Kara stares at you through the flames, her voice growing harder.
“The alternative to madness is worse. I fear that mother has been turned by the Great One. She now serves his monstrous agenda and was trying to lure me into a trap.”
“Surely she would not lure her own daughter into danger,” you say. As soon as you have spoken those words, you know that all the evidence suggests otherwise.
“She is doing exactly that, to both of us. Somehow, this thing has influence over her and she has been enslaved to his evil.” She leans towards the fire, her face underlit and frightening. “We cannot trust our mother, Penny. Our own mother. Such is the power of the evil we face.”
She leans back and stirs the fire with a stick again. After a long silence, she asks, "Was there something else?"
What do you want to know?
Tell me how the doppelganger captured you
Tell me how you made your way across the island
Tell me what you know about the great one
Enough questions, we had better continue our journey
Offer your ass to the beast
You moan softly as you realize you look at the beast and his huge cock and realize that you crave being mounted by this monster. You have been so afraid of it since your arrival on Ctharne, the idea that you might willingly give your body to it is a thrilling perversion of your hunter’s duty. You look at your mother, a smile upon your trembling lips. You see her happiness as she leans forward and kisses you softly.
“Yes, my sweet, I knew you would join me,” she kisses you again with a bit of inappropriate passion. You pull back, but are not offended, only eager to give yourself to the beast.
“I want him,” you whisper, “to take my ass.”
“Oh, do you now?” You mother raises an eyebrow and laughs. “Any portal is suitable for his power. I am sure your plump bottom will please his magnificent cock.”
“What do I do?” You ask her uncertainly.
“Oh, sweet Penny, simply get down on your hands and knees, put your face to the floor, and pull up your gown. Would you like me to help?”
“Please, mother,” you say, smiling hopefully.
Your mother guides you to your knees and pushes you over onto your hands. Your backside is facing the beast and you look over your shoulder to see him watching and licking his chops. Your mother caresses your lower back up to your neck. She slides her hand back down, between your shoulders, and presses hard. You lose your balance and flop your plump breasts and face onto the velvet floor. Your mother grabs your soft hips and raises your creamy backside.
“Yes, look at that juicy ass of yours,” she chuckles. “Even bigger than the last time I saw it.”
She slips her hands under your gown to raise it up your thighs and over your ass. She caresses both of your cheeks.
“Oh, mother, don’t touch me like that,” you moan. She replies by giving your ass a short, sharp swat.
“Reach back,” she says. “Lean your weight on your tits and reach back with both hands to spread these creamy cheeks for him.”
Leaning the entire weight of your upper body on your breasts and your face is more than a little awkward as you reach back with both hands and grab your ass. Your face is hot with shame as you submissively spread your cheeks wide, offering up your pink pucker to the beast.
“Good, good,” purrs your mother. She gives your soft ass one last squeeze and scoots back to give you room.
Your heart beats wildly as the beast draws closer. The dream reality is both hazy and ultra-realistic depending on the moment. Your mother begins a blur, but you are hyper-focused on the beast as he climbs heavily atop your rump. His human-like hands grasp your waist and the strong musk of his fur fills your nostrils. His hot, slick cock presses between your spread cheeks, rubbing against your tender asshole.
“Ohhhhh, yes, fuck me,” you moan with depraved submissiveness.
The beast’s clawed hands slide from your waist down to your shoulders and he mounts you properly like a great shaggy wolfdog, his cock pushing insistently at your tight clench. A part of you realizes his cock is too big and a part of you does not care. His cock is so warm and wet against your asshole. You suck in a deep breath, close your eyes, and try to relax for him.
The beast does not care if you are relaxed or not. He thrusts his cock into your ass, skewering you on his massive member. You shriek with shock as his huge cock penetrates your clutching asshole and the hot snake of his cock slides into you until you feel his furry body against your crack and the curves of your spread cheeks. His hands on your shoulders press his weight down, driving your tits and face into the floor as he begins to rut into you like a dog.
You know you should be ashamed of what is happening on some level, but you are not at all. You revel in the sensation of your ass being opened wide with each thrust of his cock. You whine with submissive pleasure as he pumps his hot length in and out of your ass. Your mother moans supportively from the bed. She sounds as if she is pleasuring herself as she watches, but your mind cannot even focus on her.
The great one and his pet beast are all that matter. That huge cock throbs ruinously inside you and you cum for him, gasping, your asshole twitching around the cock as it pounds in and out of your pucker. That beastly pillar is so deep it feels as if his cock is spearing at your beating heart. The deeper he goes, the harder you cum around him.
You feel his huge cock swell and begin to jerk inside you. A hot flood of his beastly seed pours deep into your ass.
“Oh, he’s cumming inside me,” you cry.
“Yes!” Your mother shouts triumphantly. “Yes! Take it all, Penelope! Receive the power and wisdom of the great one!”
You climax again and again around the beast’s spurting cock as your ass fills with his slippery seed. You feel something else pushing at your asshole, a bulge at the base of the beast’s massive cock, and your eyes go wide with shock.
“No! It’s too much!”
“All of it,” cries your mother. “You must take it all! Take the glory of his power!”
You grit your teeth as the beast’s knot begins to push inside your asshole, opening you wider and wider until your little pucker is impossibly stretched. His cock begins to spurt once more, deeper even than before, and there is nowhere for his boiling cum to go but deeper still inside your body. To your heart itself.
In a white flash, you take it all, and the dream world recedes into a haze of wailing pleasure. You hear your mother cooing encouragement as the dream fades into nothingness.
CONTINUE >
The gift of servitude
After carefully considering the options, a gift of servitude sounds useful. If you had the djinn as your servant, the trials before you would be nothing. You look up at the face amid the storm. “I wish for the gift of servitude!”
The mouth grins. “SO YOU HAVE ASKED! SO IT SHALL BE! FOR WHAT COULD BE A GREATER REWARD THAN A SERVANT TO ME!”
“What!” Before you can move the purple mist swirls down and engulfs you. You gasp in surprise, but the only serves to fill your lungs with the swirling smoke. You cough but it does nothing to dislodge it, then shudder with a moan as the mists envelop you, your already sensitive skin tingling everywhere it touches. And oh but it touches you everywhere.
Your head throbs and you feel darkness close in. It’s like a sudden break in your thoughts.
Then, your mind clears. The smoke swirls away and you sway, shaking your head and reorienting yourself. The room you stand in has a floor of tiled stone that gleams a polished white. A throne of pillows rest before you and the air is warm and humid. A gentle breeze passes through the pillared hall, rustling the transparent silken strip of cloth which hangs before your groin. Your golden girdle cradles your hips and a pair of golden discs caps your nipples, a thin chain hanging between them and holding them in place.
Now you remember! You’re a slave of the mighty Kalif of Arraza. You were once a fair princess before you caught the kalif’
s eye and he bade you brought to his harem. A look was all you needed of the mighty ruler of Arraza. At once you had begged your father to let you go to him in gold and little else. A slave to his whims, for the idea of disobedience to the mighty kalif is simply unthinkable.
The door to the room suddenly flies open and in strides the kalif. The man you have been sworn to since you were a child. He is tall and proud. His skin is bronzed and bared, only a pair of billowing pants covering his magnificence. His face is stern and proud, picturesque like it had been carved of bronze by some master sculptor. The mere sight of his stormy eyes sends an ache of longing through your body. You tremble at his majesty, and obediently wait his command.
He stops abruptly before you, a frown creasing his features. “Why do you stand before me, slave?”
You gasp in shock and at once drop to hands and knees, pressing your forehead subserviently on the cool floor. “Forgive me master! I was overcome by your presence.”
The kalif laughs roughly and strides towards you. You quiver beneath his shadow, but not all of it is fear. No. There is anticipation. For even under his lash is to be given his attention. And there is no higher purpose in your life than to give him pleasure.
“You should know better, harlot,” he says harshly as he passes you. He settles himself upon the throne of pillows, letting his sculpted form drape the cushions easily. You feel his stormy eyes trail along your prostrate bum.
“You will need to be punished.”
A thrill shoots through you, curling your toes and settling as a warm heat in the bottom of your stomach. Still kneeling, you stammer out, “Y-yes master!”
“But it is punishment,” he says promptly. “For my pleasure, but not yours. So it shall not be by my hand it is done.” Your Master lifts his hands and claps twice.
The doors to the chamber open once more. Burly men, clean shaven and wearing naught but loincloths stride through. Though as powerfully built as your master, they lack his regal bearing and royal presence. They are mere slaves. Agents of your master’s will. You feel a thrust of shame like a dagger through you at the knowledge you have displeased him so, but as you stand and take your place between the two, you raise your head, proud to take your master’s punishment.
Chains are lowered from the ceiling and your arms secured. One of the slaves takes out a many tailed flogger from his belt.
“Turn her towards me,” the kalif says. “I desire to watch.”
Flushing, you turn to face your master. You keep your eyes subserviently lowered, listening to the slave move behind you. You hear him draw back his arm, then the whistle of the flogger through the air.
You arch, head thrown back, a cry escaping you as the tongues of the flogger stroke your back, raising angry red welts. You do not try to suppress your cries of pain. It’s what your kalif wishes.
“Count them!” the kalif commands.
“Yes my kalif!” you gasp. You hear the snap of the flogger’s straps and feel them slap across your naked back, reddening flesh once white as cream. “Two!” you cry. “Three! Four!”
Again and again the floggers strikes you. With every blow you arch, the chains upon your breasts jangling at the motion, your heavy breasts bouncing. The kalif watches this intently. Lazily he begins to stroke himself, and you see the bulge of his arousal stretch the fabric of his pants, straining against his conquering manhood.
He is not alone. The sight of your lord’s arousal makes the agony of your punishment change. The pain sings through you now. Your nipples press fiercely against the coins of your brazier. The strip of silk fans your heated nethers as you thrust beneath the flogger’s blows. Soon enough the near transparent fabric clings to your cunny, conforming to your folds, dampened with your arousal.
The kalif holds up his hand. “Stop!”
The slave with the flogger does so at once. You hang from your cuffs, panting, head swimming with the exultant pain. You watch through lidded eyes as the kalif rises and strides towards you. He grasps your chin in his hand and raises your face to look at him.
“Weak,” he says, but though his words are of contempt, the fire in his eyes and the heavy motions of his chest belie his true feelings.
Your heart flutters. “Only for you. Master,” you gasp.
“It seems there’s no point in punishing you. You only enjoy every torment.”
“For I know it is your will,” you sigh.
The kalif grunts. “Your subservience pleases your master,” he says. Without warning he forces back your head and presses his lips to yours. At once you yield to his hungry kiss, arching and pressing your trembling body against him. Your pale flesh throbs as it touches his fierce bronze. You feel his length strain at his pants, pressing against the silken strips which masks you aching cunt.
He breaks the kiss, still grasping you fiercely by the chin. The strength in those arms. He could break your neck with ease. You tremble, but only in how this degree of control further impresses his superiority. You look up into his flashing eyes with adoration.
Your master sees this, and his eyes smolder.
There is a click as a slave removes your shackles. Your master crushes you against him, your breasts molding to his tone chest.
Suddenly, he thrusts you away from him. He turns you about and forces you to your knees. You feel him kneel behind you, hear the fabric of his pants slide away. Then, you feel the heat of his cock as he presses it against you, running its length along the groove of your dripping folds. You moan, rocking against him, stroking yourself against his length. “Please, master,” you say. “Please, my kalif. Fuck me. Fill me.”
“Treasured whore,” he says. His rough hands grasp your hips and you feel the angle change, the head of his cock prodding your cunt.
He enters you in a single thrust. You arch, gasping, feeling him enter you, fill you completely. “Ooooh,” you moan.
He shoves your face into the floor. “Stupid slut! You are nothing but a beast. Slave to your desires. So I shall take you as such!”
“Please! Master! Yes! Yes!”
He complies. Ruthlessly he fucks you, hammering you on your hands and knees, sawing into your cunt. You take the punishing blows of his hips. Your breasts swing beneath you, your creamy flesh, still reddened by the strapping from before, burning with an aching pain.
You cum about his cock. Twice. Three times. Little more than a slave to your desire. A thing to be fucked. A tool of the kalif’s pleasure. Moaning, gasping, reduced to mere animal noises of pleasure, you feel him tense, then roar as he cums inside you.
You wilt like a flower beneath the glory of the sun. Your thoughts flee as his hot seed fills you, your eyes glazing in the glory of servitude to your master.
Eventually, your kalif pulls out. Almost at once a plug of gold bedecked with jewels is pushed into your cunt by one of the slaves. You clench about the intrusion, for you must not lose a drop of the royal seed.
The kalif reclines back among the cushions, not even winded. You begin to rise, then feel rough hands hold you down. You look up to see the two slaves maneuver about you. Expressionless, their bald heads calm. They remove their loincloths, baring their cocks.
You glance questioningly at the kalif but he seems content to watch the proceedings with a critical eye. You don’t attempt to struggle. Of course. His seed is reward enough. Willingly you move to the touch of the male slaves. One parts your fleshy ass. Dispassionately he lubes himself up with oil from a golden dish. You twitch as his finger presses into your bum, the warm oil soothing the convulsive clench of inner muscles.
The one before you is not idle. Standing before you, he strokes himself to semi hardness. You assist forthwith, leaning forward and tonguing the underside, tasting his musky cock.
As one the two slaves grasp your two ends. Then, they enter you. You groan about the cock which enters your throat, marveling that you can take it completely. But then, you have been doing it since you arrived. This knowledge comforts you, and you can better apprecia
te it when the two slaves begin to move inside you, patiently spit roasting you.
Yet even as these two men fuck you from both ends, your eyes are drawn to the man seated among the cushions. The one who strokes himself as he watches you being fucked before him.
Your love.
Your master.
And you, his slave.
BAD END
<< START OVER | < SKIP PROLOGUE | INDEX
Neither! Fling the lye flask!
You are a huntress! It has been in your blood for generations! You do not give up to monsters no matter how big or powerful, not for pleasure and definitely not to be slurped up and turned into mush.
“I have a counter-offer,” you say and throw the lye granule at the slime. She shrieks and clears away from the spilled granules. A few land on her slime and those parts of her sizzle and dissolve.
After a moment, she begins to laugh. “You think that will stop me? This pitiful little powder?”
“Not at all,” you say, drawing two other vials from your backpack. “But with this reagent and catalyst I am fairly certain you are going to regret threatening me!”
You think you see a flash of fear on the gelatinous likeness of your mother as you unstopper the vials and throw them both at the spilled granules. The moment the three chemicals mix there is a violent explosion of pink foam. The frothing compound spreads quickly cover the protean, devouring and dissolving her wherever it touches. She wails and retreats as the foam spreads over the many men and women trapped in her gelatinous body. They slip free of their slimy prisons and into the foam, which is no more caustic to a human than the lather from soap.
“No! Nooooo! My children!” The protean wails with anguish. The foam continues to spread across the chamber and drive her back into the side tunnels and the shaft in the ceiling.
You take a moment to smile with satisfaction. Your triumphant grin fades quickly as you see the foam already bubbling and beginning to collapse. No time to stand around and gloat if you are going to get these people out of here.
Escape the Island of Eldritch Lust Page 42