Escape the Island of Eldritch Lust

by Amanda Clover

You are waiting for Premble on your hands and knees when he returns. You lower your head and raise your plump bottom. You spread your soft buttocks and show him the pink of your little asshole.

  "There, my love," you say, tapping a finger against the tight divot of your anus. "Smear the cream there and... oooohhh. Gently now, my love."

  He eagerly slops the cream into your crack with his clumsy fingers. You moan at the throbbing warmth that soaks through your skin and into your tender pucker. You look back at him over your shoulder and see Premble with his face only inches from your ass, the tip of his tongue pinched into the corner of his mouth in concentration as he swirls his fat fingers around your ass.

  "Push a finger inside," you moan. "Gently now... ooohhh. You've never been up my ass before, my love. You have to be more careful. But this... ooohhh... this cream is magical. It will help... ohhhhh, it feels so good."

  His finger plunges in and out of your cream-slicked asshole, driving into you with as much pleasure as if he were finger-fucking your pussy. You moan and lift your head, watching your ogre lover massaging his finger into your hole.

  "Fuck me," you whimper. "Fuck me with your big ogre cock, Premble."

  "Yes! I fuck pretty pink butt!" He rises on his knees, steadies himself with a hand on your buttocks, and guides his huge, dripping dick to your cream-smeared hole.

  "OoooHHHHH!" You wail as his cock sinks into your tiny asshole. The cream imparts pleasure and flexibility to your tight ring and it stretches around Premble's huge cock. You still warn him, "Slowwww."

  He goes as slow as he can stand. He sinks his cock into, inch by inch, until your tight ass is stuffed with throbbing ogre fuckmeat. The truth is, the cream and that big cock are driving you wild. You want him to fuck you hard and fast, like he does when he is in full rut, but you are smart enough to bite your lip and let him take things slowly.

  He works his cock out and pushes it back in again. He thrusts faster and faster until his hips are slapping against your soft buttocks. His cock fills you completely. It is so wonderful that you feel pleasure rising towards an orgasm without even touching your clit. Your tits swing beneath you, loosing droplets of milk into the straw with each thrust from your ogre lover.

  "Oh, Premble," you moan. "Oh, it's so good! I can't... I'm going to..."

  "AAAAAARGGGH!" Roars the ogre, thrusting hard and deep and firing his cum into your ass. The first spurt of his hot seed drives you over the edge. It is a powerful orgasm, like a deep vaginal orgasm, but inside your ass. Your stretched ring squeezes Premble's spurting fuck-pillar, milking his misshapen meat for every drop of his hot cum.

  His thrusts slow and your pleasure recedes. His cock leaves your creamy ass and you feel his spunk dripping from your well-fucked hole. He laughs and rocks back onto his haunches. You embrace him and kiss him, playing with his oversized ears and feeling his cum dripping out.

  "My sweet human," he moans, holding you in his arms.

  "My big ogre," you giggle, kissing his lips.

  You love Premble. You think it might be more than just the magic of the island. Even as you smile and kiss your lover, you can't help but faintly wonder what happened to your mother and your sister. Are they still alive? Did the Great One arise?

  You lay your head on Premble's chest and listen to the beating of his heart. This is where you belong. Your adventure is definitely at an end.

  BAD END

  << START OVER | < SKIP PROLOGUE | INDEX

  Stab the goat’s cock with the sharp bone

  Your will rises up to resist the oppressive weight of the goat’s will on your mind. You lift your gaze from the debris-strewn floor of the temple to the filthy beast-cock dangling in front of your face. The sight of the massive manhood, dripping with musky gleet, fills you with anger. Your fingers curl around the femur bone on the floor. Your jaw clenches.

  “I know it is irresistible,” says the smug voice of the goat in your mind. “Go ahead, little huntress. Show me your obedience.”

  “Of course,” you say, looking up with an angry grin. “It would be my…PLEASURE!”

  You lash out with the jagged piece of femur, driving it straight into the towering goat’s urethra. The knife-sharp bone pierces the meat of the huge beast’s cock and you keep pushing, driving your fist and then your arm past the elbow into its fleshy cock. Black blood pours out in a steaming torrent, covering your arm and breasts and even your thighs.

  A note of agony sounds in your head, as deafening as a church bell being rung with you inside it. Your vision almost cuts out and you double over in pain. All of the so-called brides must be feeling the same thing. They grab their heads and roll around in pain on the filthy floor. The goat staggers back and falls into his throne so hard it tips over backwards. His hoofed feet kick into the air and there is another explosion of black blood that sprays the nearest women.

  You clamber to your feet and search the dreary darkness for your belongings. You see them, even your pistols, arranged on a table not far from the entrance to the inner chapel. You stagger over, your head still reverberating with that scream, and you pick up your sword. The goat is still alive as you approach him. His animal eyes roll wildly in his head and reaches feebly for you.

  “Bitch,” he gurgles.

  His chest, abdomen, and legs are covered in sticky black blood. You draw your sword from its sheath and swing at his muscular neck with all of your strength. You may not be a skilled swordswoman, but the kirana is weighted for a decapitating strike and the blade has been honed by Kara to a razor’s edge. It parts the flesh and bone of the goat’s neck and severs his monstrous head. There is sudden black rush of smoke and the goat’s body withers to that of a tiny charred man. The strange crown sits undamaged on the throne.

  You pick it up the crown and feel the evil within it beckoning you. The golden design is decorated with a strange language that seems to predate any you have seen before. These are the words of the old gods. It is their magic that transformed a man into this monstrous goat. You wrap the crown in a soiled shirt and stuff it deep into your pack. You do not have a purpose for it, but you dare not leave it for one of these women to put on their heads.

  The women in the chapel are beginning to stir. Some of them are sobbing as they realize the horror they have endured. Others stare blankly at the light breaking through the holes in the roof. You dress in your spare clothes and climb atop the overturned throne to address them.

  “Return to the town on the other side of the forest,” you say. “You may find relatives there and you will surely find shelter. I will send more help for you if there is any to be found.”

  Most of the women stare at you or mutter with confusion, but a few seem to be picking themselves up and making ready to leave this accursed place. 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

  Lamias are fast, deadly, and sometimes resistant to magic. Or was that echidnas, the more human-like half-snake creatures? Damn it, you can’t remember what you transcribed into the codex and there is no chance to look now.

  The lamia senses your hesitation, hissing and moving around you in a slow circle. You turn to keep facing her, careful to look away from those maddening eyes. Her movements are seductive, her lithe body both horrifying and beautiful. You do not even realize she has been winding her coiled lower body around you until she suddenly cinches her muscular tail around you.

  “Ah!” You cry, watching the coils wrap around your legs, squeeze up to your thighs, and bind your hip
s past your belt. You look back at the lamia’s face and make the mistake of staring right into her eyes. Everything seems to slow down and the world around you seems to grow dimmer. You stare at those pulsing slits of pupils, widening and narrowing in a silent rhythm, the gold around them glittering like your mother’s eyes. You moan, “Your tricks won’t work on me.”

  It is a pitiful lie. She leans forward and plucks the weapons from your hands. You feel your other pistol leave your belt from beneath her coils. Your backpack slips from her shoulders and dimly you see her dumping its contents onto the ground.

  “Curious,” she giggles, before turning her full attention back to you. “I know you want to be a good girl for me now.”

  “No,” you gasp.

  She leans her face close to yours and her tongue flicks out of her mouth and tickles against your lips. Her eyes are so close they are like two yawning portals before your eyes. They seem to show the way to eternity. You see yourself standing with the lamia on a sun-warmed beach. The monstrous snake woman pats your head affectionately.

  “Are you going to be a ssssweet, good girl?” She hisses the question, one of her hands cradling and caressing your face.

  “Y-yes,” you stammer. “Yes. A sweet. Good. Girl.”

  “Yesssss, you are,” she chuckles softly. “You want to sssssserve Sssseratus.”

  Seratus. That must be her name. Your mistress’s name. It’s beautiful.

  “Yes,” you whimper, feeling your fears of the lamia evaporate into the white mists that surround you. “Yes, mistress. Let me… serve you.”

  She chuckles again, her long-fingered hand squeezing your face as she teases her tongue against your lips. You sigh with desire and she presses her cool lips to yours for a moment. Your whole body shudders with desire for the lamia.

  “I had hoped you might be a bit tougher.” Her lips brush against yours as she speaks. “A warrior worth having as a husband. You are timid. A little mouse. But then I tipped out your pack and I see something different. A clever girl, with books and potions. You are a witch?”

  “A huntress,” you whimper. “M-monster huntress.”

  “Oh, my, you hunt monssssssterssss? How delightful.” She slips a hand beneath her coils and you gasp as her fingers press under your skirt and begin to massage your hot slit. “You have found a monster. What do you want to do with me?”

  “Serve you,” you moan. “Please you.”

  “Would you like to ssssserve me,” one long finger slips past your cuntlips and slides deep into your steamy pussy, “as my husband?”

  “Anything,” you cry, shaking with pleasure and trying to move your hips within the binding coils of her tail. “What must I do?”

  Her laughter sends another shudder through your body. Her finger lips out of your soaking cunt and her coils loosen. She slithers away from you and you feel strangely sad to no longer be bound up in the comforting strength of her tail.

  “Undresssss,” she hisses as she slithers slowly around you. “Ssssshow me your warm body.”

  Your hands tremble with excitement as you take down your skirt and peel off your jacket and blouse. You hear a murmur of pleasure as you free your plump and creamy breasts from your tight underwear. Another sound of approval comes from the lamia as you wriggle out of your panties and finally stand before her completely naked. Despite the warmth in the humid air, you have gooseflesh on your arms and legs and your body is quivering.

  “A lovely human,” she giggles, winding her coils once more about your lower legs. Her hands trace the contours of your hips, ride smoothly over your arms, and gently lift and squeeze your breasts. She plays curiously with your nipples, perhaps reminded that her own breasts lack them. You feel momentarily ashamed of your fat pink nipples. Do they displease her? She pinches them softly and pleasure jolts through your body. She giggles and rolls your nipples between fingers and thumbs. You have to embrace her to keep from tipping over with desire.

  “S-sorry, mistress,” you whimper, realizing you are touching Seratus without her permission.

  “Are you ready to give up your womanhood and become my husband?” Her tongue flicks against your breasts as her hand moves lower. She kisses your soft mound and her fingers ride against the soft groove of your cunt. You jerk your hips, pushing your pussy eagerly against her touch.

  “Anything, mistress,” you moan.

  Her fingers leave you and she rises majestically. You look into her eyes as you hear the pop of a cork. She presses the lip of a potion against your mouth. “Drink, sweet thing. Drink deep.”

  Eagerly you do. The taste is horrid but you must take it all. You swallow in long gulps as the lamia gently tips it. When the last drop is gone, she discards the bottle and tenderly strokes your face. Your skin feels so tender. You shake at her merest touch as you feel to potion gather deep in your belly like a hard weight. Then deeper still.

  “The others upon this land would use your warmth my dear,” the lamia murmurs. “You would inevitably fall to them. The accursed one deeper in the valley would have used you to carry her young. But she cannot understand the joy of having her own. A thing denied to me ssso long.”

  It’s so unfair for her. You feel a swift anger at the one she speaks of. Then you feel the warmth in your stomach radiate into your quivering quim. You gasp as you feel a pressure there. Shuddering, you begin to struggle, only for the lamia to speak again, soothing nothings which calm you at once.

  “Close your eyes.”

  You do.

  “You see my eyes still, don’t you?”

  “Yessss,” you moan.

  “They will always be with you my dear one. Always you will see them. Even when I am not here. You love looking into my eyes. Falling deeper. Giving up control.”

  “Yes.”

  Her tongue tickles at your collarbone. Her hands gently squeeze your breasts before moving lower. You quiver and stare at that golden light of her eyes in your closed eyes. Her hands are on your cunt, massaging you there, seeming to draw at the pressure building within you. Her kisses moves down over your belly. The tip of her tail is wriggling between your buttocks, flicking at your clenching hole.

  “Ohhhhh,” you moan, unable to keep silent.

  “It feels wonderful, doesssssn’t it?” Seratus hisses and flicks her tongue against your thighs. Her hands seems to be drawing your pussy out into a bulge of pleasure. Her tongue touches the bulge and you cry out. Her lips press against it. Against its tip. Her mouth is suddenly around you, engulfing you, wet and cool as her tongue wraps around your… shaft?

  You open your eyes in surprise and see the lamia slowly bobbing her mouth against a penis – your penis – quite large and wonderfully swollen. Those golden eyes open and look up at you as she slides the sucking pleasure of her mouth up and down on your cock. She pops her lips free and licks at the tip of your newly made cock as you struggle to understand the transformation.

  “Control.” The snake woman’s cool hand massages your shaft. “You do not need control. I will control you. You must only love me. Love me, my husband. Love me.”

  “L-love you,” you moan, forgetting all other thoughts as she resumes sucking your hardness. The sensation is exquisite and you no longer care what has become of your pussy or how long you might have a cock. You love her. The beautiful lamia’s mouth draws you closer and closer to a strange, throbbing pleasure, almost as if your clit has swollen to many times its previous size. You jerk your hips, trying to thrust deeper into her mouth, but she controls your cock with her soft hand wrapped tightly around the base.

  “Mmmmmmmm,” her voice vibrates around you.

  The sensation is too much. Your pleasure suddenly rises to a crescendo and you feel shocking spasms of ecstasy. Something, some liquid, is shooting out of your body. The lamia’s eyes narrow as you spurt this fluid into her mouth. She takes her lips from your cock and her hand works up and down your crimson shaft as creamy cum pours out and drips against her chin. Strands of white spill down to her bre
asts. You feel ashamed of soiling her in such a manner, but as her tongue flicks beneath your throbbing tip, you cannot resist the ecstasy of the moment.

  “What a naughty husband,” she giggles. “You’ve wasted it. But I’m certain you sssssome more.”

  Your hardness flags for only a moment before you feel the press of her tail at your anus. It slides inside you and her mouth descends once more onto your cock. You brace yourself with your hands on Seratus as she quickly draws your manhood back to twitchingly eager attention.

  Satisfied with your hardness, she rises above you, revealing a slick slit at the junction of her hips and her serpentine lower body. You understand your purpose at once and your new manhood jerks with anticipation.

  The lamia holds forth the golden ring. “Come my husband,” she purrs. “Don your ring.”

  Reverently you take it. You note a thin golden chain now runs to the lamia’s hand, but give it no more mind. With an awesome feeling, you fit the collar around your neck. At once the gold band tightens until it fits snugly about your throat.

  The lamia, your mistress, smiles, and tugs your leash. “Now come,” she purrs, brushing her long nails across the scaled slit of her quim. “Give your wife her young.”

  Rapturously you move forward. She leans back, pulling you by the chain until you straddle her. You grasp your cock, gently stroking it until it hardens. You never look away from the goddess before you. Her golden scales and gleaming bangles. Her ringed eyes which command you. You are already achingly erect and glistening with her saliva. You move forward and slide into her.

  Your mistress gasps, then rumbles happily. Bliss threatens to overwhelm you and you at once begin moving inside of her. Thrusting into her welcoming cunt. Her inner walls tremble and suck at your fuckstick. Your breasts, immense as ever, bounce with every thrust. Your new grown balls throb with your mistress’s seed.

  “So close. Mistress. My love,” you gasp.

  “You have spilled your sssssed in pleasure once,” Seratus scolds. “You will not cum again until I ssssay so.”