Jungle Babe by Soul in Shadow Chapter 2

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'rebleeding.

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..."

Jungle Babe by Soul In Shadow. Chapter 1

Jungle Babe - In the Clutches of Cernunnos

Chapter 1: Queen of the Wilds

** For Lexi. **

The private jet touched down at a small airstrip just on the outskirts of Delta City. The sky overhead was perfectly clear, the sun reflecting brilliantly off of the plane's sleek metal form. After briefly taxiing to the central hangar, it ground to a halt, and a moment later, the forward portal slid aside to allow a folding stairway to descend to ground.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Brenda," she whispered, "Where the hell did you go?"

---------------------

"Talk to me, Tessa."

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

She was still wearing her traveling coat.

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

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

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

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

"Kidnapping?" Dana interrupted her, "You had a perp?"

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

The larger shape though...that was anything but.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I'm sorry, Tessa," she murmured, "I'm afraid this isn't going to keep till morning."

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

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

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

"Don't be dead, you stupid broad," she muttered. "I'm coming for you."

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

----------------------

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dana frowned. "'These nights'? What do you mean, Old One?"

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

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

They looked hungry.

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

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

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

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

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

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

She meant to do just that.

--------------------------

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She didn't have to wait long.

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

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

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

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

"No, please no!" she begged, "Don't make me want it...don't make me like it...please...nnoooh..."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Your cock," she breathed, "I-I need to...fuck...your cock! Please...!"

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

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

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

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

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

She felt powerful. Feral. Alive.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Angie just shrugged, smiling inscrutably. "You hope."

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

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

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

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

I know we've been a little absent lately. Both Tania and I are taking a much needed break. RL can kill those creative juices so fast. But hopefully we'll be back to it soon.

Now onto the GREAT NEWS. An extremely talented artist named Soul in Shadow, (Read his works on Mr X's page), has decided to use Sable Myst as part of one of his stories. I know this isn't the Sable Myst Universe, but she does exist in the Ultra Woman Universe (See our past stories).

Anyway, SiS's stories are phenomenal and I'm so flattered that he wants to use Sable in them. With his permission I'm going to be posting all of his Jungle Babe story here and any other story he decides to use Sable in. He's an amazing talent and one of the few authors that I'm ALWAYS chomping at the bit for the next chapter. The absolute best writer and an even better person!! I'm still geeking out that someone else wants to use Sable.

SQUEEEEEE!!!!

Stay tuned!!!