Jungle LordbyThe Mutt©
A line of men snaked through the trees,
Safari - nine days out,
One shapely form lagged far behind,
None of the men about.
Her bright, red hair flashed like a flag,
Against the jungle's green,
Her bright, blue eyes would flash and start,
At dangers still unseen.
Her sweat-soaked blouse clung to her form,
And sheathed her breasts like paint;
She'd shed her bra at Madripoor,
Along with all restraint.
The jungle crept into her soul,
And made her breath come hot,
The scent between her legs was sweet,
Against the jungle's rot.
As if each step the Lady took,
Was one into the past,
Civilization's shaky hold,
Was torn from her at last.
So when the jungle beast attacked,
Her scream came not from fear,
But from that primal, inner place,
That we hold all too near.
The leopard's claws tore clothes and skin,
She scrambled toward a tree,
Her sodden blouse was torn away,
With her humanity.
Her eyes were filled with beastial rage,
She turned to face her death,
And though she had no hope of life,
She'd fight 'til her last breath.
But from above, there came a sound,
That chilled her to her core,
Human, yet more animal than
Leopard's fiercest roar.
Then like a bolt from Zeus's hand,
A flash of skin and knife,
The leopard fell and from its throat,
Poured out its blood and life.
And o'er the leopard's dying form,
There stood a giant man,
With his triumphant head thrown back,
A dagger in his hand.
And from his throat there came a cry,
Like she had never heard,
The bloodied god then smiled at her,
And turned without a word.
But as her savior walked away,
She threw herself at him,
And wrapped her arms around his chest,
And held him skin to skin.
Her tiny hands explored his chest,
Her hot mouth kissed his back,
Her sweat and tears mixed with the blood,
He'd spilled in his attack.
Her roving hands dropped to his waist,
Then lower to his loin,
Then underneath the tattered rag,
That covered up his groin.
She gasped when her hand found his cock,
As hard as it was long,
From deep within her woman's throat,
She moaned her woman's song.
He turned to her and pushed her to
Her knees, there in the dust,
She tore away the cloth that hid,
The object of her lust.
Then like a low-born wanton, she
Explored it with her lips,
And with her tongue, she tasted it,
Its base up to its tip.
And though she was a Lady born,
And not some common whore,
She took his cock into her mouth,
'Til she could take no more.
He ground his crotch into her face,
His balls slapped at her chin,
He clutched her hair in his great fist,
And forced his hard cock in.
Her eyes began to water and
Her head began to swim,
Her cunt was wet with woman's juice,
Its scent called out to him.
With one strong hand, he tossed her like
A doll onto the grass,
He pushed her to her hands and knees,
And parted her soft ass.
He plunged his cock into her cunt,
And buried its full length,
To keep from screaming like a cat,
Took all the Lady's strength.
He pounded and he pounded 'til
She felt his cock-head swell,
And then she felt his jism gush,
Like water from a well.
She ground her hips into his crotch,
Her fingers raked the dirt,
From deep within her woman's soul,
She came so hard it hurt.
She fell into a tangled heap;
A puppet with no strings,
Her mind awash with pagan thoughts,
That only passion brings.
Then from afar she heard the sound
Of voices, and her name,
She turned to face the Jungle Lord,
Into his arms she came.
And as the rescue party neared,
She begged him with her eyes,
To take her far from men with guns,
And all their civil lies.
He swept her up into his arms,
And grinned a feral grin,
And though the search went on for days,
She was never seen again.