The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

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—”

“Beer.”

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.”