Escape the Island of Eldritch Lust

by Amanda Clover

  “So tight,” groans the drider. “Your womb is swallowing my cock!”

  Impossible! Alyssa’s slender abdomen stretches and deforms with each thrust from the drider. He fucks into her so forcefully that it seems he might punch his cock through her abdomen. Yet Alyssa only seems to moan louder with pleasure. The drider jerks her head back, leaning over her and menacing her slender neck with his bared fangs. The venom drips down her shoulder as her ass bounces against the arachnid body and her tits bounce and swing with each of the drider’s thrust.

  You fuck yourself with your two middle fingers, pumping them in and out of your pussy and gasping with pleasure as Alyssa seems to love taking the drider’s huge cock. You bite your lower lip and buck your hips. Your wet cunt clamps against your fingers as pleasure rises within you.

  “Ahhhhhh!” The drider throws back its head and its mandibles flex open. It furiously thrusts into Alyssa’s cunt, making her whole body shake.

  The succubus wails with pleasure of her own and cries, “Cum inside me! Fill me with your cum!”

  You gasp at your companion’s lewd pleading and pump the palm of your hand against your clit as you fuck your fingers in and out of your clutching pussy. Before you can quite reach your climax, the drider lets out a howl of pleasure that startles birds from nearby trees. Thick, milky-white cum drips down Alyssa’s thighs and spatters to the ground from her overflowing pussy. The drider thrusts into her with deep, deliberate strokes, pouring his cream into her demonic depths. A low moan passes Alyssa’s lips as her eyes nearly roll back in her head.

  “By the Queen of Webs,” moans the exhausted drider. He dismounts from Alyssa and staggers backwards as his cock slips from her pussy with a lewd slurp. More of his cum spills down her thighs and onto the ground. Her breasts shake with her excited breathing as she seems to struggle to catch her breath. The drider mutters, “Your cunt is cursed. The pleasure nearly killed me.”

  Alyssa lifts her head and the focus returns to her eyes. She smiles at you before looking at the drider over her shoulder.

  “Yeah, it did,” she says. “You have a delicious essence, Drizzen.”

  You slow your finger-fucking even though you have not cum. The drider is spent, but there is still fun to be had with your cum-spattered companion. She is as lovely as ever, now flushed and dripping with drider spunk, and she gives you a come-hither look.

  You slide off the log on which you were sitting and crawl, nude, on hands and knees over to Alyssa. The musk of the drider’s cum hangs in the air. It is bestial, but not entirely unpleasant. Your pussy stirs with desire and you find yourself looking over Alyssa’s body at the splashes of cum that cling to her hips, jiggle atop her plump buttocks, and coat her inner thighs and the folds of her pussy. The succubus, despite her demonic endurance, still seems to be catching her breath.

  “Are you going to help me clean up?” She asks, looking back over her shoulder at the mess the drider has made of her luscious body.

  “That’s… that’s a very naughty thought,” you say, already submitting to the idea. You smash your lips against Alyssa’s, her mouth yielding instantly to thrust of your tongue and her hot, sweet kiss seeming almost to swallow you up. You swirl your tongue against hers, delighting once more in the exhilarating touch of the succubus.

  Your kiss moves to her shoulder, along the curve of her side, and you find your first dollop of drider cum jiggling on her back. She watches over your shoulder and you meet her gaze as you run your tongue through the little puddle and lap up the nutty, sweet, saltiness of the drider’s milky white seed.

  “Oooh, you’re as naughty as I hoped,” moans Alyssa, arching her back and inviting you to further explorations. Your tongue follows the soft swell of her hips, cleaning stray drops, moving to hot cleavage of her buttocks and tracing the thick musk of monstrous sex that clings to her freshly-used cunt and cum-glazed ass. She gasps with lust, lowering her head to the ground and presenting herself for your tongue.

  You spread her ass and admire her in the leaf-dappled sunlight that spills through the trees. Your tongue slides over each mound of her buttock, cleaning up the traces of cum as you move lower. You descend down the hot trench of her crack, feeling her anus clench beneath your tongue as you move lower, to the raunchy, freshly-fucked creampie of her pussy. You thrust your tongue into the dripping folds of her cunt and suck at the buttery nectar that drips out.

  “Oh, Penelope,” she whines with pleasure. “Lick it all out. Rub my little clit too, please. Ooohhh… just like that… your fingers and tongue together… incredible!”

  She bounces her pussy against your tongue, spreading her folds with each thrust backwards on the thrusting, squirming wedge of your tongue. You drink the nutty-sweet ooze of cum from her pussy and reach between your thighs with one hand to fuck yourself towards an intense orgasm.

  You cum as you are sucking the last cum from Alyssa’s shuddering cunt. You whine with pleasure against her pussy and lick up every drip that has trickled down her thighs. The taste and smell of drider cum has slowly been replaced by the sweet flow of Alyssa’s honey-sweet juices. Her ever-steaming cunt throbs around your probing fingers as she cums hard. You do not relent until she practically collapses beneath you, squirming her hips and shuddering with aftershocks of ecstasy.

  “That was even better than his cock,” she declares, rolling over onto her back. You wipe her juices from her chin and lean down to share a long, slippery kiss.

  “I would spend all day licking your sweet quim, if I could, Alyssa,” you say, kissing her shoulder and pressing your naked body against hers.

  “Someday, perhaps,” she says, pulling you tight. The embrace does not last long. The drider stirs and looms behind you and you decide that you had best be on your way. Alyssa conjures her clothing from smoke in an instant, but you must pull on every garment and shoulder your pack. By the time you are finished, the drider if tapping his arachnid claws impatiently as if eager to see you both leave.

  “I thought you would want us to stay,” observes Alyssa.

  “You have damaged my trap,” he says, indicating where you cut down Alyssa with your heated sword. “I have much work to do to repair it.”

  “If we meet again,” you say. “Let us meet as friends.”

  “I do not think I will forget this creature,” says the drider, indicating Alyssa.

  “Few do,” laughs the succubus and you set off with her, arm-in-arm, along the path to the Dead City. You share a glance with her and laugh about the naughty outcome of that potentially deadly encounter with the drider. Perhaps having a succubus as your traveling companion will be more fun than you thought.

  “Disgusting,” your mother’s voice intrudes. “I do not even want to know the specifics of what you and that temptress did with that blasphemous creature.”

  “Your smile has faded,” says Alyssa, touching your face. “Why do you suddenly look worried?”

  “I am uncertain of the welcome that awaits us in Rhilath,” you say honestly.

  Your mother grumbles within your mind, but says nothing else.

  Ahead, you see the path leading out of the darkness of the forest and becoming a paved road through an open field. The sinister towers of Rhilath rise in the hazy distance.

  You are almost there…

  CONTINUE >

  Wait

  Marabelle isn’t armed, but her confidence is unnerving. You decide it’s better to wait and see what she intends. As you carefully edge around her, the heavy-breasted seductress watches you with a wry smile. You tense, waiting for her to make her move.

  You hear a loud clank from above. Too late, you realize you’d been too focused on the woman! The cabling of the machine falls from the ceiling, slithering about your arms like metallic tentacles. You scream, struggling against it, but it’s no use. One hose wraps about your arm, jerking it over your head. Another grasps your waist, lifting you easily off your feet and dangling you helplessly in the air. More fall, and in moments you’re comp
letely bound by the hoses of the vast machine.

  Marabelle laughs as she strides across the room. She moves her hand, violet magic crackling from her fingers. The cables move, hoisting you across the room and into one of the stalls. You struggle but with little success. Though the hoses have some give, it’s not enough to free you, and merely mires you deeper in their draping grasp.

  “Silly girl. Cows need no clothes.”

  You suck in a startled breath as Marabelle reaches up and casually tears away your shirt. Your breasts pop free, dangling from your chest. You try to reach for a weapon but with equal ease Marabelle divests you of your belt, tossing your pistols and blade aside. You groan with despair, realizing you have just lost your best chance for escape.

  Next come your pants, and as she yanks your panties off your struggling legs she delivers a sharp slap to your thigh.

  You yelp and jerk in surprise, breasts wobbling from the movement. Your face burns with shame as you hang there, utterly naked, helpless before the sorceress. If your sister could see you now...

  The air of the barn is warm and humid, but you shiver at the way Marabelle scrutinizes your body. She has an eye like a farmer at market, examining the stock. “Very nice, dear girl,” she says. Her hands expertly run across your smooth skin, feeling the plumpness of your thighs, her fingers digging into the ample flesh of your bum. You squirm but she pays it little mind as she pats your thigh affectionately before moving about before you.

  “Now that we have you more suitably attired, let’s resume.” Marabelle hefts one of her breasts, her fingers sinking into the expansive flesh. She gives a gentle squeeze and milk beads her nipples. “Drink.”

  Like hell! You shut your mouth firmly, glowering at her. She may have you trussed up like a hog, but you know if you drink her poison it shall be the end. Marabelle sighs and shakes her head but without any real exasperation.

  “My dear. No one likes a moody cow.” She twitches a finger, and another spark of magic snaps through the air.

  Then you hear a low mechanical whirring. You glance back over your shoulder and your eyes widen in horror. One of the piston arms loaded with a cock is slowly descending towards your naked cunt. You strain against the cables but it’s useless. You feel the rubbery tip of the fucking machine brush your quivering folds.

  Marabelle meets your eye, grins, and twitches a finger.

  The cock abruptly rams into you. You’re jerked forward by the impact, eyes shooting wide and mouth opening to cry out, but are never given the chance. The second your mouth opens Marabelle fills it with her breast, her tit flesh enveloping your face. She squeezes and warm milk spurts into your mouth. Instinctively you swallow.

  It takes less than a second for the milk to take effect. You moan with despair as you feel a warmth suffuse your body. Your struggles lessen as a dull haze fills your mind. Your eyes grow heavy and you don’t even notice when you begin to suckle willingly at her teat. Nor when you begin to move in answer to the mechanical cock as it saws into your hungry cunt.

  “There,” Marabelle coos, gently stroking your hair as you drink placidly. “That wasn’t so bad, my girl. Was it? Just relax and let my milk do its work.”

  You barely understand her. The pleasant warmth fills your head with puffy pink clouds as you calmly suckle. Thoughts of your mother and sister fade away and simpler desires take their place. As you drink, the warmth suffusing your body seems to gather in your breasts, growing hot but never uncomfortably so. You feel a weight on your chest steadily grow but your addled brain fails to make the connection.

  Eventually Marabelle removes her breast from your lips. Her nipple pops free and a trickle of milk dribbles from the corner of your mouth.

  “Mah…moooore,” you moan, panting as the faux cock rocks your body.

  “Later my girl. Later.”

  Marabelle crouches in front of you. You move your head to follow her and stare dazedly at your breasts. The memories feel insubstantial, but you feel sure your breasts were not nearly so large a short time ago. Now they hang heavily beneath you, a full two cup sizes heavier. Marabelle carefully examines them.

  “Mmm. Very good, my dear girl. Very good. I knew I was right about you. You’ll be the biggest of all my girls. And the most abundant.”

  She fills her hands with your breasts and carefully weighs them.

  “Ahhhh,” you moan, the merest touch to your hypersensitive flesh sending jolts of pleasure to your quivering core. “Moooore. P-please. Mooore.”

  Marabelle chuckles and pats your cheek. “Oh very well my pet. If you insist.”

  She feeds you her second breast. You don’t even hesitate as you latch onto her fat, milky nipple, suckling eagerly and shuddering with pleasure as her sweet cream fills you and the heat in your breasts grows. Your eyes drift shut as you fall into the hypnotic motions of the machine’s cock as it tenderly fucks you, and the haze of the milk drowns your thoughts into nothingness.

  CONTINUE >

  Threaten them to get the information

  “Oh, you like my breasts?” You ask, swinging them from side to side in your blouse. The mouse-sized men look up in awe at your swaying breasts.

  Only the old man dares to answer with a croak of, “Yes!”

  “Well then, perhaps I’ll just have to… SMOOSH YOU WITH THEM!” You let the soft weight of your breasts fall atop all four tiny men. They are smothered beneath your warm mounds as you press down, squeezing your tits against them and pressing the shrunken men into the bar top. You laugh as you feel them struggling to escape from beneath your breasts.

  “Please!” One of them gasps, sticking his head out from under your tits. “Please, you’re crushing us!”

  “Please, keep crushing us!” The old man gasps with a smile on his face.

  You lift your breasts just long enough for the four of them to stand up. As soon as they start to speak, you drop the weight of your breasts again.

  “You are going to tell me about this goat’s weakness or I am going to crush the life out of the four of you underneath my breasts!”

  “Yes, yes!” The bartender cries, flailing his arms and trying to pull himself from beneath your huge mounds. “We’ll tell you everything! Just stop!”

  You give them one last good squeeze with your soft breasts and you lift your weight off the counter. Three of the men get back on their feet. The old man remains on his back, smiling up with a glistening splotch on his tiny pink penis. Ew. Looks like he had a bit too much fun under your tits.

  “Alright,” you say, checking your blouse for a tiny smudge of cum. “Start talking. How do I fight this goat?”

  You heft your breasts in your hands, lifting them until they are nearly bursting from your blouse. The threat is obvious: fail to comply and you will let your breasts bounce down and crush them all. On this scale, the weight of your mounds will probably squish them like bugs.

  “Talk. Now!” You growl.

  “Please, yes,” says the bartender, holding his hands up as if they could shield him from the crushing weight of your tits. “The goat will… he gets into your head. When you get near him he will say things and it will be hard to resist him. Women can resist better than men, b-but when you’re in the temple you will want to kneel.”

  “And if you kneel, he’ll put his mark on you,” says one of the other men. “And you’ll become one of his brides forever.”

  “The crown,” croaks the old man, finally sitting up. “It’s the crown. He was just a man once too. A demon gave him the crown and when he put it on he turned into the goat.”

  “That’s not true!” The other men begin to shout objections to what the old man is saying. “That never happened, you old lush!”

  “It was before our time!” The old man shouts. “Mark my words, his power lies in that crown. Keep your wits, my comely goddess, wait for just the right opportunity, and you can snatch the crown off his head. Without it, he will be powerless.”

  The other men continue to object, but the old man i
s unmoved. He looks up at you as if he is in love with you. The adoring expression on his face makes you smile. You slowly release your breasts and allow them to settle back into place.

  “You have been very helpful,” you tell the men. “Farewell.”

  The other men start pleading with you to change them back. The old man limps to the edge of the bar and cries out, “Wait! Take me with you!”

  You stop and turn back to him. You lean your face down so that it looms over the tiny figure.

  “I dare not take you with me,” you say. “But…”

  You hook your fingers into the neckline of your blouse and under the cups of your bra and quickly pull both down, causing your creamy mounds and fat nipples to practically burst free. You hear a tiny cry of pleasure as you settle your heavy tits on the edge of the bar. The old man takes a running leap at them, nearly bouncing off of your soft breasts and trying to burrow between your tits.

  “Ah! Don’t climb between them,” you warm him, carefully pinching his legs in your hand.

  “No, of course not, there’s just so much of them! So beautiful! You are the real goddess!” He presses his whole body against your nipple, bending it with his weight as he clings to your pale pink areola. You feel wetness and he gasps and staggers away from your breasts. A tiny smudge of glistening spunk decorates your pink nipple. He looks up timidly, “S-sorry.”

  “It’s alright,” you giggle and shoo him away with your hand. “Don’t do anything dangerous. You’ll turn back into normal size before long.”

  You pull your bra and blouse back into place, blow the tiny old man a kiss, and leave the tavern. Armed with the theory that you should wait for the right opportunity and take the crown from the goat’s head, you march along the small town’s main road, following it up the nearby hill and into a dark and dense forest. Your pulse quickens and you can feel the evil of the goat and his temple lurking ahead of you.