Ecstasy of the Lore Hunter

by Amanda Clover

  “Me come,” the gertling said, pattering after her. Greta hurried in and through the waiting doorway, and as she did so, she couldn’t help but notice a slickness between her thighs. A reminder of a dream she might soon enough make reality.

  The Serpent Kings

  The room they entered was a grim thing, even by the standards of what they’d faced before. Towering statues of stone serpents filled the two walls, their coils winding around in piles, their heads rearing above the room while ruby eyes flashed in the dim light of Greta’s spell. Long stone slabs lined the floor, pots filling the space between them.

  The air within was oppressive, and Greta glanced at those stone slabs suspiciously as she and the gertling moved towards the far end of the room. Here another door lay, sealed tight with a twisting lock in the shape of an ouroboros.

  Greta stopped before the door. She tapped her chin, scrutinizing it thoughtfully.

  “Me no like this place,” Dinni whimpered, shuffling closer to her.

  “Stop whining,” Greta muttered. She reached out and carefully touched the door. “Let’s see. Ah,” she murmured, her fingers sliding along the scaly stone and at last finding the two holes the twining serpents wrapped about. “There we are. It’s a small lock. Gonna have to… shit,” she said, her hands too large to fit through the hole. “It won’t…”

  She glanced back at the gertling, who cocked his head in confusion. “What?”

  “Dinni? Stick your hands in these. There’s a locking mechanism inside. You’ll have to hold it down and it should unseal itself.”

  “What!” the gertling yelped. “No! Me not know what happens! Me not want hurt!”

  “Let’s not forget just who has the power here, Dinni,” Greta growled, raising her hand and giving the air a light squeeze.

  The gertling gasped as he felt that shadow collar tighten around his throat. “N-no fair!” the gertling whined.

  “Whoever said anything about fairness?” Greta answered, giving her hand another light twitch, the collar tensing around the gertling’s throat. “But fine,” she said, opening her fingers, releasing the gertling from the stranglehold of her spell. “Do this, and I’ll… hm… I’ll jerk you off. How about that?”

  Dinni rubbed his neck, inhaling deeply. He looked up at the domineering woman before him. “…Can me maybe fuck tits?” the gertling said.

  “What do I look like? A merchant! We’re not haggling over a loaf of bread here,” Greta said sharply. “You should be thankful I’m even offering to touch your warty little cock. Now get to it.”

  Grumbling to himself, Dinni slouched towards the waiting wall. Unable to watch, he turned away his head as he delicately fit his trembling arms into the slots. He felt around within, finally finding a pair of handles. Reluctantly, the gertling grasped them and turned them.

  “Eeeee!” the gertling squealed as, with a grind of stone, the serpents began to cycle, sliding against each other slowly.

  “Quit complaining. It’s working out fine,” Greta said.

  The boom of stone silenced her.

  Greta turned about, her eyes widening as the slabs along the walls shifted and fell aside. She gaped as an arm wrapped in thick, winding bandages grasped the side of the coffin and slowly pulled its owner up.

  Slim limbs were draped with ancient bangles and jewels and chokers. Tattered wrappings hung from the mummy like strips of yellowed flesh. A crown flared around a wedge-shaped head like a cobra’s hood. As Greta watched, the wrappings about the head strained, then snapped. Yellowed fangs filled a rotting maw, a low, ragged hiss rising from the creature’s throat.

  More thuds followed, and Greta looked about to see every sarcophagus open. More of the rotting, serpentine mummies rose from them, clawed hands agleam with forgotten treasures and talons of gold and jewels.

  “Oh gods,” Greta breathed, taking a step back, her eyes widening in awe as the ancient kings pulled themselves out of their tombs and began to shamble towards her. History come alive in the most literal manner. “This is incredible!”

  “Eeeeee!”

  Greta jumped out of her reverie at the gertling’s cry. The stunted monster was staring at the shambling corpses with horror, his eyes so wide they looked like they might pop from his skull.

  “What they! Me no want die!”

  “H-hey! Keep your hands in the lock. Oh, damn it all,” Greta cursed, rounding back to the mummified kings. She grit her teeth in frustration. To think of all the knowledge that the corpses before her might possess, to say nothing of the artifacts that dangled from their bandaged forms. A literal treasure trove of archaeological wonder.

  But… the empress needed her.

  “Ohhhh. I’m going to hate myself for this later,” Greta moaned as she raised her arms. Words of magic poured from her lips, power crackling from her fingers as she quickly wove the signs. Fire surged into her palms, rolling in an inferno of her will. She cast forward her hand, a single word of power snapping through the air.

  Tongues of flame surged forward, licking hungrily for the bandaged figures.

  It had been a very long time since flame had come to those depths. The first mummy went up like a torch, fire racing up the dry bandages and consuming it in a sudden blaze. The mummy stumbled into its neighbour, putting that one alight as well.

  Like wildfire it spread to the others in the shambling ranks. Greta bit her lip in despair at the history she was watching go up in quite literal smoke.

  She coughed, fanning her hand before her face to disperse some of the incense laden smoke. Already the flames were beginning to die down, and as they did, reveal just what she had done. Where once the kings of a lost empire stood, there now were only smoke-stained cloth and blackened reptilian bone. Her heart clenched with pain as she watched those priceless treasures crumble to dust before her in a series of neat piles.

  With a sigh she knelt before them, gently lifting up a sooty amulet that had once graved a bony neck.

  As she held it, her brow wrinkled in surprise. There was not an enchantment on that treasure. Not a cantrip or a sorcery. She slowly turned it over in her hand, confused. These were kings or high priests. Surely the treasures they’d been buried with should have been embedded with magic to aid them through the nether world.

  And that made her wonder as well. Surely some sort of protection would have been laid on these hallowed dead. And yet her flames had caught them as if they had truly only been garbed in tattered cloth. And they fell to pieces so easily. Strange, she mused, rubbing away the ash from the jewel that formed the necklace’s centerpiece. Very strange…

  Dinni’s yelp recalled her to the present. She rose to her feet and turned to face the gertling. The diminutive monster had yanked his hands from the twin holes in the door. Silently, a seam split the stone and the elaborate locking mechanism. With a whisper stirring nothing but the dust of ages the doors slid aside and into the walls, unveiling another room. The final one, Greta knew. Her long studies had brought her here. At last. To the final secret of the lost kingdom.

  To that which would save all of man from the Duke of Ashes.

  “Come,” Greta said, brushing the gertling’s head.

  “But…”

  Greta stopped and looked back at the gertling. “What?”

  “You promised you pleasure Dinni with hand,” the gertling said.

  Greta closed her eyes and prayed for patience. “Oh for… fine. Let’s just get this over with.”

  Dinni grinned happily and thrust aside his loincloth, his warty cock already quivering with anticipation for her touch. With a reluctant sigh Greta got down on her knees and grasped the gertling’s warty cock.

  “Ooooh,” Dinni moaned as she began to stroke him. “Feels gooood!”

  “Gods you’re repulsive,” Greta said, her thumb teasing the head of his tiny cock. “Look at you, you disgusting little creature. Look at your little warty cock. You enjoy this, don’t you? Making me touch your wretched little cock. Did you really think I wou
ld ever willingly touch you?”

  “Noooo,” the gertling moaned, hips twitching as she wanked him. “Me not think so!”

  “But you want me to, don’t you?” Greta continued, her breathing deepening a little as her hand moved faster, faster over the contours of his warty shaft, his pre dribbling over her fingers, oiling them as she wanked him. “You want a beautiful human woman to masturbate you, you filthy little monster.”

  “Me want!” Dinni gasped. “Me want!”

  “You have to cum so badly. But you’re holding it in, aren’t you? Making me keep doing it. Because you know the second you cum I’ll be finished. And you want to feel me hand on you for as long as you can.” She leaned in closer, her eyes sharp with anger and smoldering with lust. “You filthy little monster. You think you can get away with this just because you helped me.”

  “Yesssss!” Dinni moaned. “Me want wo-man’s hand on cock! Me love wo-man!”

  “I bet you’d love it even more to fuck my hot pussy, wouldn’t you?” Greta breathed.

  “Mmm hmmm!”

  “Well you won’t,” she said sharply, squeezing his stunted cock, making the gertling squeal in delight. “You will never get to fuck my pussy. Understand? The best you can ever hope for is for me to jerk off your pathetic little cock.”

  “Me understand!” Dinni moaned, panting hotly. “Me… me… mnnnn!”

  The gertling cried out as his cock exploded, his oily cum pumping from his shaft and splattering over the floor and Greta’s hand. The sorceress grunted in disgust, but her fingers kept moving, kept driving the gertling past his orgasm, his oily seed splattering on the cold floor.

  When at last the gertling’s cock had softened Greta pulled back her hand. “Ugh,” she muttered. Grabbing a cloth from her pocket she hastily wiped her hand of the gertling’s cum. “Wretched little thing.”

  Dinni merely grinned happily. “It felt good, wo-man,” he tittered. Then yelped as she threw the cum soaked rag at his face.

  “Whatever,” she scoffed, rising back to her feet. “Come on. We’re nearly finished here.”

  Dinni pulled off the rag, his eyes shrewd as Greta walked through the dark doorway before them. He followed her once again, creeping through the darkness at her heels.

  The Last Chamber

  Greta stepped through the doorway and into a dark chamber. One so vast the globe of light she bore never even reached the edges of its walls.

  Instantly she felt that this room was different from the rest. A sense of deep, grim foreboding hung in the very air. The elemental might of magic thrilled up her spine, spread through her nerves and tingled through to her very toes. She took a sharp breath, her heart quickening at the sensation. As if in a dream she walked forwards, Dinni trailing behind her. The glow fell across ancient stone tiles, and finally upon the end of the room.

  Greta stopped.

  Before her was a vast wall. Worked in its surface was a series of rings emblazoned with a series of strange signs, each ring rippling out from the center. As she drew near, the signs gave a single pulse of red light, the magic ensconced within snapping through her like an electric shock.

  “This is it,” Greta breathed. “The final seal.”

  Dinni looked at her, uncertain. “This end?”

  “Yes,” Greta breathed, taking a step forward. Gingerly she touched the ancient stone, gasping softly. “It’s… cold…”

  “Does… does Dinni need stay?”

  The gertling’s words recalled her somewhat. She looked back at the stunted monster, shifting from foot to foot nervously, eying the quiet chamber uneasily.

  “…No, Dinni,” Greta said, turning to face the gertling. “Not this time. I think it’s fair to say you’ve done everything I could have expected from you. And then some. Although you did get rewarded for it,” she added with a disapproving glance. “But,” she continued before the gertling could panic, “I’m a woman of my word. So here,” she said, gesturing at the gertling, magic trailing from her fingers like blue waves. “You’re free.”

  Dinni gasped as the shadowy band about his neck dissipated like morning mist. He touched his throat with awe, his eyes shining in joy. “Me thank wo-man!” he said eagerly.

  “Yes. Yes. Now off you go. The way back should be safe since we disarmed all the traps.”

  “Me go,” Dinni said, bowing as he backed up, nearly hitting his head on the floor with his eagerness. “Me thank wo-man. Me thank!”

  The moment he reached the edge of the light the gertling spun around and raced away. Greta listened to his feet slap off the floor until only the faintest echoes still reached her. Despite it all, she might actually miss the pathetic little monster a little.

  She shook her head with a sigh and turned back to the towering gate. She may miss him, but this was her true objective.

  The ancient stone ring faced her, sealing what lay beyond. Greta took a deep breath. This was it. The secret of the lost realm. The truth behind what had destroyed a civilization so powerful it had covered the continent. With a trembling hand she touched the stone, keying in the formula she knew so well. It had cost a fortune to find that scroll. To piece together the keys. But it would do now. It would all be worth it.

  And as soon as she touched it, she knew something was wrong.

  She realized it belatedly after she had keyed in the markings. A subtle pressure beneath the signs warning her that something had been overlaid atop the proper sealing. Something newer than the stones which surrounded her and glowed at her touch. Her eyes widened as the symbols crackled, threads of light combining to form a sign.

  A sign of summoning.

  With a cry Greta threw up her arms, a barrier springing up between her and the wall. An explosion of crimson magic crackled outwards like claws of lightning. Her barrier shattered beneath the blow, but blunted the assault. Even so the magic lashed her, tearing her clothes to shreds, her skin tingling with the faint marks and scratches.

  Greta was sent sprawling, unharmed, but she frantically scrambled back to her feet. She knew that was merely the first salvo, and the next would be far, far worse. She stood just as a tear in the fabric of the world opened, revealing a realm of hellish red and swirling black. And from it, a thing emerged.

  Its nature did not adhere to the laws of reality. A dozen eyes swirled along a form as viscous and formless as hot tar. Tentacles sprouted, dripping foul ichor and reached into reality, clawing for her. For her sweet warm flesh and the magic that burned in her like fire.

  Greta raised her hands, calling out a quick spell. The magic slashed the air, crescent blades of pure force slicing through the reaching limbs. The thing’s bulk split, a vast maw howling in pain. But Greta’s triumph faltered as the tentacles regrew and lunged for her. She raised her arms to shield her face on instinct, and the horror answered by grasping them, as well as her legs, her waist, and more, pulling her towards it.

  The force of that tear in existence pulled at her, sucking what shreds of her clothing remained away, leaving her naked in totality. The heat of the void beat at her, but her mind railed against the unreality that existed, and slowly she ground to a halt, her sanity holding at bay that awesome gulf.

  The thing which filled the tear in the world again moaned in fury, but Greta held her ground, denying it herself. But it still had her in its grasp, and its tentacles began to flow over her.

  Greta gasped as the sensation of the tentacles changed. They slid along her soft flesh, two winding around her heavy breasts. She bit her lip, flushes as they began to stroke her sensitive mounds, a blush rising to her cheeks. She arched, tensing as a second and third of its insidious limbs slithered against her asshole and her slit.

  Her feet scraped forward another inch.

  “N-no!” Greta gasped, firming herself once more. It was trying to break her focus. Break her mind with pleasure. If it did, she would-

  “Oooooh!” she moaned as the tentacles slid into her pussy and ass, swirling in her quivering body, lubed by thei
r own ichor. She twisted in its grasp, wracked with pleasure as the tentacles began to slide in and out of her, fucking her hungrily. Her breasts were little more than playthings in the grasp of its limbs, teased and used to break her will.

  “N-no. No no no no,” she panted, shaking her head frantically. But no matter how desperately she denied it, the sensations which burned through her like every nerve vibrated with pleasure made themselves known. Her bare feet were dragged across the floor, towards the waiting maw of the horror, towards the end of sanity and her.

  She writhed in its grasp as her pleasure built, helpless to resist its touch. Her pussy tightened, massaging the plunging tentacle, her ass aching as it was so wonderfully filled. A cry of helpless delight escaped her as the limb in her ass began to inflate and vibrating, filling her more completely than she could have imagined possible.

  She was a thrall. A plaything. An instrument of pleasure played with skills of unearthly abilities. Her cheeks were flushed with the effort of resistance, for she knew that an orgasm would blast her mind to insanity. Would weaken her beyond hope. Beyond prayer. And in that helpless moment she would be pulled inside to a fate not even her nightmares could understand.

  But no. No! She wasn’t beaten yet! She could… she could… “Oh gods!” Greta screamed in delight as the limbs on her breasts stretched out further, the tips engulfing the buds of her perky nipples, sucking at them hungrily in a way that just made her melt.

  She was close. Close enough now to feel the danger of her climax. To see the shifting eyes of the horror, the varying patterns of darkness in its form. And at the edges of the tear… at the edges…

  Were the symbols that had opened the void.

  In a flash she realized what it was. An overlay. A thing written above the seals of the tomb, activated at her touch, but not engrained in the room. Like anchors they held open the tear, and if she could reverse it…

  She gasped, hips thrust out as the pumping tentacle in her cunt began to assault her even faster. Even harder. Her body eagerly accepted its ministrations. Frantic for more of those sweet pleasures. Pulling her closer.