“Now what would they say,” you breathe, breasts straining your gown as you stretch out your arms, drawing him towards you. “That the king’s messenger and admiral is staying with the comely new baroness? My,” you purr, fingers undoing the front of his pants. “How dull.”
“I agree,” Orsen says huskily as he hikes up your skirt, running his hand along your thighs. “We best give them something far more interesting.” He grins yet more as his fingers find the warmth of your naked pussy. “Oh my naughty baroness. No underwear?”
You grin, pulling him against the cushion of your breasts. “Do you really think I’ve been chaste all this while?”
“No.” His lips are inches from yours. “Never.”
You kiss, long and hard. He bends you atop the table and you draw out his cock. He slides inside of you. You gasp, moaning as he tenderly begins to fuck you. Your dress whispers as he opens it and sucks on your nipples. Your hands unbutton his shirt and claw at his chest.
“Ah, my lady,” Orsen gasps.
“Orsen,” you murmur. “Orsen.”
The candles burn low as he fucks you. The document forgotten. The night deep and the howls of monsters wailing over the tall walls you have built. You, Kara and your mother will have much to do in the coming days, but for that night you melt against your lover’s touch. Your adventure as the Baroness Helsdottir have just begun, but as Penny, it finally ends.
THE END
<< START OVER | < SKIP PROLOGUE | INDEX
In the court of the demoness
The wet slap of flesh against flesh fill the dusky darkness. You thrust against your lover, his cock filling your ass.
There is a gentle knock on the door.
“What?” you gasp.
“Forgive me my lady. But Mother wishes your presence.”
“Mistress!” Without an ounce of regret you shove your lover off of you. He falls to the floor with a whimper but you’ve already forgotten him. Your ass still gaping from his cock, you dress quickly and open the door.
Altalla stands outside, demure and quiet. He has the best of both his parents in him. His skin has a slightly copper sheen like he was a statue of picturesque masculinity, his eyes glowing a dull sulfurous red. He wears a dark robe over his shoulders, but otherwise is utterly naked. His cock is bound in a finely wrought cage, and you know it wraps about into a faux buzzer in his ass, one which keeps him in a constant state of arousal.
You’re not surprised to see him here. Though Alyssa gave her and Gallatha’s son to the demon queen Melia, Alyssa has summoned most of her followers to the Red Court for a grand announcement. You feel a moment’s sympathy for the forsaken child of your mistress, but it is his fate and that of the others birthed by Gallatha to be traded by your mistress. She is the queen.
You follow Altalla through the winding halls of your mistress’s palace. The walls rise high and are wide for the many denizens who have since flocked to her banner. Silken tapestries drape the walls, their scarlet colors seeming to glow, washing the passage with a sultry red. A gift from the spidery mistress of webs after Alyssa’s conquest of the Hollow Hills. You smile to yourself. Finally, Alyssa truly has a palace of crimson silk.
A strip of said silk hangs from your groin, swishing with your every step. Your breasts are capped with small golden disks, held in place through some strange adhesive. You are utterly naked besides these. Though Alyssa would lovingly drape you in gold and silver, you prefer this. For perhaps, if you do, she will consent to finally bless you with what you truly desire.
You enter Alyssa’s great hall and follow Altalla across the floor and to the throne. Her whole court is present today. Demons of every stripe fill the balconies and crowd the pillars. The room seems to stretch into eternity. You look about, surprised at so many. It must be an important occasion indeed.
You catch sight of the Hopper. The hideous, toad-like demon squats nearby, two of Gallatha’s silver skinned daughters leashed to his hands. The pair are worshipping their master’s bulbous, warty cock. In another corner, a xalliv oozes across the floor, and in still another, the Iron Lord smokes from his black steel like some monstrous steam driven knight.
Altalla parts ways with you when he sees his mistress. Melia stands imperiously by the wall, a number of human slaves bent beneath the weight of her throne. Terrible and beautiful, the Amazonian demoness wears her crown of horns with pride, not even deigning to look down as Altalla comes before her throne, kneeling and kissing her hooves in grateful worship.
You pass by the Hopper, who eyes you with interest. His silver wives try to entrance you with a writhing dance, and for a moment you are tempted. Then you see Alyssa.
She sits atop her throne at the end of the hall. Naked, flawless crimson skin faintly glowing, she is terrible in her beauty and power. Her throne is made of the petrified souls off her mortal lovers, a mass of frozen agony and ecstasy. Her fiery crown blazes between her horns and her crimson eyes look out upon her decadent court. She rules here, and it speaks in the lift of her chin and casual way she lies, recumbent upon her throne.
You’re enraptured by the sight of her. Her swollen breasts as big as your head. Her perfect thighs and radiant skin. The Crimson Queen. The Great Seductress. You ignore the plaintive moaning of the silver women, who the Hopper pulls back to himself when he sees you pass, relaxing under their pleasured ministrations.
But they are nothing. You feel Alyssa’s attention settle on you as you cross the floor. You pass through the crowd and climb to the smaller throne of black stone and steel beside your mistress’s. Primly, you sit down.
Once you are settled Alyssa stands. The room falls silent, a wave of her power passing through the air to pull their attention.
“My friends,” the succubus says, her voice echoing sonorously through the room. “I am so glad you could join me today, for I have a grand announcement to make. As you know, the Hopper has won me a great victory in the pits recently. Ending a rebellion of the wreethlings that grub for my precious jewels.”
All eyes turned on the bloated demon, who inflates his throat with pride and tugs more insistently his silver skinned concubines against him.
“He has long been a worthy ally,” Alyssa says, her eyes glowing like the deepest pits of hell’s forges. Her smile so wicked you catch your breath and shudder with desire. “And so I have decided on his gift. That of fucking my most precious whore.”
She gestures, and hooded figure seems to manifest from the shadows. They move slowly towards the toad-like demon, who settles on his haunches, watching with interest. Finally, the figure pauses, and sheds their robe in a single motion.
A great murmur rises from the demonic throng at the sight of Gallatha. Alyssa has chosen for the once radiant being to be a woman this day. Her skin is flawless and pristine, though dimmed to a burnished dross. Her whorish nipples are pierced by bars and just above the crack of her ass is Alyssa’s brand. A jeweled choker rests about Gallatha’s neck, and her white eyes are lowered in demure submission.
You can practically feel the host of the hells lean towards this softly glowing figure. Lust and hate you can barely comprehend a tenth of moves the monstrous court, drawing them to even a fallen member of the divine orders. The Hopper’s eyes are fierce and greedy. He clutches the leashes of his concubines against him, forgetting the half breed brood when their mother stands before him.
Alyssa grins, and you know the claim of a reward for the toadying demon is but a part of it. She has taken countless delights in the humiliation and degradation of Gallatha. Impregnating the divine figure again and again and selling the resultant children for favors and rewards. From the power of her slave, she has built an empire which rivals the Low Courts, and she relishes in it.
“Fuck her, my loyal subject,” Alyssa says with cruel delight. “Enjoy the voice of the goddess tonight before us. Make her scream. Enjoy your reward.”
Alyssa sits again and snaps her fingers. Like a spell were broken, Gallatha moves forward. Even f
allen she is a beauty. Her platinum hair falls to the small of her back and her body is perfectly shaped. There is something innocent in her, present even despite the cruelties visited on her flesh and soul, and you feel a pang of pity for the creature.
Then Gallatha is before the Hopper. She kneels demurely before the demon, and pressed herself against the pole of his cock.
The Hopper croaks, his eyes lidding as Gallatha strokes him between her modest breasts. Her tongue slides up his shaft, along the glans to the flared head. The Hopper eases back, and gives his leashes a tug. His two silver skinned slaves join their golden mother, and between the three of them, begin to worship the demon’s cock.
You’re so entranced by the sight, you don’t even notice the red strip of cloth slide from your groin. But when the curving talon presses against your cunt, you gasp. You follow the arm, gaze coming to rest on Alyssa. The demoness pays you little mind, enjoying the show even as she gently strokes your rapidly moistening folds.
“Watch,” Alyssa purrs.
You tear yourself from your mistress and fix your attention on the floor. The show has advanced. Gallatha now stands, straddling the Hopper’s cock, the girth of it between her legs and lifting her against the bloated belly of the toad-like demon. The Hopper croaks, leaning forward and devouring her mouth with his own, fairly taking her whole face between his lips. His hands take her breasts, toying with the bars which pierce them. He gives them a sudden violent twist, tearing a pained gasp from Gallatha.
“Yesss,” Alyssa hisses. Her finger moves faster against you, tenderly masturbating you. You grip the arms of your chair, forcing yourself to merely endure your mistress’s attentions. She would be displeased at otherwise. “Look at the fat fool,” Alyssa hisses. “I’ve destroyed that heavenly trollop’s cunt countless times and he treats it like the greatest reward. She’s birthed the very slaves that crawl at his feet. I’ve sold her children and she’s so far in my thrall she adores me for it.”
The tone of the room has changed. Alyssa’s growing lust radiates from her like a shimmer of heat. Demons have begun to enjoy their own pets and each other. You see the Iron Lord Mounting a mewling Fel Bitch. A succubus has wrapped herself about a serpentine lamia. You spot Altalla kneeling at the base of Malia’s throne, eating out the Amazonian demoness with every hint of devoted relish.
But like all the rest, their attentions inevitably return to Gallatha and the Hopper. She strokes him between her thighs, sawing against him with her heavenly cunt. The Hopper has practically bent over double, pressing her against his length as he devours her face, hungrily torturing her nipples. His concubines have fallen to one another’s embrace, twin flashes of silver writhing on the floor at the feet of their master and their mother.
Alyssa moves her finger from your cunt, trailing it up to your chin. You follow the touch, rising from your seat, guided to your mistress in her throne. Alyssa looks into your eyes. “Have you let another fuck your cunt, my sweet Penelope?”
You shudder at the way she says your name. Teasing and husky. “O-only you, mistress,” you breathe.
“I know. You failed me in the mortal realm Penelope. Tried to hold me back. So I’ve denied you my true gift. I’ve made you watch me seed Gallatha’s womb so many times now.” She leans forward from her throne, her breath, pungent with nameless spices and heavy scented lust. “Finally, it’s your turn.
“Mount me.”
Exultation chokes you. Tears prick your eyes. But then, dread fills your thoughts. Even as you straddle your mistress on her throne of the damned, you look down at the silver sisters writhing at the foot of their demonic king. Alyssa chuckles, resting her clawed hands on your curvaceous hips.
“Don’t worry Penelope,” Alyssa breathes. You turn back to her, trapped in her eyes once more. “Our children will be more than tokens. Sons and daughters of a demon queen and a huntress. The hells will tremble at their feet.” She grins in sudden savagery. “They’ll be rulers!”
“Yes,” you breathe, enraptured at her voice. Her face. “Yes mistress. Please. Take me.”
Alyssa chuckles. “So greedy.” She lifts you. The fat head of her cock presses against your silken folds. “I love it.”
She fills you in a single motion. You arch, gasping, breasts flung forward and golden caps flashing atop your nipples. You moan as inch after inch of Alyssa’s demon cock slides into your boiling channel. The heat of her arousal in nearly unbearable. Then, you come to rest on her lap, hilting the succubus within you.
Alyssa grins. “You’ve been preparing for me.”
“Y-yes mistress.”
“Good. You’ll need it.”
She begins to bounce you on her lap. You wail in pleasure, the blazing heat of her length filling you like a beacon of lust. Your mind shuts down but for the desperate animal need. Years of waiting. Of sitting enviously, watching as Gallatha swells with young again and again. Alyssa fucking you, mocking you with the knowledge she will not give you a child. Not yet.
And finally, the time has come. It’s almost more than you can bear.
The room rolls with sympathetic lust. Gallatha kneels on the ground, keening as the Hopper fucks her. Her own daughters hold her down as the demon’s powerful legs push him in like the shot of a piston. The floor is a shapeless mass of rolling bodies. Impossible positions of debauchery.
And above it, impaled like some figure head, you ride Alyssa’s cock. Your hair matted with sweat, your body seeming to glow. The demoness grins, baring her fanged teeth as she watches her court fall into a heaving mass of rabid fucking.
“Are you ready Penny?” Alyssa hisses.
“Mistress! Yes!”
“Then take it. Take my seed!”
Alyssa roars, arching a final time. You wail as her boiling seed rushes into your aching womb, filling you. A feel of completion, or perfect satiation fills you.
As you ride out the aftershocks, latching onto your mistress’s leaking nipple, tasting her as she bastes your insides with cum, you know that her seed has taken. That in time, you shall birth the first among her true heirs.
Your adventure in the mortal realm is done. But your time as the bride of the demoness has finally begun.
BAD END
<< START OVER | < SKIP PROLOGUE | INDEX
Turn and confront the beast pursuing you
You are tired of running from this creature! You are a huntress and being a huntress means confronting monsters, not staying just far enough ahead of them to avoid their slavering jaws. It seems to be right on your heels. Breathless and enraged, you turn suddenly, bracing for the impact of its deformed, wolf-like body.
And it’s gone.
There is no sign of it behind you, just the deserted, rubble strewn streets of this dead village. You back up slowly and draw a pistol and your kirana. You turn again and advance cautiously into the ruins of the town. Only the wind makes a nose, whistling softly over the broken walls that remain in the village. Your boots seem to crunch loudly on every stray rock and crackle every twig underfoot. Even your heart seems to thunder for any sign of the beast.
“Come on, you bastard,” you mutter through clenched teeth.
You see a flicker of movement out of the corner of your eye. The beast seems to step out from the corner of two standing walls. You shout, raise your pistol, and fire. The crack of the pistol is deafening and the acrid smoke blocks your view. You backpedal and as the wind takes the smoke you see… nothing. The beast is gone. One of the wooden shakes of the walls has been struck by your pistol shot, wan daylight showing through the hole.
You back up further and you collide with another standing wall. You are in what seems to be the L-shaped remains of the interior of a large home or factory. A crude brick wall is at your back and you have retreated to the corner it shares with a fire-blackened interior wooden wall.
As you stare at the spot where the brick wall and the burned interior wall form a right angle, you begin to sense the shape distorting as if a magnifying lens is
passing over reality. The right angle bulges and unfolds and the beast emerges, leaping from the nothingness into existence and landing heavily atop your body. You are knocked to the ground and pinned beneath it. The beast’s huge jaws snap only a finger’s width from your face, splattering you with hot saliva. Its human-like clawed hands pin your shoulders to the ground, but you can still move your arm holding your sword.
It snorts and exhales hot breath into your face. Its fury body pushes apart your legs and you feel something hot and stiff moving under your skirt and pressing against your thigh. With a snarl, it turns you roughly over, knocking the sword form your grasp. It tears up the back of your skirt as you cry out in surprise. It rips away your underwear and exposes the thatched furrow of your cunt and your tender ass. You try to push up on your hands and it shoves you back down, climbing its bestial weight atop your ass and pressing down on the backs of your shoulders as it drives your face into the ashy ground.
“No, gods, stop…” You cry, struggling beneath it.
The beast’s jaws snap. It snuffles its snout at the back of your neck, hot animal breath snorting over your ear and down the back of your bodice. You whimper as you feel the hot tip of its cock pressing against the back of your thighs. It thrusts its hips, the dripping cockhead rubbing over your folds, up almost to your anus, back down again, and prodding at your thighs. It is trying to find an entrance into your cunt.
Your heart pounds with fear and your face is hot with shame. To be mounted by such a beast! It seems like a cross between a mutated wolf and a man. Could even a creature such as this mate with you and impregnate you with the help of the island’s magic?
“Breed,” snarls the beast, the only word it has spoken.
You must fight it! You have another pistol in your belt, fully loaded. If only you could free your hand, you could fire the pistol at the creature at point blank range.
Escape the Island of Eldritch Lust Page 86