Jungle Babe — In the Clutches of Cernunnos
Chapter 2: In the Garden of Evil
Dana McQueen, or Jungle Babe, as the press had named her, was barely cognizant of her surroundings as she charged with reckless speed through the green canopy of Whitestone forest. She was moving totally by instinct, deftly maneuvering through the tangled branches with barely a second glance. This was second nature to her, and she could move as quickly through heavy foliage as a fish could swim through water. As the trees opened up into a partial clearing up ahead, she pushed herself faster still. On the final tree, she grabbed hold of a higher branch like a gymnast would grab a bar, using her momentum to vault into the open air of the clearing. Her body twisted in a tight somersault, flipping once, twice, before she landed perfectly on a solid branch of maple across the wide, empty expanse. Here she paused, breathing quickly but easily. She took stock of her bearings.
She’d been moving for a few hours now, trekking deep into the woods towards the hills where Miss Americana’s last transmission had been traced. It had been some time since she’d encountered the wolf pack, and since then, the woods had been eerily silent. Normally, the pulse of life would be all around her, suffusing the green space in layers of bustling, secret activity. The unnatural quietude made her terribly uneasy. Even the insects were quiet.
She had to be getting closer. From her vantage point, she could almost make out the rise of the Whitestone Hills in the far distance. The bright moon overhead did its best to illuminate the sleeping forest below, but ahead of her, a shifting haze was slowly growing thicker. Almost like a cloud had sunk to hug the forest itself, a pale, gauzy softness was masking the distant trees from view.
That must be it, she thought to herself; the mists the wolves had been fleeing from.
She glanced down at the forest floor some twenty feet beneath her. Through the lower branches, she could see the heavily leaf-strewn ground, and upon it, she caught her first real look at the strange fog the Old Wolf had spoken so fearfully of. Writhing in thin, long currents, exploratory tendrils wove in and out of the tangled underbrush, serpents of sickly green that shone eerily in the dark. She was still too far from the center of the cloud to see much more than one or two rivulets of the stuff, but even looking just a few dozen yards ahead, she could see them growing thicker.
Trepidation and caution twisted in her midsection, but her resolve kept them in check. She didn’t know what the stuff was, but as long as she kept to the tree branches, it looked as though she’d be able to avoid it. For now, at least.
Dana began to notice other things changing as she ventured further into the forest. Besides the steadily-thickening fog, the entire coloration of the woods was starting to shift. The vibrant green she had just passed through was becoming mottled with the Autumn colors of oranges and yellows, and every breeze that passed by seemed to sing with the rustle of falling leaves. At the same time, the trees themselves seemed to grow...paler, somehow, their bark turning an odd shade of white. She paused at one point to take a closer look, but when she brushed her hand against the rough wood, it chipped away almost like roughly hewn plaster, brittle and dry.
“The trees, are they dying?” she wondered in mute shock. But that didn’t seem right either; beneath the crumbling
bark the wood seemed vibrant, almost...pulsing, and an unusually thick, pale sap wept slowly out from the ragged gash she’d left in the tree’s skin.
God. It almost looks like they’re…bleeding.
She failed to suppress a shudder.
Something was happening to the trees, that much was clear, but what exactly she had no way of guessing. Whatever corruption festered at the center of this miasma was slowly spreading its infection outward, with no telling of how far it would continue if it went unopposed. There were little villages scattered along the perimeter of the forest, both affluent city dwellers and their getaway homes, and the natives whose presence here traced back generations.
The mist might even now be bearing down on their very doors. But even beyond them, Delta City itself was only a few scant miles away.
The scope of it made Dana pause. Things were worse than she thought they’d be; much worse. She might very well be in over her head; what she thought was a straight-forward search and rescue was clearly far more significant, and her failure would mean not only disaster for herself and Miss Americana, but for hundreds of innocent people.
Should she turn around, try to get help from the city? How much time did she have?
How much time did Brenda have?
She wrestled with those thoughts, but she already knew what her answer would be. She couldn’t back down now. She had to stop whatever was happening here before it got any stronger. Help might be days from coming, and by then it might be too late...both for the city, and for Miss Americana.
She would have to do it alone.
Steeling her resolve, Dana resumed her death-defying charge through the rapidly-thinning tree tops. In some ways, the gravity of the situation imbued her movements with a new rush of vigor; she ran faster, jumped further, her body hummed like a finely tuned engine rushing to redline. Failure was not an option. She would save Brenda. She would stop this monster.
She was the queen of the fucking jungle.
It was this surge of confidence that boosted her charge into the misty woods; unfortunately for Dana, the forest did not share in her burning spirit. As she righted her flip to land deftly on the broad tree limb she’d been aiming for, she heard a brittle crackle that made her heart stop cold. Despite its girth, nearly a foot and a half thick, the tree branch she’d landed on was as fragile as kindling. The force of her impact caused it to break from the trunk in a spray of ashen splinters. In a heartbeat, she was suddenly in freefall.
A normal person would have plummeted to the ground, but Dana was hardly normal. With the grace of a cat, she shifted her momentum and rolled into a backwards flip, catching sight of a lower branch as she fell. Her hands lashed out to grab it, and for a moment, it felt as though the shuddering limb would hold her weight...but seconds later, she heard that wrenching crackle again, and once more she was falling.
This time, she was going to hit ground.
She braced herself for the impact, turning again in midair. The branch had at least managed to break her fall, but even so the drop was at least twenty feet. She touched down as lightly as possible, landing on all fours to distribute her weight and let her core absorb the impact. She winced as her muscles strained, but rushed with relief when she did not feel her wrists or ankles shatter at the collision. The softness of the ground helped. All around her, wooden debris rained down from the sickly treetops, covering her in pale, brittle bark and glass-stem twigs.
When the hail of detritus had ceased, Dana risked looking up, and saw the tunnel of broken branches her fall had left in its wake. The tree itself was just slowing its sway, but for as brittle as its branches had become, the main body seemed mercifully (and strangely) resilient. Pale sap was already bubbling out of the cracked bases of the branches, dripping to the ground in heavy, sticky streams. She stood up gingerly, and checked herself for any unnoticed wounds.
A few scrapes, a few spots that were sure to bruise, and a wounded ego, but besides that she felt no worse for wear. There was no question, the trees were no longer a safe avenue for her to traverse. She’d have to make it along the ground. But, that meant...
Dana whirled, eyes searching the forest floor. They found what she was looking for, and her heart started racing just a little faster.
The force of her fall had generated enough of a gust that it had created a small, clear circle on the forest floor, but now the slow tide of the mist was flowing back in to fill the gap. It spilled along the leafy sod, rolling with blind liquidity, until it was lapping at her legs, ankle deep.
It had to be a trick of the eye, but she could swear the stuff was actively moving toward her.
At the first touch of the unnatural mist against her skin, Jungle Babe couldn’t help but shudder. It did not look or feel like any fog she’d ever encountered in the wild before; it was strangely thick, clinging, and felt weirdly oily against her skin. She looked uneasily around her at the pale, twisted trees. Exposure to this stuff was clearly not in her best interests. She needed to hurry and try to find some higher ground.
The trouble was, the mist was getting thick enough here that the ground was almost perfectly blanketed by the stuff, like slowly roiling snow, such that she couldn’t see it hardly at all. As much as she wanted to rush headlong through the forest, without being able to pick her footfalls she was liable to catch a root and twist an ankle, or worse. No, she would have to move carefully, but quickly. Thankfully, the moon overhead was more clearly visible now that the leaf cover was breaking, and the moonlight reflected off the mist to cast everything in muted, pale light. She checked her bearings, made mental note of the direction she needed to continue traveling, and set out.
The going wasn’t as slow as she’d feared, but it was harder. The ground was unusually loamy, and her feet sank into the leafy soil mix with every step. It was almost like walking on damp sand. It wasn’t long before her hurried pace and the too-yielding ground had her legs burning from the exertion. The heat from her effort coupled with the dank humidity made it feel like steam was coming off her body. Rivulets of cool perspiration would periodically run down her back and into the deep well of her cleavage. She was breathing heavier, more so than she’d expected.
Half an hour of walking later, with the mist growing steadily thicker as she went, Dana was breathing hard. As the mist had continued to thicken, a deep, earthy scent had slowly begun to assert itself in her awareness. Like old, overturned earth, the heady aroma permeated the air. And yet, despite its strangeness, Jungle Babe couldn’t help but find it...alluring. She took some tentative breaths, then longer ones, trying to discern the underlying scent she just couldn’t place, but the mist filling her lungs was making her strangely lightheaded. She stopped, leaning gingerly against a towering, pale oak tree, and tried to catch her breath. She couldn’t understand why she was feeling so winded; just an hour ago she had been leaping through the trees and barely broke a sweat, and here she was merely walking, and it felt like she’d just run for miles.
She felt weirdly uncomfortable. Her body felt hot and overexerted, while at the same time the preternatural cool of the mist was making her break out in chilled goose bumps. She seemed to be getting increasingly aware of sensation against her skin; she felt acutely aware of every bead of sweat, every kiss of the night breeze. Even the friction of the sparse fabric of her bikini cut costume was getting mildly distracting.
And the damned mist was getting thicker by the minute. It was still more pronounced around her legs, nearly to her knees now, but everywhere she looked a gauzy haze had come over the forest, making navigation difficult and her eyes burn from lack of focus. She screwed her eyes shut tight and massaged them with her free hand, suddenly aware of how tired they felt too. Weird. If she didn’t know better, she would almost think she was being...
Her eyes shot open, cold realization sinking in.
“Drugged,” she grimaced, looking at her faintly trembling hand with angry certainty. “This is no ordinary mist.
It’s some kind of...poison.”
But the flash of understanding did nothing to help her situation. Her heart hammered as the depth of her predicament began to dawn on her. She looked back at the way she’d come, her path now totally swallowed by the fog. A sinking feeling threatened to take hold and shift into full panic. She couldn’t retreat; she was too deep in it now. The only option was to forge ahead.
“Steady yourself. Control your breathing. You’re nearly to the hills; you’ll find some elevation, clear your lungs. Just stay steady. Don’t panic.”
It was easier said than done, but Dana didn’t have much choice. She set off, moving as quickly as she dared, grateful that the surge of adrenaline seemed to be fighting off the weariness that had been settling in her aching limbs. She only needed to keep it up for a little while longer, and she’d have a chance at figuring out a plan.
As she walked deeper into the hazy forest, she began to notice that the trees were become more noticeably misshapen. Their shadowy forms gnarled and twisted in strange ways, and the most badly changed ones seemed to be covered in thick, dangling vines, like overgrown ivy without any leaves. She eyed them warily, but the long strands of serpentine fiber merely hung limply from the trees, swaying blindly in what little breeze there was to disturb them. Once, when no alternative path was available, Dana was forced to edge her way past a crawling mass of them, and saw for the first time that the same pale sap that bled from the trees positively oozed from these strange vines; every inch of them was covered in the thickly flowing substance, from a source she could not identify, messily dripping to form cloudy puddles beneath them.
As she edged past the hanging vines, she saw that the trees opened into a small clearing. A great, coiled mass of the strange vines created a thick web in the tree canopy above, so dense that they blocked out the pale moonlight and cast the clearing into deep umbra.
“Just a little farther,” she thought, trying to reassure herself, “You’re n-nearly to the base of the hills...”
Jungle Babe couldn’t see it, but a glazed, faraway look had started to come over her eyes. The growing pull of sleepiness was making it hard to focus, hard to concentrate. Her eyes, when open, where heavy and hooded; and every blink seemed to take more and more effort to fight through. With the rising drowsiness also came a strange, heady heat. A hot blush had risen on her cheeks, and her whole body was getting warmer by the minute. The sensation of her breasts shifting against her leopard print top had brought her nipples to rigid attention. Now, every movement seemed to cause her costume to rub across them, setting off tiny sparks of sensation that were so...distracting...
“Need...fresh air...feeling...woozy...” she moaned, swaying noticeably now with every step. She managed to make it to the center of the clearing, when suddenly something grabbed at her ankle beneath the milky surface of the mist.
Jungle Babe let out a startled cry as she stumbled forward, barely managing to catch her balance before she toppled totally to the ground.
“What the hell was that?!” she swore under her breath, spinning, vainly trying to catch sight of whatever had tripped her, but the mist swirled inscrutably around her legs. She stood stock still in the hazy forest, listening, turning every one of her senses as high as they would go, but the forest was eerily still. She could barely see anything beneath her knees, and the only sounds were the rustling trees, the halting pant of her breathing, and the pounding of her pulse in her ears.
She cursed her jumpy nerves. It was just a damned root, Dana, or a bush. You’re in the damn woods. Get a hold of yourself. Yet something inside her was clamoring in alarm. Even muddled, her instincts were telling her something was terribly wrong here.
Something brushed wetly against her bare calf, and she spun, kicking it away, but the jarring movement sent her foggy head reeling. She lurched, nearly tripping, and only just managed to right herself before she totally lost her balance.
“Oh god, my reflexes,” she grimaced, fighting back the gauzy dizziness threatening to overtake her, “This mist...it’s affecting me...worse than I thought...!”
The surface of the mist was roiling with activity now; something—no, a lot of something’s—were moving beneath its surface, all around her. Jungle Babe struggled to keep track of all of it, but her movements felt slow, sluggish.
When the next strike came, a slurping, lingering brush against the inside of her knee, it took a moment for her body to react to her mind’s racing orders to repel it.
Before her leaden hand could strike back, her assailant was gone, leaving her to swing at empty air. She cursed, breathing hard from the effort, swaying dangerously on her feet. She barely registered the smoky tendrils of mist that were curling around her legs and slowly wrapping around her arms, as if hungrily trying to pull her into its swirling embrace.
Another spongy caress, this time against her thigh, was again met with a tellingly delayed reprisal from the panting heroine. Every harried breath drew more of the insidious miasma into her lungs, and soon it felt as though the whole forest was gently swaying around her. “D-dizzy...everything...spinning...” she groaned, a trembling hand at her temple, trying desperately to stop the drunken tilt of her vision. Then, something rose up out of the mist in front of her, and her heavy, half-lidded eyes shot open in wide horror.
At first she thought it was some kind of snake with the way it reared up, like a cobra poised to strike, but it was no snake. It wasn’t even an animal. It was one of the vines, thick, wetly glistening, it’s ‘head’ poised towards her in a gesture of plain menace. She instinctively stepped back, but the tendril did not move to follow. It tracked her movement, almost as if it were watching her, but remained where it was. It undulated in the air, waving side to side in a slow, serpentine rhythm.
Jungle Babe stared at it in shock, horror and disbelief churning inside her. Oh god, what the hell was that thing?
Was it a plant? Some kind of mutant? What the hell did it want...?
She watched it in stunned silence, slowly backing away. “Don’t take your eyes off it for a second!” she cautioned herself, “Your reactions aren’t as fast as they ought to be; if it means to cause trouble, you have to be ready!”
She needed to make it out of the clearing, get some distance...
But as she watched, the tendril merely continued its slow, deliberate movements. Back and forth, swaying side to side. So easy to watch. Almost...relaxing...
Dana continued to stare at it. The serpentine rhythm was drawing her gaze; she followed it with her eyes as it swayed, slowly rocking from side to side. Steady, slow...so...fascinating...
She hadn’t realized it, but she had stopped trying to back out of the clearing. Her rapid, panicked breathing had started to slow, growing deeper. Her eyes followed the coiling dance of the tendril as it wavered in the air. Back and forth. Back...and forth...
Suddenly, Dana realized that she had slowly started swaying too. She blinked her heavy eyes, trying to shake away the strange, languid lethargy she felt herself sinking into, but her head was so foggy. It was getting hard to think...to focus on anything other than the sinuous, swaying tendril in front of her. Her eyes kept getting pulled back to follow its movement, until they began to grow distant...glassy...
Back and forth.
No. No! Something’s wrong, you have to move, you have to run!
“Need to...run...” the increasingly entranced Jungle Babe helplessly muttered, “N-need...to...to...”
The swaying tendril continued its mesmerizing dance, and try and she might, Dana found herself unable to pull her eyes away. The voice inside her head, the one urging her to flee, was growing softer, more distant. Just keep watching, another voice was whispering to her now. It’s so easy to just stare. To watch it dance. It’s so soothing. So relaxing. Don’t look away. You can’t look away...
As Jungle Babe stared in hopeless fascination, the thick, green mist continued its subtle seduction of her body.
Every breath drew more of the sex poison into her lungs. The distracting tingle in her breasts had developed into an insistent ache, and beneath her small triangle of a loincloth, her pussy lips were flushed and swollen, her clit stiffening in blind anticipation. Languid, liquid heat spread through her whole body. Her arousal rose like an unbidden tide as the miasma filled her with evil, unwanted desire, undermining her resolve, weakening her will. Her body was being primed for sex, even as she fell deeper and deeper under the monstrous tentacle’s hypnotic spell.
“Such a good girl,” whispered the strange, compelling voice, “You’re getting weaker, aren’t you? So tired. So relaxed. Watch, my pet, do not look away. Back and forth. Weaker and weaker. Yessss...”
Jungle Babe let out a soft moan as the strength to keep her arms up drained out of her. They fell uselessly to her sides while she slowly swayed in time to the tendril’s serpentine dance. Her heavy eyes struggled to stay open, as she tried vainly to fight off the warm, alluring drowsiness beckoning her to surrender. Her full, red lips were parted in a slack moan. “Getting...so...t-tired...so hot...what’s...what’s happening...I...”
With the blonde beauty nearly totally under the tendril’s control, she did not see as dozens more tentacles slowly reared up out of the misty morass all around her. Dripping cloudy white slime, their bulbous heads trained on her near-naked form, and all at once the tentacles began slithering towards her. All the while, the first tendril held her transfixed as its mad, mesmerizing undulations coaxed her heavy eyes to sink lower, lower.
‘Yesss...’ the soft voice hissed in her mind, ‘That’s it, my sweet. Close your eyes, ressst. Ssleep will bring pleasure. You can’t resist. You don’t want to resist. Sleep. Sssleeeep...”
Jungle Babe staggered, gasping, as the cunning, sensual whisper filled her mind. Drugged by the mist, entranced by the dance, she could not muster the will to oppose its insidious command. With a final, desperate groan, Jungle Babe’s eyes finally fluttered shut. The last of her strength bled out of her, and like a wilting flower her limp body fell backwards—right into the waiting nest of glistening, writhing tendrils.
With inhuman strength, the mass of tentacles cradled her in their crawling embrace, laying her back until she was prone atop a living, coiling bed. The tendrils roiled against her, caressing every inch of her back, her legs, tasting her soft, naked flesh with inhuman hunger. Her arms and legs were quickly wrapped in coils of the hellish vines, and pulled taut until her arms were held above her head, and her long legs were spread, wide and vulnerable. The busty blonde swooned in their grip, her eyes fluttering as the sensation of the tentacles against her sensitized skin sent jolts of vile pleasure dancing up her spine.
The thick, primary tentacle swiveled into place before her. It’s rounded end shuddered, then split open like the bloom of some demonic flower, revealing a yellow, lidless eye in the center of its glistening red petals. The voice in her head tittered in victorious glee.
“Such a delectable morsel,” it hissed, lustily drinking in the sight of her prone, helpless body. “Vibrant. Strong. You will make a perfect bride for the master. But first, you must be properly...prepared...”
A slender tentacle rose up from the mass coiling beneath Jungle Babe, landing on her abdomen with a wet smack. It slithered up her body, leaving a thick trail of slime in its wake. It licked up the smooth skin of her taut abdomen until it reached the animal skin bra restraining her heavy, aching breasts. It hooked itself around the slim bridge of fabric between her tits, while behind her back, a pair of tendrils worked with devilish dexterity to untie the knots holding it together. In seconds it was undone, and her top was lifted away to allow the great mounds of her breasts to spill into open view.
Perhaps reacting to the sensation of being stripped, Jungle Babe’s head tossed in subconscious denial. Her brow furrowed, even as she struggled to open her heavy, tired eyes. “N-no...stop...l-let...let me go...”
“I didn’t think my little dance would keep you down for long,” the voice chuckled, “But don’t worry. I have other ways to keep you docile...”
Two more tentacles slithered into action. Jungle Babe gasped in reluctant pleasure as each one wrapped itself around her quivering breasts, trapping the soft flesh in tight, slimy coils. The tentacles undulated against her, flexing in a sinuous pulse that massaged and caressed her tits from base to tip. The sensation was like having her entire breast sucked into a hot, wet mouth, simultaneously vile, alien...but unbelievably erotic. Jungle Babe shuddered, pulling uselessly against the tendrils restraining her arms and legs, but all too soon her struggles began to fade, and the knowing manipulation of her sensitive tits dragged a long, heady moan from the helpless heroine. Her breasts hummed in pleasure beneath the writhing touch, her nipples swollen to almost painful fullness. The ends of the tendrils assaulting her breasts split open, extending dozens of tiny, grasping cilia to pull her rigid nipples into wet, lamprey-like mouths. She gave a strangled groan, her back arching, as dozens of tiny filaments pulled and brushed against her turgid flesh, igniting her tits in hot, liquid ecstasy.
“AAh! D-don’t...no...oh...oh god...” Jungle Babe was panting. It was wrong, she shouldn’t be enjoying this, but it felt...it felt so good...
Between her legs, the lascivious attention was having devastating effect. The pleasure from her breasts stoked the fires of her arousal, and the hot, sticky juices of her rapidly heating pussy began to soak out around the narrow strip of fabric running between her swollen nether lips. Her hips twitched uncontrollably. The unblinking eye-stalk watched her torment with unbridled glee.
“Yesss,” came the malevolent hiss in her mind, “Such wonderful breasts. So soft. So sensitive. But you have other treasures, my dear...other needs to fulfill...”
Again, clever tendrils went to work on the leather ties of her loincloth, and soon it too was pulled away, leaving Jungle Babe clothed in nothing more than the slim, soaked thong covering her weeping sex. A thick, smooth tendril began to lightly brush against her covered mons, stroking back and forth over the hard nub of her clit where it lay nestled between her dripping labia. The teasing motion soon had her little clit throbbing.
Jungle Babe moaned. She tossed her head in abject denial, but could not stop her hips from rising and rocking into the subtle pressure against her sex. It was so hard to think. She was getting so hot, so turned on. It was easier just to lie back, to let the tentacles have their wicked way. She couldn’t stop them, and as the demonic appendages continued to stroke and coax her trembling body, she was less and less sure she even wanted to...
The tendril between her legs was stroking the full length of her pussy now, licking against her like a thick, monstrous tongue. Cloudy white ooze soaked through the slim fabric of her thong, drenching her pussy, making her ache with need. She whimpered. She was so wet. God, it was making her...it felt so good...
“That’s it, my sweet,” the voice chortled as Jungle Babe let out a low, helpless moan. “Your pussy opens to my touch. So hot. So wet. So...empty...”
She felt two tendrils loop under the thin waistband of her thong at her hips. They pulled up, grinding the central strap hard against her throbbing clit. She gasped.
“This little thing...” the voice sing-songed, sawing the soaked fabric between her lips, “It is in my way. It keeps me away from your sweet sex. Shall I remove it?”
Jungle Babe was panting. Her clit was absolutely throbbing. The whispering voice was right. She was so wet. She was so hot. Her pussy was empty...aching...
“...y-yes...” she breathed, lost in a dreamy, erotic haze, “Yes...oh yes...”
“Then raise your hips for me, darling. Raise them up...”
The tentacles around her legs uncoiled, setting them free, but no thought of resistance, of escape, entered Jungle Babe’s mind. Instead, the buxom blonde gave a needy sigh, and obediently raised her luscious ass up off the coiling tentacles beneath her. Soft, derisive chuckling filled her mind.
“Such an obedient little slut. The master will be pleased. And this...”
The twin tendrils pulled her panties down her thighs, strands of hot, sticky wetness trailing behind as it pulled away from her sex, leaving her completely naked...vulnerable...
“...you won’t be needing this anymore. Now...you belong to me...”
The thick tentacle returned to her dripping sex, and Jungle Babe let out a hoarse gasp as it began fondling her again, more insistently than before. The feeling of its slick, smooth length sliding against her exposed clitoris was almost too much to take. Sparks of pleasure made her sigh, and when she felt the bulbous head press against the opening of her cunt, she let out a long, desperate moan.
Thick appendages slid into her grasping hands, and her fingers closed tightly around them reflexively. They pumped wetly in her grip, while the coils restraining her arms loosened and slid away. Her hands began sliding up and down their pulsing lengths, while hot, vivid fantasies began to fill her drugged mind. The tendrils massaging her tits pressed them tightly together, creating a wet, soft tunnel for another pseudo-cock to glide into. It fucked her tits slowly, its wide, knobby end glistened enticingly just inches away from her red, panting lips. She felt tentacles coil around her knee, felt them pulled up and back, spreading her wide.
The thick tendril brushed against her again, found the trembling opening of her sex, and plunged in.
Jungle Babe cried out, arching her back, as the fat head bullied past her swollen labia, opening her up. Her grasping pussy resisted its entry for barely a moment before helplessly yielding, and the marauding tentacle sank into her hot, wet depths.
“OOHH...oh...YEESSS!” she moaned, falling completely under the evil, writhing tentacle’s spell, “S-so deep...so...gooood....OOOOHHH!”
The tentacle fucked her mercilessly, sliding in and out of her gushing cunt in long, toe-curling strokes. It filled her, owned her, made her quiver around its throbbing girth as it drowned her mind in waves of irresistible, penetrated pleasure.
“That’s it slut,” the voice hissed in her mind, “Think only of your need. Think only of your desire. My cocks fill your body with pleasure...and I will fuck you, again and again, until you are completely addicted. Until your every waking thought is consumed by the need for sex. Now come for me, slut. COME.”
The tentacle in her pussy began fucking faster and faster. Jungle Babe cried out, her hips thrusting up into the dominating thrusts with uncontrollable, hungry eagerness.
“YEEESSS! Make me cum...I need to cum....oooooh....GOOODDD!!”
She was too turned on to resist; too hot to fight back. The tentacle drove in once more, and at once, the blonde
heroine exploded obediently in mind-numbing orgasm. She seized atop the roiling bed of tendrils, her body shuddering in conquering bliss. Every inch of her sang with sex. The cocks in her hands, the one between her breasts, and the cruel, wicked organ filling her pussy, burned in her mind her true, slutty purpose. She was made for pleasure. She was made for sex. Nothing else mattered.
She felt the head of the tentacle press insistently against her lips, and she moaned, willingly opening her mouth to let it slip inside. It entered her, gushing more thick, white slime, and at once her mouth was filled with the
salty, masculine taste of semen. She moaned, sucking hungrily, wantonly swallowing the demonic seed spilling onto her tongue. The first orgasm was barely past when she felt the awful movement of the tentacle in her pussy again, fucking her, driving her back to the edge of ecstasy. She could feel it quivering inside her, and realized that this time it would come too.
“Let us come together, my sweet,” the voice rasped, “And as you do, I shall fill you with my master’s seed...and make you his slave...”
She groaned around the tentacle in her mouth, sucking harder. She could feel the orgasm rushing towards her. Just a little more. She wanted it. She needed it. The cock in her pussy drove in faster and faster, her trecherous hips rising to meet its every thrust...oh god, she was going to come, she was—!
“aaaaAAAAAARAGGHH!”
The sudden, agonized screech pierced her mind, and the tentacles holding her suddenly spasmed in pain. They released her, dropping her to the forest floor, and roiled in the air in wild fury.
The impact shocked her, breaking the tentacle’s erotic grip on her mind. Jungle Babe winced, blinking heavily, struggling to focus her eyes on what was happening.
She saw a mass of shapes, more shadows than anything distinct, milling into the clearing. She couldn’t make out their faces. She heard them shouting to one another, heard a sudden burning roar, and once again the voice in her mind let out a shriek.
“YOU DARE?! YOU WORTHLESS HUMANS, HOW DAAAAAAAAAAAAGGH!”
The scream was accompanied by another burning howl, and a rush of heat over her head. She struggled to push herself up, but her arms had no strength.
“H-help...I need...help,” she choked, as horrific blackness pulled at the edges of her vision. She was going to pass out.
Suddenly, she felt something drape over her naked form, and felt herself being lifted up between two large, dark shapes.
“Get the girl!” she heard someone shout, “Get her and run! Burn it again, John, it’s still alive!”
The roar of a flamethrower cut through the night, turning the hazy forest a brilliant orange-red. She felt herself tossed over someone’s shoulder, felt them running. She forced open her eyes, saw the horrific maelstrom of men as they fought to burn away the unspeakable horror in their midst, before merciful, soothing darkness finally welcomed her in its embrace.
—
Sandra charged through the temple, her heart racing. The scream—she’d never heard such agony before. She knew where it had come from, and her body leapt through the tunnels with practiced familiarity. If there was an intruder, if someone had dared to enter their sanctuary...she would flay the flesh from their bones.
She found the open portal to her destination, and dove in. She landed in a crouch, claws extended, fangs barred...but there was no interloper.
Atop the chamber’s central, raised dais, something shuddered to life.
Sandra swallowed, and took a careful step back. “Sister...Carmen...are you alright?”
The chamber was filled with a dry, threatening rattle as the creature that had been Carmen pulled herself up. More than Angie’s, more than her own, Carmen’s had been the most horrific transformation. The woman’s pale, naked body was human only from the waist up. Glossy, smooth scales adorned her arms and back, covering her in a pattern that was both beautiful and terrible to see. Her lower body was a long, serpentine tail, coiled many times around to disguise its length. The rattle at its end shuddered to convey her pain.
She shook her head fiercely, trying to banish the lingering pangs of agony. Atop her head, a nest of dark, writhing snakes hissed angrily where there should have been hair. When at last her glittering yellow eyes opened, she fixed them on her leonin sibling, her noble features twisted in a hiss.
“Tell the massster,” she rasped, “The humansss mean to ssstrike...”