Escape the Island of Eldritch Lust

by Amanda Clover

  As Kara is having her mouth fucked by one monstrous cock, the other is being pressed to the flushed channel of her cunt. The other sacrifice kneels between Kara’s toned thighs and thrusts the vicious-looking bulge of his cockhead into her tight quim.

  “Mmmmmmmmmphmmm!” She cries around the cock in her mouth, brow furrowing as both sacrifices move atop her, using her mouth and pussy in equal measure. You cannot help but notice that your sister has completely stopped resisting and seems to be enjoying having her face and her pussy plundered by the monstrous cocks.

  “She takes to it like any good whore,” says your mother. “Such is the glory of Zhibbareth. His power is irresistible.”

  It is true. You almost feel jealous of your sister being allowed to pleasure such glorious cocks. Your mother seems to sense your desire. She laughs and cradles you against her enormous breasts. Her milk trickles over your shoulders and her hot breath excites you in perverse ways as she whispers, “Watch, my love. It will not take long!”

  The sacrifices roar in almost simultaneous pleasure, their filthy black cocks jerking as they spew their unholy seed deep into your sister’s mouth and pussy. Kara blindly gulps at the cum pouring into her throat. She works her hips to impale her pussy as deeply as possible with each thrust from the other sacrifice’s cock. Her moans of pleasure are muffled on unholy cock.

  The real strangeness comes a moment later as you notice the black cum pouring like ink down your sister’s cheeks and dripping from her stuffed pussy. The huge cocks are still throbbing with release and the men attached to them seem to be shriveling. Yes, you are certain, their bodies are deflating, limbs rolling up like empty sleeves and heads sinking into hollow bodies. Black seed pours in a steady flow over the sides of the altar and drips into the pit. Your sister’s cries of ecstasy only seem to grow louder as both men deflate atop her until they are nothing but empty sacs attached to the roots of the two glistening black cocks.

  The emptied man between Kara’s thighs drops into the pit and the other drops lifelessly to the floor. His black cock slowly turns white and crumbles like desiccated fruit. Kara, her belly swollen enormously, lies gasping atop the altar, her mouth and cunt still drooling pitch black cum. Her head slowly turns in your direction, her eyes are wide and empty as she smiles and begins to say something.

  Instead of words, a stream of blackness spews forth from her mouth. An instant later, that blackness gushes from her filthy cunt. The twin geysers of unholy flesh and liquid begin to stream into the air, coalescing above the pit and growing larger and larger. Somehow, your sister’s belly is growing as well, even as she continues to spew out impossible amounts of the disgusting liquid.

  “He comes,” cries your mother, hugging you tightly as she points to the swirling blackness above the pit. With a grotesque rupturing sound, Kara explodes into a writhing black mass that joins the hideous flesh above the pit. A hideous red eye slowly opens in the center of the floating mass and focuses its gaze on you and your mother. Not even scraps of your sister remain on the altar.

  “Kneel,” says your mother. “Kneel before him.”

  You fall to your knees, tears streaming from both eyes as you cry in perfect unison with your mother, “All hail Zhibbareth! All hail the God of Monsters!”

  Tears roll steadily down your cheeks as you gaze upon the magnificent horror you have helped bring into this world. You have sacrificed your sister and embraced the total perversity of this rapacious god. You have begun your descent into madness.

  CONTINUE >

  Surrender

  You remember reading about the pleasure whip and even at the time thinking that it wasn’t a bad way to go. You even masturbated to the thought of all those vines tying you up like a kidnapped maiden and having their way with you. Now, confronted with the reality of the pleasure whip, you are struck by how nice that fate sounds. It would be lovely to just give yourself over to the pleasure that this sweet-smelling flower and its amorous vines offer to all who enter its reach.

  The vines in the courtyard begin to stir as if they smell your growing arousal. Your heart pounds in your chest and you breathe deeply of the perfumed atmosphere. Yes, offering yourself up to those vines would be wonderful. You could breathe as much of the flower’s sweet smell as you wanted and feel nothing but pleasure for the rest of your life. It would be a short life, sure, but you wouldn’t much care caught up in the binding vines of the pleasure whip.

  “Yesssss,” you moan, fingers already working to unbuckle your belt.

  Your weapons thump to the ground, followed by the much louder thud of your backpack dropping from your shoulders. The vibrations from the sound awaken more of the vines, which begin to rasp over one another and move in your direction. You step towards them, a dreamy smile on your face as you slide your dress down from your thighs and step out of it as it drops to the ground. You slip out of your panties and begin to take off your bodice, continuing closer to the sweetly-scented flower.

  Each inhalation elevates your mood further and makes your body burn with lust. You toss your bodice aside and at last reveal your breasts. You cradle their warm weight in your hands and play with your nipples as you step up to the flower and thrust your face into its cup. You inhale so wantonly that pollen tickles your nostrils. You quake with desire and push your hand between your thighs, squeezing three fingers into your steamy cunt. Your juices drip through your fingers and down your thighs.

  The vines coil over your feet and around your ankles. They have soft, brush-like tips that tickle you with their gentle touch as the vines begin to coil up your thighs. Several of them move towards the hot, wet channel of your pussy. You pull your fingers out so the vines can thrust into your hungry cunt. You cry out with ecstasy and throw your head back, surrendering fully to the pleasure as the vines push in and out of your aching body.

  “Oh, gods, I’m cummmming!” Your orgasmic cry is met with the soft rustle of leaves in the wind and the distant buzz of insects. You drop to your knees and fall forward onto your hands. You buck with pleasure, fucking back against the bundle of vines thrusting into your pussy. Your orgasm seems endless.

  The vines take full advantage of your new position. Some of those soft tips begin to screw into your clenched anus, others reach up from the stones to circle and squeeze your dangling breasts. The velvet-soft tips tickle against your straining nipples. You open your mouth to cry out with another peak of pleasure and your mouth is invaded by several vines. The soft tips push into your throat, stifling any sound except for a faint moan.

  You are still cumming, again and again, as the vines begin to bind your entire body. They coil around your waist and hips and tightly pull your arms against your body. You fall into a net of vines and more wrap around you. They continue to pleasure you even as the light of the world is shut out by a writhing sarcophagus of vines.

  You lose yourself in the warmth inside the pleasure whip’s vines. Time disappears as you are wracked by one orgasm after another, without ceasing. Your worries and thoughts drift away in a sweet-smelling cloud until the pleasure is all you really know. You moan faintly from within the constricting vines, your plentiful pleasure feeding the hungry plant.

  CONTINUE >

  Get the secret to defeating the goat

  These men disgust you and their talk about using you or their wives as baby factories is insane, but you cannot hold that against them. This entire island is plagued by madness. That these men have not attacked you immediately seems a small miracle. Maybe you can work with them. If Kara went the way of this so-called goat, you will have to face it anyway.

  The men continue to argue with one another until you hold up a hand.

  “I will save your women and defeat the goat,” you say. “Tell me what you know.”

  “He dwells in the black temple,” says the bartender. “It is in the woods on the nearby hill. That is where he keeps all our women.”

  “He takes the women we meet in town and turn into our wives, he takes our daughte
rs, and he makes more daughters,” says the old man.

  “He makes babies with them too I heard,” offers one of the men from the bar.

  Ew. There is an unpleasant thought. Whatever magic is controlling this island seems intent on quickly breeding as many monsters as possible. Almost as if someone or something is creating an army.

  “So he is in the black temple. How do I beat him?”

  “He will impose his will on ye,” says one of the men from the bar. “Makes you do whatever he wants unless you are real strong.”

  “His crown,” croaks the old man. “He has a crown on his head. Always. That’s the source of his power. Wait for the right opportunity and snatch if off his head and he will wither away.”

  “That’s foolishness,” says the bartender.

  “That won’t work,” says one of the men from the bar.

  The one-eyed old man is adamant. “You all is born from him. My father was a human. Got the curse after. My father told me the goat used to be a man, until he got that crown and put it on.”

  “Right. You don’t find a crown,” scoffs one of the men from the bar.

  They begin to argue vehemently about the crown and whether or not it is actually the source of the goat’s power. You are not certain who to believe, but you know these warped fools will have no better advice.

  “I will go and save your wives and daughters,” you say. “Or die trying.”

  “He won’t kill you,” says the old man. The others agree, “He’ll turn you into one of his brides.”

  “The goat will make babies with you, huntress.”

  Those words ring in your ears as you back out of the tavern and into the muddy street.

  You set off through the dismal village. Pale faces appear in broken windows and peer out from behind fences, but no one accosts you. The road leads you out of the town and up the nearest hill. You gaze up into the dark forest. You can feel the evil of the goat in the air as you approach the ominous woods.

  CONTINUE >

  Accept Luckfen's offer reluctantly

  You would rather not sell your body like some common whore and yet Bog's offer is enticing. You have no idea how much it will cost to hire a ship. With the zeks that the portly merchant is offering, perhaps you could even hire a safer ship and some men to help you on the island. Surely, in these circumstances, you can lessen the danger by braving the merely unpleasant.

  "Very well," you say. "For today at least, I will keep you... um... company."

  "Excellent!" He says, wiggling his fat fingers with delight and gives your leg a squeeze that sends a jolt of shame, apprehension, and lust through your body. At least this bloated merchant has a handsome, friendly face and a perfumed smell to him.

  It is not long before he has relocated himself to your side of the carriage. You shrink away from him but only whimper as his hand begins to fumble at your bodice. You moan softly as he squeezes your left breasts in his fat hand.

  "You are hiding these lovely things," he rasps. "I must see them."

  "Ohhhh," you moan with embarrassment as he unties your well-bound bodice and lets your plump mounds down. Your breasts are still pert in their youthfulness, your nipples straining visibly beneath your bra and your deep cleavage on full display.

  "My goodness," laughs the delighted merchant as he ogles your breasts. "I must be blessed by the gods."

  Your face burns with shame at being studied so intimately.

  "Mmmmmm nooo, please don't look at them like that," you cry, turning your gaze away to look out the carriage's window.

  This only seems to further inflame Bog's lust. He paws roughly at your breasts, reaching around you from behind to squeeze your breasts so hard through your bra that your areolas peek out of your dainty cups. He pants like a beast and curls his fingers into the soft fabric, dragging your bra down and exposing your jutting pink nipples and creamy white titflesh completely.

  "Ohhh, yes," he groans and begins kissing at your neck as his ringed fingers practically disappear into your ample breasts. His palms press against your sensitive nipples and you bite your lip to stifle a cry of pleasure. He presses against you, his straining cock apparent within his trousers and his lips smacking hotly against your neck and bare shoulder. He moans, "I must have you, my lovely girl. My cock aches for you."

  "Please, no, not like this," you cry out as his fingers pinch and stretch at your nipples. You can feel the heat growing between your thighs. You squirm against him.

  "My lovely sweetcake," moans the merchant, nibbling at your ear. "I crave your touch."

  "My touch?" You swallow your pride. "My touch. Yes, my hand. You may have that."

  "Mmmmmmm, anything," he groans, rubbing the bulge in his trousers against your hip.

  You turn to face him and are instantly smothered with a wet kiss. His tongue thrusts into your mouth, surprising you so much that for several seconds all you can do is try to press back against his tongue with yours. His hands are quite rough, kneading your breasts like two great mounds of bread dough as he tries to press your legs apart with his knee.

  Finally, you recover from the surprise of his kiss and manage to push him away.

  "Very well, Mr. Luckfen, I will give you my hand, but you must calm yourself," you cry. "You've nearly ripped my bra."

  "Yes, yes, well enough," he says with apparent irritation. But he backs off and allows you to remove your bra properly.

  You sigh as you slide your hand into his lap. He leans back more in the seat so his belly is not in the way of your touch. There is a certain hot thrill to deciding what you are going to do and then setting about doing it. You unbuckle his bejeweled belt and unfasten the pearly buttons of his trousers. His cock is more ample than you expected, thick and seemingly quite long, though you have little experience with such matters outside of books.

  You grasp him around the root of his cock, feeling the brush of his graying hairs and the heat of his arousal straining his shaft. The tip is fat compared to the shaft, with a tapered shape resembling a bell. There is a slight divot in the tip of his cock and in the center of this a slit that seems to be leaking fluid. Preseminal fluid, as you recall from some book you read on human sexuality.

  "Very soft hands," he groans, brushing your hair to the side so that he may kiss your shoulder and neck once more. "Stroke it, my lovely."

  "Of course," you say, trying not to laugh at the way his lips tickle against your neck.

  You begin to stroke your hand up and down his straining hardness, squeezing him in your grasp as you work your fingers over his cock and all the way up to the tip. A drop of the liquid wells at his cockhead and you spread it over his tip. There is a faint, musky smell from his manhood. He groans louder and bites lightly at your neck. His hands press your breasts together and he kisses his way lower, to your heaving bosom, to run his tongue over and around your nipples.

  "So beautiful," he moans, regarding your squeezed tits. "So much of you to appreciate."

  "Oohhh, do not speak of me like this," you cry.

  He sucks at your left nipple, eyes wide and staring up at you as he slurps and pops his lips lewdly around your tender bud. You cry out and almost forget to continue wanking his cock, but he reminds you with a thrust of his hips. He pops his lips free of one of your nipples and moves to the other, but not before declaring, "You could feed ten children with these lovely mounds."

  His licking and sucking becomes more insistent the more your stroke his cock. The fluid is continuing to leak out from his tip and slick his shaft. You spread it beneath your fingers and ease the movements of your hand on his hardness. The raunchy sound and smells of sex fill the carriage. Faster and faster you work his cock with your hand as the carriage jostles around you.

  "Yes, my sweet!" He cries out suddenly. "Oh, yes, my seed is boiling for you!"

  He turns his hips and aims his cock across your thighs as it pulses in your grasp. You are surprised by long, warm spurts of creamy white spunk that splash onto your skirt and even yo
ur bare tummy. He kisses you in the throes of his pleasure, driving his tongue wantonly into your mouth as he spurts out his cum onto your hand and dribbling down your leg.

  "Oh, that's a good girl," he gasps, finally falling back into his spot on the seat beside you. "I think we are going to have a very nice time traveling together."

  You clean up the mess he has made with several handkerchiefs he offers you. He watches as you mop at your leg, at the seat beside you, at your fingers and wrist, and even a few spots on your bare breasts where he managed to fling his seed. Your nipples are aching hard and jutting from your breasts. You feel a yearning to touch yourself, but you decide now is not the time for that. You pull on your bra, buckling it tight before lacing up your bodice.

  Bog fills a pipe with fragrant cherry tobacco.

  "I may just forget all about Velora with a lovely thing like you around," says the merchant before sparking his pipe. The rich, cherry-scented smoke fills the carriage. "There is something so much lovelier about a girl with little experience. I could tell you wanted more, but you held yourself back. I like that."

  You do not reply to him. You could deny his words, but he is right. You came very close to begging for his cock in your steamy quim. You are no virgin, but your few previous encounters were fumbling, adolescent things in dark bedrooms. Wanking a man's cum all over your skirt in daylight, for coins no less, is an entirely different experience. And what a nice cock, what a lovely thing to have in your sex.

  No! You mustn't think such things. This is no game, no pleasure ride through the countryside, you are on a mission to save your family.

  You have some more wine and settle into a relaxed ride with Boggen Luckfen. You converse at length with him about politics in the known world, play a game called Knaves and Knights using carved figurines, which you manage to win once you grasp the rules, play several hands of Assassin's Cups, which Bog wins easily, and enjoys a light lunch.