Escape the Island of Eldritch Lust

by Amanda Clover

  You marvel at Velora. Truly, she is a beauty, despite her sordid profession. Her rosy cheeks blush a little more and she flashes you her full-lipped smile.

  “Flattery will get you everywhere, Penny. Or at least on your back with my cock up your little quim!”

  She pushes you onto your back and you let out a squeal of laughter. She falls atop you, her body soft and warm. Her breasts cushion her weight against your mounds as she kisses you sweetly. Her lips part and her tongue lightly teases inside your mouth. You moan as you feel the hardness of her wooden cock rubbing between your inner thighs and brushing the hot, slick furrow of your downy sex.

  “Go slow, alright?” You gaze up into her green eyes. They seem to sparkle with amusement. “I have not had awfully many boys between my legs.”

  “Not awfully many? A pretty girl like you?” She gives your thigh a slap and pushes up onto her hands. Her breasts dangle against your mounds, her plump nipples rubbing gently back and forth.

  “Only two,” you whisper. “They were not much of men.”

  “You will find this toy is more than adequate,” she says, reaching down to guide it to your tender folds. “Unless you have a desire to be filled up with the slime they squirt out at the least provocation.”

  “No, I do not— MMmmmm!”

  She kisses you again, thrusting her tongue past your words and pushing her hips forward. The cock invades your slick channel, just thick enough to stretch you wider than your thumb. You cry out into Velora’s hot mouth as she sinks every bit of her wooden cock into your nearly-virgin quim. The pleasure is less than the shock, but as she pulls her hips back, the cock slides mostly out, rubbing its ridged and bumps along your clinging inner walls.

  “Ooooooh!” You gasp with pleasure. “It is stirring me up!”

  “I’ll stir you well,” laughs Velora, pressing her lips to your ear and gently nibbling at your earlobe. She begins to work her hips, pushing in and out of your slick cunt with obvious expertise. Every jerk of her shapely hips, every nip of her teeth or lash of her tongue, seems planned to give you pleasure. The cock plunges in and out, making you wetter by the moment, so wet that your juices overflow your quim like the nectar of an overripe peach.

  You wrap your pale legs around Velora, drawing her deeper and feeling the base of the cock, carved to resemble a man’s stones, presses against the divot of your anus. You whimper and squirm beneath Velora. She rises to her knees, towering above you like a conquering warrior. Her plump breasts are pale in contrast to her tanned arms and face. They sway up and down with each thrust of your hips, a fluid motion transferred to your own swaying mounds.

  “That’s it,” she hisses. “I know you like it, love. Go on. Cum for me. Nothin’ to be ashamed of.”

  It is not shame that is holding you back, only the selfish desire to make the pleasure last as long as possible. The wooden cock seems to vibrate inside of you with each stroke. The ridges thrum against your clit and the carved wooden tip massages your depths. Yours legs tighten around Velora. You arch beneath her, your breasts heaving and your mouth falling open in a wordless gasp of pleasure.

  That heavenly moment cannot be held at bay for eternity. You lift your head sharply, brow furrowed and a wail of pleasure finally finding her name, “Vellllooorrra!”

  “Yes,” she gasp. “Yes, cum for me, my sweet.”

  Her hips slap against you and the cum rams in and out of your velvet depths. Your pussy tightens around the toy and pleasure pounds through your arching body like a hand beating against the head of a drum. This is far beyond any fleeting pleasure you have felt before. Your whole body tenses and releases and the warmth bursts into fire inside you. With a last cry, you flop back onto the bed, shuddering with aftershocks of ecstasy.

  “Oh, my dear,” laughs Velora sweetly. She bends down and kisses your lips, teasing her tongue into your mouth. She draws her hips back and slides the toy out from your twitching pussy. You are still trying to catch your breath and Velora smothering you with her kiss is not helping.

  She rolls off of you, arching her butt off the bed to unstrap the cock from her hips. She tosses the toy aside.

  “That was… that was incredible,” you say, rolling onto your side to look at her. “Amazing.”

  “A Yidrish woman gave it to me,” she says. “She paid me to wear it once a week when I visited her in the merchant quarter. Quite a lovely woman, but she was run out of the city for trying to convince the Ishabbarian slaves to revolt.”

  “Good for her,” you say. The practice of slavery is illegal in the kingdom of Heimsvak, but wealthy merchants from Ishabbaria are permitted to bring their house slaves into Akrane. Ishabbarian spices, swords, and alchemical reagents are too valuable to allow a little thing like morality to stand in the way of commerce.

  “Shall we have another go?” Velora asks, walking her fingers up the hill of your right hip.

  “Oh, my, I think I must face my predicament,” you say with a smile. “No more luxuriating in your arms.”

  Velora pouts out her lower lip, but after a moment she sits up with her back against the wall.

  “Very well,” she sighs. “You were heading to Estermar?”

  “Yes, to find passage by ship across the Ilwent Sea.”

  “Well,” she brushes a stray lock of her long red hair away from her nipple. “I have a merchant friend who can take you to Estermar. Not so much a friend as a regular customer.”

  “Your customer can take me?” You raise an eyebrow in doubt.

  “I can convince Boggen Luckfen to do just about anything I want. He is a bit fat, has a wee prick, but he is insatiable, not to mention very rich. Those are things I can work with. I will go and see him tonight and arrange things on your behalf.” She rises from the bed and a glimpse of her plump bottom makes you long to have her return to the bed and perhaps sit upon your face. You reach out for her, but she is already walking over to her side of the flat. “You gather up your things and be ready to travel in the morning.”

  You watch her dress and begin gathering your clothing along with the equipment your sister sent you. An outfit of a loose skirt, a fitted bodice, and the hide coat seems well-suited to your ample physique. You wear the sword on your back and the pistols on your right hip. The family’s priceless codex of monsters represents your life’s work. You nestle it with spare clothes in your backpack alongside a small tin box containing ink and pens for any new discoveries. You add the alchemical potion Kara has sent you, careful to ensure no components might leak onto the codex.

  “I almost look like a proper monster hunter,” you say, admiring yourself in the mirror. Then you recall your lithe sister and your powerful mother and you feel diminished. No matter how well you wear the costume of a monster hunter, you are still just a scribe who has bested no monster more dangerous than a spider hiding among dusty books. Even those you usually scoop up and release to safety outside the library.

  You change into a comfortable and rather shapeless skirt and loose blouse for the road. If you will be traveling with this Boggen Luckfen, a randy customer of Velora’s, then you will need to be on your guard about his intentions. No good can come from giving him a glimpse of your ample cleavage, so you ensure the blouse is buttoned to your throat.

  You sit on the bed with your boots on, your backpack in your lap and your satchel of weapons, ready to go. And you sit. And you wait. And you sit. And finally, seemingly moments before dawn, Velora turns the key in the door and staggers into the flat. Even before she takes down the hood of her cloak you see how disheveled and exhausted she is.

  “Boggen Luckfen’s caravan is setting out for Estermar in one hour,” says Velora. “I have fucked him senseless and he has promised you passage in one of his freight wagons. You must go now and meet them at the eastern gate of Akrane.”

  You put on your backpack, noting uncomfortably how the straps frame your ample breasts in your blouse. Too late to worry about that. You heft your satchel full of weapons and head for the doo
r.

  “Thank you, Velora,” you say. “I will not forget this.”

  “You had better not,” she says and kisses you full on the lips. The force and passion of her kiss is both a surprise and a comfort to you. It centers you in the moment. “Luckfen has had enough of my quim to last him a week. Plenty of time for you to make it to Estermar. But you are a pretty girl, Penny, whether you realize it or not. He might take a liking to you, so stay out of his sight as much as possible.”

  “I understand,” you say, though you find it hard to imagine how you will both hide from this man and be his guest on the caravan.

  “I will see you again, Velora,” you say as you depart down the hall.

  “You had better,” she calls after you. “I need someone to pay half the rent.”

  CONTINUE >

  Hire Stormono

  The rude, drunken pig Orsen Castillo has not left you with much of a favorable impression. The fact that he is being pursued by his debtors does even less for your confidence. You snatch your map back from him.

  “Come on, we must go,” he says, reaching for your hand.

  You jerk your hand away from him. He gives you a desperate look and you grab a half-finished drink from the bar and splash it in his face.

  “Crazy whore!” He sputters, backing away from the bar. The thugs see the commotion and hurry over. Before they can grab Castillo, he rolls under their reach and races out the back door. The thugs give chase, leaving you standing next to a puddle of spilled ale and with no captain to take you into the Gyre.

  But there was a captain who offered to give you passage. He was mysterious, perhaps even sinister, but he did not insult you by calling you a whore. You look back over at the bald captain Stormono, who has been casually observing your exchange with Castillo with obvious amusement. He salutes you with his drink. You saunter back over to Stormono, trying to give him your sweetest smile.

  “I hope that offer to give me passage still stands,” you say, resting your hands on the back of the chair across from him.

  “Of course, my lady,” he says smoothly. He gestures to the seat. “Please, have a seat so that we might drink a toast to our arrangement.”

  He goes over to the bar and returns moments later with two dark glasses of wine.

  “Remulian Port,” he says, passing you a glass. “Sailor’s luck, they call it. The custom of men of the sea is to drink it with oysters, but somehow there are none fresh today.”

  “I do not care for them anyway,” you say, thinking about the awful feel in your throat of the muck clams you sampled at a restaurant in Akrane. Like gulping snot. You raise the glass of port. “I will drink to our luck though, Captain Stormono.”

  “Just ‘Stormono’ is fine,” says the man, smiling serenely. “I am no better than any others on the crew of my ship.”

  “Such an egalitarian!” You exclaim, surprised by his philosophical position.

  “The sea demands respect, so I respect the men who travel her with me. Dark Heart has the finest crew in all the seas. We’ll get you to where you belong.” He raises his glass to toast. “To safe journeys and new friends.”

  “Safe journeys and new friends!” You clink your glass to his and gulp the strong, sweet wine. He locks eyes with you as you are drinking and you feel compelled to drain your glass as he is doing. The warmth of the port goes straight to your belly, spreading relaxing tendrils through your body and making your head a bit hazy.

  “Well, that was bracing,” says Stormono, clapping his hands on the table. “Shall we go to my ship and make ready to sail?”

  “Y-yes, of course,” you say, feeling a bit woozy. “Will, um, I have a cabin on your ship?”

  “I will certainly find a place for you to lie down,” he says, taking your arm as you stagger towards the door. You are glad for Stormono’s steadying hand as the port seems to have had a much greater and more immediate effect on you than anticipated. You follow the narrow alleyways to the pier, where a low-slung, three-masted galleon rests against the pier.

  Stormono calls out in a language you do not recognize and a swarthy crewman lowers the gangplank. You nearly lose your balance and keel over into the water. Stormono pulls you to safety. He says, “Careful, my dear. We wouldn’t want that to happen.”

  “T-thank you,” you stammer, feeling as if you might fall down at any moment. “I think I had… a bit too much of that wine.”

  “Of course, of course,” says Stormono, taking a lantern from one of his crewmen and leading you to a grim, house-like structure. He opens a door and leads you down the narrow stairs and into the dark bowels of the ship. You feel as if you are descending into hell and you see things that you think might not be real, red-faced men dancing by torchlight and naked women fornicating among barrels of rum.

  Stormono takes you down to the very bottom deck of the ship and uses a key around his neck to unlock a large door. You see pale figures in the light of the lantern. They seem beautiful one moment, wide-eyed and fearful, and ugly the next as your head swims drunkenly. Stormono uses his key to unlock another door and ushers you into a tiny room with a small bed. There are shackles and chains hanging from the wall. You sit down on the rather dirty mattress stuffed with straw.

  “Here you go, my dear,” say Stormono. “I will take your bag and your map and plot a course for our journey.”

  “Should go with you,” you say, trying to stand up again.

  “Oh, no, you should remain here, Penelope. By the time you awaken, we will be well on our way.”

  He leaves, closing the door behind him. There is a click as the lock shuts and a pang of fear that permeates your drunken haze. This does not seem right at all, you think as you slip off to darkness.

  You awaken and the ship is underway. You see a cup of water and a crust of bread on the floor. You eat it and drink the water, which has a strange tang to it. Almost immediately, you realize the water must be drugged. Then a sense of euphoria works through your body and you no longer care at all. You idly finger the manacles hanging from the wall and laugh about the way a roly-poly bug on the floor rolls back and forth with the swaying of the ship. You hear a woman’s voice. She’s asking you something. Something about where you came from.

  “Akrane,” you say. “I came from Akrane.”

  The woman curses, calling you something in a foreign language.

  “What port?” She demands.

  You don’t know how to answer. You giggle and stretch on the dingy bed. The drug works more powerfully, giving you warm waves of pleasure that make you laugh or make you aroused and sometimes both at the same time.

  Time passes, hours, maybe days. You are naked and being washed. Warm water spills over your bare breasts. A rough hand squeezes your mound and you coo softly. You realize you are completely naked and someone is changing the cloth cover on your bed. It smells like urine, but another bucket of water is dumped over you and washes the odor away.

  “When she’s clean,” says a man’s rough voice. “We should fuck her.”

  You lift your head slightly and realize two men are handling you. One is swarthy and the other pale and scarred. Both men are heavily tattooed and look like gutter thugs. The pale one slides a bony hand between your thighs. All you can do is mewl with lust, spreading your legs wider.

  “Look, she wants it,” says the pale man.

  “Stupid kitja, ‘course she wants it, she been on the good milk for days. But you fuck her, Stormono will cut off your cock. Pregnant whores are no good for them sand kings. They like girls clean as possible.”

  “How would Stormono know it was me that fucked her?” Asks the pale one, shoving two fingers into your cunt. He wiggles his fingers inside you. “Mmmm, she’s even wet for us. Let’s do her. Then we’ll blame it on one of the mutes.”

  “Mutes is eunuchs,” replies the swarthy man. “You right though. She is fit. Let’s use her pretty mouth.”

  Something is shoved into your mouth, warm and hard. You lick it, tasting foul, salty
sweat. It moves in and out between your lips. You realize it’s a man’s penis. The pale man’s. You think that’s funny in your drugged state and you begin to suck at it. Before long, he grunts, pulls it out of your mouth and squirts warm, thick liquid all over your face and breasts.

  His friend comes over next and pushes his cock into your mouth too. You look up at him, your eyes rolling around drunkenly as you try to focus, moaning around him as he fucks between your lips. He cums in your mouth and you swallow it. He leaves his cock in your mouth until it goes soft.

  “She’s still sucking it,” laughs the swarthy man. “I could stay like this all day.”

  “If she gets hungry she might bite it off,” warns the pale man.

  That ends the fun and he draws his cock out of your mouth. Another bucket of water washes the mess away. They give you bread and a large drink of water.

  “Thanks,” you manage to mutter, drinking the water with the strange tang.

  “Yeh,” laughs the pale one. “We be back, beautiful. You thank us then.”

  The next time they return, and the times after that, you are too lost in the haze of the drugs to even notice what they do to you.

  CONTINUE >

  Tell her to cum inside you

  The curse of the island be damned! This feels too incredible!

  “Yessss,” you moan, wrapping your legs tightly around her soft hips. You moan with ecstasy, “Cum inside me! Fill me with your seed!”

  Another orgasm explodes within you as you speak your perverse desire. The protean burbles with happiness and rams her huge cock in and out of your slippery channel even harder. Your whole body is shuddering and shaking like so much more jelly in the embrace of her slime girls. Their cooing, gelatinous bodies quiver all around you.

  “Yes,” gasps the protean, her cock swelling within you. “Yes! You will be mine!”

  “Oh, gods, yes,” you cry, absolutely surrendering to the pleasure of her huge cock. Your pussy clenches tightly against her throbbing shaft and you can feel her soft tip prodding your womb. The jade protean throws back her head and howls with pleasure. It becomes a chorus as the slime girls supporting you mimic her inhuman wail of ecstasy. Her huge cock jerks inside you. It jerks again and you feel a sudden gush of fluid deep into your cunt. The warm, thick liquid overflows your stuffed pussy and spurts across your thighs and drips from the crack of your ass.