too easy for the tentacle-like limb to begin thrusting in and out of her in ever-lengthening strokes. Anna cried out, her pleasure, her arousal, igniting into a wildfire. It fucked her, smooth and deep, moving faster and faster as she was filled to the depths of her sex by hot, writhing tongue. More than a cock, inside her it coiled and moved, seeking out and stimulating every secret spot and hidden weakness with unerring prowess, forcing her relentlessly towards a gaping chasm of pleasure so deep she didn’t know if she’d ever find her way back.

The woman’s voice was in her head again, irresistible, hypnotic.


The word sent a shiver of forbidden delight dancing up Anna’s spine. She sighed dreamily, sinking helplessly into the lilting, mellifluous tone. “…y-yes…”

I can feel it coming, slave. Your pussy quivers for my tongue; your clit, so achingly hard between my fingers. Feel the pleasure grow inside you. Nothing else matters. Think only of your need…only of your desire…

The fingers trapping her clit began to move; stroking her, moving in time to the slow, sonorous rhythm of her soft voice. Anna began panting, rocking her hips against the woman’s circling fingers, and her insidious, infernal tongue.

“Yes…” Anna groaned, “OOoooohhh…yeeesssss….!”

The pleasure is taking you away. Far, far away. Feel yourself drifting…falling…deeper and deeper…into the pleasure…into…my…control…

Fingers strummed against her clit. The tongue plunged into her. In and out. Faster and faster. Anna felt the orgasm coming, felt every muscle in her body start to tense.

So close now, my love. Soooo…close…submit to me…cum for me…cum and be enslaved…

She wanted to cry out, she wanted to scream, but she couldn’t breathe. Oh god, she couldn’t breathe…! So she choked, and gasped, and fucked her hips back against the meaty thing that was the source of her pleasure. It was coming. She couldn’t stop. Oh god it was—

CUM, slave. CUM…and be mine…!

At her command, Anna’s body released. All at once, the tension broke, and the mountain of sheer, unimaginable ecstasy came crashing down around her.

She did scream then. She howled her submission. She clawed at the ground as her eyes rolled back and the orgasm drowned her in its merciless tide. She felt it rush through every limb, turning her to jelly. She felt it explode in her pussy, her nectar spilling thickly onto the sinuous tongue still swelling inside her. Worst of all, she felt it in her mind; or rather, she felt what it did.

With the pleasure came bliss. It fell upon the landscape of her mind like a blanket of heavy, white snow, smothering all thought, all sense of self. As she quivered upon the ground, her mind going blank, a sweet, simple smile spread across her face.

The woman’s tongue kept her trapped on the swell of that insidious orgasm for as long as she could stand; when at last it relented, and the final waves of pleasure had at last stopped battering her ruinous psyche, she felt herself sink into a thick, smothering glow that suffused her feverish body.

The woman’s voice was in the warmth with her, pulling her down…down. Good little slave…your body is filled with pleasure, making you so warm…so weak. But cumming made you tired, didn’t, slut? Yesss…so tired…so very, very tired…It would be so easy to close your eyes. To fall asleep. Do it now, slave. Just relax…Listen to my voice. Drift away on my voice. Sleep…Sleeeeep…

There was nothing Anna could do to resist the allure of that infernal lullaby. She sighed breathily, her heavy eyes fluttering…and then she was gone.

With her prey now totally subdued, Carmen retracted her massive tongue with a low, evil chuckle. Without her hands supporting her, Anna collapsed to the misty cavern floor, completely and deeply asleep.Carmen surveyed her latest conquest with a sinister grin. So pretty. So delicious. She would make an excellent servant for the Master, and when she wasn’t being fucked senseless on his beastly cock, she would lie nestled in Carmen’s own serpentine embrace, filling her chamber with the sounds of her sweet, helpless cries.

With lurid plans already coiling themselves together in her mind, the wicked chimera lifted the sleeping young woman into her arms, cradling her as she slithered out of the cave into the bleak, dark night.

* * *

The nightmarescape of the Beast’s forest was no longer silent.

Beneath a glutinous, gaping moon, the gnarled and twisted branches of a thousand decrepit trees clawed scabrously at the sky, like a morgue of skeletal arms rising up from a sea of soupy, shifting mist. Gone were the calls of birds and the chatter of insects; gone were the stealthy footfalls of its animal kine. The wind howled mournfully through the corrupted woods, sending the great web of oozing, tumorous tendrils swaying madly in the dark.

Under that hellish canopy, unspeakable things moved.

Shuffling about, blind yet preternaturally aware, the Beast’s corrupted legions flowed between the trees on an infernal sojourn of their own. Men, or things that once were men, heeding the call of their demonic master, shambled to pay homage at the temple of his power. These were his supplicants. These were his disciples. And they came bearing gifts.

Slung across the shoulders of some of the once-men were the limp, naked bodies of over a dozen women. Many of them were the former residents of Anna’s fallen town, while others had been travellers, hikers, caught along the way. Some of them tried to fight still, screaming and beating uselessly at the horrors carrying them away, but they were the exception; the great majority had long since fallen prey to the mist’s debilitating influence, and could only tremble and whimper helplessly in the arms of their captors, as their minds and bodies slowly succumbed to the vile vapor’s corrupting power.

Sandra watched them approach from the crumbling entrance to her Master’s demesne. What the old Sandra might have regarded with utter horror and despair, she only saw with swelling pride. Always and with every moment, her Master’s power continued to wax; these creatures would fill the temple once more with prayers and servitude. They would give her god the honor he was due. And the women…

She grinned savagely.

The women would only feed his endless hunger, kindling for his lust. They were the beginning of his harem, a stable of breedmares for his amusement. She and her sisters—his Priestesses, his Brides—would lord over them all.

She felt her own sinister desires smolder hotter still; perhaps she’d pluck a few of the choicest ones to serve her personally…after she sampled their delightful charms.

She felt a presence behind her, and she half-turned to see Carmen slither up the hillside, cradling a pale, naked form in her arms. She crooked an eyebrow at her serpentine sister.

“Taken a liking to that one, I see?” she quipped, eyeing Anna’s pretty face with undisguised lust. Carmen smiled coyly.

“She has certain attributes I find highly…desirable. A strong spirit. A delicious innocence. A—”

“A hot little cunt?” Sandra finished for her. Carmen simply pursed her lips in an inscrutable smile, and shrugged nonchalantly.

“I’ve always had a weakness for the sweet ones,” she confessed, “But what of you, dear sister? Was your hunt a success?”

Sandra sniffed the air, tossing her mane in feigned outrage. “Would I be standing here if it wasn’t? Of course I caught her. The slut never stood a chance.”

She gestured into the temple. “I left her where the Master ordered. She was still too far gone to realize what was happening; I may have been a tad…overzealous…with my affections. She’s in for quite a surprise when her muddled little mind manages to pull itself together.”

She chewed her plump bottom lip. “I only wish I could be there to see her face, but the Master was very explicit.”

She nodded down the hill, towards a cluster of shambling abominations making their way to the temple. “The illustrious Jungle Babe was not all I stumbled across on my hunt. Behold.”

Carmen turned to follow Sandra’s gaze, and gasped. There, hefted on the shoulders of three of the monstrous once-men, was the limp, slime-soaked body of their sister, Angie. The woman was insensate, twitching and murmuring unintelligibly as the creatures carried her into the temple. As she passed close to them, Carmen saw the white slits of her rolled-back eyes, and smelled the thick, salty odor of the gallons of tentacle slime still dripping wetly off every inch of her quivering body. She shot Sandra a glance.

“Angie? What happened to her? It looks like—”

“The little slut thought she might preempt my hunt by capturing our two intruders by herself,” she said, watching the redhead pass by with open disdain, “It appears she overestimated her abilities. Jungle Babe mentioned their encounter during our battle, and curious, I went looking. She wasn’t hard to find. The forest was having its merry way with her, and I could hear her moans from half a mile away.”

Carmen shook her head sadly. “She always was the impetuous one,” she lamented. “Leave her to me. I’ll have her cleaned up. She’s going to be almost useless until the forest’s seed is cleansed from her body.”

“Why bother?” Sandra sighed, “What do you think the Master’s going to do with her anyway? She’ll be walking bow-legged for a week, if she’s lucky!”

“Be that as it may,” Carmen chided her sister, “The Master prefers a fresh canvas when he goes to work, and I’m sure he’ll want her…re-education…to be as thorough as possible.”

Sandra snorted. “Were you this diplomatic in your former life too?”

The snake-woman only nodded beatifically, “It comes with experience, my love. Not all of us can be as passionate as you.”

* * *

Some time prior…

* * *


Atop the monstrously proportioned mattress, trapped beneath a soaring canopy of tattered fabric held aloft by four twisting, snake-headed columns that served as the corner posts of the bed, the naked, voluptuous figure of Miss Americana stirred in her restless sleep. The raven-haired beauty’s crimson lips were parted and panting—even in the depths of her sordid nightmares she knew no respite—and her body was covered in a light sheen of glistening perspiration.

Above her, four serpentine pillars topped with looming snake heads peered down upon her mercilessly, their fanged jaws open wide to allow a slow, constant current of thick, green miasma to vomit forth from their stone gullets. It oozed and coiled as it fell, swirling around the scale-carved pillars to splash upon the silken bedsheets. There, each of the four gouts of malignant vapor moved with unnatural purpose, swirling towards the warm, naked body of the helpless female bound to the bed, where they enveloped her in a dense, formless cloud of corrupting vapor. With her slender limbs held in a loose spread-eagle, she could do nothing to oppose the silent, smoky caress of the vile mist across every inch of her achingly sensitized skin. It wrapped itself around her legs; her arms; her waist. Long wispy tendrils coiled around her tits, stroking in endless, crawling spirals from their base all the way up their quivering hills and flickering repeatedly across her rigidly erect nipples. Fingers of mist stroked her cheeks, brushed against her lips, and snared around her neck in a thick collar of fog.

And between her legs…oh god, between her legs…!

Brenda…open your eyes…Brendaaa…

She twisted to one side, shifting as far as the delicate chains binding her ankles and wrists would allow, shivering despite the warmth of the dark chamber. Her brow furrowed in distress. “N-no, no, please…no m-more,” she pleaded, the mighty heroine’s once confident voice weak and wavering. “Please…I’m so tired…have to…have to rest…please…”

But the sinister voices paid her no heed. Their low murmurings began to grow in volume, rising like a tide of whispers at the same time the languid movement of the mist began to accelerate. The creeping tendrils gliding across her naked body began moving faster, agitated in anticipation of the feast that was to come. Their cacophony of airy sighs filled Miss Americana’s mind, pulling her slowly but irresistibly back to consciousness, and as her mind reawakened to the hopelessness of the situation, she became more and more aware of the surreptitious, infernal heat smoldering inside her.

“Nooo…oh god no…!” Miss Americana groaned in dismay as her bleary eyes cracked open, only to find the now-familiar sight of those four wide, open mouths waiting to greet her. The stone serpents glared down upon her balefully, their carved, slitted eyes showering her with palpable evil.

Not for the first time, the captive heroine pulled at the chains binding her wrists and ankles, but the delicate links didn’t so much as strain. She groaned in frustration, her trembling arms and legs soon tiring from the effort and falling limply back onto the bed. The same Miss Americana who could normally drop a two hundred pound goon in a single punch could barely move her limbs at all, but it wasn’t just fatigue; her entire body felt suffused with a deep, penetrating warmth, a sleepy languor that left her as weak as a kitten.

She could not escape.

Brenda…give yourself to us….

The voices made her heart pound frantically. Her uneven, harried breathing only became even more anxious as she stared up with her wide, glazed eyes, reflexively trying to find a source for the soft, sinister sound hissing in her ear. But there was nothing, only the mist; everywhere the mist. Formless. Musky. Making her head swim.

It didn’t stay formless for long.

Slowly, the seemingly random whirls and eddies of the fog began to coalesce, becoming more substantial, more overt. Soon Miss Americana saw that the air around her was filled with…things. Like beasts in the wood, they slipped and circled around her, always just out of the corner of her eye, making her jump and startle every time she caught a glimpse of their vast and indiscernible forms. Suddenly the thick mist seemed to have depth and dimension, as if she weren’t just lying upon an accursed bed in the depths of the Beast’s temple but actually somewhere else. Somewhere wild. Somewhere dangerous.

The room around, already indistinct because of the mist, only fell further away until she could no longer see the walls, or the ceiling; the only thing substantially left was the soft mattress beneath her, the monstrous snake pillars hemming her in, and the tinkling, lacey chains binding her to them.

Then, the surreal dreamscape was filled with a long, airy sigh, accompanied by a sudden stillness falling over the fog. Miss Americana saw something approaching the foot of the bed, and craned her head to see. The sight that greeted her made her gasp.

Through the fog came a lithe, sensual form made seemingly out of the very mist itself; its body was pale and its edges indistinct, a ghostly apparition given form by the fog. It was female, stunning…and totally naked. Billowing hair of flowing mist flowed behind her like a buoyant, weightless halo. She smiled at Miss Americana beatifically, but the utter whiteness of her eyes conveyed nothing but unvarnished evil. She stopped at the foot of the bed, between Miss Americana’s obscenely spread legs, staring at her lustfully.

A moment later and she was joined by two more phantoms, each just as beguiling as her, one standing to each side of the great bed. They stood there, silently, while all around the air was filled with low, secretive whispering. Miss Americana swivelled her heavy eyes from one woman to another, desperately trying to overcome the pinning lethargy that bade her lie still for them, to lie open to them.

‘Open…?’she started, ‘Where…where had that thought come from…?’

Miss Americana didn’t know who, or what, the women were, but she knew what they meant to do…and yet even as her mind whimpered in dread and dismay, her body felt something else entirely. To her horror, she felt the dark, smoldering arousal inside her ignite in lurid anticipation. Her big, inviting breasts felt heavy and alone, aching with vague neglect, while her nipples hardened to obedient and eager prominence. Her skin flushed, the sheets feeling suddenly so cool and soothing against her feverish back and ass. Worst of all, she could feel her pussy starting to quiver. The smooth lips of her labia were starting to swell; her clit slowly starting to rise, seemingly of its own volition, until it stood pulsing and proud from out beneath its little hood. She could feel herself getting wet, damnably, incriminatingly wet, at the mere thought of what these creatures meant to do.

And there was nothing she could do to stop them.

“N-no…” Miss Americana groaned as the women alighted upon the mattress, moving with feline grace as they crawled towards her naked body. Their ethereal forms did nothing to disturb the rumpled, silk bedsheets; they did not press into the soft mattress at all. They flowed over it, weightless, incorporeal; phantoms of wickedness created from the mist.

They fell upon Miss Americana like wolves.

She let out a desperate cry of alarm as the first woman reached her feet, pale, ghostly fingers reaching up to stroke over the firm flesh of her thighs as she gazed hungrily at the bare, puffy lips of the prone heroine’s pussy. At the same time, the other two reached for her jutting tits with their hands of pale, coiling smoke.

Miss Americana shut her eyes, bracing herself for what was to come—not the sinful, salacious touch of their hands upon her body, but rather the gnawing, unrelenting ABSENCE of that touch.

Low, sultry voices filled her ears.

“Pretty girl…tell us what you want, pretty girl…” the one to her left whispered, rolling her hand over Brenda’s luscious tit while her other moved to cup the panting brunette’s flushed cheek. Her white, sightless eyes betrayed the malevolence beneath the sweetness of her voice, and Miss Americana shuddered in both fear and helpless arousal.

“Did you miss us? We missed you…we want to be with you…always…” the one to her right moaned, just before she opened her vaporous mouth and fell upon Miss Americana’s other breast like a ravenous slut. The image made the helpless heroine cry out in dismay, and then screw her eyes shut to try and banish it from sight.

“NO!” she hissed vehemently, “I—I don’t…I don’t want this! Be-begone, all of you, l-leave me—AH!”

A sudden, teasing buffet of motion between her thighs made her eyes snap open in alarm, and to her horror Miss Americana saw the last of the ghostly women resting languidly between them, her cherubic face propped up casually on a slender hand. Smiling eyes stared hungrily up at Miss Americana as she used the pale, smoking fingers of her other hand to lightly stroke and pet the woman’s dewy nether lips. She chewed her bottom lip coquettishly.

“You can’t lie to us,” she lilted, “We know how aroused you are. We are here because you called us. We are here because you need us…“

“Yesss!” the one beside her hissed, “You need attention. You need relief…!”

“Being all tied up like this,” her twin sighed, circling her tongue around Brenda’s captive nipple, “All helpless and vulnerable, it makes you drip, doesn’t it? Don’t be frightened…we know…”

“We know everything…!” the one between her legs smiled. She fixed Miss Americana with her smoldering gaze, and slowly began to lower her lips to the heroine’s smooth mound. “Like, how sensitive you are, my dear.“

“S-stop it,” Brenda whimpered, unable to tear her heavy eyes away as those ghostly lips drew closer and closer, and her clit began to throb in anticipation. “This—this isn’t real! You’re not real!”

“But you want us to be, don’t you?” the one to her right whispered salaciously. She pawed Miss Americana’s breast—or seemed to; her hand roved eagerly over the soft flesh, and yet all Miss Americana felt was the prickling of her skin as it became super-sensitized, eagerly awaiting the sensation of the touch she could see but not actually feel.

That’s how it was…everywhere.

The mouth on her nipple should be sending delicious pangs of wet, suckling pleasure straight to her pussy; there should be the sensation of tongue and teeth worrying her distended nipple, and yet there was nothing but the aching tightness in her breast as the touch never came. She grimaced, and thrashed weakly in her chains; the apparitions wavered as her body sluiced through them, but they reformed as soon as she was still, and went right back to their wicked intentions.

It was devastating; every panting breath drew in heavy lungfuls of the malicious poison rolling down from the gaping serpent mouths, suffusing her body with the thick, sexy malaise that had made her so vulnerable to the Beast in the first place, and yet there was no one to answer her body’s increasingly-desperate calls. There was no one to touch her. No one to embrace her. No hands to grasp or tongues to taste or cocks to wantonly spread herself for.

There was only the mist. The damnable, enveloping mist, and these haunting apparitions who did nothing but promise pleasure and goad for her submission. Even now, their senseless whispers collapsing into airy moans, she opened her eyes to watch the woman between her legs making an absolutely lewd show of licking a ghostly tongue along her heedlessly responsive slit.

She watched in fascinated dismay how her tongue undulated and danced, hopelessly fantasizing about exactly what those sinful motions would do to her, and uttering a guttural moan of frustration.

“This isn’t real!” Miss Americana wailed, pounding her fists against the mattress above her head. She shook her head, then whimpered as the dizziness that followed made her eyes roll white. “It’s not real…It’s not…Oh god it’s not real…” she sobbed.

But even so, her body burned; every inch of her was flushed and exquisitely sensitized. Her nipples throbbed. Her pussy was flooding. Miss Americana was as primed for sex as she’d never been before. God, even the sensation of the sheets gliding against her skin as driving her mad. Could she cum that way? Just from writhing atop a bed like a wanton slut?

She didn’t know. She thought she might. If she’d been able to close her thighs, to apply just a little pressure to her aching clit; or if she could reach her breasts to play with their softness, their weight, and their proud peaks; god, even if she could slip a finger into her mouth and close her eyes and pretend it was a cock that she could just suck and suck and—

Her eyes snapped open, wide and glassy, staring up at those merciless statues and feeling so, so small. She could do none of those things. She could barely move. She was so, so fucking hot and she couldn’t move…! It was too much. It was more than horrible. It would have been easier to be at the mercies of the Beast’s women-slaves, or his monstrous plants, or even pinned beneath the Monster himself. Any of those would have been easier, kinder—at least then she might be able to lose herself in the moment, to drown away in the pleasure and know nothing at all, but THIS…?

She felt everything…and yet she felt nothing…and it just. Wouldn’t. STOP.

A tear raced down the side of her face, staining the silk bed. “P-please…” she begged, not for the first time since her ordeal had started a lifetime ago, “Please…oh god please…I can’t…I’m going mad…I have to feel something. I have to TOUCH something…! PLEASE!”

“You can touch me, Brenda,” one of the girls giggled, rising up to dangle her perfect, swinging breasts in Miss Americana’s face. “Please lick them,” she sighed, “Kiss them. Take my nipples into your mouth…”

Brenda’s eyes fluttered shut, and even though she knew it was an illusion, still she whimpered, “…yesss…yes, I want—I want them…yes…” and she opened her mouth to let the phantasm press a ghostly tit against her lips. God, she could just imagine it—the hard, fleshy nipple stiffening even further under her tongue while the softness pressed against her face. She moaned, and let her tongue do just that, sending it to circle around the formless figure looming over her. So consumed was she that she never noticed the one on her other side rising to her knees, and spreading her thighs, until the woman extended a misty hand and sank her fingers into Miss Americana’s lustrous black hair.

“And me, pretty girl,” she cooed, “Don’t forget me. I have something you want. Look!”

Miss Americana opened her heavy eyes obediently, and gasped when she saw the long, veiny cock swinging slowly where the girl’s smooth vulva should have been. A light tingling against her scalp told her to turn her head, and she did so, so that the girl only had to lean forward with her hips to send that perfectly erect cock right at her mouth.

She drew it in, mewling eagerly around the fog construct as she fellated it as if it were a real, flesh-and-blood member. God to have one in her mouth right then, all meaty and masculine and leaking precum onto her swirling tongue…!

The woman hadn’t prompted her, but Miss Americana began bobbing her head forward, desperate to do something—anything—that might earn her some mercy. But even as the first woman went back to teasing her breasts and the second was busy feeding her that phantom cock, the third had spun herself around to scissor her legs with Miss Americana’s own, the subtle pressure against her thighs all that was necessary to encourage them to bend and spread so that the apparition could begin grinding her their pussies together. The woman threw her head back in utter ecstasy as she rocked her hips and clutched at Brenda’s legs, clearly losing herself to the sensation even as Brenda cruelly felt nothing at all.

Her desire only climbed; hotter now than she could ever remember it being before. She trembled. She sobbed. She leaked shameful juices from her needy cunt and stained the bed. She looked wildly from ghost to ghost, her eyes wet with tears. “PLEASE!” she begged, “Please, let me cum, I need to cum!! I’ll do anything! Oh god ANYTHING!”

All three smiled at her, and when they spoke, it was as one low, sweetly-seductive voice. “We can’t help you, beautiful one…Only He can alleviate your suffering. Only He can bring you the pleasure you so desperately need. Pray for His mercy. Pray for his affection!

“Pray…to Cernunnos!”

Miss Americana groaned as if mortally wounded, her back arching, her head falling heavily back against the sheets. She was panting as she writhed and twisted in her chains, bound by her desire more than the flimsy golden metal. This is how it always ended; the teasing would crescendo into this demand for supplication, for submission. Every other time the ancient, evil sound of the Beast’s name had been enough to jolt her out of whatever lustful fog the mist wove across her mind. Whatever reserves of resistance she harbored would spill forth, and she’d utter an angry denial, unwilling to debase herself to that…THING. And then the ghosts would vanish. The moans would cease. The fog would become silent again.

And she’d be left alone.




Over. And over. And over again.

This time though, the rush of anger didn’t come. Perhaps she’d finally reached the limits of her willpower. Perhaps the mist had finally consumed the last ounce of her resistance. Or perhaps the despair of facing another endless rise (and rise, and RISE) of pulse-pounding arousal with utterly no hope of relief finally broke her spirit.

For whatever reason, this time, when the trio of specters demanded her submission…she gave it.

“…y-yesss…!” the word whispered quietly from her lips, yet seemed to reverberate like thunder in the mist-filled chamber. And just as she said it, it was like the dam had broke, and all the pleading she had tried so hard to hold back just wanted to spill out, all at once.

“YES!” she cried, louder now, twisting on the bed. “Please…I’m begging you…your slut is begging you,” she moaned, “Masster…! Master, please…!“

She drew in a full breath, her breasts heaving, and then she sobbed out, “Fuck me! Please fuck me! I need it! I NEED YOU!! PLEASE!!!”

Her voice echoed in the darkness, and the creatures of the mist seemed to sigh in exultation, their myriad voices rising like a chorus of subjugation all around her, adding their own prayers to hers—

Until He answered.

“Good girl.”

A ragged shudder wracked Miss Americana as the sound of that deep, mellifluous voice flowed over her like deep, warm water. She froze on the bed, blinking her teary eyes and trying to discern the shape that approached her in the mist. It flowed and parted, shifting away at the silent command of its evil god, revealing the monster in all his horrible glory.

The Beast stood at the foot of the bed, hulking and tall, the great crown of antlers rising from his brow gleaming in the dim light. Burning eyes smoldered as he looked down upon the overwhelmed Miss Americana, who found herself staring up at him in gaping, flushed infatuation.

“Y-you’re here…!” she whimpered, as if unable to believe it, “You’re—ooohhhh!”

Her voice dissolved into an airy sigh as her eyes traveled down his imposing physique and fell helplessly again to the shadowy patch between his thighs—and the thick, throbbing monster of a cock that lurked there. Miss Americana’s mind went completely blank, as all thought of resistance, all worries of shame simply melted away.

There was only one thing left on her mind, and it was right there. Long, and hot, and dripping.

The Beast gestured with a clawed hand, and at once the chains at her wrists and ankles broke away with a melodious, metallic snap. Miss Americana rose onto her elbows, still hopelessly fixated on the monster’s swollen cock as he climbed onto the bed. Her eyes followed it as it swayed, her lips parting in abject adulation. Reflexively, she licked her lips, her mouth suddenly salivating.

“Spread for me, slut,” the Beast intoned, sneering at his prey through fanged teeth. Miss Americana groaned, her head lolling back as his order sent the most delicious, submissive ripples through her overheated body.

“Yes,” she moaned towards the ceiling, “Yes, Master. Oh yesss…!” Obediently, the fallen champion of Delta City bent her trembling knees and allowed her creamy thighs to spread totally, baring her swollen, weeping sex before his lascivious gaze.

The Beast chuckled derisively as he moved between her legs, kneeling now as he brought the barbaric head of his cock in line with her quivering pussy. She stared blankly into the swirling, hypnotic embers of his eyes as he angled his hips, and drove himself inside.

She screamed as her body seized in total, instant ecstasy as the first physical contact she’d experienced in days spread apart her glistening labia and plunged potently deep into her dripping cunt. She collapsed back onto the bed as the strength was driven from her quaking arms, and she arched her back as the orgasm she’d so desperately craved came crashing down around her, making her body sing.

The Beast grabbed her behind the knees, forcing her legs back until they were pinned beside her massive breasts, and at once the mighty Miss Americana was as open and spread as any woman could possibly be before the rampaging monster that was plunging into her pussy. The Beast leered at her triumphantly as he began to saw his thick cock into her, setting off fresh waves of will-crushing, addicting pleasure with every turn of his hips.

Instantly, the hours of denial and torment by the corrupting mist took their horrible toll. Miss Americana’s voice filled the chamber with its helpless, ograsmic cries as she was filled and taken, again and again, by the great Horned God. Like kindling, her body and soul ignited in a searing blaze of wanton, hellish desire that could only be quenched by the thick, oozing spend already dribbling from the monster’s engorged cock.

When the first jet of subjugating cum erupted inside her, filling her and spilling out around his thrusting member to pool between her thighs, Miss Americana screamed; she screamed in pleasure, in submission, in joy. The monster never stopped. His unyielding member had no sooner finished releasing inside her once then he was fucking her again. His long tongue lashed at her breasts, coating them in saliva and making them glisten and purr. His eyes burned into hers, which could only stare, sightless, blank, and half-closed, as he totally subsumed her will with his infernal desire.

There was nothing left of her valiant spirit in her glazed, hooded eyes; there was only need.



She did not resist at all when he drew her up from the bed and pulled her onto his lap to impale her on his upright cock. She mewled and arched her back, offering up her heaving tits to his suckling mouth. She groaned gratefully as he took her hips in sharp, clawed hands, and began drawing her up and down his veined shaft.

“Who do you serve, slut?” the Beast snarled, burying himself to the hilt.

She moaned, her eyes fluttering, as she was effortlessly forced to cum again, clutching weakly at the furred mantle of his chest for support. “You…!” she gasped, “I—I serve you…OHH! Oh, Master, OH YES! HHngGH!!”

“Yes,” the monster hissed, eyes flashing triumphantly. “And now you are mine…Forever.”

The sounds of her grateful screams echoed long into the night.

8 thoughts on “Jungle Babe vs Cernunnos”

      1. Please let me have a copy of your continued stories of soul in shadows work if you are carrying on his good work, PS do you know why he stopped so close to the end of the saga of ms Americana and jungle babe


      2. Dear ‘hellofacritic’, if you are going to finish off soulinshadow’s work according to his notes, well come on, give it a go !! also do you know why ‘sins’ as I call him retired from writing, ps any correspondence would be appreciated


  1. I read all of soul in Shadow’s erotic heroine stories, they were some of the best ever written, I loved ms Americana vs the horned god which continued in jungle babe vs cernunnos, I spoke to “sins” (soul in shadow) by email several times and he was very helpful and I looked forward to the further corruption and defilement of ms Americana, now a willing sex slave of cernunnos and assistance in finishing off jungle babe after her lesbian submission to one of the horned god’s acolytes, but everything thing ceased suddenly a couple of years ago, if you know any more, please let me know, or if the stories will ever be completed, to the heroines detriment of course, all hail Cernunnos, regards DYMONDCHRIS, a fan of quality erotic stories


  2. I read all of soul in Shadow’s erotic heroine stories, they were some of the best ever written, I loved ms Americana vs the horned god which continued in jungle babe vs cernunnos, I spoke to “sins” (soul in shadow) by email several times and he was very helpful and I looked forward to the further corruption and defilement of ms Americana, now a willing sex slave of cernunnos and assistance in finishing off jungle babe after her lesbian submission to one of the horned god’s acolytes, but everything thing ceased suddenly a couple of years ago, if you know any more, please let me know, or if the stories will ever be completed, to the heroines detriment of course, all hail Cernunnos, regards DYMONDCHRIS, a fan of quality erotic stories




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