Escape the Island of Eldritch Lust

by Amanda Clover

  Your face grows hot as soon as you have admitted your desire. Alyssa’s naughty smile spreads.

  “I knew you were a good girl, Penelope,” laughs Alyssa. “I was only teasing. You are so sweet and innocent despite that lovely body that I am certain attracts the attention of men.”

  “I don’t want men,” you say.

  “No, of course not, you want me, don’t you?” Her soft laugh turns the question into a statement. “Come here then, Penelope. Give me a kiss.”

  She beckons you with a finger. You approach her, your body and face hot with desire, your heart pounding in your chest at the thought of how she could drink more of your essence with this kiss. Alyssa curls a hand around the back of your head as you draw near, another hand on your hip, and she pulls you firmly against her warm body. Your breasts squeeze against hers and she holds your head tight and gives you a kiss on the lips.

  Any resistance to her dominant kiss melts the moment her lips make contact. You gasp against her lips and her tongue invades your mouth, hot and sweet. You kiss her back, pressing your lips wantonly to her and allowing your tongue to wrestle against the nimble serpent of Alyssa’s tongue.

  You are mesmerized by that tongue slithering in your mouth and tasting every corner. You submit to it and stop fighting against her as she holds you tightly in the embrace. It is as if she wants you to know how easily she could take your essence with her kiss.

  Alyssa pulls your hair and breaks the kiss, leaving you gasping with desire. You flutter your lashes as you look up once more into her violet eyes. Your tongue flicks out to taste her sweet mouth lingering on your lips.

  “Your mouth is hungry,” whispers Alyssa, caressing your cheek and running her thumb over your lips. “Get down on your knees then, huntress. I have something else for your mouth.”

  “Y-yes,” you moan gratefully, sinking to your knees and running your hands from her sides, down her hips, and stroking her shapely thighs. You gaze up at the promontory of her breasts above you, slowly looking down her firm tummy to the curves of her hips and the glistening flower of her cunt. She curls her fingers in your hair and guides you gently to her perfumed sex. You kiss her soft thighs and hiss with desire as your lips brush against her sweet pussy.

  “Yessss, that’s it, Penelope,” she says, gazing down at you over her creamy lavender-tinted mounds. “Let your tongue taste the nectar of a succubus. There is nothing sweeter.”

  “Oh, yes, mistress,” you moan, trembling with lust as your lips press against her folds and you slip your tongue along the hot, slick opening of her pussy. You dip beyond her out lips and taste the nectar that gathers at her even more delicate inner folds. Her nectar is incredibly sweet, almost like honey, but tinged with a spice that tingles upon your tongue. You thrust your tongue deeper, into the exquisite heat of her channel, coating it with more of her slick nectar.

  “Mmmm, that’s good,” murmurs Alyssa, thrusting her hips lightly. “But you must lick, not simply thrust. My clit is the center of my pleasure. And you want to pleasure me, right, Penelope?”

  “Oh, yes, mistress,” you moan, suddenly wanting nothing more in all the world than to pleasure Alyssa. You steady yourself with your hands on her thighs as you lap eagerly at her hot quim. Your tongue slips over and between her hot folds and you seek out the pronounced bud of her clit. You flick it with your tongue, moaning lustily as her juices spill into your mouth and down your chin.

  Alyssa combs the fingers of both hands into your chestnut hair and pulls you firmly against her cunt. She rolls her hips, grinding softly against your tongue and face.

  “Ohhhh, now you have it! You’ve hunted it down! Ohhhhh, my, yes, Penelope. Suck my clit, you good little girl!”

  “Mmmm!” You suck her clit with enthusiasm. You lick when she demands you to lick and you suck when she demands you to suck. You reach around and hold her luscious ass, squeezing her shapely flesh and pulling her against your face. You want her to smother you with her sweet pussy. You want to drown in her cum.

  “YES!” She cries, bucking against your mouth. “Oh, yes, I’m cumming!”

  Her juices pour in a torrent, dripping from your chin in a hot, sweet, perfumed flow that splashes your heaving breasts. She jerks her hips, fucking against your tongue and slithering her hot folds all over your chin, mouth, and nose. She arches her back and squeezes your face with her thighs. The tension seems to ease from her body. Alyssa lets out two deep gasps and releases her tight grip on your hair. You slowly lift your face from between her cum-slicked thighs.

  “Are you pleased, mistress?” You ask, softly kissing her thighs and up to her toned tummy.

  “Ohh, yes,” she says as she pets your head. “But I am not finished with you yet, Penelope. I need to be worshipped by you.”

  “Yessss,” you hiss, squirming with desire and caressing her lovely hips.

  She flicks her wrist and produces a golden coin in one hand. She rolls it backs and forth over her fingers and holds it up for you to see.

  “Heads or tails, my dear?” She asks, poising the coin to flip it.

  “What?”

  “Heads or tails, Penelope? Which do you prefer?”

  She flicks the gleaming coin up and catches it in her hand. You are not exactly sure what she means, but she looks at you expectantly with an eyebrow raised.

  What is your call?

  "Heads"

  "Tails"

  Breed

  Wrapped in the womb-like comfort of the crimson brothel and confronted with the exquisite beauty of the succubus, you feel a deep and unexpected yearning for something much more than pleasure. This is a place of comfort and though some creatures you have met have been beguiling in their way, none could approach the beauty of the succubus. You smile and experience a sudden giddiness at the realization that this demoness is who you desire for your mate. This place, far away from the island, is where you wish to stay.

  “Breed me, succubus,” you say, unable to restrain your joy. “I know you demons have certain powers… can you breed me? Can you make me yours?”

  “Ah, an interesting request, herald!” Alyssa claps her hands together. “I have the power and it is an exciting opportunity. It is not often a woman presents her womb. But you know that our daughter will be a half-demon. Does this not bother you?”

  You snatch her hands and pull them to your chest. “I can think of nothing better! Please, Alyssa, breed me!”

  You feel almost intoxicated by your abject surrender to the thought of being bred by the succubus. Alyssa dismisses her guards and slave girls and stands alone with you in the crimson parlor. She pulls you into a tender embrace, stroking your hair and planting a soft kiss upon your lips.

  “Of course I will, my sweet Penelope,” she murmurs, her kiss spicy, sweet, and her lips incredibly luscious. “I do not think the Great One will continue to favor you if you remain here with me, but I will shelter you from him.”

  “Oh, yes,” you cry, trembling with desire. “I want to stay with you, Alyssa. It’s so warm and wonderful here. Your kiss… it is…”

  “Many men – and women – haven’t written poems about my kiss,” she says. “Now it is yours to have whenever you desire, my lovely huntress, my golden eyed doe. You will be safe in my arms.”

  You swoon, moaning softly, and she holds you with her strong demonic embrace. Her leathery wings fold around you, supporting you almost like a hammock as she kisses you again and again, stoking your desire and sliding her nimble tongue into your mouth. Pleasure radiates from the kiss like your lips and tongue are erogenous in a way you have never experienced. This is the kiss of a succubus, you realize. It is the stimulating magic of her touch.

  Alyssa continues to probe between your lips with her nimble tongue as her fingers help you shed the weight of your pack, drop your sword belt, and slip out of your heavy leather jacket. Her kisses move to your neck as her hands caress your breasts through your bodice. She unwinds the laces with ease and loosens the bodice until she can pu
ll it away from your breasts. She pulls back to admire your ample mounds as she frees of them of your bra. The soft cups fall away, exposing your pale titflesh and your aroused, pink nipples.

  “So lovely,” she hisses, dipping her face to your breasts and warming you with her lips. Her tongue flicks at one tender bud and then the other, her fingers toy with your glistening nipples as her kiss moves down your hitching belly and the succubus lowers herself to a crouch. The skirt drops down your thighs and she plucks at your damp panties with her teeth.

  “Ohhhh, Alyssa,” you moan, stroking the ridges of her curling horns as you watch her pluck your panties down with her immaculate bite. The glow of the mark on your mound seems to have dimmed, perhaps by the same means that your mother has been shut out of your mind, but your cunt could not be more aroused by the succubus. Your juices drip from your glistening folds and she spreads your sex with her deft fingers. You cry out, steadying yourself on her shoulders as her hot kiss moves from your thighs to your trembling vulva. She lashes your clit with her tongue and almost at once you are sent over the edge.

  “Godddddssss!” You cry loudly, thighs trembling as waves of pleasure radiate from your clit.

  “Nnnnnhnnnnn,” she smiles as she licks you, pulling away to observe, “You’re not a very good herald for the Great One if you call out to other gods.”

  “I have already forgotten about him,” you admit. “Only… oohhhh…”

  Your efforts to pay Alyssa a compliment are interrupted by another wave of pleasure as her tongue once again assails your clit.

  It is not only the push of her fingers in and out of your channel and the hot flick of her tongue on your most sensitive bud, it is also the sinister beauty of her crouching before you. Over her shoulder you can see the lavender-tinted heart of her bottom, her flicking purple tail, and her pale breasts heaving and nearly bursting from her corseted top. Her curling horns provide double handles for you to hold her head. Her leathery wings fold and flex with excitement as she pleasures you thoroughly.

  You never see Alyssa form the cock, but as she stands and slips her crimson panties down her thighs, she reveals a lovely length of rigid manhood. Thought it is quite large, it is also delicate and strangely feminine. It is somehow exactly as a cock attached to a stunningly beautiful woman should look, slightly curved and darkening from pale lavender to swollen purple at the tip.

  “Do you like it?” She asks, stroking it slowly from the base to the straining head.

  “Oh, it’s beautiful!” You cry. “Please, Alyssa, I need it!”

  “Yes,” she agrees, pushing you back to one of the couches in the parlor. “You do need it, Penelope.”

  She pushes you to the soft cushions and with a flick of her fingers her remaining clothing, except for her high-heeled boots, disappears from her impossibly perfect body. Her breasts are round and very large, yet perfectly perky, as if ungoverned by the rules that might make them droop. Her areolas are wide and her nipples are large, but so pale that the slightly darker lavender color almost fades into her lavender tinted breasts. You gaze up at her, your own breasts heaving with excitement and your heart hammering as she sinks to her knees between your parted thighs.

  “Have you had a man before?” She asks, teasing her tip against your entrance. She answers for herself, “Yes, by the way you move, I know you have.”

  “Not… ooooh… not many,” you gasp, lifting your head to watch as the pleasure saws through you with each rub of her rigid cock. She angles the tip slightly lower and it parts your slick folds, stretching you as she gently eases her curved cock into your aching cunt. You begin to cum the moment she sheaths the full length of her cock in your pussy. “Ohhhhhh! Alyssaaaa!”

  You buck beneath her, thrusting yourself onto her cock and wrapping your legs around her to pull her deeper. You lace your arms around her slender neck and lean up as she leans down. Her breasts press against your, squeezing tightly between you as she begins to hammer her cock into your fluttering tunnel. Each stroke sends ripples of pleasure through your body. Your inner walls clutch and cling to her cock on each backstroke. She bends her lips to yours and kisses you passionately. Her tongue invades your mouth, stifling your mad pleasure as you cum again and again and again.

  “Cum inside me,” you manage to gasp. “Fill me with your seed. Breed me! Oh! Alyssa, please!”

  “Are you certain?” She asks, gazing into your eyes and taking you with forceful strokes.

  “Yes! I need to be bred!” You arch beneath her, squeezing her tight with your legs and urging her still deeper. You wail with ecstasy, your orgasm reaching a new peak as you feel her cock stiffen inside you and begin to throb. The hot spurt of her demonic seed into your fertile pussy does not suffer with the curse of the island, but you are filled with joy and adoration all the same. In the moment of her orgasm, she kisses you and seems to draw some of your essence into her mouth.

  You know from reading the legends of succubae that she is feasting upon your life force. Alyssa only takes a little, leaving you gasping and flood with her demonic seed. You gaze up at her lovingly as her cock slides out of your creamy quim.

  “Oh, Alyssa,” you moan, reaching up you stroke her cheek. “I can feel it inside me. It is already growing.”

  She chuckles as she pulls you into her arms in a tender embrace.

  “Your power and mine mingle within your womb,” she purrs, stroking the white lock of hair from your face. “A new power, a huntress and a succubus combining their blood to create something this world has never seen before.”

  “The Great One be damned,” you say, holding her tightly and kissing her luscious lips. By the time the embrace has ended, the symbol on your mound has disappeared completely. But that does not matter; you have been marked by a far more wonderful power.

  CONTINUE >

  Magic

  Revulsion fills you, as does determination. You shout a bloody word of power, a spell of giant’s strength. A favorite of the barbarous warriors of the eastern steppes. Strength suffuses your limbs and power pulses through you. You rise, your blood boiling with anger and with pleasure. But you are the master of your body! It is not for this pitiful creature to use. You grab the leather strap about your shoulder and rip it free. “Augh!” you cry, the mimic’s skin ripping away, leaving in its wake a bright red welt.

  “You bastard!” you snarl, flinging away the twitching limb of leather. You grab the plate which welds itself against your groin and pull. Your muscles stand out along your arms, glowing and crackling with the enhancing magic. The Mimic, at last sensing the danger, clings to your cunt in desperation, sending throbbing pulses of pleasure radiating through your legs in a frantic effort to break you.

  “Oh that’s it. Keep it coming you stupid little thing!” you snarl. “Give me all. You! Got!”

  With a final cry you tear the piece of steel from your mons, snapping leather and rending metal. The pain of the separation elicits a scream from you. “Ahhh! Son of a whore that hurt!” you bellow.

  The piece of monstrous steel in your hand flails a long tendril, twisted like a blunt screw. The device which had been so recently buried in your cunt. You breathe heavily and hurl the thing at the wall. Snarling like an animal, you rip the fractured leather limbs which continue to cling to you. Whenever you pull one free it frantically tries to grasp at you but you toss them away to different parts of the room. Grasping the long strip which still attempts to fuse to your spine you rip it free and drop it before stomping on it, grinding the twitching leather beneath your naked heel.

  Soon only the breastplate remains. The yellow eye which is fixed to the top rolls in agony. Pleasure shoots like fingers of electricity through your nerves as it frantically assails your nipples. You smile down at it, nostrils flaring like a bull’s.

  “Nice try,” you tell the mimic, grasping the plates which bind your breasts. “But I don’t need you.”

  The mimic’s eye quavers as you pull. It tries to hold on but it’s too little too l
ate. With a final shout you rip the mimic off your breasts, sending your immense mammaries bouncing on your chest. “Did you think you could break me that easily?” You laugh riotously and grasp the mimic’s eye between your thumb and forefinger. Terror dilates the dark pupil. You merely smile, and squeeze.

  The eye pops like a pimple. What remains of the mimic’s tattered leather limbs go slack, limp and useless. Contemptuously you toss it into the corner with the rest of the monster’s remains.

  You breathe out, slowly. The overwhelming strength of the spell begins to bleed out of you. You seem to shrink in stature, feeling the weight of your own skin and the trembling exertion of the battle. You look about the room at where the remains of the mimic lie scattered about. Tilting back your head you spot the girdle with its corkscrew cock hanging off a chandelier like derelict seaweed.

  “W…wow,” you gasp, a little surprised at yourself. You catch yourself after a moment, standing naked as the day you were born in the middle of the tower.

  Yet you have no shame in it. Why should you feel anything but pride about your body? You recall the feeling of might of the spell, spiced by the ecstasy of pleasure that the mimic inflicted on you, even as you broke it in your hands. Your skin warms and a blush crimsons your cheeks. Giggling a little, you quickly gather up your discarded clothes and dress. Already you feel the red welts of the mimic’s grasp fading across your body. By the time you’re dressed you don’t even feel them.

  “Mmm,” you purr contentedly as you walk out the door. “Power. The ultimate aphrodisiac.”

  You depart from the black tower and renew your journey through the twisted landscape of Ctharne. The cloying fog has returned in the weak morning light and each breath of the mist warms your body with perverse desires. You marvel at the difference you feel in each step. You stride more easily and your pack and equipment seem to be little burden. The fear you felt before, as if a monster might leap out at you from behind every rock, has subsided.