Escape the Island of Eldritch Lust

by Amanda Clover

  “Visit any time, herald,” he says and he gives you a crooked smile.

  You set off across the rocky open ground and the dead forest in the distance.

  CONTINUE >

  Wait

  Any sudden move in front of this massive, goat-headed patriarch seems likely to get you killed. You take a slow step back as he rises from his throne. Gods, he is immense! Twice as tall as any man you’ve ever seen.

  Your heart pounds in your chest, but you resist the urge to turn and run as the horned goat approaches, stepping over the naked women on the floor, his huge cock swinging between his furry legs. You try not to let that fleshy swaying hypnotize you. It is almost impossible not to think about how the goat’s massive member would feel pressed against your body. How it would smell with your face nuzzled against his pink shaft. No! You must not think of such things!

  “Worship me,” his maddening voice murmurs in your head.

  “No,” you mutter through clenched teeth, your voice barely audible.

  He leans over you, his eyes boring into you as he speaks aloud in a voice that makes your thighs quiver, “Worship me, little one.”

  “No!” You cry, almost in agony from your desire to obey him. You open your eyes and gaze defiantly up at him. The crown perched between his horns seems to twinkle with malevolence.

  “Mmmmm, strong-willed,” he says aloud. “You need encouragement.”

  His huge hands seize you under your arms and he lifts you up off the floor with ease.

  “Ahhh!” You cry, kicking your legs as he lifts you up over his head. He ignores your kicking legs and thrusts his furry muzzle under your skirt. His nose presses against your panties and you gasp as he sniffs loudly. You double over his head, grabbing his horns as he gives the gusset of your panties a lick with his big tongue. Your face bumps against the crown on his head. His tongue curls inside your panties, rasping over your slick slit. “No, ahhhh! Stop that!”

  His laughter vibrates into your pussy as he gives you another lick. You know that soon the pleasure of his warm, wet tongue slithering all over your cunt will overwhelm the last shreds of your willpower. Your eyes are drawn back to the crown, glinting in the shaft of sunlight breaking through the damaged roof of the temple. It pulses with unholy light that traces strange, swirling runes around the golden band.

  You seize it in your hands and try to lift it off his head. It budges, but only a little. The goat reacts as if you have just grabbed his bollocks and tried to twist them off his body.

  “RRaaaaaa what are you doing!?” He tries to pull you away from his head, but you have your knees and thighs pinned against his snout and you are holding onto the crown for dear life. He roars, shaking your body like a cannon shot. “LET GO OF THAT!”

  But you do not let go and his grip tightens painfully on your body. He begins to pull so hard it feels as if you are going to rip in half. The crown tilts on his head. He pulls harder and roars with bestial fury. The crown pulls loose like a tooth leaving its socket and you and the crown fall to the ground on your back. The impact knocks the breath out of you and the crown rolls loose from your hands. It disappears into the dark chapel.

  “NnooOooooooo!” The goat cries, in apparent agony.

  You lift your head and look at the horned god of this unholy church. He is withering before your eyes, his horns disappearing and his arms and legs shriveling up like dried beef. His skin darkens to black and his fur falls from his body in clumps. His snout withers to a pair of droopy lips and a human nose. The most dramatic transformation of all is the loss of his glorious cock. The giant appendage blackens, drops off his body and disintegrates to ash, leaving behind a shrunken member no bigger than acorn.

  The wailing giant, now only a small man, drops to his knees and clutches at the absence of his manhood. He whimpers and falls to the side, doubling up and sobbing. You feel no pity for him. This magic tyrant has enslaved and tortured generations of women in this temple.

  “Get her!” He screeches, tears streaming down the raisin of his face. “Get her! And bring me my crown! Where is my crown!?”

  The brides ignore his desperate commands. They blink and look at you and at each other. They see the horror of their predicament and anger twists their faces. They turn their fury on the shriveled goat. They crowd around him.

  “No! Stay back!” He screams.

  You can no longer see him for the press of women around him. Their arms swing and their legs kick and before long the shriveled goat’s screaming stops.

  You gather up your pack and your weapons and leave it yourself. There is nothing more you can do for these women and you have to keep searching for your family.

  A path leads out from the temple and winds down the hillside towards the entrance to a foreboding cave. As you approach it, a foul, vegetable stench assaults your nostrils. Slime glistens on the stone near the entrance.

  Under any other circumstances, you would not enter. Under these circumstances, you have no choice. You light a candle from your pack and set off into the cave.

  CONTINUE >

  Wait

  These two beautiful creatures don’t seem to mean you any harm. In fact, they seem very, very friendly.

  “I suppose I could stay a bit longer,” you say. They both giggle and embrace you, pressing their leaking tits against your half-opened bodice and your sap-smeared left breast. More of the sweet-smelling liquid begins to soak into your bodice and trickle down your bare breast and abdomen.

  “Give us a kiss,” says the girl on your left.

  One kiss won’t hurt, you reason. She wraps a hand around the back of your head and pulls you to her lips. Her kiss is wet and sweet and her sap-covered tongue pushes into your mouth. There is a vegetable sweetness to the liquid, like a delicious carrot or maybe an apple. Her tongue swirls in your mouth, seemingly less agile than your own tongue, but pushing great quantities of her slimy liquid into your mouth.

  Much of her strange nectar flows out of your mouth and down your chin, drizzling your already-slicked breasts. You swallow some of it and at once you understand the appeal. It is a feel almost like they few times you have taken wine or spirits with a meal. Your face flushes and a comforting warmth spreads through your body.

  “Mmmmmmmm,” you moan against the plant girl’s lips.

  As you kiss her, you find yourself slipping deeper and deeper into a haze of lust. You cannot bear to break the kiss as your tongue invades her mouth and seeks out more of that sweet syrup that flows across her tongue. The other girl finishes removing your bodice and blouse and discards them on the ground. She reaches both hands around to your breasts and kneads your soft mounds with her surprisingly strong hands.

  The plant girl kissing you finally breaks the kiss and several sticky strands of her syrup connect her lips to yours for a moment. She looks at you with her blank eyes, but a lusty smile on her lips. She cradles her own breasts with her hands and gently squeezes, expressing drops of nectar that lengthen into strands before falling to the ground.

  “Taste me,” she moans and squeezes harder, causing several streams to spurt out from her nipples. The glistening liquid splashes against your breasts and adds a fresh coating of the sweet-smelling fluid.

  You have already tasted the plant girl’s sweet sap and you crave more. You open your mouth wide and catch some of the streams on your tongue. Much of it falls out of your mouth, but you swallow more and more until your mouth reaches her breast and you clamp your lips around one nipple. You suck greedily and press a hand between her stark white thighs. Her pussy is soft and slick beneath your fingers. You pump two fingers into her channel, feeling much more of her sap flowing over your fingers. Her body is cool to the touch, even as her inner walls squeeze against your pumping fingers. You drink greedily, gulping more and more from her nipples, becoming more and more frenzied as the other plant girl relieves you of your weapons and takes down your skirt and panties.

  You slip your fingers out of the plant girl’s pussy and taste
the sweet sap on your fingers.

  “Oh, it’s even more delicious,” you moan. “I need more.”

  “Of course,” giggles the plant girl, parting her thighs. “Have as much as you would like.”

  You cannot resist the sight of her syrup-spilling cunt and you fall to your knees before her. Your hands caress her smooth hips and her outer thighs. You press your face between those lovely thighs, breathing deeply of her sweet scent. Your tongue grazes her dewy furrow and she gasps with pleasure. Each lick sends more of her syrup sliding into your mouth and down your throat. You thrust your tongue deep inside her tight channel and slurp lewdly at her dripping cunt.

  As you pleasure the plant girl, her sister steps behind you and begins to caress your bare bottom. She gives you wet kisses and licks of her slimy tongue on your buttocks. Her face presses lower and she laps at your steamy slit.

  It only takes a few licks to make you cum. You reach back, pulling her face tightly against your plump backside as you arch your back and rock against her tongue. The pleasure seems enhanced a hundredfold by licking and sucking at her sister’s oozing quim. You moan against those syrupy folds and drink the nectar of the plant girl’s juicy peach.

  Behind you, the other plant girl works diligently to make you cum. She succeeds beyond your wildest fantasies. You cum again and again on her fingers and tongue and smear your human honey all over the plant girl’s face as you slurp greedily at her sister. They embrace you together and your limbs intertwine with their supple plant flesh. They writhe and squirm against you and smear their plentiful syrup all over your body until you are gasping with lust and finger-fucking yourself uncontrollably.

  “I’m exhausted,” you cry. “But I want more.”

  The plant girls giggle, “You want to see our mother. She will help you rest.”

  “Your mother?” You gasp, wiping your nectar-smeared lips on the back of your hand. The two plant girls indicate the nearby open pod. It seemed slightly ominous before. Now it seems inviting and even comfortable.

  “You should rest inside her pod,” the two plant girls say. 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 clam-shell slowly closes around you and everything is dark. You are so warm in the darkness. So very warm and happy.

  CONTINUE >

  Tell me how you made your way across the island

  Your own perilous journey across Ctharne has you wondering how your sister made it to the mansion.

  "What happened to you when you arrived here?" You ask Kara. "How did you make your way across the island?"

  "Mmmmmm," she says, nodding as she finishes chewing a bite of rabbit. She gestures with the rabbit's greasy leg bone as she elaborates. "It wasn't easy. I hired my way onto a rum freighter and stole a launch in the dead of night. The seas were calm and still it was a struggle to row it here. I dealt with gertlings almost straight away, twisted and more hideous than usual, and something like a groill if its hair was burned away. It was big and strong, but my pistols put it down."

  Her voice becomes quieter as she continues, "There was... there was a harpy woman. I've fought their kind before, nasty bitches, but this one was different. She was like a bat crossed with a woman, her skin was smooth and glossy, like polished black leather, but she had a pale face and leather wings instead of feathers. And her bite... it made me all weak."

  "It sounds like a Nygaunt," you say. "Much more dangerous than a harpy."

  "She carried me to her nest and she used me in ways I'd rather not talk about." Kara tosses the rabbit bone into the fire. "I even started to enjoy it. But she pushed me too far and I got the better of her. Didn't kill her, mind you, but I got my weapons back and escaped. Made my way down from the nest and into a cavern. That place was inhabited by the biggest protean I've ever seen."

  "I ran into her myself," you say. "Did she take mother's form?"

  "Yes! That jelly bitch!" Kara punches her first into her other palm. It's good to see some of her fire returning. "Did you use a lye bomb? I got her with a lye bomb and burned a path out of there. Nothing I could do for the poor people trapped inside her."

  "I got them out," you say. "Although there isn't anywhere safe for them on this island unless we can do something about that Great One. So what happened after the protean?"

  "The garden," she says and shakes her head. "I should have found a way around it, but that damned beast had returned and started chasing me again, so I ran inside. It was one trap after another. I nearly got gobbled up by a particularly nasty pitcher nymph and that bee queen tried to use me as an incubator. But I made it out and made it into that manor. I thought I was safe in there..."

  Here words trail off. She doesn't seem to want to talk about the doppelganger. Maybe she is embarrassed that she succumbed to the creature's trap.

  She stares into the fire for a long time, squeezing and playing with her lips with her fingers. She suddenly looks up at you. "Was that all, Penny? Was there something else?"

  What do you want to know?

  Tell me how the doppelganger captured you

  Tell me what you know about mother's fate

  Tell me what you know about the great one

  Enough questions, we had better continue our journey

  The valley

  You reason that the valley is the safer option. Something has been following you since you left the beach and you might be able to lose it down there in the mists. You take off down the hill, picking up speed with each step. The dense whiteness of the mist rushes up to meet you and envelops you in its embrace. You keep running, letting your momentum carry you through the nearly white-out conditions in the fog, heedless and only finally slowing due to exhaustion.

  You stop for a moment to catch your breath, breasts heaving and sweat dripping from your face. You look about. The feeling of pursuit has faded, meaning the creature has either lost your trail or fears the valley and what lurks within.

  Neither point really warrants you lingering. Once you recover, you set off again. As you move slowly among the wisps of mist something catches your eye. There is something shining on the road before you. You venture curiously forward and crouch for a better look.

  It’s a golden ring, lying on the road. It’s surprisingly wide. Nearly large enough to fit around your own shapely waist and be worn like a belt. You pick it up and turn it over in your hands.

  As you first surmised, it is indeed gold. And real if you’re to be any judge. A treasure such as this would be worth a fortune. Your thumb feels soft indentations in the metal, and you recognize the shape as deliberate rather than mere random scratching. Marks, but too faint for you to discern with the naked eye.

  It really is a rather fascinating piece of metal. You continue to turn it over, marveling at it. You wonder if you could put it on. A silly thought. But one oddly fascinating…

  You hear a gentle ringing of a bell.

  You whip about and take a quick step back, and suck in a breath. A figure looms before you. She has the upper body of a woman, with faintly red-tinted skin. Her arms are draped by golden rings and her waist by a thin silver chain. Her elfin ears hold large golden rings studded with diamonds and her eyes are like bull's-eyes; a pupil ringed by darkness and filled with a fearsome intensity. Pert breasts without nipples conform to her chest, but it’s what is beneath which arrests your gaze: the woman’s shapely hips meld together, coursing downward into the coils of a scarlet-scaled serpent’s body.

  You face a lamia. Your book had many studies upon the serpe
nt women. Fearsome foes in combat, but their true menace was in their near human intellect coupled with the monster’s savage cunning and poisonous fangs.

  “Oh, thank you,” the woman purrs, her voice sibilant and smooth like honey, the tones making you shiver with desire. She smiles revealing long fangs, and her pupils are dark slits against gold. “I see you found my bracelet. I’m ssso careless with my toyssss.”

  “S-sorry,” you say. “Your eyes…”

  “Mmm. Lovely, aren’t they?” The sinuous voice sends another thrill down your back. Every note seems to slide into your ears like a lurid tongue. You stare at the lamia’s pupils, slits against gold. Their darkness. “Lovely. And deep. Shall you look deeper, little one? Just let the world slide away.”

  You find yourself staring into those golden orbs, meeting the prick of the pupils, which seem to grow larger. Deeper. They seem to expand, sucking you into a soft darkness. You hear her voice, reverberating like a physical force in your head.

  “Poor thing,” the lamia purrs. “All alone and wanted. Oh how they must want you. The males of this isle. Want to breed your pretty womb with their bastard sons. Stuff your pretty belly with their eggs. You are lucky Ssseratus found you. I don’t want to do that, sssweet one. Ssseratus wants something…different.

  “You need not return the ring,” the lamia purrs, her voice echoing in your thoughts. “In fact, why not try it on?”

  The abrupt memory of Marabelle smiling over a mug of creamy milk thrusts itself upon you. You wrench away your gaze and gasp like a drowning woman struggling back to the surface. Your mind clears and you recall a footnote in your book, a small thing found in a leather-bound volume written by a mystic of Jan.

  According to that ancient mystic, some lamias possess a hypnotic stare.