Escape the Island of Eldritch Lust

by Amanda Clover

  "What made this?" Kara wonders aloud.

  "Something big," you say, slowly approaching one of the holes. There is a faint and distant rumbling. Something is moving far beneath the earth. "Something we need to avoid. Perhaps we should go around this?"

  A brief glance negates that hope. The field of holes extends almost to the eastern and western horizons and on one side is bordered by sheer cliffs plunging into the ocean and the other an expanse of ominous black water. The only way forward is through this ominous terrain that stretches beneath a leaden sky.

  "We cross it," says Kara. "I won't slow you down."

  "We cross," you agree.

  You move between the holes, trying to keep as much distance as possible between you and them. Each time you pass the yawning darkness of one of the holes, you can hear rumbling and rasping that seems to grow louder. Near one hole you find the slime-covered bones of several animals pulverized so that you cannot identify whether they were human or something else. Beside another hole you discover a broken staff and a slime-covered medallion marked with a strange symbol.

  You gingerly lift the medallion and show it to Kara.

  "It is a symbol related to the Great One," she says. "I saw it in a fallen temple."

  "What do it mean?" You ask.

  Before you can answer, you the rumbling grows much louder and the ground begins to shake. With a rasping hiss, an enormous, pale yellow beast bursts from the nearest hole, showering dirt and bone fragments over you and your sister. It rears up twenty feet into the air with most of its length still in the tunnel. It is not a serpent at all, as you had imagined, but a giant, segmented worm. Its bristled head sports two enormous pincers that spread wide and reveal a glistening mouth lined with curved teeth and a gullet large enough to swallow a horse.

  "Wurllmek!" You cry, recognizing the creature from an almost identical illustration from the book of dead beasts, Negatus Monstrum. "They're supposed to be extinct!"

  "This doesn't look extinct!" Shouts Kara, drawing her sword.

  The creature seems to hesitate as it looms above you and your sister, as if it cannot decide which of you to devour first. These beasts have nearly indestructible shells and will eat anything organic, from wood to human beings. It is said to torment its slowly-digesting victims in a gut that runs the entire length of its body. It has a weak spot, but you cannot recall it.

  The Wurllmek's rows of tiny black eyes peer at you as its mandibles snap closed and open once more. Kara glances at you, her brow furrowed and her teeth bared. You are not used to her deferring to your leadership.

  What do you do?

  Wait

  Parley

  Attack

  Magic

  Surrender

  Wait

  You slowly lower your sword. You cannot just attack this woman – this thing – who looks so much like your sister. You sheath your blade, but keep your hand at the ready. You’re not going to make the first move.

  “It’s hard, isn’t it?” She teases, walking slowly closer. “I look just like her. I sound just like her.”

  She darts in and plucks a pistol from your belt.

  “Hey!” You say.

  She aims the pistol at you for a moment, sighting down the barrel, and then lowers her aim.

  “I think like her too, Penelope,” says the imposter, stuffing your pistol into the waist of her tight trousers. She prowls around you, circling you like a cat as you turn to keep your face to her. It doesn’t stop her from lashing out again and snatching your other pistol from your belt. She balances the pistol on her fingertip by the barrel. It’s a trick you have seen Kara peform. You try to snatch the gun back from her and she flips it up into the air, catches it behind her back, and stuffs it into her belt.

  “Stop doing that!” You cry.

  “These pistols are a neat thing,” she says. “I know how they work thanks to your sister, but I’ve never had the chance to fire one.”

  She aims at you again and you cringe, as if you would be able to shield yourself from the bullet. She laughs and stuffs her new pistol down the other side of her leather trousers. She begins to circle you once more and almost immediately seizes the sword from your belt. You grab her hands, but she twists her wrists and pulls away with your kirana in her grasp. She laughs and dances out of your reach, disappearing into the shadows.

  You turn and flee among the mirrors, your breasts tightly framed by the straps of your heavy backpack as you weave among the reflections. You begin to search the glass portals, seeking out the mirror where you had seen Kara before. Perhaps you could free her from it!

  “Kara?” You whisper. “Kara, can you her me?”

  Mirror after mirror contains your reflection and the grisly remains of some poor person who was trapped inside and apparently drained of all life force. You wonder how this imposter imprisons people like your sister in one of these mirrors. Is it some spell or are the mirrors magical?

  You see yourself reflected in another mirror, only this time there is no corpse slumped at the bottom. You stare into your reflection and try to search the strange darkness within the mirror for some clue to the mirror’s magical nature. Hands reach around you from behind and cradle your plump breasts through your bodice.

  “Oh!” You cry and twist out of their grasp. You whirl around to confront who is behind you and find yourself staring into an endless emptiness. Darkness has seemingly swallowed up the rest of the room. That veil of shadows ripples and a human-like shape manifests and presses against you. It wraps you up in a firm embrace and presses a kiss to your lips. You are so shocked by this sudden touch that you allow the kiss to continue for several seconds before you come to your senses. You push the shadow man away and shout, “Get off of me!”

  You manage to turn around again, but find yourself confronted with a mirror that no longer holds your reflection. The dark glass provides a view into the hall of mirrors faintly lit by candles. You are no longer in this room. Somehow, you have been draw into the mirror. You begin pounding on the glass.

  “Let me out! Kara! Kara, can you hear me?!” As you beat your fists in futility against the glass, you feel hands reaching around to your breasts once more. You look down at the shadowed hands cupping and grasping your breasts. You push the hands away and shout, “Do not touch me!”

  More hands reach out from the darkness all around you and begin to pluck at your clothing and your backpack. They take your pack from your shoulders and strip off your jacket. You wrestle with them as they grope at your breasts and reach under your skirt. Half a dozen hands pluck at your clothing. More reach out and strip your skirt down your trembling legs.

  “Nooo,” you moan as your blouse is unlaced and torn away. The shadowy hands rob you of even your underclothes. Shadows fingers assault your pussy, strumming at your slit and thrusting into your blushing cunt. More shadow hands begin to knead your breasts and pluck at your plump nipples. You moan with hopeless pleasure as they bring you down to your knees. A shadow cock emerges near your face and a hand guides your mouth to the rigid shaft. You whimper as you take it into your mouth. Behind you, hands spread your creamy buttocks and warm, wet tongues of shadow-stuff begin to pleasure your pussy and ass.

  Your first orgasm robs you of the last vestiges of your will to resist this formless attacker. Hands caress, squeeze, and explore every bit of your body. You moan around the shadow cock in your mouth and cry out in wanton lust as a second cock forms to thrust into your willing cunt.

  You cum twice as hard with this spectral fucktool punishing your pussy. You cry out in the hollow-aired darkness and ride atop a shadow cock as you suck another. A third shadow cock pushes into your freshly-tongued asshole and you ascend to new heights of ecstasy.

  Orgasm after orgasm ripples through your clutching cunt and squeezing ass. You are on top, then on your back, then on your hands and knees again. The pleasure is limitless and you are glad for that. You never want it to end.

  CONTINUE >

  Get f
ucked by the protean

  “Mmmmmm, nice,” you chuckle, slowly stroking the protean’s fat cock. “I hope you know how to use this.”

  “Why, of course I do, Penelope.” The protean begins to giggle and the giggling spreads to another slime girl rising behind you. You gasp as gooey hands lift you up and support you beneath your knees and under your buttocks. You look over your shoulder and see a newly-formed translucent version of your mother is lifting you up. She winks her eye at you.

  The opaque protean slime girl steps between your spread thighs and guides the huge head of her cock to your tender entrance. She teases the fat tip up and down your nearly-virginal slit, spreading your nectar all over her green cockhead. A warm, throbbing desire fills your body. You are almost aching to be fucked as you watch her slap the tip of her cock against your clit. It sends fresh jolts of pleasure through your body.

  “Are you going to tease me,” you gasp, “or fuck me with that?”

  “Oooh, you need it bad, don’t you, little one? Very well, I will give you what you need.”

  You whine with desire and bite your lip to keep from screaming as the huge, glistening tip of the protean’s cock begins to spread your delicate folds. Even the protean’s cock contains stinging cells and as it begins to slide into your steamy pussy, a fresh wave of heat and desire comes over you. The nervous gasp forming on your lips becomes a long moan of pure pleasure. This is what you have been craving your whole life. A huge monster cock to fill your little human pussy.

  “Yesssss,” you whine. “Yes! Fuck mmmmeeeee!”

  The protean’s cock thrusts into you to the hilt. You can feel it stretching against your cervix, pushing at your womb as if it might slip inside your inner sanctum and claim you completely. A part of you is terrified of this prospect, but the protean’s cock feels far too good for you to beg her to stop.

  Begging is all you would be able to do. You are already being held aloft by an apparently four-armed version of your mother and another slime girl approaches you from behind and reaches around to fondle your breasts and pinch at your nipples. Her translucent fingers engulf your nipples and the soft slime begins to gently suck at your fat buds. Each pulse of suction sends another hot thrill through your body.

  You turn your head to look at her over your shoulder and her lips are waiting to meet yours. You submit to the kiss and her sweet, tickling tongue pushes into your mouth. While the opaque protean pounds her huge cock into your slick pussy, her two translucent helpers are fondling and kissing you to keep you distracted.

  Your orgasm is inevitable and powerful. Your pussy clutches tightly against the protean’s thrusting cock. She moans, “Yes, cum for me, Penelope! Squeeze me with your muscles. Pour your sweet nectar into my flesh.”

  Her thrusting cock does not slow, even as you squeeze hard against her shaft and bulging tip. Your plump breasts bounce in the slimy grasp of one slime girl. The other reaches into your crack with squirming fingers and plays with your clenching anus.

  “It’s so good!” You cry, surprised by a second orgasm that is shorter but even more pronounced than the first. You arch in her grasp and thrust your pussy against the protean’s cock. The jade monster girl leans against you, her huge breasts swinging with each stroke and slapping against your sweat-damp mounds.

  “My seed boils for you,” she moans. “Your hot womb is eager for my little ones. I want you to… have them. To take them all.”

  “What?” You gasp, not full comprehending her through the haze of pleasure.

  “You are ripe and ready for my seed,” moans the protean. “You need it inside you.”

  You realize what she intends. You are fairly certain a human and a protean cannot mate and reproduce, but being filled with her slime might be enough to activate the curse of the island. Can you risk such a thing? Do you even care if those are the consequences?

  What do you do?

  Tell her to cum inside you

  Beg her to pull out

  You want her cum in your ass

  Parley

  This is not some unreasoning monster you are facing down. This is a human woman, seemingly, and just because she has sinister intentions does not mean she can’t be reasoned with.

  “Wait,” you cry out, holding up your hands.

  Marabelle pauses, the bound girl still nuzzling the witch’s fingers. “Yes?”

  “Maybe…maybe we can make a deal.”

  Marabelle quirks an eyebrow.

  “A deal, my dear? What an amusing idea.” She takes her hand from the girl’s face, and you shudder as the bound blonde moans and quakes, like an addict denied their fix. Marabelle taps her fingers against her lips. “How very curious. Yes…Yes, I think there is something you could help me with.”

  You tense a little. “What?”

  An enigmatic smile teases her lips. She turns, beckoning you to follow with a crooked finger. Hesitantly, you do.

  You leave the stalls and their moaning charges behind, to your immense relief, and come to a door. Marabelle opens it. Clearly she needn’t worry about locks, and recalling the moaning women in their straps, you can’t really fault that.

  Through the door is a vast room. Glass glitters like stars in the forms of bottles which line the shelves and tubes which spiral over tables and from flasks perched above burners. The air is ladened with the smell of herbs like those in the kitchen. The scent seems heavier, muskier, and after a moment you place it: the noxious air which hangs over the isle is mingling with the herbs.

  But what arrests your attention more than anything is the immense tub in the middle of the room.

  The tub is pearly white like it was molded from cream. It’s deep, and perches atop four legs carved to look like lion’s feet. You examine the tub with a wary interest, but quickly look back to Marabelle as she approaches one of the tables. She fetches something and turns, revealing two syringes filled with a greenish substance.

  “My masterwork,” she purrs. “Something which would never have been possible without the coming of the Great One and his power. Think of it like a… temporary but quite dramatic boost to a woman’s lactation.”

  You tense immediately but Marabelle merely laughs. “Oh, fear not my dear. It’s not the same as that which I’ve been instilling on my dear girls in the milkers. No. Theirs is a more prolonged, natural change.”

  “There is nothing natural going on in that room,” you rebuff.

  Marabelle shrugs as if your opinion were irrelevant. She holds up a syringe to the light, the green liquid sparkling within its glass cylinder.

  “Regardless, this, my dear, is a mere activator. It will cause a brief but powerful lactation in any it is used upon. Quite devilishly clever, you will admit. I intend to receive as much yield from my girls as possible.” She takes a step closer. “You, my dear, will be my test subject.”

  “Why not test it on them?” You ask warily.

  Marabelle’s lids rise slightly, showcasing a startling blue of placid serenity. “Because you, my dear. Your bloodline. I did not jest when I said I knew your sort. Your body is well adapted to such a change. The others within…not so much. I have tried. Once. The result was…” She grimaces. “Messy.”

  You match her expression and glance back at the tub. “You want-“

  “A sample, dear. That’s all. It would be most useful to me.”

  You finger your pistol in its holster and eye the needles tentatively. You know you shouldn’t. Every ounce of logic screams against trusting this woman.

  And yet. And yet…

  You can’t explain it. Perhaps it’s a lingering effect from the milk you drank in the kitchen, or your intellectual curiosity, or a blending of the two. But you want to do it. Your quim warms and moistens with the memory of the women in the barn and your skin tingles with desire, arousal burning in your veins and pooling deep in your belly.

  It’s for the best you reason. You doubt you could take her in a fight. You’re too inexperienced. Better to risk this than assaulting
her directly. Her confidence…well, it’s unnerving. This may be your best chance.

  This is what you say to yourself, and you know it’s partly right. But not all. Oh no. Not all...

  “Alright,” you say. “I’ll do it.”

  Another lazy smile curls Marabelle’s lips. “Good my dear. Now, come over to the tub, and remove your shirt.”

  You do so quickly, not wanting to take your eyes off her for long. Your nipples tingle as they are exposed to the warm air of the barn and Marabelle’s eyes light up at the sight of them. Still smiling, she approaches and pierces your breast with the needle.

  You gasp at the sharp pain but she has already pushed down the plunger. A sudden ache fills your chest, and distracted by this, you fail to act as Marabelle stabs your second breast.

  You step back and stagger. A powerful ache throbs from your breasts. You grab them, and then, to your horror, they begin to grow.

  “What-“ you stammer as your titflesh rapidly expands in your hands.

  “Quick my dear. To the tub!”

  You stagger towards the tub. The swelling weight of your chest nearly overbalances you. You’re easily as large as the biggest of the women in the milking room, and still growing! What’s more, the ache has grown to an acute feeling of pressure. One increasing with every second. As your arms droop beneath the weight of your expanding breasts you hear something slosh within them and feel them shift like balloons of water. Before you can ponder this you’ve reached the tub. Gratefully you collapse before it, draping your breasts on the rims.

  Still you grow. Your hand filling breasts have distended beyond size. They fill your arms, the areola the size of coins and the nubs of your nipples big as a thumb. Veins swell around the darkening flesh, and you groan with the pain of it.