A feminine shape rises and turns for a moment in the liquid and then is gone again. Your heart pounds at the sight. The soft chanting of the handmaidens echoes within the vast chamber. You stride closer to the basin and stand over it. You are not nearly as large as your giantess mother, but your marriage to Zhibbareth has made you grow much larger and you tower above the handmaidens standing with their heads bowed.
“Janine,” you murmur. “Show me your strength.”
The black liquid bubbles. A claw-like hand reaches out and grabs the rim of the stone basin. Three more hands reach out and also grab the limb. Janine pulls herself up from the liquid and the black drains out of the basin, rejoining the huge tendril of Zhibbareth and descending once more into the pit. You gaze at Janine, seeing the full beauty of her monstrous form. She has skeletal black wings, four arms that end in claws, and a head both resembles her own human head, but with her nose and mouth formed in a large equine snout. Her breasts have grown larger, her hips wider, and flail-like tail hangs down her thick thighs.
“Mother Penelope,” she hisses, baring fangs from her equine mouth.
“You are so beautiful, child,” you say, leaning down to kiss her on her forehead. “You will be mine. Do you understand?”
“I serve you gladly,” hissed the former herald.
“Good. Go and gather an army for me, Janine. Our armies will soon march to the mainland and you will carry my banner.”
“It is my honor,” she says, kneeling before you.
You embrace her tightly, letting her feel the strength of your arms and pressing her snout against your breasts so that your mother’s milk drips down her face. She licks at the cream that slides across her lips.
“Go, Janine,” you say, releasing her from the embrace.
You admire the sway of her hips as she departs followed by the handmaidens. She is not the first of the heralds you have embraced this way, forming a cadre of elite commanders for your personal army of monsters and blessed humans. Your mother has had much longer to assemble her own contingent of warriors, but you have been tireless, even seducing some of her units to your side. You will not allow her to win more favor from Zhibbareth than you. The Great One must know which of his brides is the most devoted and most wise!
As if sensing your thoughts, Zhibbareth stirs in his pit. The entire temple shakes as he rises up from the darkness. Not just a tendril, but his entire, swirling body rises into the air and hovers above the black hole. A single baleful eyes opens and gazes upon you.
“All hail Zhibbareth!” You cry, dropping to your knees and bowing your head.
“Arise, my love,” commands the Great One. You stand up and with a great effort of will you force yourself to look into his eye. The writhing black chaos of his body has driven men and women mad in his presence. You try not to let your gaze linger on this insane flesh. Zhibbareth looms closer and your pulse races as his shadow falls across you. “I know your desire, Penelope.”
You tremble with pleasure at the sound of your name from the Great One’s monstrous lips. At the same time, there is a cold jolt of fear. What desire does he know? You desire only to please him!
“Yes.” The single word thunders in the throne room and in your mind. “Attend me, my bride.”
His flesh spills in a boneless cascade down to the edge of the pit and flows over the shattered tiles. It flows into the basin and overfills it. Black flesh rises, taking a rough humanoid shape with two massive arms and a featureless head. Your gaze remains fixed on the enormous, swirling cock that rises from between this shape’s legs.
You do not need to be told twice to attend the Great One. You crawl before him and begin caressing and stroking his writhing flesh. You run your tongue over it even as it shifts beneath your touch like so many worms twisting together. Your lips find the fat cap of his cockhead and you take him into your mouth. You suck at the Great One’s cock and drink the mind-altering liquid that drips from his cock. The world seems to shift around you so that you are in a swirling realm of the Great One’s desires, pleasuring him with your mouth, your hands, between your soft breasts, and rising to your feet to grind your ass against his cock.
Zhibbareth holds you in his massive hands. He created these hands just to touch your body. He squeezes your breasts and presses a gagging finger into your mouth. He grinds his cock against your cunt and you quiver with desire. His huge eye looms behind this smaller figure, watching as this part of him caresses you and finally sinks its enormous glistening cock into your eager cunt.
Your body is there for his pleasure. Your flesh exists only to serve him. Your mind is only a mote of dust caught in the maddening beam of light that is the Great One’s power.
His huge cock ripples, bulges and twists inside your stretched cunt as he fucks so deep he pours his flesh into your womb. Your belly distends with each thrust. Your head bounces and your mouth hangs open. You quake with orgasm after orgasm, your body at his mercy and your mind adrift in the onslaught of his lust.
“I favor you.” His voice booms in your mind. “You are more beautiful. You are more eager. You are more ambitious.”
“Th-thank you,” you gasp, your tits swinging and spurting milk as he takes you from behind. His massive black hands wrap around your waist and hold tight as his huge cock stretches you wide and plunders your womb.
“You will be my only bride.” His voice thunders in your mind, but is silent in the room. Though you are under the influence of his addicting precum and the power of his presence, you still know what this means.
“My… my mother?” You gasp, your head bouncing with each mighty, belly-stretching thrust.
“Your mother will be changed. She may still serve her purpose. You are the only bride I desire.” The face of the black figure presses to your neck and exhales the scent of ancient graves and dead cities. “You, my queen. My Penelope.”
His cock throbs within your stretched cunt, nearing the point of release.
“Are you not grateful?” He growls, nuzzling his shifting, inhuman face against your neck.
How do you respond?
Convince Zhibbareth you are both worthy
Rebuke Zhibbareth for betraying your mother
Accept Zhibbareth’s offer and reign as queen
Surrender
Why fight this? These two lovely creatures seem very nice and you are still thrilling at the way one of the plant girls licked and sucked your breast.
“I surrender,” you say to them both, holding up your hands. “I will do whatever you desire.”
Their blank faces are hard to read, but they seem surprised by your willingness. They circle around you, plucking at your clothing with their slender fingers. You cannot help but admire their bodies, with their long, slightly awkward legs, slender hips, and disproportionately huge breasts. They are strange, but exquisitely beautiful. They almost remind you of the images you have seen of dryads, but these plant girls lack the vitality and capriciousness in all descriptions of those creatures.
They coo softly as they begin to caress you and squeeze your body through your clothing. They relieve you of your weapons, tossing them aside as they circle. They begin to undress you, baring your breasts and giggling with delight at the sight of your creamy mounds. One of the plant girls teases you with a fleeting kiss and a momentary taste of her sweet nectar.
“You must drink of our sap,” whispers the other as she works your skirt and panties down your thighs.
They intertwine their arms and stand side-by-side, their bulging breasts dripping with amber liquid. They squeeze their breasts with their free hands, producing a dribbling flow of the sweet-smelling liquid.
“Drink,” they moan in unison.
You have already submitted to desire and do not hesitate to embrace them both and begin eagerly licking one purple nipple and then another. You lick up the sweet fluid that has bubbled to their dark buds and begin eagerly sucking at their nipples. The cool sap flows heavily with each suck and you gulp it down, ma
rveling at the plentiful sweetness and enjoying the drunken warmth that spreads throughout your body.
“There’s more to taste down here,” giggles one of the plant girls, reaching down to touch her delicate slit. You marvel at the honey-dripping folds of her cunt and feel a hot surge of desire. She hardly has to push at all to guide your face between her smooth, white thighs. You moan as you bury your tongue in her flower-scented pussy. Her depths are cool as they clutch against your thrusting tongue. She pills a great quantity of her nectar into your mouth and you suck and swallow greedily.
“Oh, yes,” moans the plant girl. “Drink it all up, pretty one.”
“Do not forget me,” says the other plant girl, guiding your face to her pussy so that you can tongue her syrupy slit.
As you lick and suck at their sweet pussies, you thrust a hand between your thighs and begin to play with your pussy. The more you taste of their delicate folds and their spilling juice, the more turned on you become. Your lust builds to the point that you are moaning loudly and bucking to thrust against your fingers. Your own hot juices spill down your thighs and over your fingers. You gasp between the thighs of one of the plant girls.
“Do not stop,” she moans, pulling your face tightly against her cunt.
You jam your tongue deep into her sap-dripping cunt and drink greedily as you ride your fingers to an intense orgasm. You gaze up at her through pleasure-heavy eyes, her tits dripping her syrup onto your face and shoulders as she seems to have an orgasm as well. You twitch your hips and fuck against your fingers until you have spent your pleasure. Your heightened lust remains and you continue to play with your straining clit as you move back to the other plant girl and furiously tongue her pussy.
The pleasure seems endless and you lick and suck their plentiful nectar. They sit atop you and squeeze out their syrup onto your tongue. They feed you from their plump breasts and caress your clit with their nimble fingers. You writhe against them as their amber-colored syrup covers your naked flesh. You exhaust yourself in their eager embrace.
“I can’t cum anymore,” you laugh, your breasts heaving as you gasp for breath. “I need to rest.”
“Mother will help you rest,” says one of the plant girls as she strokes your hair.
“You should rest inside her pod,” says the other plant girl.
It seems perfectly logical. They have this wonderful, comfortable place to rest and you are exhausted. They help you to your feet and you stagger over to the pod. The floral scent of the plant girls is even stronger around the fleshy pod.
“There you are,” says one of the plant girls, gently guiding you into the soft, fleshy interior of the pod. “Curl up and go to sleep.”
“See you soon, sister,” says the other plant girl, leaning down to kiss you on your lips.
Your eyes are heavy as you curl up into a tight ball on the soft floor of the pod. The clamshell slowly closes around you and everything is dark. You are so warm in the darkness. So very warm and happy.
CONTINUE >
Refuse to stay with the sorceress
You shake your head firmly to clear your mind of seductive images of assisting and pleasuring Marabelle.
“No,” you say. “No, I will not. You’re a monster, turning women into cows for your pleasure, and I’ll have no part in this!”
Marabelle laughs throatily. “Oh my dear! You haven’t seen anything yet!”
You turn sharply on her and leave, but her laughter rings out behind you, following you into the main milking room. The sound of Marabelle’s laughter is drowned out by the moan of the women and the thump of the pumps. For a moment you stop, considering smashing the machines and freeing all of the women. But the moment passes. If you did, Marabelle would doubtless come, and the whole point of your humiliating encounter in the tub room was to avoid such a thing. As well, even should you free the girls, what then? You can see by their pleasure-dulled eyes and drooling mouths they are too far gone for help, at least right now.
Reluctantly, you leave the barn and its moaning occupants. Picking up your jacket from the kitchen you depart the cottage. You glance back as you go, and you are struck by the now sinister lie of the pastoral scene. You now know the truth, and if you listen carefully, you can faintly hear the moaning from the barn.
You shudder and turn away. Whatever evil lurks in the woods, you’ll face it. Whatever depravity and horror stands between you and your family, you will defeat it.
As you walk past the wards and into the shadows of the trees, you feel the darkness of the island close on you again, and the omnipresent musty air of corruption which permeates it like fog.
CONTINUE >
You're definitely not ready for that
Your face goes a deep shade of crimson and you look away from the lewd toy Velora is holding in her hand.
"Oh, no," you say, almost crying with embarrassment. "Oh, no, that is just too strange. Oh, my."
You cannot bear to have a cock inside you right now, even if it is made of wood. The thought of your comely friend strapping the thing to her body, well, that is just too bizarre to even consider for a moment. It reminds you of how the seductive demons called Succubae are able to grow cocks of sometimes grotesque proportions to violate women they have seduced and turn them into lesser Succubae slaves. You have always found the illustrations of such creatures alluring, but also terrifying.
That fear must be showing on your face.
"Fair enough," says Velora.
She takes the toy back to her box before returning to your side of the room. She poses with her hands on her tilted hips, looking as voluptuous and comely as ever. There is much to admire: those green eyes and her pouting lips, those plump breasts, and the way her tanned arms and face contrast with her creamy paleness beneath her gown. You almost regret refusing her suggestion.
She frowns and says, "You are going to need more of a sense of adventure, my bookish young friend. The road is no place for a girl who won't take chances."
"It's not about chances, it's just, well, that was unusual," you say, gesturing as if you have a cock strapped to your own sex.
"The unusual creates more possibilities," says Velora, sinking onto the bed beside you. She crawls over and presses a gentle kiss to your lips. Her warm mouth lingers, her tongue teasing, but not ravishing you as her hand caresses your thighs. She pulls back, leaving you breathless.
“I must face my predicament,” you say with a disappointed smile. “No more of these... games with you, Velora.”
Velora seems as if she is going to offer one of her saucy rejoinders. Instead, her full lips tighten into a line and she gives you a slight nod in reply.
“Very well,” she murmurs. “You were heading to Estermar?”
“Yes, to find passage by ship across the Ilwent Sea.”
“Well,” she stands from the bed. “I have a merchant friend who can take you to Estermar. Not so much a friend as a regular customer.”
“Your customer can take me?” You raise an eyebrow in doubt.
“I can convince Boggen Luckfen to do just about anything I want. He is a bit fat, has a wee prick, but he is insatiable, not to mention very rich. Those are things I can work with. I will go and see him tonight and arrange things on your behalf.” She rises from the bed and a glimpse of her plump bottom makes you long to have her return to the bed and perhaps sit upon your face. “You gather up your things and be ready to travel in the morning.”
You watch her dress and begin gathering your clothing along with the equipment your sister sent you. An outfit of a loose skirt, a fitted bodice, and the hide coat seems well-suited to your ample physique. You wear the sword on your back and the pistols on your right hip. The family’s priceless codex of monsters represents your life’s work. You nestle it with spare clothes in your backpack alongside a small tin box containing ink and pens for any new discoveries. You add the alchemical potion Kara has sent you, careful to ensure no components might leak onto the codex.
“I almost
look like a proper monster hunter,” you say, admiring yourself in the mirror. Then you recall your lithe sister and your powerful mother and you feel diminished. No matter how well you wear the costume of a monster hunter, you are still just a scribe who has bested no monster more dangerous than a spider hiding among dusty books. Even those you usually scoop up and release to safety outside the library.
You change into a comfortable and rather shapeless skirt and loose blouse for the road. If you will be traveling with this Boggen Luckfen, a randy customer of Velora’s, then you will need to be on your guard about his intentions. No good can come from giving him a glimpse of your ample cleavage, so you ensure the blouse is buttoned to your throat.
You sit on the bed with your boots on, your backpack in your lap and your satchel of weapons, ready to go. And you sit. And you wait. And you sit. And finally, seemingly moments before dawn, Velora turns the key in the door and staggers into the flat. Even before she takes down the hood of her cloak you see how disheveled and exhausted she is.
“Boggen Luckfen’s caravan is setting out for Estermar in one hour,” says Velora. “I have fucked him senseless and he has promised you passage in one of his freight wagons. You must go now and meet them at the eastern gate of Akrane.”
You put on your backpack, noting uncomfortably how the straps frame your ample breasts in your blouse. Too late to worry about that. You heft your satchel full of weapons and head for the door.
“Thank you, Velora,” you say. “I will not forget this.”
“You had better not,” she says and kisses you full on the lips. The force and passion of her kiss is both a surprise and a comfort to you. It centers you in the moment. “Luckfen has had enough of my quim to last him a week. Plenty of time for you to make it to Estermar. But you are a pretty girl, Penny, whether you realize it or not. He might take a liking to you, so stay out of his sight as much as possible.”
Escape the Island of Eldritch Lust Page 39