by Wade, Vixen
The Hooded Figure stood motionless amid the Mastodon skulls. The form, indistinct, shimmered for a moment, as if standing behind a veil. Veronica felt hair along her arms and the back of her neck rise as the figure stepped forward, crystallizing.
Robes the color of the veldt concealed an improbably tall silhouette while the deep pocket of hood revealed only darkness, vast as the midnight sky. The figure beneath the robe was supple and utterly feminine.
“Spirits,” Veronica whispered.
Since she began her journey through the Well of Time, she held little idea of how strange things would become.
“I am, Bast,” the figure said. “I have drawn you here.”
He reached up and lowered her hood, revealing the head of a Siamese cat, eyes large, inhumanly intelligent and feral.
“What do you want?” she asked, feeling apprehension grow through her.
“I need you to fuck for the King in Yellow,” the demi-god answered.
“I serve the Ogre Magi,” she protested. “I bear his mark, and of the little I’ve learned in my time here, it is they are enemies.”
“Which is why the Yellow King wants you to serve him,” Bast replied. “It appeals to his sense of irony.”
“If I fuck, I fuck for the Magi,” she replied. “Or in service of returning to him.”
The creature dropped the cloak from its shoulders, revealing the naked, man-like form beneath the robe. With a powerful hand, it reached down and grabbed a rope full of cock. He grinned, showing curved, white fangs.
“I disagree,” he told her.
She turned and ran.
Sprinting flat out, she dodged piles of bones, massive skulls, and the dangerous points of tusks. Her tits, heavy and full, swung back and forth, bouncing painfully as she fled. Behind, her moving silent and easy, Bast followed in pursuit.
Her breath came ragged in her chest and her stepped faltered. She tripped, went down, forced herself back up and tried running again. A whishing sound flew in from behind her and the bolos struck. Driven by the kinetic force of two weighted ends, the cord snapped around her in a flurry of circular motion, wrapping her up tight.
Arms instantly pinned to her side, legs now bound, Veronica went rigid, falling to the ground. She lay there, defeated and gasping as Bast casually approached. The feline creature stood over her. She craned her head and looked up.
The creature’s heavy cock hung free and it was the first thing her eyes fell on. Despite her vast experience, she blushed and looked away, hating herself for her reaction to the sight of it. Instinctually, she wanted it. And, if she were honest with herself, she wanted it bad.
“I am a hunter,” the demi-god said. “I like it when my prey runs.”
She cursed, defiant. Bast squatted down easily on muscular thighs, his dick hanging so low it almost touched the ground. She found her eyes drawn to it again, despite her vow not to look.
“I am the Magi’s,” she repeated.
“You are tied up, and at my feet, prey fairly caught, and far from your master’s realm,” he replied. “I’m going to play with you, then I’m going to mount you. You will be fucked hard, and you will be fucked well.” He paused long enough to push an errant strand of hair from her reddened face. “First you will need education.”
At the word ‘education,’ she felt her pussy grow moist. She looked in another direction, pouting. “I won’t help you,” she huffed.
“We’ll see,” he said, voice almost bored.
A strong hand took hold of her arm in a firm, commanding grip, and she was easily hauled to her feet. Hunting bolos still wrapped tightly around her, she could do little but stand still and try not to fall.
Looking around, Bast picked out a Mastodon skull of the correct size and stalked to it, casually throwing the human woman over one shoulder as he did so. She squawked at the indignity, trying to flail with her feet and jerk her body in protest.
Lowering himself onto his seat, he rotated her off his shoulder and draped her in a flippant motion across one knee. Realizing what was about to happen, Veronica howled her protest.
“No, no, no!”
The hard paddle of the cat god’s hand came down on her tender buttock with an audible smack. “Ouch!” she shouted. Slowly, he lifted his hand and brought it down again. Smack. The tender skin of her ass cheeks turned bright red. He spanked her several more times as she wailed.
“Ouch, ouch!”
“You’ve been very naughty,” he explained. “You’ve left me little choice.” He chuckled, voice barbaric. “It’s actually my first choice.”
“Fuck you!”
He spanked her, she cried out. The blows did not come fast. He paused leisurely between each slap of her ass, letting anticipation build. Hot tears welled up in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. She felt his cock growing until the long shaft brushed her belly and she continued growing damper in response.
Not wanting him to notice her arousal, she squeezed her thighs together. The motion massaged her swollen clitoris and she gave an involuntary shudder of pleasure. The stinging slap caught her at just that moment and intensified the sensation to beyond a degree she could ever have imagined.
“I hate you!”
“I’m going to half to spank you until you learn to behave,” he said.
“Go to hell!”
Swat, smack. Swat, smack. Swat, smack.
“Ow, ow, ow!”
He paused to admire the red glow of her ass. Her butt cheeks radiated heat. His cock was rock hard and pressing into her belly now. Unable to keep her thighs squeezed shut tight, the juices of her arousal leaked out on his leg.
They sat still for a moment, both breathing hard, though for very different reasons. Gently, he laid the weight of his palm down against her abused flesh. She moaned involuntarily at the touch.
“Are you ready to be good, yet?” he asked.
“No,” she answered, voice petulant.
He spanked her again, but easy, as a reminder, and she trembled.
“Now?”
Voice reluctant, she nodded. “Yes.”
“Good, now kneel.”
He picked her off his leg and placed her on her knees in the soft grass. She remained helpless, trussed up and immobile. He stood and looked down. He reached out and lifted her chin, forcing her to look at him.
Her cheeks ran wet with her tears, face flushed almost as red as her ass. She tried looking away but he forced her face back up at him. His cock was a rigid pole between them.
“You’re really very beautiful,” he told her. “Look at what you’ve done to my cock.”
He removed his hand from her chin and stood with his hands on hips. Completely in command of the moment, and of her. She allowed herself to look openly at his erect penis. It was very pink in contrast to the midnight black of his fur and curved upward in a Rhino horn of flesh.
Unconsciously, her tongue found the full swell of her lips. She put a pouty a look on her face and looked away from the rigid truncheon of flesh. The nipples on her breasts, wrapped tight in loops of the bolo cord, stiffened.
“Because you are so willful,” Bast told her, “I’m afraid you don’t deserve to feel my dick in your pussy. But you’ve caused me some labor here, some consternation and effort. And something must be done with this cock in its present state.” He sighed, then went on. “So I’ll use your other hole. You need to earn the pleasure of a good cunt fuck. For now, I’ll take you in the ass.”
Veronica started to protest and Bast used his penis to slap her gently across the face in warning. “Hush, protest more, and I’ll spank you again until you’re ready. Save your energy for what is most important to you right at this moment.”
“What is that,” she asked, sullen.
“This big cock is going in that little asshole. If I were you, I’d make it sure I lubed it up as much as possible before it gets put in there.”
Lower lip out, brow furrowed, she slowly turned her face back toward that great erection.<
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“Untie me,” she demanded.
He pushed his penis closer to her lips. “Suck it,” he told her.
She gave churlish look, but in the next instant seemed to relax, ready to capitulate. There was little choice, and if she were being honest, she wanted to do it.
Slowly, she opened her mouth. Arcing her back to sit taller, she lifted herself higher on her knees, fighting to maintain her balance. Her breath, hot and wet, blew across the glistening pink head of his penis.
Holding it by the root, he pulled it away from her mouth at the last moment, leaving her lips grasping at empty air. She pulled her head back in surprise and he leaned in and slapped her face with it.
“Try again.”
Again she rose up on her knees, struggling to keep her balance. Straining her neck, she reached out with her face toward his hard on. Again he pulled it away at the last second, and she made an angry, frustrated little noise.
“Ask for it,” he instructed, voice quiet.
She looked up and met his eyes, seeing the vast power there. She met his gaze, expression suddenly coy, voice higher pitched and soft.
“Please,” she whispered.
“Please, what?” he asked, voice mild, but with the hint of an edge.
“Please may I suck your cock?” she asked primly.
“Why?”
Her voice grew husky now, raw with the wanting of it. “So that I can lube it up very well before you fuck my ass, Lord.”
He nodded, satisfied. “You may suck this Lord’s cock.”
Once more she lifted her body up, straining against her bonds to get at the pink monster, alive with thick, full veins. Her mouth was open, and she looked almost ridiculously eager. He stood before her calmly and let her mouth envelope his erection.
In some secret, analytical part of her, Veronica wondered if her need, an almost insatiable appetite really, was some aspect of the Magi’s mark. She had no need of sleep or sustenance now, but each time she was taken by one strange beast or another, she felt her energy grow, her acuity and insight strengthen, her body become more resilient and agile.
They both shuddered in pleasure as the warm, spit filled orifice closed over the straining flesh of his penis. Bast let his head fall back, white fangs showing as he growled out his approval.
Veronica bent forward at the neck, taking more of the long phallus into her mouth. She let her mouth fill with warm spit as she started bobbing up and down along its length, smearing the salvia across the shaft, leaving strings of it dripping off.
Her tongue swirled around the sensitive glans, licking and lathing the organ with her soft, hot tongue. Bast snarled in approval, the sound feral and powerful. Big hands closed on either side of her head, the points of his obsidian-tipped claws pressed against the sensitive skin of her scalp.
He curled his fingers in her hair, looping it around his palms until they formed reins for him to control her head. Understanding from long experience on her knees, Veronica prepared herself for what she knew was coming.
Grunting heavily, he pulled on her hair hard and began shoving his hips forward, eager to put more of his dick into her. She felt the squat, broad head pushing past her uvula and she coughed as it triggered her gag reflex. Sputum coughed up from her throat in thick ropes and spilled out her mouth.
His hips hammered her face until her nose bounced off his pelvis. Rivers of drool flooded out of her mouth and dripped down over his big balls. Cords of it, thick as fingers, linked the front of his thighs with her chin. Her neck and tits ran slick with it as more flowed in streams down the outside of her throat. She was sloppy with it.
He didn’t pause or slow at her gagging, instead increased his stroke depth, shoving his cock down her throat, yanking her hair roughly. With one powerful thrust, he sheathed his shaft all the way down her throat until her mouth stretched wide open, and his nutsack pressed against her chin.
He froze for a moment in that position, fully impaling her face. She tried to pull back, but he pulled her hair toward him. “Take it, take it,” he warned. “You fucking take it.”
She coughed against the invasion and more spittle sprayed them both. Slowly, he released his hold on her hair, allowing her to ease back on his long cock and catch a breath. Cock dripping and slippery with her spit, he pulled the organ free of her mouth.
“That should do it,” he smiled down into her tear streaked face.
Without explanation or warning, he picked her up bodily and bent her over the massive Mastodon skull, face down, ass up. He was behind her in a flash, cockhead already at the opening of her ass, even before she caught her breath.
He rubbed the length of himself along the crack of her ass and over the puckered surface of her anus, smearing the spit in. She willed herself to relax, to open her rectum. That cock was going in, better she tried to accept it. She wanted it, wanted it in her ass, wanted it rough and hard.
She felt the tip at her opening and squeezed her eyes shut. He shoved it in, plunging all of it down, his bodyweight driving it in balls deep on the first stroke. Her mouth and eyes flew open in shock, back arcing like a jumping fish as he slammed the big cock home all the way.
“Ahhhh!” she shrieked and her cry echoed past the bleached bones of long dead beasts.
“Yes!” Bast snarled in triumphant.
Immediately, he began banging away, He didn’t ease her into, instead he pulled out almost to the tip, then slammed it home to the root. He steadily increased the pace on each stroke, fucking her ass faster and harder with each push. She felt her own spit spreading up and down her rectum, greasing the groove, but it was just barely enough lubricant. She would have traded her weight in gold for some good old K-Y jelly.
The friction rub of his cock in her ass built, sending spasms of both pain and pleasure, each complimenting the other, through her. She gasped for a breath every time he pounded his cock until she was moaning a drum beat rhythm of grunts. “Uh, uh, uh, uh.”
Almost impossibly, she felt him growing even harder in the tight canal of her ass, the long penis lengthened, swelling, until she was utterly stuffed, and the shock wave of each thrust hammer up into her guts.
“Ouch, ouch, oh god, ouch!” she squealed.
Bast fucked her harder.
With each heavy, gravid, thrust, the pain increased, but became transformational. Her head rocked with each penetration, mouth slack from the hypnotic sensation, so that even more drool trailed from her lips. Her eyes closed as she reveled in the experience. The pleasure was a molten current, accentuated by the pain-induced endorphins.
Her orgasm hit her like a freight train rolling downhill. She sobbed, crying out wildly, head jerking back and forth. She made barking sounds, like a seal, as he pumped into her, spreading her anus wide. Her body convulsed in ripples of pleasure and wild passion, and somewhere in the middle of it Bast shot his load up her ass, spewing his cum up her pink channel with erratic force.
In the next moment the fever pitch of ecstasy was over and she felt herself sag limp, melting onto the top of the skull. Hot rivulets of cum rushed out of her ass as he pulled his dick free, and ran over the back of her thighs.
“God,” she whispered.
She lay still, soaking up the afterglow of the orgasm. Her abused ass throbbed and pulsed, still hot and tender. She looked up and found Bast standing before her, dick dripping with their mingled juices. She knew what he wanted, and eagerly submissive, opened her mouth.
He placed his dirty cock between her lips, allowing her to clean it, licking and sucking until the soft shaft glowed a tender pink. She felt him harden again, and she sucked harder, daring to bob her head a little. If he popped a second boner that meant a second fucking, and maybe now she’d earned one for her pussy.
He pulled his dick from her mouth and looked down, smiling the inscrutable, enigmatic smile of one who knew and traded in occult secrets. “Very good,” he purred in that basso profundo. “Good girl.” He placed an indulgent hand on the top of her hea
d. “Now we can talk.”
***
“There is a great need,” Bast began. “There is danger. It happens now.”
Veronica, untied, felt adrenaline splash her stomach in cold, greasy shots. If this deity needed help then the danger was terrible indeed.
“How can I help?”
Without preamble he began speaking. His voice melodious, rich, almost lyrical, and his eyes glistened, hypnotic. But there was a touch of the Cat there too; something predatory in his luminescent yellow eyes. She noticed his teeth, milk-white, curved like daggers.
“Narlathotep, the Black Pharaoh, rises. Even now his servants, from the unclean creatures, to the spirits, to vile witch-men, are all on the march in his name. They attack at every hand to acquire his full emergence into this realm. There is no outrage they are not capable of and with each corrupt act, Narlathotep grows stronger.”
“Why here?” she asked. “Why now?”
“On an ancient island newly risen in the seas to the east, drawn by dimensional thaumaturgy of immense power, there is a terrible, ancient city buried deep in the cold marsh of its interior. It is a cursed place, written of in antediluvian times by the Priests of Leng, the Scribes to the King in Yellow. It is the city R’yleh, which dreams as long as the Great Old One Cthulhu sleeps. There, in the heart of the ruin, lurks an ancient guardian, the Hunting Horror, crafted by inhuman hands to open the doorway hidden in the city. Stop that demon, and you stop The Crawling Chaos from waking its master, Cthulhu.”
Veronica nodded. “I am not a powerful warrior, Lord. Why send me?” She was afraid, and she felt she had good reason to be.
“The proclivities of the Hunting Horror and its minions are well known. She must lay with a creature and lie to it. Training is innate to this task. Also, when we are finished here, I shall put the Sigil of the Succubus upon you. It will transform your body, your womanhood into a lethal, soul sucking weapon.”