“Gaze on my form,” Janine breathes, running her hands down her hourglass shape. “I am among the first birthed by our master’s coming. I am the culmination of what he wishes. Monstrous broods brought into the world by humanity. An end to the stagnation of that mortal race.”
You cannot tear your eyes from her. You suddenly sniff, inhaling a deep, musky scent which saturates the room in a heavy musk. The braziers! You shoot a glance towards them and see another cowled figure sprinkle herbs onto the purple flames. Wisps of smoke impregnate the air with a sickly sweet scent. You find your skin warming and breathe in deeply.
The room has begun to swim. Janine’s voice is a soothing drone. She has begun to sway and you watch her, enraptured. Her voice wraps about you, seeping into you until you cannot tell what is her voice and not.
“Yes,” Janine purrs. “Feel it. You have come before the master. Now, who shall be first to pay him homage?”
She cups her hands about the mark which brands the flushed pink flesh of her pelvis. There is a sigh through the room, and a woman in the rich silks of nobility steps forward. She kneels before Janine and tenderly kisses the mark. Janine smiles with satisfaction. “Join them,” she purrs.
The acolyte rises and goes among the crowd. She is drawn in by eager hands. Clothes whisper as they are shed, and the woman is pulled into the embrace of one of the men.
You find yourself caught in the debased ritual. You and Kara move down the line and towards Janine. Men and woman kneel before her and kiss her brand, then join the rest in the growing mass of writhing bodies and panting lips on the floor. The slap of flesh. The moans. The sounds hammer at your resistance. You struggle to remain yourself.
Kara has gone forward.
You stagger after your sister. She seems entranced, staring at Janine with eyes dim. Two red spots mar her cheeks. She staggers towards the priestess of the foul coven.
You push forward, and catch at your sister with a gasp. You pull her down to her knees. She falls helplessly with you, her head lolling. You wrap your arms about her, holding her close. “Kara,” you hiss. “Kara!”
You feel a gaze upon you. You raise your head.
Janine looks down. She has crossed the room and stands before you both. Wisps of smoke caress her, twining like ghostly serpents. She exudes sex. She breathes. In and out. Slowly. Your eyes are riveted to the movements of her pleasure flushed breasts. She smiles, her pupils wide and dark. Behind her the shapes of men and women writhe in shadowy ardor. The minotaurs have descended among them, the horned creatures’ isles of solid flesh as their manhood is worshipped by eager acolytes.
“Show your devotion,” Janine breathes, and cups the pulsing mark upon her mons.
What do you do?
Flee this den of depravity!
Kiss the cultist's brand
Attack
You grab your sword and tear it from its sheathe.
“Ha!” the centaur cackles. “Sprightly be the fair filly? Good! The greater the challenge, the more satisfying the triumph!”
He braces himself, circling you with a clip clop of hooves. The grass around your feet stirs with a sound like whispering voices. The ground shifts. You jerk aside as roots erupt from where you had been standing a moment before. The centaur cackles and raises his arms. The forest around you seems to come alive. Every limb rustles its leaves and roots struggle from the earth. Vines writhe, a sound like a thousand clashing blades fill the clearing as the leaves clash under the monster’s malefic will.
You draw your pistol and fire.
The centaur screams, rearing and pawing at the air with his front hooves. The trees hush in shocked silence. You seize the chance. You dash forward, blade held low, and as the centaur comes back down, your blade meets him.
Steel sprouts from his back. The centaur gasps, looking down at the hilt buried in his chest. Green ichor bleeds down the elaborate handle of your curving blade.
“Ah…” the centaur gasps, one hand resting on the hilt as if to assure him it is there. “Well…played…”
He topples, your blade sliding free as he falls to the forest floor. The forest around you seems to settle, drawing back almost pensively. Then stills, once more no more alive than any other woods in more settled lands.
You stare at the bulky corpse of the centaur with disgust, and turn away. Kara remains slumped in the tree, though the vines no longer seek to undress her or slide beneath her clothes. You hack her down with your kirana, catching her as she falls.
Kara grunts as she collapses in your arms, shaking her head. “Penny?”
“He’s dead,” you say. “Are you alright?”
“Feel…dirty…”
You sniff her and grimace at the globs of sickening sap which cling to her skin. You carefully set her down and fetch from a pocket a rag.
As you begin to clean her, Kara lets out a soft moan. You pause, flushing faintly, then get back to it. Your sister gasps, subtly writhing as you work.
“P-Penny.”
“Yes?”
“That feels…good…”
You bite your lower lip. “W-well, should be done. Soon…”
Kara doesn’t answer aside from a faint gasp as you scrub a particular dollop off her thigh.
Your sister is considerably hot and bothered as you finish and stand, helping Kara to her feet.
Cleaned of the strange fluids, your sister begins to recover. She presses a hand to her brow and shakes her head to clear it. She glances at the corpse of the centaur, giving a subtle double-take at the wound in its chest. You feel a faint trill of pride as she glances at the blade you hold, the metal still slick with the monster’s greenish blood.
You take a moment to clean the blade, then thrust it into its sheathe. “Come on,” you say as you look to the horizon, past the tops of the twisted trees and to the mountain peak, where the clouds clutch the ragged peak in a slow-moving spiral. A quaver enters your voice as you add, “We’re almost there.”
Kara nods, and you cannot describe your gratitude when she takes your hand and squeezes it gently. Thus, hand in hand, you leave the clearing behind, and advance towards the fallen city.
And where the end of your adventure awaits.
CONTINUE >
The new order of huntresses
The pine boughs are spread softly beneath you and Alyssa as you lie prone and watch through the overhanging branches. In the clearing below the rise where you are hidden, one of your young trainees is beginning her first test against a monster.
Elizabet is young, slender, and beautiful, but with a hard look to her face owing to a background of violence perpetrated against her family. She came to you from a nearby village and has become one of your fastest learners. Still, it has barely been a year for her. You are not certain she is ready. The succubus beside you seems to think the young blonde has hidden talents.
“Here he comes,” whispers Alyssa.
The swarx emerges into the clearing, his bulky body rippling beneath the lustrous black fur that covers him. He is bearlike in his size and physique, with a hairless face and a trunk like snout rather than the jaws of a bear. His black eyes gleam with intelligence. This swarx was born over a decade earlier when you arrived with the surviving handmaidens. He was raised by them and partially-trained so he would not prey upon nearby villages. He may look like a bear, but he is more intelligent than many humans and even knows a bit of magic thanks to you and Alyssa.
“Come on then,” shouts Elizabet, whirling her staff. “Show me what you’ve got!”
The swarx trumpets and roars, revealing his tusks. He may be used to humans, but he is still dangerous if provoked.
Elizabet seems confident, despite the fact that the swarx must be four or five times her weight.
“Is she luring him into a trap?” You whisper, confused as she lets the huge beast come closer without striking.
“She knows what she is doing,” says Alyssa with a mysterious smile.
Elizabet backs slowly, the
swarx gaining on her as it shambles forward on its hind legs. She has plenty of room too maneuver, but instead walks backwards right into a dip in the terrain and falls over backward. With a cry, her staff drops from her grasp. The swarx seizes the moment to loom over her, trumpeting and roaring, strands of saliva dripping from his open mouth.
You tense, reading to leap to the assistance of the young woman. Alyssa’s hand on yours stops you from climbing out of your concealed vantage.
As you watch, Elizabet sits up, scrambling onto her knees before the hulking swarx.
“Please!” She cries. “I yield! This is… this is my trial! I never expected to face a monster as powerful as you.”
The swarx hesitates. Grunting and staring at the young woman with confusion. She moves closer to the huge beast and reaches out her hands to caress his furry legs. He lets out a snort through his trunk and watches her slender fingers combing through the hair of his furry thighs. His pink cock emerges from its furry sheath inch by glistening inch, curving upwards for several inches. It’s quite a bit larger than an average man’s penis, but small compared to the swarx’s massive bulk.
“Oh?” Elizabet reacts in wide-eyed surprise. She covers her mouth with her fingers and stares at the swarx’s pink cock lightly twitching with his arousal. “Is this for me? Would you… let me win if I took care of you?”
The swarx’s inhuman voice rumbles and Elizabet evidently takes it to be encouragement. She grasps the swarx’s cock with both hands. She looks up at him and says, “Well, alright. I’ll do my best.”
As you and Alyssa watch, the young huntress begins passionately sucking the swarx’s cock. She bobs her mouth on him, slurping wantonly as she works him with one hand. With her other hand, she deftly gathers up her blonde hair and ties it with a cord to keep it out of her face. That is a practiced move, you realize. None of this is happening by accident. The young trainee has planned this as her strategy all along. The trainees always choose to fight, they never fuck.
“Rrrrrrowrrrrrooww.” The swarx mewls with bestial pleasure as Elizabet sucks at his pink cock. Her face is flushed and she is clearly enjoying herself. You are impressed with her technique, stopping every few bobs to lash the bulbous tip of the swarx’s cock with her nimble tongue. She presses her lips to that fat tip and even sucks directly on his slit. You can imagine her tongue lashing him beneath her lips.
You hear a soft chuckle beside you.
“What?” You snap at Alyssa.
“I told you she would be alright,” says the succubus, toying with a lock of her hair.
“You naughty whore,” you laugh, loud enough that the swarx and Elizabet pause in their carnal display and look up at the trees where you and Alyssa are concealed. You wait silently for a moment and Alyssa returns to her blowjob. You grab Alyssa by her cloak and crawl down the opposite side of the hill and out of sight of Elizabet’s test. Out of earshot, you continue, “You have been training with her. Teaching her how to pleasure a monster.”
“Not just her,” says Alyssa. “But, yes, she is the first of the girls to use her sexual skills for the trial.”
“How did you teach her to…” You glance back up the hill you just descended.
Alyssa shoves you playfully. “Please, huntmistress! I think you of all people should know how I instructed her in the art of pleasuring a cock.”
Your face flushes. You never discussed the specifics of your relationship with Alyssa, she is a succubus, after all, but for all the years you have been in Tarol you had assumed she was exclusive to you. There was certainly no time for you to explore other relationships with all the training.
“Aw, do not look hurt,” says Alyssa, slipping an arm around your waist. “This was about teaching those girls skills so they did not have to learn them from the monsters they hunt.”
“But you enjoyed teaching them?” You say.
“Well, of course, huntmistress,” she purrs.
She giggles softly, pressing her body against you, reminding you that even the modest fur-lined cloaks you wear cannot fully contain Alyssa’s luscious body. You murmur wordlessly and turn to smile at her. She is as ageless and beautiful as the day you met. You, on the other hand, feel every year you have spent teaching the girls in the hills of Tarol. You have crossed your thirtieth year of age and your thoughts have turned to the limitations time places on your body.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” She says. “Angry?”
“No,” you say softly, gazing into her violet-tinted eyes. You brush your fingers through her hair and turn her face towards yours. “I was thinking that I have always wanted a daughter to train to become a huntress. My time for that is running short. I think…”
“You think?” She raises an eyebrow and a smile quirks her lips.
“I think,” you repeat, leaning in to brush your lips against hers. Your hand strokes the soft fur of her cloak above her mound. Alyssa responds eagerly to your kiss. Her lips part and her tongue twines with yours. You feel her flesh squirm beneath her cloak, swelling and growing stiff.
“Let us return to your lodge,” she whispers. “I will give you exactly what you desire.”
You inform Yassa, one of your elder huntresses, one of the handmaidens who escaped the island, to finish the observation of Elizabet’s trial. She gives you and Alyssa an odd look and you realize you are smiling uncontrollably and holding the hand of the succubus. You do not stop for Yassa’s benefit.
You spread soft furs before the hearth fire in your lodge and Alyssa shares the warms with you as your hands slip her cloak from her shoulders and unlace her straining bodice. You kiss her passionately, remembering all the nights she kept you warm in your bed. Your hand slips into the breeches she wears, bought from a nearby village to fit her luscious hips, and your fingers find the hot, thick root of her cock. You stroke her as your tongues meld together in the steamy kiss.
Recalling Elizabet with the swarx, you pull Alyssa’s breeches lower, grasping her lavender-tinted cock in one hand as you lean down and run your tongue over her fat tip.
“Ohhhh, no need to teach you,” she laughs, tossing her head back as you wrap your lips around her demonic cock. You savor the sweetness of her precum, looking up into her glittering violet eyes as you slurp and suckle at her hardness. She cups her ample breasts and plucks at her lavender nipples as you pleasure her.
“I think it’s only fair if you share in the pleasure,” she says, motioning for you to climb atop her. You are straddling her face, your plump bottom practically smothering her and your dewy cunt against her lips, when you hear the whip of the pelt that covers the door to your lodge. Only one person would dare to enter your lodge unannounced…
“Oh, having some fun, are we?” Your mother does not conceal her amusement. “Don’t mind me. I’m looking for sharpening flints.”
You lift your mouth from Alyssa’s cock with a gasp. “There are some in the great hall. Reena has some in her dugout if you cannot find those.”
Your mother is still beautiful, but her age is beginning to show. It has taken her many years, but she has returned to an almost normal size. The weight and height she has shed has left her with an odd plumpness to her that she never had before. She manages to wear it well, particularly in her heft bosom. She leans towards you and Alyssa, her massive tits straining at her gown.
“Hello, Alyssa,” she says, smiling down.
“Hello, Hilda,” replies the succubus, immediately turning her tongue loose on your cunt.
“Mother, please,” you hiss. “Leave us.”
“Oh, of course,” says your mother, giving you an encouraging pat on your bare bottom. “Enjoy yourself. You work so hard, you deserve it.”
“Thank you for the permission,” you grumble, but your anger fades as you take Alyssa’s cock back into your mouth and resume sucking. Your mother finds your damned flints and departs with a wiggle of her fingers. You climb off Alyssa and roll onto your back beside the fire. The succubus kisses her way up your bo
dy, rubbing her hardness against your tender folds as she kisses you and plays her tongue against your lips. Her soft, hot body presses atop you as she slides her cock into your aching cunt, sheathing every inch of her throbbing hardness inside you.
“Ohhhhhh, you’re as tight as ever,” she moans.
“Fuck me,” you say. “Fuck me like you mean it.”
“No,” she says, a smile on her lips. “I intend to make love to you, huntmistress.”
She smashes a kiss into your lips and begins to move sensually atop you, her hips working and her huge cock pistoning in and out of your clutching cunt. Each stroke of the succubus’s cock is exquisite and drives pleasure deep into your body. Your quim grips her and you feel every ridge and vein of her thick cock. A gasp escapes your lips. Your tits and hers, pressing lightly together, jiggle with each of Alyssa’s thrusts. You build together towards a crescendo, moans rise, pleasure written on your faces.
“I am going to cum,” you cry, feeling the pleasure rising.
“I as well,” she cries. “Deep… deep inside you.”
You look up into her eyes as your pleasure explodes through your body. A smile curls your lips as you feel her cock throb and burst deep inside you, her cum spurting against your womb. You are filled with her hot seed and though no curse of fertility resides in these hills, you are certain that her demonic seed has found purchase.
“Oh, yes,” you cry. “Together… our daughter!”
“Together,” she cries, empting her demonic cum into your body and filling you with a new and glorious purpose.
Huntress, savior of mankind, huntmistress, and now mother. You gladly embark upon this journey with your demonic lover.
But your adventure is at an end.
THE END
Escape the Island of Eldritch Lust Page 132