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Chapter 30: Be My Princess

Kilyan and the others fell out of line and drew into a tight group once they entered the jungle. They became very silent, keeping even their breathing low. There were dangerous entities in these trees beside the shemales, and Kilyan was keen that they should avoid those dangers on their way to the village.

It had been several years since Kilyan's last visit to Avi's home (he had not been to the jungles since Avi was sixteen), and so it was Wynn who led the way through the heavy vines, pressing flowers, and oppressive trees. Through moss and mud they moved, keeping wary and alert, bodies tense, eyes ever shifting. Wynn moved at the front of the group with a nimble agility only one native to the jungle could possess. And with the strength of the shemale, it was she who lifted the fallen logs from their path with ease, she who pushed aside fallen statues and boulders, she who snapped the spine of a lunging constrictor with the ease of snapping a twig.

It was day when they reached the edge of the village and crouched in the bush. Wynn wanted to fly right up to the village and almost did so, but Kilyan grabbed her arm, hissing to the group that something was very wrong here: there were guards at the village gates. Wynn noticed it too, and with her ears pricking forward anxiously, she settled down in the bush with the others.

Shemales shouldn't have had guards at their gates for this particular reason: shemales did not have warriors. Their village was isolated within the jungle and, therefore, protected by it. There were very few rival villages who knew of its existence, and as a result, the shemales were never susceptible to frequent attacks. They therefore lived in peace, with no need for warriors or guards. But apparently . . . times had changed.

"We should wait til cover of nightfall," Kilyan whispered to the others, "and take a closer look, find out why shemales are guarding the gates --"

"Kilyan," said Keeno slowly, ". . . those aren't shemales." His eyes were fixed on the two figures in the distance.

Kilyan looked again and grew very still. Keeno was right: pacing back and forth at the village gates were what appeared to be two very small females. They weren't shemales at all, for no large shemale cocks slumped over their pussies. The two females were the size of children and bore spears on their shoulders. With prominent breasts and swinging tails, they paced back and forth before the gates almost restlessly. One was dark gray and riddled with silver markings. She possessed a long, flowing mane that fell in a loose braid down the center of her back. The other was light gray with a teeny waist and big thighs. Her mane was pulled atop her head in a tacky bun, from which stuck yellow bones and beads.

Both guards halted and went stiff when a third figure appeared.

The third figure moved with finesse toward the two guards, hips swinging and little breasts riding high. But for all her finesse, this new comer also walked with the hard march of a commander. Her tail swayed with her round hips as she approached at a quick pace. Kilyan could tell by her proudly lifted chin that she was someone important. She was smaller even than the two guards: she might have been three feet tall. But her body was that of a well-developed adult's (plump little breasts and round hips, a small waist and nicely shaped thighs) when she halted before the stiff guards and addressed them. Her fur was a very pale tan, and her mane hung in two braids around her ears, cut so short that the curly ends touched her cheeks either side. Her eyes were like dark gems in the looming shadow of the jungle, and they glittered with command as she eyed her subordinates. She carried what appeared to serve as both a scepter and a spear: it was a spear decorated very prettily with sparkling jewels and carvings, and she banged the butt-end of it haughtily in the dirt.

Watching with narrowed eyes from the bush, Wynn took a sharp breath when the new comer squeaked out, "Report!"

The guards answered just as shrill, "Yes, your highness!" their voices in unison, their eyes staring hard into the distance.

The light gray guard with the tacky bun announced, "Tulla spotted a group on the wastelands last night on border patrol, your highness. Moving steadily toward our jungles --"

"A group?" said the tan little commander sharply. "How large a group? Speak!"

"Not large, your highness," joined in the other guard. "Three males and one female. All of the simple kind. Nothing to fear."

The tan wolf scowled. "You'll fear it if I tell you to! Mother won't like that there were unidentified wolves prowling around near our jungle and you failed to tell me at once --"

"Your - your highness, I --" stammered the light gray guard.

The other guard looked as if she would join the feeble protest, but both guards shut their mouths when the teeny tan female snapped, "Silence!" They stood very stiffly, spears on their shoulders, gazing into the distance as their apparent superior paced up and down before them.

The tan wolf looked worried now. She bit her lip as she paced with the pretty spear on her shoulder, her tail swung in agitation, and every now and then, she curled her finger nervously around a loose strand of mane. "Mother won't like this," she muttered anxiously to herself, and her voice almost shook. "No, Mother won't like this at all . . ."

"But, your highness," attempted the guard with the long braid, "the wolves were of the simple kind. No strength in their kind, no speed. And there were so few. Agathia and I, we didn't think it was worth reporting --"

"Silence, I said! You stupid bitches!" The tan female whirled on the last word, and though her fangs flashed fiercely, she looked so cute in her wrath that Kilyan could tell the guards were holding back smiles. He couldn't blame them: their superior was a teeny thing, and she was very endearing.

"You may think this matter is nothing now," went on the tan female, and she started pacing again, "but when Mother finds out you kept information from her, you won't be laughing as she roasts you over the fire!"

That wiped the barely concealed smiles from the guards' faces. They glanced at each other in silent panic and something in their faces paled.

"What - what should we do, your highness?" asked the guard with the braid.

The tan female let her spear fall into the crook of her arm as she twisted her fingers anxiously. "The only thing we can do! Since you stupid bitches let strangers keep marching on our goddamned jungle, we'll have to form a party and go out there and capture them before they reach us. Mother mustn't know that you failed to report their appearance. My tail's as good as toast if she does." The tan female turned to the guards. "And if my tail is toast, just think what will happen to yours! Now get moving!"

The guards leapt, almost dropped their spears, and walked into each other as they scurried to obey. They hurried into the village with the tan wolf's voice hissing after them, "And don't let Mother know what you're up to!"

"Kilyan," Keeno whispered down in the bush, "what the hell is going on here? Who are those chicks? And where are the shemales?"

Before Kilyan could speculate in return, Wynn burst from the bushes. He snatched at his daughter but missed, and it was with horror that Kilyan saw Wynn go flying at the teeny tan wolf, and with a growl like the wildest male warrior, she lifted the little female clear off her feet by the throat, snatching the pretty spear and chucking it away.

Kilyan almost fell on his face scrambling after Wynn. He, Keeno, and Inden burst from the bushes, as Wynn, looking enraged enough to kill, dragged the female into the shadows and slammed her against the wall.

"Where is my mother!" Wynn growled, shaking the female by the throat against the wall. "What have you done with her!"

Rushing to Wynn's side, Kilyan was amazed when the little female rasped, "Ah. Wynn, princess of the shemales. You return at last."

Wynn's green eyes narrowed and her lip bunched up around her fangs. "Tell me," she warned, tightening her grasp.

"Wynn!" Inden cried in horror, for the little female gave a weak gasp and started to pale.

Noticing Inden's distress out of the corner of her eye, Wynn let the female go and she sagged to the ground, where she sat coughing and sputtering, her breasts trembling, small and sharp.

Wynn took up the pretty spear, and placing the sharp tip under the female's chin, she whispered, "Where is my mother, Elele!" in a voice that trembled with emotion.

Kilyan's ears pricked forward. "You know her? Wynn, what is going on, for god's sake --!"

"She's Elele," sneered Wynn, her gaze fixed in disdain on the little female, "princess of the pygmy tribe. They were always trying to take over the jungle!"

"But," said Keeno in confusion, "the shemales didn't have warriors because they didn't have enemies!"

Wynn shook her head. "The pygmies tried to take over in a different way. Finivive wanted the territory, the plentiful fruits of the earth that my tribe slaved to grow!" She glared down at Elele as she spoke. "They tried desperately to marry into our tribe, but for years, my grandmother turned them away. She refused to let a stinking, greedy pygmy marry my mother - and she was right to refuse such a thing!"

Wynn and Elele glared at each other.

"Roriana is dead," Elele said, gazing up at Wynn with a hatred to match, "died like a fool of a broken heart because some male didn't want her. Roriana was a hypocrite and an old cunt who was afraid of change. She spoke of never letting her kind mix with the 'pygmy freaks,' but the second a regular-sized freak enters her village, she spreads her legs --"

"Shut up!" burst Keeno, and Elele smiled at him wisely.

"Ah, so it was you," the pygmy princess said, turning her dark eyes on Keeno's twisted expression. "There was a prophecy that you would one day return. 'The pale one who lay with the shemale queen and in the process stole her heart.' " She eyed Keeno up and down with a soft sort of sympathy that humiliated and surprised him.

Keeno turned abruptly away, feeling tense and angry and confused. He had never wanted to believe it, that Roriana had died because of him. But now . . . he had to face the truth. He folded and unfolded his arms and swallowed hard as he avoided everyone's eye.

Stepping forward as if to shield Keeno from Elele's words, Kilyan also pointed his spear at the pygmy's throat and demanded of her, "Where is Avi? Where is the shemale queen!"

Elele turned her gentle, dark eyes upon Kilyan and gazed at him just as sympathetically. "And you. He spoke of you too. The dark lover, he called you. Returned to claim your own."

Kilyan frowned. "Who? Who called me - that?"

A distant stomping made Elele wince and look down. Her long lashes fanned to the ground as she said miserably, "Why don't you ask my mother."

Kilyan looked around and swallowed hard: standing in the village gates was a hugely fat female with a nasty smile. Her ears, her neck, her thick wrists sparkled with jewels. She was covered in pale, tan fur, and her long mane was plaited either side of her round face in two braids. Her pretty face was a fat duplicate of Elele's, except she possessed a dimple in her right cheek that stood out when she smiled lustily on the group. She was as short as the rest of her tribe, with great shivering breasts that appeared to be suffocating in a kind of sling made of cloth. Her great belly bulged over the hot scent of her pussy and its big lips, and her thighs rubbed together so hard when she waddled forward that it made her big butt jiggle and her tail, as a result, flap. She licked her lips as she eyed Kilyan up and down, and he got a sick feeling that she would be raping him tonight when she cupped her big titties and massaged them. She waddled from the village gates, and in her wake moved two dozen armed pygmies. She gestured to Kilyan and the others and ordered in a husky voice, "Apprehend." With dark smiles, the pygmies moved forward.

Keeno and Inden tensed and lifted their spears as the pygmies advanced, moving around their voluptuous queen with the slow stealth of hunters.

Panicking, Kilyan grabbed Elele up from the dirt by the arm, and forcing her around, he shouted, "One more move, and I break her neck!"

The size of a small child, Elele paled in Kilyan's grasp and didn't dare to move: his paw was on her throat, and one twist would break it. The pygmies and their queen halted, their eyes fixed darkly on Kilyan.

"Now first things first," Kilyan shouted. "Where is Avi and what have you done with her?"

Kilyan couldn't believe it when Elele suddenly started to cry. Without thinking, he loosened his grip and looked down at her in concern. She fell from his grasp, and it was in that moment that the pygmies advanced.

"Kilyan, you - why'd you let her go!" Keeno sputtered angrily.

Still sobbing, Elele crawled through the dirt and clung in pitiful desperation to Inden's leg. Inden looked down at her, awkward and uncertain.

"They're going to kill you if you don't run!" Elele cried. "That's what Mother does - she mates, then she kills!"

"Oh, shut up, Elele, you stupid pathetic . . ." muttered Wynn bitterly, but even as she insulted the pygmy princess, she helped her to stand.

Inden was alarmed and confused when Wynn shoved the teeny princess into his arms and ordered, "Run. And don't look back."

Still crying, Elele sniffed and blinked out tears, her eyes wide in horror. "Oh, god, Wynn, don't be a hero!"

"She's not," said Kilyan, "because we're all going to run - get going!"

Inden couldn't believe it when Kilyan slapped him and shoved him toward the trees. But the slap did the trick: he snapped out of his shock, threw Elele over his shoulder, and started running hard for the jungle. He could hear the others pelting after him, smelled Wynn's soft fur and heard Kilyan's heavy panting. Keeno brought up the rear, his spear forgotten in his stumbling efforts to escape. The pygmies were cutting swift after them now, screaming warrior cries and taunts as they leapt and crashed through the undergrowth.

"We're gonna . . . have to . . . split up . . ." Keeno panted.

"What?!" Kilyan cried. "No!"

"Dad, he's right," said Wynn, her breasts flying everywhere as she ran at her father's side.

They halted and crouched low in the bush as the pygmies searched in the distance, thrusting aside branches and bushes, stomping through the mud and flattening the flowers as they called mockingly for their prey to give in.

Wynn bowed her head to catch her breath as she said, "If we stay together, we'll all be caught. Whereas if we split up --"

"Only some of us will be caught," finished Kilyan, "but I'm not taking that chance --"

"Fuck! Kilyan, will you shut up!" burst Keeno angrily. He was bent over to catch his breath, his paws on his knees. "Who put you in charge? If you hadn't let the damned princess go --"

"Oh, shut up, Keeno, what was I gonna do? Stand there holding her neck forever? I never had any intention of really hurting her, and we were screwed whether I hurt her or not --"

"Inden, you fly," broke in Wynn impatiently, "Dad and Uncle Kee, you go that way. I'll go this way."

Wynn straightened up as if she would sprint off, but Kilyan grabbed her arm.

"Don't worry, Dad," she assured him. "I'm not alone."

She smiled into Kilyan's eyes, and when he got her meaning, he reluctantly let her go. "We'll meet at that hill where we made camp last," he said to the group.

They each flew their separate ways.

Wynn ran hard, tripping clumsily every now and then over roots, banging her toes on rocks but never pausing. She knew exactly where she was going: there was a cliff that overlooked the river. She had gone there once as a child, following the ever-lingering scent of her father. She would jump off that cliff and into the water if she had to and pray that she missed the rocks. That was Plan B. Plan A was to throw as many pygmies over the cliff as she could.

She had lied to her father: Wynn was very alone in her flight, for she hadn't heard from Sylas since the wastelands. Her heart was beating hard in her throat that she would be captured, that the pygmies would have their way with her. She hated the pygmies. Had hated them since childhood. They had no respect for anything. They were greedy and ravenous and did not know how to plan for the future, they did not know how to stop chewing once they started. And if they caught Wynn, they might never stop their games.

Wynn hurried on, her shapely body twisting and her breasts bouncing as she leapt over fallen logs, darted around trees, and forced her way in disgust through great spider webs. She fell, sliding in the mud and to one knee. Down in the bush, she could hear the pygmies drawing near, taunting that they could smell her.

There were two of them. One was female: Wynn could catch the scent of her wet pussy, could practically feel the heat of those swollen lips from where she squatted in hiding. God, the pygmies were already horny for her. She clenched her teeth, wanting to die before a damned pygmy touched her body.

"Princess Wynn, Princess Wynn!" called the shrill voice of a pygmy. This one, a male. "Come out, come out! There's no reason to hide: you ain't princess of nothin' now."

"Well . . . she can be princess of me," snickered the female.

Wynn clenched her fists, trying to smell of nothing but leaves and mud, but failing utterly. They moved closer and closer, their smells more apparent, their sniffing loud as they sought her out. Peering from the leaves, she could see them now: the female was none other than big-thighed Agathia, the pale gray guard with the tacky bun. The male was as small as his female companion, with a small set of genitals to match. He was dark gray and his black eyes were beady pellets in his swarthy face. His expression bore all the greed and selfish hunger that Wynn firmly believed embodied the pygmy: his eyes said he would gladly fuck Wynn until she stopped breathing. He was carrying a loop of rope over his shoulder, and in his paw was a little dagger. The female, meanwhile, carried the same spear as before.

Wynn's mind flew into a panic. She had no weapons except her super strength and the cliff was so far off! The two pygmies could easily overpower her, and she would be helpless to whatever little games they would play with their captive.

The pygmies drew nearer and she shrank back, careful to make not a sound. She moved down on all fours, her feet arched on the toes, her paws resting on the fingertips, her breasts motionless as she held her breath. But it was no good: they could smell her, they could outrun her (pygmies were hopelessly fast, damn them), and they would overpower her. Her only hope was to get up the tree behind her and signal for Inden to swoop to her rescue.

Wynn kept backing slowly away, her tail curled under her butt and between her legs to cloak the scent of her pussy. Her ears were flat as she regarded the pygmies with a mixture of fear and loathing she had possessed from childhood. For though the pygmies were weak in body, they were unnaturally fast, and possessed an accuracy that was alarming. Many a shemale had been captured in the past because she was too slow, because a pygmy looped a rope about her feet as she ran away. Such horror stories Avi had often told Wynn in her constant attempts to keep Wynn from running off to look for Kilyan. For the shemale saying went like this: many things can kill you in the jungle, but only with a pygmy is death certain. And though Wynn had learned to fear the pygmy and fear it well, she had never once stopped walking through her own goddamned jungle. And she wasn't going to stop now. Whatever was going on, she would get to the bottom of it or die trying.

"Hey, pretty princess, why don't you come out?" called the male in mock-sadness. "I promise it'll feel good when I fuck you. It'll feel so good, you'll get so juicy and wet that Agathia will have to lick, lick, lick it off. Won't that be nice?"

"Come out, I'm tired of games," Agathia growled. "I'm getting thirsty!"

Wynn gasped. As Agathia shouted the last word, the bushes were viciously kicked aside, and Wynn was revealed in her backward-crouching walk. The pygmies, knowing where she was all along, had been closing in on her either side! Wynn scowled as they grinned down on her: they were too damned quick. She made a sudden move, but the male slung his rope around her neck with lightning reflexes, and in seconds, Wynn was on her knees gagging as she sought to pry the rope from her throat.

The pygmies laughed sinisterly as they closed in on Wynn's gasping body. Sensing her helplessness, Wynn scowled and swung her arms around in sudden desperation. Her titties flapped as she swung, and this only seemed to delight her laughing captors, who watched her shapely body twist as if spellbound by her beauty. She tried to pull her legs around to kick but fell over when the male gave the rope a fierce tug. Wynn's eyes popped and spit gushed over her mouth as the air was momentarily sealed from her lungs. If only she weren't choking, she could rip the rope to shreds. But the rope pressed dismally hard against her throat. Her heart burned with the pain of it, and her body heaved to pull in air. The male had pulled her down in the bushes, and she could see nothing but leaves as she twisted weakly, as her slender fingers pried at that cruelly tight rope and her shapely legs kicked like a pounced doe.

"Sit 'er upright," Wynn heard the female complain. "We can't do it with her thrashin' and twistin' like that."

Wynn was ready for it when the male pulled her up. She gave him a backslap that sent him flying backward through the mud.

"You fucking cunt --!" the male cried as he flew back. When he sat up again, his nose was bleeding. He sneered through the blood.

Agathia, meanwhile, had sprang on Wynn and quickly pressed the shaft of her spear to Wynn's throat, holding her down.

Wynn twisted under Agathia, feeling dizzy and weak as the spear shaft pressed on her windpipe. Cursing and snorting blood, the male tugged the rope mercilessly hard. Wynn gasped dryly as the rope burned her flesh, as the air was pulled so sharply from her mouth. The male pulled the rope again, this time so hard that Wynn felt her long black curls pinching and tangling in it. This resulted in a yank on her mane, and the snatching it gave to her scalp was like a burn. She sagged there in pain, gasping and struggling to catch her breath. With the rope tightening on her and Agathia's spear also pressed against her throat, Wynn thought she was going to die.

"Leave off that rope," Agathia snapped over her shoulder. "You kill her and you're gonna hear from Finivive. I'mma tell her you did it cuz I ain't gettin' killed for you. And if his highness finds out - well, you can kiss your ass goodbye."

The male's beady black eyes were fixed in hatred upon Wynn. His teeth were bare in a grimace as he regarded her. "She's a salty thing. Let that shemale strength go to her head. Thinks she can fight us cuz of it. I was gonna be gentle, love," he added to Wynn, "but now that you had to bust my damned nose, I'mma bust something of yours."

So saying, the male smacked Wynn's legs apart and rammed his fingers in. Wynn jerked and twisted as his fingers caressed and explored but there was no escaping: Agathia was straddling Wynn and had pressed the shaft of her spear so hard against her throat she could barely move for not being able to breathe. She lay there, the green eyes glittering with rage, as the male's fingers glided in her sex, pinched in her juices, and glided again. His thumb caressed her clit as he fingered her, and with horror, she felt it start to throb.

"Tisk, tisk," said the male after a pause. "The princess ain't ah virgin! And look at this now - she's getting wet too! Not only lost her virginity but a whore as well."

Agathia joined in the mockery, putting on a phony expression of surprise. She looked down at Wynn with mischievous dark eyes and clicked her tongue. "Who went and popped that cherry? That winged boy? Looked like a tail chaser to me!"

The pygmies laughed nastily. And laying there feeling weaker by the minute, Wynn glared at them. The male's swarthy and now bloody face came into view as he peered over Agathia's shoulder down at Wynn. He showed Wynn his wet fingers, then slowly licked them. Wynn wanted to close her eyes, but anticipating a smack if she did so, she forced herself to watch as Agathia demanded a taste. The pale gray female sucked hungrily on the male's fingers, then licked her lips and looked at Wynn.

"I like the way you taste, Princess. Will you be my princess?"

"She will if she knows what's good for her," said the male darkly. He leaned down closer and said to Wynn, "I'm gonna sit you up now, love. And I'm gonna fuck you in my lap. Agathia is gonna lick you while I fuck you. And you know what you're gonna do? You're gonna sit on my lap and behave like a good girl. You're gonna make noises and get wetter and juicer as I grab those nice titties, and you're gonna work those wide little hips like my dick's got the elixir in it. Cuz if you don't. . . . well . . . you see this?"

Wynn's lips tightened angrily when the male lifted his dagger and smiled.

"You see it, don't you?" he said nastily. "This will cut your pussy to ribbons if you don't yield. And I'll fuck you anyway, only it will hurt, and you'll cry, and we'll laugh."

"That ain't funny, Illie, don't say things like that!" scolded Agathia, who Wynn was a little shocked to see frowning in concern.

"Well, how else are we gonna get her to stop fighting?" the male snapped. "I don't know if you've noticed, but my nose might be broken here! And thanks for callin' my bluff!" He chucked the dagger angrily in the mud, and Wynn almost laughed at him.

Agathia turned to Wynn and looked down at her with soft eyes. "We're not gonna hurt you, girl. Understand? We just wanna fuck you. All night, if we can get away with it. We'll only hurt you if you give us a reason to. Understand?"

Pressed down in the mud, something in Wynn's eyes relented and she nodded slowly.

Agathia leaned down, and giving Wynn's lips a tender kiss, she whispered against them, "Good girl." She pulled back and nodded at Illie, who moved close with a smile.

Shivering all over with disgust, Wynn allowed herself to be pulled upright. She almost couldn't believe it when Agathia laid in the mud, then the male guided Wynn forward until she was sitting on the little female's face. Wynn gasped and blushed: she was being rimmed! The tip of Agathia's tongue traced around the tight little knot that was Wynn's anus, then suddenly thrust hard inside. Wynn blushed and squirmed and barely kept her balance as that earnest tongue explored her. To her shock and alarm, she felt herself get wetter, and when Agathia grabbed her ass cheeks and peeled them open wide, she wanted to die.

Still sitting on Agathia's face, she fell forward and Illie caught her against him. She couldn't believe it when he kissed her warm on the mouth, ardently and hungrily and with a gentility she had never expected of a pygmy. He pulled her close in his arms, and she felt as if she was being held tight by a muscular little boy. She shivered all over, wanting to escape his arms and the sudden thrill of pleasure she felt when his little cock pressed up and in. He squeezed her ass and she suddenly remembered that he wanted her to ride him. He leaned back on his paws and watched as, blushing still from the rimming that was going on under her tail, Wynn started to gyrate her hips on his dick in deep circles. A spasm went through Illie's body and his brows knitted together with the pleasure. He looked as if he was going to sneeze and Wynn knew this meant he was close to coming. Already? He must've been wound up with the anticipation of it all, he must've been stifling being hard as a rock the entire time they were searching for her.

"Touch your titties," Illie ordered.

Wynn hesitated but cupped her breasts, arching her back from a sudden deep thrust of the insistently hungry tongue in her ass. She massaged her tits, rolling the nipples around in her fingers as she did her best to move her hips against Agathia's slurping. Illie closed his eyes and his head fell back. He murmured, "Oh, god, baby . . ." and Wynn blushed a deeper shade of red.

She knew exactly why she was embarrassed: for the first time in her life, she felt like a piece of meat. When in the arms of her lovers back at the summer village, it had always been she who did the taking, she who grabbed a male's ass when no one was looking, she who winked and flirted and shoved that handsome boy down to take him. But now here she was, being used the same way she had used so many boys. And by pygmies! She wanted to sink into the mud and disappear before a pygmy had their way with her.

"She's too quiet," Agathia complained, her lips brushing Wynn's ass as she paused.

Illie thrust his hips sharply, making Wynn cry out as he ordered, "Noise. Make it."

Wynn stared at him. He couldn't be serious! When she didn't move, he suddenly sat up. The rope was still around her neck and he yanked it until she had fallen over on her stomach. She knew better than to fight: there was no telling if Illie would really hurt her with that dagger or not. So she lay there in the mud as Illie and Agathia bickered. God, it was like they were married. As Wynn lay there listening to them, she couldn't help but suddenly smile: they sounded the way she and Inden often had when children.

Still bickering, the two pulled Wynn up and on her knees. Agathia crawled under and started licking Wynn's pussy, and coming up behind, Illie yanked on the rope as he suddenly sank himself in hard and fast.

With Illie fucking her so wildly and Agathia licking away at where they were so wetly joined, Wynn could not help but make noise now. She bit her lip at first, struggling to keep her cries of pleasure and passion muffled as the pygmies raped and molested her until the bushes rocked. But Illie started groping her breasts with a wild abandon that made the nipples hard as pebbles. He rolled them around in his paws like he was shaping clay, squeezed her softness until the yielding mounds rose between his fingers, and thumbed her nipples as his teeth sank suddenly in her neck. Agathia's hot, wet tongue lapped thirstily at Wynn's clit, pressing hard upon it as if to make it burst. And trapped between their licking and caressing, Wynn arched her back and let her mouth fall open in a shrill and constant cry that started echoing through the trees, "Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, --AH!" She shivered all over and suddenly it happened: her juices gushed over and her little clit sagged. She slumped in Illie's grasp but his paws kept groping and squeezing, kept searching her softness and molesting it with hard fingers that pinched in their hunger. And though Wynn was exhausted and would not come again, Agathia kept licking her.

"The princess is pooped out," mocked Illie, who Wynn could feel still humping her like a horny rabbit. He hunched his back as his dick sank quickly in and out, thrusting up and in her moist walls. "Come on, baby," he panted in Wynn's ear. He licked her cheek and said, "I know you've got more in you than that."

Agathia sat up. "I know what will turn this one on," she said with a dark smile.

Wynn stiffened as the female's pretty face drew close. She smiled into Wynn's eyes, and then suddenly, her little fingers grabbed Wynn's clit and twisted. Wynn let out a shrill cry, but Agathia closed her mouth over hers and kept fingering her clit, massaging and caressing it, then pinching and twisting it until it was throbbing and hot with hunger again. Wynn wept as her body flushed with the heat of fresh arousal, for once her clit was reawakened, it was quickly abandoned and left to its hungry throbbing. She sagged in Illie's arms as he raped her, as he held her paws behind her back and fucked her so hard her tits flapped. Helplessly aroused, she hated herself for it, but she begged Agathia to please touch her there. Agathia laughed and kissed Wynn instead, squeezing and suckling her tits as if there was milk in them. Wynn blushed when her helpless cries came afresh from her mouth, and the two pygmies managed to keep her sobbing and begging until the moon appeared above the jungle.