La

La dropped to the ground before him and licked it, from it base to its tip. A growl rumbled in the Jungle Lord's chest. La turned and fell to her hands and knees, her shapely ass to him. She reached back and grabbed the cheeks of her ass and spread them. Her hairless cunt was purple with lust. It opened to him like a flower. Moisture gleamed at her center. She lay her face on the cold ground and willed him to take her, to flood her with his seed, the seed of a forest god, worthy enough to spawn a king.

She felt his hand glide over the smooth skin of her ass, them around between her legs. She felt it slide over her wet cunt, cupping her. His other hand slid under her to grip her heaving breasts. Then he lifted her and tossed her into the muddy creek.

She shrieked. She roared. She spit. She wiped the vile, green mud from her eyes. But he was gone. She darted around the clearing, seeking his trail, but only a leaf falling from a great branch gave any hint of his passing.

Her frustration turned to anger, then annoyance, then acceptance. She stood, naked and shaven, until her breathing slowed to normal and her thoughts became her own again. She looked at the Huntresses, their bare asses hanging at the level of her chest. She took up the blade that the Jungle Lord had tossed at her and walked to a nearby bush. She cut a long, stout branch from it and stripped it of its leaves. She swiped it through the air, back and forth. It whistled like the wind through the trees.

She would have her vengeance on the Jungle Lord. And she would have his seed, someday. But first, there were lessons to be taught. La, the Virgin Queen of Opar, could not abide failure.

The Jungle Lord, high in the canopy, paused at the sound of the screaming, then sailed on through the trees, for it was growing dark, and his Lady Jane awaited.