Escape the Island of Eldritch Lust

by Amanda Clover

  The drider rises to his feet, but does not get in your way as you and Alyssa set off once more down the path to Rhilath. Your mother’s voice growls in your mind, “You behaved like disgusting sluts, bathed in the cum of this creature that profanes the name of the Great One.”

  “The Great One will be fine, I’m sure,” you say with a thought to your mother, wishing you could roll your mind’s eye.

  Alyssa laces her arm through yours and leans her head against your shoulder. Her affectionate touch and the sweet smell of her makes you smile.

  “Like I would really abandon you for that overgrown bug,” she says. “You’re too much fun.”

  You have to admit, the journey is much more pleasant now that you have the succubus by your side.

  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 >

  Parley

  You can feel the tension mounting by the moment. Your sister wants to strike down this beautiful, dangerous demoness and the demoness demands you stay for hospitality. But you know enough from your years in the library to know that a succubus is a not an unthinking monster. She can be reasoned with. Deals, if cautiously struck, can even be beneficial.

  “We have an important journey ahead of us,” you say, placing a calming hand on Kara’s shoulder. “We only want to leave her in peace so that we might go and deal with the Great One.”

  “Deal with him?” Alyssa cocks her head suspiciously.

  “He holds our mother prisoner,” you say, which isn’t exactly the truth. “We intend to destroy him and free her.”

  “Mother?” The succubus’s expression softens. “I see. Well, I do not care for the Great One and I would very much like to see him destroyed. I do not know if two huntresses can do it. I suppose you have a better chance than most.”

  She teases her lips with a fingertip as if considering whether or not to let you leave.

  “I suppose I could allow you to go,” she says. You and Kara start towards the door again. Alyssa stops you both with a gentle hand on your chest and Kara’s chest. “But… I am verrrry hungry. It has been so long since I have had anyone pay me a visit worth feeding from.”

  “You’re not devouring our souls,” growls Kara.

  “Not allll of them,” chuckles Alyssa. “Just a little taste of life force as incandescent as yours and, if you still want to leave, I will permit you to go. A single kiss is all I ask from you both.”

  “She means to trick us,” hisses Kara, looking at you with concern.

  Alyssa looks at you, a sensual smile on her face. Kara seems so weak still. You remember from your readings on succubae that even a kiss from one can addict a man and turn him into her pawn. If Kara is so weak, perhaps you should do all the kissing. Your sister can pull you away if your will or your strength begins to falter.

  You look from Alyssa to your sister. Both women seem to be awaiting your decision.

  What do you do?

  Tell Alyssa to kiss you twice

  Agree to Alyssa's terms

  “No, you’ve had enough!”

  Alyssa’s eyes glow with violet magic. Her tail seems to kiss softly against your cunt and her hot, sweet breath caresses your neck and up your cheeks as she moves to your lips. Her body is so warm and inviting atop yours. It would be so easy to simply give yourself to the demoness, to surrender your life and soul to the gorgeous demoness.

  But some part of you fears the price the world might pay if you abandon your quest. You and Kara are the last hope to stop the Great One before he arises.

  “Mmmmmm,” you moan and turn away as she tries to kiss you.

  “Come, my sweet,” purrs Alyssa. “Feed me your power. Surrender your essence to me.”

  You get your hands beneath her soft breasts and push her away. She looks at you with surprise as the glow dims in her violet eyes.

  “No,” you say sharply, “you’ve had enough! That was the deal and I have held up my end of the agreement.”

  She purses her lips and folds her wings closed. The glow in her eyes dims until it is gone and you feel her tail release its strange kiss against your sex and slowly slither back over your thigh. She sits back on her knees, her shapely bottom resting against her heels. She seems to pout for a moment, but her smile returns.

  “Very well, Penelope,” she says. “I admit that I am disappointed. I have never tasted a sweeter soul than yours, to devour it would have been a delight, but I am a woman of my word. No further harm will come to you.”

  “Good,” you gasp, relieved that you no longer have to resist her charms. You scoot back on the bed and sit upright, pulling the silky sheet over your naked body. You know you should still be wary of her, but at this point she has left you feeling a bit drained and woozy. If she decided to attack, you’re not sure you could do much to stop her.

  “Feeling a bit tired?” She says. “Let us have some refreshments before I send you off to your sister.”

  She claps her hands and the door swings open with a thump. Voluptuous whores and bird-headed men march into the room carrying goblets of wine, trays heaped with meats, fruits, and delicious pastries. Alyssa grabs a cream-topped tart from one of the trays and stuffs it greedily into her mouth.

  “Mmmmmmm, divine,” she says with a full mouth, petting the head of the wench with the tray of tarts. “Give our guest a feast.”

  Feeling puckish after your long and exhausting encounter with Alyssa, you do not hold back. The food is perfectly prepared and seasoned. Cuts of roast pheasant and venison sausage are as delicious as cream puffs, jelly custards, and grilled pieces of halana fruit. You drink wine, juice, and cold milk that has a strange, sweet aftertaste.

  “Where did you get all this food?” You wonder, licking your fingers clean of cream.

  “I have a vast contingent of slaves,” says Alyssa, crunching into a miniature pickle at the end of a tiny fork. “They prepare whatever I would like. My way of saying thanks to you, huntress. And to give you strength for your journey to the Dead City.”

  “How did you… ?” You leave the questions hanging. Alyssa answers you with a playful shrug. She leans down to lick a spot of whipped cream from your cheek. Her tongue teases across your lips before she leans back. “You had better go to your sister now, Penelope. She is growing impatient.”

  “One more thing,” you say and you press a hungry kiss to Alyssa’s lips. Your tongue invades her mouth, tasting the sweetness of the wine she has been drinking. She moans and chuckles against your lips, seeming to savor the last kiss nearly as much as your first. You caress her cheek and murmur, “Goodbye, Alyssa.”

  You dress and return to the parlor accompanied by a pair of the bird-headed guards. Kara is waiting for you, pacing impatiently, with several barely-touched trays of food and wine being tended to by more of the slave girls. One of the women, a shapely brunette with particularly large, dark eyes, is trying to cling to Kara’s shoulders and whisper in her ear. Kara keeps shrugging her off and seems relieved when she sees you entering the parlor.

  “I was afraid I would have to come in there and get you,” says Kara. “Are you alright?”

  “Yeah,” you say. “Barely. You were right. It was a mistake to go back there. But… it was… memorable.”

  “You fucked a succubus,” says Kara matter-of-factly. She looks at the women lounging on the couches. “My sister fucked a succubus and lived to tell the tale. That’s something, isn’t it?”

  Kara claps you on the shoulder and adds, “You’ve got a lot of heart, Penny. Now let’s get out of here before that demoness comes back to finish you off.”

  You nod your agreement and step out of the brothel through the curtain and the rotten doorway. The door thumps closed behind you, cutting off the red light that glows from the warm interior of the Palace of Crimson Silk. You and Kara sigh in unison as you take in the d
reary forest. At least the rain has stopped.

  The gloomy woods remind you of the arduous journey still ahead of you as you continue on the path. You glance back once over your shoulder to see the brothel, crumbling and seemingly lifeless, disappearing into the woods behind you. Some part of you wishes you were still there, in Alyssa’s warm embrace, enjoying her kiss and the luscious softness of her body.

  “Come on,” says Kara. “We might still make it before nightfall.”

  The hope of arriving in Rhilath before nightfall is soon brought low as you arrive at a deep crevasse. It is too wide to cross with a rope and too sheer and deep to climb down and back up again.

  “We follow it that way,” says Kara, pointing towards the cost. “Either we find a crossing or we go to the sea and follow the coast. Whichever comes first.”

  You have to agree. You see no other way. There is also something slightly comforting about the idea of being close to the sea again after your miserable journey inland.

  CONTINUE >

  You want to feel her tongue on your clit

  Velora’s fingers feel magical already, but her tongue? Your face flushes an even darker shade of crimson as you consider her offer. You have read about such things in books before, certainly, but you never imagined yourself in a position to have a woman touch you in this way. It seems nasty! She will smell the scent of your womanhood and even taste your juices gathering on your pouting folds. So nasty that it is exciting.

  You have to know how it feels. This may be your only chance to know the pleasure of a woman before you are mangled or worse by some monster.

  “Yes,” you say. “Oh, please, Velora. Let me feel your tongue upon my clit.”

  “Mmmmmm,” the red-headed whore gives you a hungry look, “with pleasure, love.”

  Your head falls back on the pillow of your bed and you gaze up at the plastered ceiling of the room as you feel Velora’s warm kiss moving down over your tummy. Her fingers lightly tease your quim, seeming to promise the pleasure you will feel when her tongue arrives at your dewy folds.

  As she moves ever lower, Velora’s tongue teases the tender button of your navel. You giggle and jerk and your plump breasts shudder in response. The heat of her breath moves lower, her fingernails tease your hip and she slides completely off the bed, landing lightly on her knees with a thump. She pushes your knees apart. You take a deep breath to try to steady yourself as you shiver with anticipation.

  “Such a lovely little muffin,” Velora purrs, stroking her fingers between your legs. Your face burns with embarrassment, imagining her staring at your bare quim, your naughtiest brown hair, and your slickness. You lift your head up enough to see over your breasts and gaze right into Velora’s blue eyes.

  “Maybe you shouldn’t,” you say, detecting a hint of your own aroused musk beneath the smothering scent of Velora’s flowery perfume. She will be practically bathing in that smell! Your smell! You lower a hand to try to urge her to lift her face from between your thighs.

  Instead, Velora giggles, spreads your dewy folds with her fingers, and leans forward to slowly run her tongue from nearly your clenched anus to the throbbing bud of your clit. The hot, slippery lap of her tongue makes you gasp loudly and flop back on the bed. Her second lick and third seem to reach inside you even though her tongue remains near your clit. You feel a tightness building in your tummy. You realize it is that famous “heavenly moment” only as it is upon you.

  “Gods!” You cry, bucking your hips and brushing your quim against Velora’s mouth. Her tongue dips into your honeyed channel and your fingers twist in your blanket as pleasure roars through your body. The lightest touch of her lip against your clit is more powerful than her fingers. The hot slither of her tongue inside your channel is an ecstasy you never attained with your own hand, rubbing against a cushion, or riding on the back of a horse.

  Your orgasmic pleasure, sudden and sharp, somehow intensifies as Velora’s fingers return to the depths of your clutching cunt and she begins to suck at your clit. She draws your intimate folds into her mouth and her moans of satisfaction vibrate against your pulsing button. You arch hard on the bed and close your thighs around her head, squealing with wordless delight as her fingers claim you as thoroughly as any man might and her lips and tongue pleasure you far more than you had imagined possible.

  “By all of the gods… that,” you laugh, your eyes wide open. “Oh that is…”

  Your pleasure is finally spent against Velora’s fingers and mouth and you slowly relax back onto the bed. She gives you a last lick and her head rises from between your creamy thighs. Your juices glisten on her lips.

  “I don’t think I need to ask you if you enjoyed yourself, love,” she chuckles as she slowly strokes her fingers inside your fluttering quim.

  “It was sublime,” you laugh, feeling the flush in your face and spreading across your upper chest. “I’ve cum before, but not like that. Never… never like that.”

  “Oh, there’s more I could do,” she chuckles, slipping her fingers from inside you and climbing onto the bed.

  She kisses you softly, sharing the sweetness of your nectar on her lips and tongue. You have tasted yourself before, out of curiosity, but she spreads the taste throughout your mouth with her swirling tongue. Her warm body presses against you, exciting you all over again. Her shapely thigh is between your legs, pressing lightly against your quim.

  You gasp, finally breaking the kiss.

  “Do you, um, want me to do something to you?”

  “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want, sweetie,” says Velora, curling the white lock of your hair behind your ear. Her tongue traces the ridge of your ear and flicks at your earlobe, making you shudder with ticklish desire.

  You are not certain what exactly you would do with a beautiful woman like Velora, but you feel the sudden urge to try something. You have read quite a few books that cover the subject. Naiads, so-called “well wives,” in particular take lovers among human women. You’ve read lengthy descriptions of the lesbian habits of naiads by the monster cataloger Helena Brimsten. A few of those techniques might be useful for repaying Velora.

  If you can work up the courage to try them, that is. It seems harder than ever to even maintain eye-contact with the comely courtesan. When you look away from her glittering blue eyes, you only end up looking over her shoulder at her creamy white bottom, visible peaking from beneath the short hem of her dressing gown.

  “Don’t be shy,” she says, squeezing your hand. “I’m here for you, love.”

  Are you going to pleasure Velora?

  You're not ready to try pleasuring a woman

  Kiss her breasts and maybe more

  Use your fingers between her thighs

  Temptress for the Scylla

  The band ranges out of the fog in a wary line. Several women and men make up the column. Pilgrims you think at the sight of their dark robes and hooded faces. The foolish faithful come to pay homage to the monstrous thing which dwells deeper in the isle.

  You’ll see about that. There are far greater things to worship here.

  You brush your hand and the mists part. The group halts, momentarily stunned as you are unveiled. You stand before them on a smooth stone like a broken column, dressed in golden bands and bracelets. Utterly naked, your quim slick with arousal, your breasts swollen upon your chest with milk. Like some harem sorceress from the depths of time you spread out your arms, their attention fixed upon the spectacle that is you.

  “Stare!”

  The spell of compulsion radiates from you and washes over the pilgrims. They freeze, their eyes growing dull and glazed, pupils dilating as if in the grip of opiates.

  You lower your arms, smiling at them. “Come,” you say, beckoning them.

  As one they approach. You step down from the column. You’ve grown in power since becoming the new temptress for the Scylla. Whether it was for the young you’ve born for it or living within the musky fog which your glorious mistress exudes yo
u have changed.

  You turn and lead them into the mists. Your hips sway with every step, your golden ornaments jangling and ringing.

  Soon enough you reach the lake of your mistress. Here you stop and turn about. The pilgrims halt, their eyes as vague as ever. Then, the water churns. The surface of the lake swells and the Scylla rises from the deeps.

  Your devotion and the sacrifices you have brought to your mistress have been well received. Though the scylla’s elfin upper body remains the same, her lower half has grown tremendously. The lake shrinks visibly as the monstrous queen of the waters rises, her mass of tentacles writhing like a nest of black snakes.

  You bask beneath her might, then snap your fingers.

  The spell is broken. The pilgrims blink owlishly, then they get a good look at the Scylla. One screams. They turn to flee but it matters not. Tentacles lash out, plucking the screaming pilgrims from the shore, hauling them into the air where they struggle in the grasp of the tentacles.

  One of the women nearly manages to escape. She throws herself away from one of the writhing tentacles, scrambling for the path. But she forgot you. You hold your hand out to her and she freezes, arrested by a spell of holding.

  You saunter towards the girl and take her arm. You sit down on the mossy shore, drawing her down with you so that she rests in your lap, her head cushioned by your swollen breasts. “Look at it,” you say, directing her wide eyes towards the spectacle of the Scylla. “Isn’t it glorious?”

  She manages a moan of helpless horror as the tentacle limbs search the men and women in its grasp. They crawl beneath robes and tear the fabric away. Sliding over breasts and slipping over groins. Finding the slits of women and the shrunken cocks of the men.

  “Do you know?” you say with the tone of a lecturer. “Normally the Scylla is a predator of both kinds. Men and women. If it can’t find a woman in time, it will lay its eggs in the bowels of a man, though this method is less effective because it can’t fit as many eggs into one.”