The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

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.

“...y-yes…!”

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.

Ssslave…

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…

* * *

Brenda...

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.

Panting.

Needing.

Wanting.

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.

Acceptance.

Submission.

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.