Page 1 of 1

TARZANN -Slave of Dr. Mamba-01

PostPosted: November 16th, 2025, 2:39 am
by mitru
The sun, a molten disc of orange and violet, bled across the western horizon, painting the vast, emerald canopy of Loango National Park in hues of fire and shadow. The jungle breathed, a living, humid entity, exhaling the day’s heat in a symphony of cicada song and distant primate calls. High above the forest floor, a flash of blonde hair caught the fading light, an impossible beacon amidst the ancient, gnarled branches. Tarzann moved through the uppermost reaches, a blur of motion, her lithe form a seamless extension of the swaying lianas. Small, meticulously crafted skins, animal pelts cured and fitted to her athletic frame, hugged her curves, accentuating the lean power in her limbs, the tautness of her abdomen, the swell of her breasts. Every muscle rippled with contained energy, a testament to a life lived in constant motion, in perfect harmony with the wild.

She flowed from vine to vine, a creature of air and sinew, her bare feet finding purchase on slick bark, her fingers gripping thick, fibrous ropes with effortless strength. The jungle was her cradle, her teacher, her protector. It had molded her, honed her senses, etched its rhythms deep into her bones. Now, she was its guardian, its silent sentinel, watching over the boundless expanse of green with an unwavering gaze. Every rustle of leaves, every snap of a twig, resonated within her, a language she understood implicitly.


A sound, alien to the jungle’s natural symphony, sliced through the evening air. *CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!* A harsh, metallic toll, echoing from the east. The mission bell. Tarzann’s head snapped towards the sound, her eyes, the color of moss after a rain, narrowing. The urgency in the bell’s repeated cry was unmistakable. Something was wrong. Without hesitation, she adjusted her trajectory, a sudden burst of speed propelling her forward. Her movements became more direct, less fluid, a focused arrow shot through the dense foliage. She launched herself across a wide chasm, landing with a soft thud on a thick branch, already swinging to the next. The wind whipped her blonde mane around her face, a wild halo against the darkening sky. The jungle blurred beneath her, a green and black tapestry racing backward as she flew, driven by an instinct that screamed danger.


CLICK HERE to read TARZANN -Slave of Dr. Mamba-01:http://www.mccomix.com/members/gallery3/index.php/Mitru/Tarzann/Slave-of-Dr-Mamba

Image

Read more... ONLY in MCcomix.com!