Escape the Island of Eldritch Lust

by Amanda Clover

  Her protean essence pours into your womb and joy overwhelms all other concerns. The sudden rush of pleasure and happiness triggers another orgasm, more profound than any that came before it, and you buck and squirm in the embrace of the protean.

  “Yes!” You cry again and again.

  Her cock does not stop for a moment. It seems to swell even more within you and her hot cum spurts into your womb. You are awash in her inhuman seed. You are rapturous at being bread as she fucks you continuously. When her cock finally leaves your flooded pussy with a lewd slurp, you are lost in a dreamy haze of ecstasy.

  “Thank you,” you moan.

  “No, thank you, huntress,” says the jade version of your mother. She leans over you, caresses your cheek, and kisses you sweetly on the lips. “You will be with me forever now. Right where you belong.”

  The jade version of your mother steps back and sinks down into the larger mass of the protean. The remaining slime girls carry you in their arms as they slide across the chamber and over to join the other women. The slime girls press their gelatinous bodies tightly against you. Their arms, legs, and breasts begin to touch and flow together. They lose their shapes and you are engulfed in the translucent green slime of the protean.

  Already, you feel the slime flowing into your freshly-fucked pussy and tightly-clenched asshole. Slime within the slime begins to squeeze and suckle at your breasts, pulling at your erect nipples in rhythmic pulses of pleasure. You lean your head back into the slime, moaning as you accept your new life with the protean.

  This, you realize, was always your destiny. To give yourself to a beautiful monster like the protean, to assist your sweet queen in bringing new life into this world.

  CONTINUE >

  Arrival in Estermar

  The port city is a ramshackle mass of leaning clinkered buildings and crooked docks and wharves. A maze of wood perched over dark waters, the jungle at its back and the sea at its front. The gates have an unwelcoming look to them, like the jaws of a great, toothy beast. The carriage lumbers through and soldiers with wide-brimmed hats dripping with rainwater watch you pass.

  The caravan drives slowly through the narrow streets, watched by a decidedly unsavory cast of characters from the balconies of tenements and the doorways of taverns. Drunken sailors slump against walls and rain-spattered whores offer their breasts through the opened windows of brothels to entice the caravan to stop. One caramel-skinned woman proffers her big bottom from a doorway, looking back and smacking her smooth rump invitingly. Bog chuckles at the sight. You feel your face growing hot.

  The outriders lead the way through the twisting streets and down from the modest heights to the ancient Heimsvak fort that protects the port. Soldiers meet the caravan and guide the wagons down to the dockyard where there is room for all ten wagons, along with the carriage, to assemble and begin unloading. You are right there by the moored ships. You marvel at the galleons with their huge sails and high masts, slowly bobbing in the tide, waiting to be filled with cargo.

  “My ship has already been hired,” says Bog, joining you on the bench. “Frugal Lady. The one with four masts there.”

  “That’s the biggest ship,” you exclaim.

  “Yes, and she has an icebreaker prow. I’m taking these goods to the east, to Jumenjin and Ishabbaria to trade for spice to take north to Yverwinter.” He looks at you as if you should understand the genius of this plan. “You see, they have no spice in Yverwinter. Only salt and fish. I will make a fortune selling them spices and cured beef, pork, and cowermander.”

  “You have things all figured out,” you say, looking uncertainly at the docks.

  “Oh, you won’t be able to book passage on any of these,” he says. “These are guild ships. Look out there, past them, at the furthest docks. You can find a fishing vessel or maybe a rogue cutter to take you where you need to go.”

  “I should just walk up to the boat and hire them?”

  “Oh, heavens no!” Bog laughs at your question. “That’s liable to get you bopped over your pretty head and dragged onto one of those ships to spend an unpleasantly long time as their cook. If you’re lucky. No, you’ll want to hire someone in one of the taverns.”

  You watch him dress in an oilskin raincoat that covers his balding head. You only have the jacket your sister sent you to keep the rain off your blouse. You don’t know which tavern to go to, you passed many of them on your way, and the denizens of this city seem far less civilized than the people you met on the streets of Akrane. Not likely to help you.

  Bog, perhaps seeing your distress, calms you with a hand on your shoulder.

  “You are a clever girl, you will do fine. Go up the hill, just beyond Fort Estermar, there’s a tavern called the Drowned Giant. You won’t be able to miss it on account of the giant. That’s a captain’s bar. No drunken sailors to spill their drinks and start fights, just the more civilized men who command these vessels you see moored out there.”

  You follow his gaze to the many ships slowly bobbing in the port.

  “Ask for Grel. He’s the bartender. He’ll point you in the right direction.”

  You embrace Bog. “Farewell. Thank you for everything.”

  “Thank you, young lady. I do not know that I would have enjoyed the journey so much without you to keep me company. May your journey be safe and your reunion with your family be a happy one.”

  You give him a parting kiss on the cheek and press your lips to his ear.

  “The book I carry with me is an encyclopedia of monsters,” you whisper. “Monsters are real, Bog. Never let down your guard completely.”

  He gives you a shocked look as you step out of the carriage and into the rain. The sky is darkening to evening and lanterns begin to shine behind windows and on the water-swept eaves. Your jacket is hot, but it’s the only thing keeping your blouse from turning transparent in all the rainwater.

  True to Bog’s suggestion, you easily find the Drowned Giant by the huge carved statue of a giant leaning on the roof of a two-story wooden building glowing with lantern light. Someone has thrown an old fishing net over the blue-painted figure so that he looks like debris hauled up from the deep. You step inside the tavern, glad to escape the rain and eager to leave this awful city and find your sister and mother.

  CONTINUE >

  Ask her to pleasure you with her tongue

  If you are to give yourself completely to this hungry demoness, you would enjoy the full pleasure of her talents.

  "Your tongue," you say, your face growing hot as you admit your lust to her. "Please, lick me, Alyssa. Lick me and... and... eat me."

  "Oh, yes, my darling," she chuckles, sliding her naked flesh against yours as she drags her breasts down your trembling body and kisses her way towards your aching quim. "I will eat you up, Penelope."

  Her lips burn with pleasure each time they touch your hitching abdomen, your hips, your thighs, and slowly work their way towards your mound. Her face is low and her ass is high behind her as she kneels between your parted, creamy legs and nuzzles closer and closer to your brown-tufted cunt. You reach down and run your fingers over the ridges of her curled horns and stroke her silky, lavender hair. She is the most beautiful creature you have ever seen and you are glad she will be your doom.

  "Do it," you gasp, thrusting your hips gently. "Take me, please."

  "Oh, of course," she giggles softly. She pushes your legs up, your knees raised and your feet hanging in the air as she exposed your cunt completely and even your clenched asshole.

  She attacks you with a sudden sexual ferocity that leaves you breathless. Her tongue plunges deep into your cunt, she sucks at your tender folds, and she flicks against the hard bud of your clit. Her fingers hold your thighs and spread your pussy open wider. Her tongue plunges far deeper than seems humanly possible, but of course Alyssa is not a human and her squirming tongue inside your clutching channel might reach all the way to your womb.

  "Ohhhh gods! Yes! YESSSS!" You arch beneath her, entirely at h
er tongue's mercy as you begin to cum after only a few seconds. Your entire body shakes with pleasure, your breasts heaving and your back bowing harder. Your cunt squeezes and ripples around her thrusting tongue and you feel something else, pleasure within pleasure, leaving your body with each orgasmic spasm and spurting invisibly into her sucking mouth.

  Your juices spill down from your cunt and trickle hotly over your clenching asshole. You thrust yourself at Alyssa's face, clinging to her silky hair and fucking against her tongue as it seems to reach down into your very soul. The pleasure of surrender, of being consumed, is one you might have never known without volunteering yourself to this fate. The ecstasy of your demise mingles inextricably with the sexual pleasure of her tongue wriggling inside you. Faint sparks of violet light swirl around Alyssa's head as she draws out more and more of your essence.

  You feel the your weakness through the pleasure. You see her growing strength in her violet eyes as she looks up from between your legs. It happens so quickly. Alyssa is all around you, embracing you as your soul detaches from the drained husk of your flesh and enters the eternity inside the demoness.

  You feel the last thudding of your shriveled heartbeat as if from a great distance.

  “Goodbye, sweet huntress,” whispers Alyssa. “This is not the end.”

  You are freed and reborn. You emerge with new eyes and new purpose from a pulsing violet heart within a strange cave. Alyssa and Kara are both there to greet you.

  “Your new life begins, my sweet Penelope,” she says, taking your hand. Lingerie wraps your ample curves. You feel a throbbing lust that surges at Alyssa’s touch. “You will serve my customers here in my brothel for all of eternity. You belong to me.”

  “Yes, mistress,” you say, smiling gladly. The thought of serving Alyssa and the customers is all that matters to you now. Your quest, the Great One, and your mother have all been forgotten.

  "Your sister will serve just as eagerly, won't you Kara?"

  Your sister smiles warmly and steps forward to take Alyssa's hand. The succubus guides her towards you.

  "Yes, mistress," coos Kara. You embrace your sister and kiss her with the desire of a lover.

  “Oh, Penny, it is so good to see you,” she says, her lingerie-wrapped body so lovely against your own.

  Alyssa embraces you both and says, “My lovely huntresses. You will serve me now and forever.”

  “Yes, mistress,” you and Kara joyfully cry.

  You and your sister have been consumed by the succubus. You are now, and will forever be, whores in the Palace of Crimson Silk.

  CONTINUE >

  Rebuke Zhibbareth for betraying your mother

  For the first time since becoming a bride of the Great One you feel anger. After all your mother has done for him, giving up everything she once stood for, bringing about Zhibbareth’s plan, and luring you to this island, he would dispose of her like refuse. Your anger is stronger than the sexual desire you feel for him as he pounds his writhing black cock into your stretched cunt. It is stronger even than the mother’s love you feel for him as the woman who birthed him back into existence.

  Your anger hardens and you gather your will and your magical power and push Zhibbareth away. Your resistance is so unexpected that he allows you to twist out of his grasp and slide his massive cock out of her stretched cunt. You whirl on him and stare up at the enormous evil eyes gazing down from Zhibbareth’s larger body. The humanoid form stands waiting, its erect cock still glistening with your juices.

  “You would toss my mother aside after she brought your plan to fruition? She was totally faithful to you, Zhibbareth, and now you prefer my cunt and—“

  Black tentacles shoot out of the humanoid body and wrap around your wrists, ankles, waist, and throat, constricting around each. You cannot speak – you can barely breathe – as the tentacles lift you up from the ground and pull you closer to the yawning pit. The tentacles yank your legs wide apart and bend your arms up over your head.

  “I am the progenitor of all monsters,” Zhibbareth’s voice booms in the chamber and in your head. It is loud enough to hurt in your bones. Blood runs from your ears and your nose. “You defy me, human bitch? You are only what I allow you to be. A cunt for me. A hole to plant a seed.”

  Tentacle spears into your pussy, your ass and into your mouth, wriggling down your throat. They fuck in and out of you roughly. It is nearly impossible to breathe as your throat bulges against the thrusting tentacles. More squirm into your ass and swell once they are inside you, causing your bowels to put pressure on the depths of your cunt. Thick, hot precum drips from your stretched holes and pours into your belly.

  “Look at you,” Zhibbareth’s voice mocks you in your mind. “So fragile. So weak. A wonder I do not dispose of all humans. Perhaps I will, one day.”

  The symbol on your mound pulses with light and sends shooting pain through your body, crackling like electricity along your channel. You are wracked with spasms almost like pleasure, but they burn through your muscles with each ripple of contractions. You can feel his tentacles penetrating you to your cervix, pushing past that innermost clench, and opening your womb wide.

  Zhibbareth lets out a booming roar of pleasure and his molten seed gushes into your womb. It flows heavily into your bowels and down your throat in sickening quantities. Black fluid pours out of all your holes, including your nostrils, bubbling out as you try to breathe.

  “Ohhhh, yes,” laughs Zhibbareth. “You still have your uses to me, foolish human.”

  Spurt after spurt of his seed boils into your womb and spills in a steady stream out of your ass, dripping down to the tiles far below. You feel his contempt. You open your eyes and his anger seems to glow in that enormous, red eye above you. Zhibbareth has always been a terrifying presence, but for the first time you understand the utter fear that nearly every other creature experiences when they enter his throne room. The tentacles pump his scalding seed down your gullet and into your womb and bowels and you know you are just a speck in the face of his power; nothing more than a bit of dirt for him to brush away.

  He drops you heavily to the ground and his tentacles leave you with lewd slurps. You vomit out his black seed and it gurgles out of your stretched cunt and your leaking ass. You try to push yourself up on your hands and knees and slip on all the cum. You lie there, gasping, despairing at the fate you have earned for yourself.

  “Leave me,” his voice thunders.

  You feel the absence of his favor and your strength ebbing away. Zhibbareth descends back into his pit and you manage to climb to your feet and stagger through the maze-like temple and to your private chamber. You collapse onto your bed as red-cloaked maids gather around you and whisper with concern. The mark on your mons has nearly disappeared. You are feverish and almost delirious as you twist and turn and pour sweat in your cum-smeared sheets.

  “What is happening to me?” You moan to the handmaids. They stay out of reach of your flailing limbs as you toss and turn.

  CONTINUE >

  Submit

  There is no point resisting your desire. You smile at Alyssa, the voluptuous succubus, and say, "I think I would like spending time with you very much."

  The bird-headed guards and gorgeous whores stand aside as Alyssa takes your hand and leads you from the parlor and through the curtains that cover the archway. The hall beyond is much darker, but you need only follow the firm buttocks of the lovely succubus and her flicking tail as she takes you deeper and deeper. The perfume of sweet spice and the musk of sex grows stronger. Your body aches to be touched and even Alyssa holding your hand is making your body swell with pleasure.

  "Here we are, my dear," she says, holding aside a shimmering curtain of crimson silk.

  Her bedchamber is decorated in pinks, peaches, reds, and hints of white, so that you feel as if you are already intimate with the lovely demoness. Her four poster bed is huge and covered in comfortable cushions and silk pillows. Tapestries depicting succubae engaged in all manner of dep
raved acts decorate the walls. Mirrors show you images of your disheveled state, a sorry contrast to the lovely perfection of the succubus.

  A whore sits in the shadows beside the bed, plucking a harp. The soft notes entangle with Alyssa's musical laughter. She flashes you a smile as she pulls you to the bed.

  "Oh, but you are all dressed," she laughs. "Let us do away with such unnecessary impediments as clothing!"

  Her own lingerie seems to melt away from her luscious body and dissolve into wisps of sweet-smelling smoke. Her creamy, faintly lavender-tinted skin is perfection, her plump breasts defying all sense of gravity to achieve the pertness of much smaller breasts. Her areolas are wide, her nipples thick and jutting, but so lightly lavender-colored that they seem almost to merge with the creamy flesh of her bosom. Her navel is jeweled with a violet gemstone and her quim, hairless but for a tiny tuft of lavender hair, reveals delicate petals of pale lavender flesh.

  Her tail curls around her thigh and winds down her legs. Her wings flex as if she is displaying them for you to admire her demonic perfection. And you do! Oh, you do. Your mouth salivates at the thought of her full-lipped kiss and your quim aches to be touched and to touch.

  "You're... you're so beautiful," you murmur, unable to restrain yourself.

  "Oh, why thank you, herald," she says.

  "Penny," you say. "Short for Penelope."