Stumbling through the thick bushes, Robert struggled to remain calm. Though he had been traversing these forests for close to two decades, anyone with an ounce of experience knew not everybody who entered made it out again, no matter how well they knew their way. To his dismay, it looked as though today was the day his name joined the long list of men and women who had gone missing in the rainforest, never to be found again.
No, don’t think like that, he told himself sharply, you can get out of this. Use your head, Robert. Stop panicking and think.
But the deeper he went, the less he was able to focus. Thoughts of the creatures that would come out at night began to haunt him and his nerves started to fray as the sounds of the forest pressed in from all sides. There was such a din of rustles and creaks and animal cries that there might have been a predator stalking him in the bushes only feet away and he would not have known until he was in the grip of its claws.
Though he tried to ignore his fear, he was right to be afraid, and the proof was not long in arriving. The blow came from behind, sharp and unexpected, and he dropped in a heap never knowing what had struck him.
In the bushes nearby, a small bird watched with beady eyes as the three figures leaned over Robert’s unconscious body. The held their clubs idly, prodding him with the hilts, while across their backs were strung glinting spears. After a brief, excited conversation, they heaved his limp body between them and vanished into the underbrush.
For Robert, the journey was a blur. He had the vague sensation of being carried, but his vision was far too hazy to identify who was doing the carrying. Only able to make out smudges of green and brown as the trees slid by, he dropped in and out of consciousness, his head throbbing and eyes aching.
By the time he came to his senses once more, he was no longer in the forest. Grassy plains stretched out around him, with a collection of low dirt huts a little distance away. It appeared that his assailants had bought him to their tribal village, for dozens of inquisitive tribesmen and tribeswomen were amassed around him in tight circles, some sixty or so in all. Sitting up, his aching body protested, but a brief analysis of the tribespeople assured him he had bigger issues.
He had heard of this tribe; everybody in the region had. Rumour had it they were cannibals, for there dozens of unfortunate explorers had reportedly vanished over the years, their bodies never found and last seen being dragged away by native men with spears and clubs. They were just about as isolated as any tribe could be and were feared by the locals more than any prowling rainforest hunter.
Suddenly one of the men came up to him. In front of Robert he placed a shallow wooden bowl set on four little legs, into which a thick red mud had been heaped. It was sprinkled with dots of crimson which Robert assumed to be blood, and the man sharply crushed a handful of bones and dried leaves into it. Mixing them into the mud he lunged forward and dabbed a long streak of the stuff down Robert’s chest.
As a result, Robert noticed for the first time that he was practically naked. His shirt had been removed, his boots too, while his khaki trousers had been ripped until they were little more than glorified boxer shorts. The mud was cool and rough on his chest. Ignoring his confusion, the native man began chanting in a language Robert did not know. He knew he stood little chance of escape among so many of them, and he was even less likely to survive a hike in the rainforest dressed like this, but he had to try. Staying here meant being eaten, possibly alive, and he hoped his fear might provide adrenaline enough to make a quick getaway.
Trying to scramble away, he found he could not move. Despite having no restraints, he was seemingly fused to the spot.
To his horror, there was a new presence inside him. Swirling around in his head like a circling vulture it blotted out his thoughts as it settled over his mind. When it spoke it did so in the same language the man had been speaking, yet somehow he understood what it was saying.
Sweet, mortal host. You will do very nicely once they have moulded you. I am their goddess, and you are my puppet. I have not taken a host from beyond the tribe in many years. My people are so good to me. You are mine now, mortal. Time for you to be extinguished.
After that, Robert was gone. The goddess snuffed out his mind with ease and gently settled into his body. There would have to be some changes before she was satisfied, however. Fortunately her people knew how to cater for her needs.
One by one, each tribe member approached her, taking a handful of the grainy mud as they did so. Smearing it across her new body, they had soon covered her from head to toe, and it was only then that they began to mould her. Like potter’s working at a wheel they used the powerful sorcery in the mud to shape her a new body, twisting Robert’s masculine figure into something entirely new. They built up breasts on her chest, gouged at her skin to give her impressive curves; her arms were crafted to be powerful yet slender, while her legs and thighs were soon athletic and hairless.
With her people shaping her body she made a few changes under her own power, reforming Robert’s features to radiate feminine beauty, cascading long hair down his back to be braided later. She even rearranged his genitals with an easy shudder. An hour after Robert had awoken among the tribespeople, she was complete.
Rising to her feet she thanked each man, woman and child in turn before allowing them to lead her into one of the huts and clothe her in the proper manner of a goddess incarnate. She would rule over them for the next five years, as she always did when she inhabited a host, then she would leave her mortal body as a docile, obedient servant to the tribe while she waited for her people to offer her a new host. Once she had left her host, she knew the men would fill her with child, but right now she was the most revered member of their small community and would remain so for years to come. In that time, she would carry children of her own, impregnated only by the men she deemed worthy of her body.
And the decision of which men met her standards was always the thing she enjoyed the most…
Thanks for reading!
So this is a little different to the kind of story I usually write, and to be honest it isn’t something I would usually publish on this blog due to the images it uses. I’ve said before that I set myself strict rules on what models I use in my work and that I always try to ensure I’m only using models in the porn industry to depict sexual situations.
The model here is not a porn actress, however. She is Pamela Bellwood, a Playboy bunny and mainstream actress – at least that’s who the gallery I used identifies her as. Ordinarily I wouldn’t use Playboy bunnies in my work, however this piece is much less sexual than my usual fare – indeed it only briefly references sex at the very end, and there is no actual sex scene within this piece itself. Instead, the piece is far more focused on the transformation and abduction themes, which is why I felt more confident using this gallery.
I should note, this doesn’t mean I’ll be using Playboy models regularly. I found this gallery and it sparked this idea which I really liked, but I still prefer using porn models.
Anyway, this is the last normal story of the year as the rest of my releases for the month will be themed around Christmas and New Year. Hope you’re looking forward to them, because I’ve got some really fun pieces on the way.
I would love to hear your thoughts on my work, so please leave me a comment!
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PornPics gallery: https://www.pornpics.com/galleries/sexy-model-pamela-bellwood-showing-her-boobs-in-front-of-the-entire-tribe/