Escape the Island of Eldritch Lust

by Amanda Clover

  A path leads out from the temple and winds down the hillside towards the entrance to a foreboding cave. As you approach it, a foul, vegetable stench assaults your nostrils. Slime glistens on the stone near the entrance.

  Under any other circumstances, you would not enter. Under these circumstances, you have no choice. You light a candle from your pack and set off into the cave.

  CONTINUE >

  Parley

  The gertlings have succeeded in laying an ambush for you. One false move and those arrows the runts have knocked are going to pierce your breasts and if you manage to duck beneath them you are going to get brained by that big one with his stone-headed cudgel. But you aren’t willing to give up just yet. You recall from extensive reading on the subject of gertlings that they like to talk and that they are clever, but actually quite stupid.

  “Wait,” you cry, holding up your hands to show them you mean now harm. You take a slow step back. “Let us talk about this rather than fight each other. I am not your enemy.”

  “Not enemy?” The lanky goblin shrieks at you and jabbers at his cohort in his own language. “You look very much like enemy. Maybe fatter, but same white hair on head and same golden eyes. Golden eye woman killed many from tribe.”

  Of course, your sister or mother came through here, probably your sister since even these simple beasties noticed you are much rounder than Kara. She must have killed her way through their companions. So that leaves these four as the survivors.

  “Truly,” you say, taking another slow step back. “I am not the woman who came through here earlier. Did she have brown hair?”

  The lanky one chatters with his companions. The runts lower their aim.

  “No, you have brown and white.”

  “Did she have big breasts like these?” You ask, squeezing your tits and hefting them in your hands so they almost burst from your bodice.

  The brutish one with the cudgel licks its thin lips.

  “Small tits. Very nice. But woman not nice.” The lanky one gestures at the corpses in the road. “Tribe very weak now. We need make more babies. Gertling make with human very strong. We mate with you and make strong, strong babies.”

  “I am not going to have babies with you,” you laugh. The gertling looks offended and you quickly wipe the smile off your face. “B-but, wait, maybe, um, maybe there is some other way we can settle this.”

  The gertling leader raises a razor-thin eyebrow and then turns to his companions. They chatter back and forth for several seconds.

  “Okay, human,” says the gertling leader, stepping towards you and out into the open. “We open to bargain. You tell us. What you got?”

  He looks you up and down. His inhuman eyes and lecherous smile give you a cold chill. You imagine those spiderlike skinny fingers stroking your body or one of those black tongues in your mouth. It is clear these little beasties want sex.

  But you can think of another way to settle things.

  What do you do?

  Suggest a duel between you and the leader

  Offer to pleasure them all if they let you go

  Offer to pleasure the gertling leader

  Accept Luckfen’s offer reluctantly on day three

  Two days as Boggen Luckfen’s one-woman harem has not improved your morale. You are headed into what is likely to be the most dangerous ordeal of your life and you have been behaving like a camp whore. Despite your unhappiness with the situation, you cannot refuse the lure of 100 zeks for a single day’s work.

  “I will do it,” you say. “For 100 zeks. And you must promise to be gentle.”

  “As always, my sweet,” says Bog, flashing his wide smile. He stands up from his bench in the rocking carriage and he opens his robe. Your face flushes as he exposes himself to you, his cock rigid and jutting from beneath his round belly. “Now, I have been admiring your gorgeous tits all breakfast. I think I would like to put my cock between them.”

  You look away from him as he grunts and unties your robe. He pulls the sides open, free your plump and perky tits. He pinches both of your nipples, sending hard jolts of pleasure through your body. He lifts your tits by your tender buds and lets them settle back into place with a jiggle.

  “Look at those beauties,” he chuckles. “Oh, your body was built for mothering.”

  He reaches over to the table where you shared breakfast and picks up a dish of fresh olive oil for dipping bread. He steps closer, his cock almost slapping you in the neck as he thrusts his hips forward. He tips the dish of olive oil and the warm, slippery liquid spills over his cock and drips into your cleavage and all over your chest. You gasp at the sensation of the slippery liquid coating your heaving mounds. Bog smacks his hard cock against your oil-drizzled breasts.

  “Go on, dear, lie back a bit and wrap those lovely mounds around my prick.”

  You understand what he desires. You take your soft, oil-covered tits in your hands and press them together as you lean your head back on the bench. Bog sees the inviting squeeze of your tits and he thrusts forward, grazing the head of his cock against your fingers and titflesh. He puts one foot up on the bench as he guides his swollen, oiled fuckmeat to your pressed mounds.

  “Ohhhhhhh, that’s it, love,” he groans as he sinks his hard cock between your tits.

  He fucks between your mounds as you stare up at his fat belly nearly smacking you in the face each time he thrusts his cock. His dangling balls slap against your breasts and his cock prods complete through your cleavage to give you a plum pendant of glistening cockflesh with every stroke. You tuck your chin against your chest and flick out your tongue, lashing it against the head of his cock each time his hardness protrudes through your cleavage.

  “Yes, yes,” he pants, working himself into a fever pitch of thrusting. Your tits shake and the carriage seems to rock with each mighty thrust.

  “Ahhhhhh!” You cry, feeling the friction heat of his cock despite all that oil.

  “Soft… oohhh… heavenly… aaaaAAAH!” His thrusts slap against your squeezed mounds and suddenly his purples cockhead is gushing out warm, milky streams of seed. The first splashes your chin and you drop your head back as the remaining spurts form a warm necklace that dribbles down both sides of your throat and spills downward into your cleavage. His cockhead almost disappears beneath the puddle of his own cum. He gasps, “Oh, what a lovely pearl choker.”

  You release your squeezing tits and he wanks his cock a few times before slapping the tip against your mounds.

  “There you are, dear,” he chuckles. “Now put it in your mouth and clean it up.”

  “Yes, of course,” you murmur submissively and take his cum-smeared cock into your mouth. You clean him with your warm spit and your swirling tongue. He catches you play with your hand between your thighs as you suckle at his deflating cock.

  “You may pleasure yourself,” he says. “I would like to see that while I dress.”

  So while Boggen Luckfen is dressing in his many layers of finery, you sit on your bench, legs spread wide, fucking yourself with two fingers and while using your other hand to scoop up dollops of cum that have fallen into your cleavage. Your tits jiggle with each thrust of your fingers and you stare at Bog lustily as you bang your digits in and out of your tight, wet pussy. You gasp as you bring yourself to an intense orgasm. Your face burns with shame and pleasure in equal amounts as your nectar drips out of your quim and down your clenching asshole.

  “A lovely way to start the day,” remarks Bog, tying his necktie. “Dress comfortably, my dear, it will be a hot day today.”

  You choose a loose-fitting linen dressing gown that is almost transparent and a bodice to give yourself some modesty.

  At midday, the carriage arrives in a small settlement of silver miners and you get out of the carriage to walk around a bit. Bog buys you some sweets from a small stall and a rather pricy bottle of a fizzy wine.

  It is pleasant, but he was right about it being quite hot in the southeast reaches of Heimsvak. The carriage continue
s a bit further before stopping again at Bog’s insistence so that you can picnic beside a waterfall. The other men of the caravan grumble about the delay, but this is Bog’s caravan.

  After drinking too much mead (Bog saves the fizzy wine for some reason) you and Bog strip off your clothes and press together beneath the cool rush of the waterfall. His hand presses between your thighs and he chases you into a dark, humid grotto sealed off from the outside by the roaring falls. You are uncomfortable on your hands and knees on the slippery stones. Bog fondles your dangling breasts with one hand as he guides his hardness to your lust-slick cunt.

  Your head bounces drunkenly as the old merchant slams his cock in and out of your pussy.

  “Oh, to have you with me on every expedition,” he groans. “Your smile to start my morning and your plump ass to brighten my day.”

  He slaps your wet ass hard enough to make you yelp in surprise. He grips your hips with both hands and pounds your pussy quite roughly. His balls slapping against your clit add a drum of pleasure that shudders through your body and finally explodes into an intense orgasm. Your cunt muscles ripple and squeeze his surging cock.

  “I’ve always… thought of myself as a… bit of a painter,” he groans. “Only one color though!”

  He pulls his cock out of your fluttering pussy and wanks his purple prick over your jiggling ass. Hot spurts of seed fire all over your buttocks, warm cream covering the blushing handprints and dripping down the backs of your thighs.

  Your knees are sore and red, but at least the waterfall washes off the mess Bog made of your ass. You dress and return to the caravan. The gown clings to your damp body. Some of the drivers and outriders leer at you. Most of them seem to think of you more as a traveling whore at this point than a guest on the caravan.

  After playing a few card games with Bog, you relax into a long conversation about books. He brags that he has an extensive library himself at his residence in Jorna. It seems the fat old merchant buys rare books purely for the sake of owning rare and expensive things. He rattles off several titles that make you hot with envy, including the forbidden Ignatio Monstra, the most ancient and complete codex on monsters of the so-called demon realm.

  “You could come and have a look at my books,” he says. “Of course, that would mean postponing your journey.”

  “I cannot do that,” you say. “My mother and sister are counting on me.”

  He sits back on his bench, smoking his pipe. “Of course, family comes first.”

  As the afternoon becomes a sultry evening, Bog lights up another pipe of his cherry-scented tobacco and places a cushion at his feet. When he takes his cock out of his trousers, you know what you are expected to do. Your hand awakens his manhood, coaxing him to full hardness. You brush an errant strand of hair from your face and take his cock into your mouth.

  For several minutes the creaking carriage fills with your soft slurping, moaning, and the merchant’s increasingly heavy breathing. Yesterday, you had scarcely imagined performing this act and now it seems almost normal. You even enjoy the way his precum flows against your tongue and the soft groans he makes as you suck him faster. He rests a hand on the back of your head, lets out a bellow of pleasure, and pumps his cum into your mouth. You enjoy the hot flow as it spurts against your tongue and swallow it all with ease.

  Since you have been attending to Bog’s needs so frequently, you almost think you have escaped without being required to perform that one, final, humiliating act. It is well into the night when he finally dismisses that hopeful assumption. You are embellishing an illustration of a clamshell mantrap in your family’s codex from recollection of the Occulus Rancorous at the library in Akrane when Bog stands up with a grunt.

  “It is time to put the books aside, my sweet. Get your knees up on the bench and lift the back of your gown.”

  “What?”

  He mops a handkerchief across his sweaty brow and gives you a cross look.

  “I mean it. I am tired, but my cock is stiff. Show me your bare bottom, my sweet, so that I may feast upon it and drink bubbling wine from your crack. Then I will teach you what it feels like to be taken up your arse by a man with a thick cock.”

  “I am not certain… I mean… your cock is so thick. I do not think it will fit in my bottom.”

  “That is for me to decide,” says Bog, untying the string of his trousers and taking his pants down. His cock is only partly erect. He strips off his jacket and sweat-stained shirt as well, until he stands naked but for his furry chest and the many rings on his fingers. He begins to guide you with his hands. “Come on now, my sweet. Books away. That’s it. Good girl. Up you go, turn around. Yes, now turn around, yes, yes, just like that. Put your head down a bit more and lift your hips. Ohhhh, what a wonderful sight.”

  He slides your gown up from your thighs and over your bottom. Beneath the airy gown you are wearing nothing. He smacks your bottom with the flat of both hands, leaving throbbing handprints on your pale cheeks.

  “Please be gentle,” you yelp as he spanks your plump rear.

  He drops to his knees heavily behind you and a moment later his tongue is wedged into the crack of your ass. The thought that he would lick you there so vigorously is both shameful and exciting. The pleasure of his tongue rolling around the clenched pucker of your anus is undeniable. He darts the tip of his tongue past your squeezing ring and the slithering eel of his tongue invades your back passage.

  “Ahhhhhh! Don’t do that!” You cry.

  But Bog is just getting started. He cracks open the corked bottle of fizzy wine and presses his open mouth beneath your buttocks. He pours the bubbling liquid down your crack and it spills into his mouth, tickling your tender skin as it goes and fizzing against your clenched asshole. The wine spills out of his mouth and sloshes onto the floor of the carriage. He sucks wetly at your ass, slurping up the wine before thrusting his tongue roughly into your ass.

  “Oohhhhh!” You cry and arch your back to push your ass against his face. His tongue thrusts in and out of your most intimate hole. You cannot resisting reaching a hand between your thighs to pleasure yourself as the fat old merchant devours your ass.

  He gets drunkenly to his feet, steadying himself with one hand on your ass.

  “You’re ready,” he grunts. A moment later you feel the fat head of his cock pressing against your wet asshole. You have just enough time to suck in a breath and he thrusts. For a moment, you are certain his thick cock will not fit. The pressure overwhelms your clenching muscles and the purple plum of his cockhead pops past your pink ring and invades your ass.

  “Ahhhhhhhh!” The sensation is both painful and pleasurable. No fingers or tongue or toys could ever have prepared you for it. He drives deeper, his fat cock stretching your asshole as he thrusts into your tender pucker and mashes his balls against your fingers. It is a reminder to resume stroking your clit. Pleasure begins to overtake the discomfort and after a few more strokes you are no longer afraid that his cock will simply split you open.

  “That’s a good girl,” he groans, thrusting harder and faster into your ass. “So tight it feels as if you’re trying to pinch my cock off in your arse.”

  The sensation of fullness becomes pleasurable. Combined with your strumming fingers, you feel an orgasm rising with unexpected speed. It’s not quite fast enough to catch Bog, who begins humping roughly into your ass, nearly driving your head into the back of the bench. He pounds in and out of your tender pucker until his cock begins to throb.

  His strokes become slow, but powerful, thrusting to the root and firing hot spurts of his cum that you feel painting the inside of your ass. His thrusts take on a raunchy sound as his cum overflows your stretched ring and smears the piston of his cock. You fuck furiously against your fingers, enjoying the sensation of his cum-lubed cock working slowly in and out as you rock your hips and drive yourself over the edge.

  “Ahhhhhhhh!” You cry, whining with wordless pleasure as your orgasm ripples through your body. You are still cumm
ing as Bog slowly slides his cock out of your ass, leaving you dripping and pushing gobs of spunk out of your stretched hole. It is both the most humiliating and the most erotic thing you have ever experienced.

  “You were sent to me by the gods,” he murmurs, leaning heavily over you and kissing your shoulder. “Stay with me, my beauty. Stay by my side as I travel the world. I will lavish you with riches and drown you in wine. I will give you pleasure you can only imagine.”

  You curl into his arms and kiss him.

  His offer is tempting. The life he could provide you of pleasure and material comfort is like nothing you are likely to find on your journey to rescue your mother and sister. You love your family, but they have treated you as a tool to be used in their own exploits. With Boggen Luckfen, you might find and make a life all your own. And even if you do not succeed, he could make you so wealthy that you could buy a life.

  “What do you say, my sweet?” He asks, gazing into your eyes. “Join me on my journeys.”

  What do you do?

  Refuse to join Boggen Luckfen

  Agree to stay with him as his companion

  Accept Luckfen’s offer eagerly on day three

  “Of course, I accept,” you say with a laugh. “I appreciate the extra money as well.”

  “I thought you might,” he says, stroking his cock as he looks a bit smugly at you.

  “Well,” you say, taking a deep breath. “Would you like me to suck you?”

  “Please,” he says.

  He smiles with satisfaction and reclines on his bench, knees apart, cock sticking up obscenely from his parted robe. You slip your own robe off and crawl naked over to his side of the rocking carriage. You do not hesitate to suck him. You engulf his cock in your mouth and suck eagerly at him, playing with your breasts as your head bobs in his lap.