Return of the King...The Frog King

This is an honor to the older Savage Land story. Enjoy.

Thanks to chatgpt for working to fill in gaps.

Without further ado...

The Return of the King...Gorgmoth Guurk!!

Earth...9am....Baxter Building.

The message did not arrive the way messages were supposed to. There was no signal spike, no Negative Zone distortion Reed would have diagrammed with too much enthusiasm. It simply appeared—pressed into Sue Storm’s awareness like a thumbprint left on warm glass.

Two words.

A statement.

A name.

Spoken long ago. A name revered and reviled.

“Surgmoth Guurk!”

Sue stood alone in the hangar long after the lights dimmed, the echo of that name vibrating somewhere beneath her ribs. She did not consult Reed. She did not leave a note. She chose a small, fast craft and filed the flight path under a classification no one ever checked.

Some things were hers alone.

The Negative Zone peeled open around her ship as she flew, colors folding in on themselves, impossible geometries sliding past like half-remembered dreams. The Zone noticed her—she felt that familiar pressure, that sense of being observed by something too large to care—but it did not interfere.

Ahead waited a minor asteroid, scorched and dry, its surface a mess of dunes and broken stone. A dead place pretending to be stable. A single structure dominated it: a vast dome, squat and indulgent, rising from the wasteland like a monarch who refused to kneel.

Tatooine, she thought again, and this time the comparison stuck.

As the ship settled, sand spiraled upward in lazy curls. Sue powered down and rose from her seat. Only then did she really look at herself.

The suit clung close—blue, sleeveless, high-collared, practical in theory and ceremonial in execution. The cut was unmistakable. Strong lines. Exposed thighs. White gloves and boots that framed her like a figure meant to be seen, even when invisible.

Her breath caught.

It wasn’t her modern uniform. Not quite. But the resemblance was undeniable.

Too close to the Savage Land warrior garb she’d worn once. Too close to the way the Frog Tribe had adorned their queen.

Her fingers brushed the fabric at her hip.

“Why this?” she muttered.

The answer stirred uninvited.

Savage Land.

Heat.

Green shadows and stone.

The Fantasticar breaking apart in fire and screaming metal. The sky tilting wrong. Her powers dulled the moment she hit the jungle floor—like the world itself had placed a hand over her mouth.

She remembered the Valley of the Toad: steaming pools, carved terraces slick with moss, drums echoing at all hours. The Southland Frog Tribe had watched her with wide, unblinking eyes as she was dragged before their king.

Gorgmoth Guurk.

Huge. Soft with indulgence. Ancient with authority. His voice had rolled through her like thunder filtered through water.

She had resisted. Gods, she had resisted. She’d fought, screamed, broken spears with force-fields that barely held. They chained her anyway.

Then came the flowers.

Large, waxy petals crushed and rolled, smoked in shallow bowls that burned cool and sweet. The smoke hadn’t stolen her will—not at first. It softened it. Rounded the sharp edges. Made the air feel thicker, warmer, more forgiving.

The drinks followed. Fermented nectars, heavy and spiced, served in ritual order. Always after chanting. Always after the drums. Always after Gorgmoth’s hands rested on her shoulders, grounding her, steady as stone.

The rituals were the worst part to remember—and the hardest to untangle.

They were structured. Repetitive. Built around call and response, around surrender framed as belonging. Around the Great Croak, the tribe’s ancient god, whose voice was said to echo through all living things.

She had laughed at first.

Later, she listened. Heard it in everything around her. A low rumbled throughout the jungle.

Battle changed everything.

When lizard men raided from the south, when Avians struck from the cliffs, Sue fought—not as a captive, but as a weapon. Her instincts sharpened. Her powers returned in flashes. She stood beside Gorgmoth, invisible shields snapping into place as if answering a call she hadn’t known she could hear.

The tribe watched a human slave become something else.

A consort.

A queen.

She took his hand.

The wedding night came with drums, chanting, and heat that never seemed to fade. She remembered her own voice—raw, loud, croaking words she should not have known how to pronounce.

“I take my place as Suuuurgmoth Guuuurk!”

The Savage Land changed people. It always had.

The ramp hissed open, snapping her back to the present.

Sue Storm stepped onto alien sand and faced the dome.

The massive door loomed, flanked by grotesque statues frozen in indulgent menace. A robotic eye opened.

“WHO GOES THERE?” A robot voice buzzed.

“Susan Storm Richards.” She answered.

A buzz... metallic voice, “IDENTITY NOT RECOGNIZED. ACCESS DENIED.”

Susan sighed. “Susan Storm.”

No response.

“The Invisible Woman.” She all but yelled.

Still nothing.

Sue exhaled slowly.

Then, without meaning to—without choosing to—her throat shaped an older sound.

“Suuuurgmoth…”

The croak slid free, perfect Southland Frog dialect returning as if it had never left.

“…Guuurk.”

The door shuddered.

Locks disengaged.

Stone parted.

Inside, heat and sound crashed over her. Music thumped. Smoke curled. Droids and Negative Zone mercenaries mingled with creatures that looked assembled rather than born. A party in full, decadent swing.

At the far end, on a raised dais piled with cushions and trophies, sat a familiar bulk.

Gorgmoth Guurk.

“Welcome, Suuuurgmoth, my love,” he croaked warmly. “I have missed you.”

Something inside Sue fractured—and rushed to fill the space.

She surged forward, force-fields flaring as patrons scrambled aside. The room braced itself. Weapons half-raised.

Everyone certain they were about to see a king die.

Instead—

She leapt into his arms.

Her hands clutched him. Her face pressed to his scarred cheek. She kissed him without hesitation, fingers tracing the jagged mark left by Ka-Zar’s blade.

“You’re alive,” she sobbed. “You’re alive. What did they do to you?”

“My queen,” he rumbled.

“My husband,” she said, the word tearing free. “My husband is alive.”

“Privacy,” Gorgmoth commanded, pressing a control.

Walls rose from the floor, sealing the dais in a private chamber.

The crowd stared—then erupted into cheers as the music surged back to life.

From behind the barrier, Sue’s voice rang out, loud and unguarded.

“Oh gods, my love—don’t stop—!”

The party roared on.

And somewhere deep in the Negative Zone, the Great Croak listened—amused, patient, and very much awake.

Inside the private chamber, by the time the walls had lifted from the ground creating a private room for Susan and Gorgmoth, the pair were passionately kissing. In their own way, the Frog King's black tongue wrapped around Susan's own pink human tongue. Only momentarily. The adept elder frog slipped his tongue out and down between the girls breasts. She seemed content to kiss his warted for head lovingly.

His tongue slid down and quickly under and around the small piece of fabric covering Susan's sex. The King tasted his pretty little human mate for the first time in ages.

His tongue both thick and thin and twisting sliced up inside Susan causing her to gasp. She hadn't worn panties and had been dripping wet between her legs since she left the Baxter Buildings Distortion Area lab. It should have told her just how this meeting would end. The tongue slid up and around her clit, partly still inside of her..

Somehow. She bit her lips eyes rolled when the tongue wrapped around her bud.

"Oh gods my love....don't stop!" She shouted and couldn't contain herself not even caring for the cheers that rang from the other side of the wall. The party continued outside but inside lovers renewed their passion. "Ohhhh godds!" Sue screamed holding her head.

Gorgmouths tongue twisted and turned. Susan began to spray from her cunt and the Frog cupped the flat tongue to catch her essence and flip it up to his gaping Maw. The sweet taste of his human...a flavor he had once savored daily but had since forgotten.

Sue was straddling him with an invisible set of pillows below her knees. Not even 15 minutes since planetfall and he'd already had her cumming. Her hand searched beneath the loincloth above the Frogs crotch. A loincloth was pretty much all Frogkind wore even in battle. No need for other garb. She was searching for his thick green prick. She found it on her first try running down his right leg. Her hand gripped the green bulbous prick and he groaned, pulling his wet tongue back to his mouth.

Sue rubbed the thick brown and green warted bumpy prick that was synced to his right leg. Another Frogkind tradition. To avoid their heavy pricks from interfering in fights, battles and wars. Sue's free hand snuck to her heeled boot. From the white boot she pulled out a golden one inch blade with a jeweled handle. Jewels more priceless than anything in the fabled Crown Jewels.

When Gorgmoth beheld the blade he smiled. "You kept it?"

"I would never...NEVER lose my husband's cock knife!" Sue said sternly looking in his eyes. "Never!" She kissed his forhead and then reached under his loincloth to cut the bands restraining his dick. Like a wedding ring to humans a Frogkind bride accepted her husband's cock knife on their wedding. It is a Frogkind bride's duty to free her mates cock and ensure it's satisfied.

Susan lifted the green and brown thick member from under the scarce loincloth. She then straddled it. The head, more rounded than mushroom cap suddenly was right below her dripping human pussy. She sank herself softly on his head. Teasing him, only momentarily. "I missed you my love!" She told him.

"And I you my darling!" He nodded. He then croaked loudly from his guy and throat when a human pussy sank onto his cocktip. An inch of his hot cock sliced up inside her. His feet raised up from the joy. Long had it been since he felt his pretty little humans pussy.

Sue was smiling. Herself, recalling every bump and wart of the hot frog cock she now slid upon. Inch by inch she took it. Sue's eyes crossed and she embraced his large amphibian head. Kissing his forehead. Her pussy clamping upon half his prick. She was already cumming do hard her toes curled in her boots.

Gorgmoth croaked again, louder now, to cheers from behind the walls. His croaks were those of obvious joy. He was fighting to urge to cum. Her hot tight human pussy wasn't helping his battle.

"My love," Sue whispered in his ear slits. She teased sinking more and more on his cock, sliding up less and less. "You fight a losing war!" She licked his ear slit. "Cum with me my darling." She sank down deep. Her hand reaching down to cup his swollen black ballsac.. Her stomach suddenly rumbled and a throaty croak came from her when he pussy sank and she found herself fully impaled. Her pussy clamped the bumpy frog cock and her rumbling stomach and throat reverberated in the chest of her lover.

Gormoth lost his battle. A deep triumphant Croak echoed through the chamber and shook the walls. The cheers grew louder. The room shook and the frog cock finally erupted inside the tight human snatch.

Sue groaned and croaked, cumming from lava hot frog seed filling her love tunnel. Her lips kissed his slimy forehead, making her kisses sticky and gooey coating her lips. She didn't care. Only bliss. For both.