Escape the Island of Eldritch Lust

by Amanda Clover

  Her childlike giggle is all the more chilling because of the monstrous immensity of her. She glides right up to you and cradles your cheek with a gelatinous hand. You look at her face and see the light on the far wall pulsing through her translucent likeness of your mother. She could envelop you and swallow you up, but she chooses to caress you. She leans closer and burbles with delight as her cool, wet lips brush against yours. Wherever she touches your bare skin, her stinging cells flood your body with warmth and desire. This is the nature of a protean’s venom. You would cast yourself willingly into her slime or lie still and let her swallow you up.

  She kisses you and parts your lips with a sweet-tasting tongue of slime. That one taste of her forbidden, blasphemous kiss is all it takes for your body to welcome her touch. As her hands cradle your face, your hands caress her soft hips, your fingers gently pushing into you’re her body and her erotic warmth saturating your touch. The protean’s tendrils undress you as you kiss her. They slip off your backpack, take your weapons, and strip you out of your jacket. You move your body to help them, eager to be free of your clothing.

  “We will be together forever,” murmurs another voice.

  You break the kiss and turn to see another likeness of your mother, gelatinous breasts jiggling, hands reaching under your blouse to fondle your naked flesh. A third slime rendering of your mother approaches from the other side and they crowd around you, taking turns kissing you and stripping off your underwear. One of them begins licking and sucking at your nipples, faces and mouths forming as needed to pleasure you. Another presses her slimy hand between your thighs and begins pumping her gelatinous fingers into your pussy.

  You arch your body in the perverse embrace of the humanoid slimes, feeling their caress explore every bit of your naked flesh. They carry you to the mound of protean flesh where the men and women are being pleasured.

  “You want to be with us forever, don’t you, Penelope?” One of the slime girls coos.

  “Yes,” you cry as an orgasm rises within you. They kiss you and caress you and fondle you and lick you with their gelatinous bodies, slowly enveloping you in their legs and breasts. Even immersed in the slime you can feel them fucking in and out of your pussy and stretched anus. It feels so good. As wonderful as the rhythmic suction on your nipples. You kiss one the slimes and her tongue grows thicker in your mouth. It pushes down your throat and you moan around it as you cum again and again.

  At the height of your pleasure you feel the slime inside you gushing out something warmer and thicker than before. A new sense of contentment overwhelms any lingering doubts. You have found a new purpose within the slime as your body becomes a host to the protean’s reproductive urges.

  CONTINUE >

  Accept the tiny old man’s offer

  You’ve never been an intimidating sort of person, so even threatening to squish little mouse-sized naked men seems too cruel. The easiest way to get the answers you need seems to be to just give this little pervert what he wants.

  “Alright old man, come here and I’ll give you what you want.” You lower your hand to the counter with your palm up. The others look on with a mixture of jealousy and fear as the old man hobbles onto your hand. He is almost weightless as you lift him up and gently drop him into the soft, deep valley of your cleavage.

  “Ohhhh!” He cries as he drops the few inches into your blouse and lands against the inner curves of your breasts. He nearly bounces back out of your top, but catches himself on your neckline. A silly look comes over his tiny face. He laughs with glee and dives headfirst deeper into your cleavage.

  “Careful now, if you fall… ohhh! Oh my!” He is the size of a mouse and behaving like one, scurrying around inside your blouse, crawling over your breasts and finally plunging into your bra. Your eyes widen as you feel him wrap his tiny arms around one of your nipples. He rubbing and wiggling against your sensitive right nipple, eliciting a surprised gasp of pleasure from you. You laugh and pull out the neck of your shirt to peer down into your blouse. “What are you… ooohhh… doing in there?”

  He gives you some sort of answer, but he is so small and so smothered inside your bra that you can’t make out what the tiny old man is shouting. Then again, it doesn’t really matter. You gasp with pleasure at the rubbing against your nipple and stagger back to one of the seats. Whatever he is doing to your nipple feels so good, like too moist fingers gently plucking and twisting at your nipple.

  You cry out with pleasure. The three tiny men on the counter look on in awe as you drop heavily onto one of the stools, your tits jiggling and the tiny old man nearly bouncing out of your bra. He scurries into your other cup and begins an equal assault on your left nipple.

  It feels so good that you can’t help yourself. You raise your skirt up and put one boot up on the counter. The three tiny men creep to the edge of the bar top and watch as you plunge your fingers into your panties and begin gasping and fucking yourself with your fingers.

  You are so lost in the sensations of the tiny old man wriggling in your bra and your fingers working in your panties that you are startled when you feel something on your leg. You nearly kick out, which would have had disastrous consequences for the tiny daredevil crawling along your shin. You gasp in shock as he climbs over your knee and leaps onto your silky thigh. He capers with delight and slides down your leg to land softly against the edge of your panties.

  “What are you doing?” You moan.

  “See you in a bit!” He shouts and dives under the edge of your panties. A moment later, he presses beneath your fingers and begins wriggling and rubbing against your clit. It feels as if he has his whole mouth around your bid and is kicking his legs and thrusting his hips against your quim. You extract your fingers from your panties and look on in amazement as the tiny human figure stretches your panties.

  The man is soon joined by another, sharing your panties, but crawling lower. You gasp again, shuddering with pleasure as you feel a tiny man squirming at your buttocks and wriggling against your anus. You lean back more on the stool, trying to be careful not squish the tiny tickler under your bottom.

  The last man, clearly the most timid, looks on from the edge of the bar. You can just make out his tiny hand wanking his tiny cock. You stretch out your hand and scoop him up, holding him with a finger under one of his arms and a thumb under the other. You bring him close to your face.

  “Don’t eat me!” The tiny man cries.

  “Ohhhh,” you moan, shuddering with pleasure, “I think you might like it.”

  You part your lips and extend your tongue. He wriggles with horror, right up until the flat of your warm, wet tongue presses gently against him. You lick him carefully from his toes to his face, dragging your tongue over his cock along the way. That first lick tastes awful. He’s unwashed and basically disgusting. You spit onto the floor and try again and thankfully it tastes much nicer this time. By the fourth slow, wet lick over his body, he has stopped fighting and has a stupid grin on his tiny face.

  “That’s nice, isn’t it?”

  “Oh, yes,” he moans. You think he’s the bartender, but this small they all look alike.

  “I was going to suck your prick, but I think it’s too small,” you giggle. “Instead, I think I’ll just suck your whole lower half.”

  You dip him into your mouth, down to the middle of his chest, cradling him with your tongue and sucking gently at his lower body. He moans as you slurp on him, bathing him in your saliva and swirling your cock around and around his tiny body.

  It is sensory overload as you are pleasured by three tiny perverts and pleasure the fourth in return. The tiny old man is wriggling back and forth between your breasts inside your bra, moaning and humping and licking at your nipples. It’s even greater chaos inside your panties. It feels as if one of them has his legs shoved in your quim and he is trying to literally chew your clit while the other tiny man is fucking the pucker of your anus with his miniscule penis.

  You shudder with pleasure, moaning a
round the man stuffed into your mouth. You buck your hips and feel a sudden wetness at your anus. A moment later you feel more wetness soaking into your bra. Finally, you taste the faint salty tang of cum against your tongue. The four men emerge, gasping, from your mouth, your bra, and your panties. One by one, you pluck them up, and sit them back on the countertop. To a man, they look flushed and satisfied.

  “Now that we have had some fun,” you say, leaning your face down so that your eyes are even with the bar, “I think you four owe me some answers.”

  “The goat is in the black temple up the next hill,” says one of the men.

  “He wears a crown,” says the old man. “That’s the source of all his power. You need to wait for just the right moment and take it from him. He’ll wither and lose his power.”

  “How do you know?” Shouts one man.

  “That’s bollocks!” Jeers another.

  “It’s true!” The tiny old man shouts. “My dad said the goat was a man before he was the goat. He put on the crown and became the servant of the one we cannot name.”

  “He come from the dead city,” says another one of the men.

  “Ain’t so dead anymore,” says another and they all begin to argue.

  The “dead city” must be Rhilath, the northernmost settlement on the island and once, long before the map was made, a bustling capital of the civilization that dwelled here. It fell into ruin centuries ago.

  “Rhilath is inhabited now?” You interject into their argument.

  “Yeah, that’s right,” says one of the men. “Monsters and slaves. They’ve built it all up nice. That’s what Cohan said, before he got eaten by that thing that come out of the river.”

  You don’t have time to worry about Rhilath or whatever ate Cohan. If Kara came through this town, she could be in the clutches of the creature these men call the goat. The question is, can you trust what the old man said about the crown?

  “Thank you for your information,” you say, standing upright. “That spell should wear off soon enough, just, you know, stay away from cats.”

  The men on the bar actually wave goodbye as you depart the Mouth Inn. 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 >

  Attack

  You don’t like the odds of four-on-one, but they are the odds you have been given. Time to fight like a huntress!

  You draw your pistol, raise it, and fire it without aiming in the direction of the archers. The loud crack of the gun and the fire and smoke seem to startle the gertlings. The runts launch their arrows, but one goes far wide of hitting you. The other stabs into the meat of your left arm. You cry out in pain as the arrow sticks in your arm.

  No time to worry about being punctured by an arrow! You draw your other pistol and fire it wildly at the charging brute with his cudgel. The shot is a near miss, piercing a neat hole through his long, pointed ear. His head jerks and he pulls his lips back from his many jagged teeth in a snarl. You reach for your sword and try to draw it from its sheath, but the brute is too fast. He clubs your hand, nearly breaking your fingers and sending you to your knees in pain. He grabs your sword’s grip and yanks the weapon from your grasp. He tosses it aside.

  You try to fend off his hands, earning several bloody gouges on your palm and your forearms. The gertling that was acting as the party’s leader moves behind you, drawing a crude dagger with a stone blade. While you are trying to fend off the claws of the brute, the leader brings his arm around your shoulder and presses the blade’s sharp edge to your throat.

  “No more fight, human girl, or I make you die.”

  You hold up your aching, bloody hands and stop struggling with the brute. The knife blade eases from your neck. The brute gets in one last blow that smashes you across the face and knocks you into darkness.

  You awake on your knees, but no longer in the burned village. The oppressive mist of the island hangs all around you like cannon smoke on a battlefield. Your head is throbbing, your nostrils stuffed with congealed blood and your hands burning from the scratches you received. Your wrists are bound tightly together and your arms are raised and extended, secured by a rope to the lower branch of a dead tree that looms over you.

  “W-what…?”

  You lift your head more, hair falling out of your face. Your body is moving rhythmically for some reason. You hear tittering and you realize that rough hands are touching your body. They are squeezing and fondling your breasts. Some part of you knows that this should make you furious or even afraid, but curiously, you feel no anger. Instead, you feel a throbbing warmth and happiness enveloping you. That part of your mind that recoiled from the hands groping your breasts now screams that this feeling is a lie, that it’s part of the curse of fertility that hangs over the island, that it means…

  “I’ve been bred,” you laugh, a smile hanging on your face.

  “You awake?” A gertling appears ahead of you. He is just as ugly as before, but now you see the beauty in that too-wide mouth and those too-big eyes. You salivate at the sight of his drooping cock dripping with his monstrous cum. “You sleep long time, pretty human. We have lots of fun.”

  You look over your shoulder and see the brute behind you, his clawed hands stroking your shapely hips as he thrusts against you, his lean hips smacking against your plump backside. You shudder with understanding and pleasure, your cunt rippling around the gertling’s cock and squeezing out some of the copious gertling spunk filling your channel.

  You feel no anger towards your captors; quite the opposite. One of them, or perhaps all of them, has fathered children with you, now growing inside your body. Love permeates your mind and makes your flesh warm with desire. As all of your faculties return, you begin to push your ass back against the brute fucking you from behind.

  “Good, good,” says the gertling leader, stroking your hair. He takes out his familiar knife and cuts your restraints. You thank him with your hands caressing his pale blue and pink cock. It’s no bigger than your ring finger, even as it rises to full hardness. He steps closer to your face and you eagerly suck him, tasting the juices that drip from his tip. He caresses your hair and speaks softly to you as you pleasure him. “We not want to hurt you, but you attack us. We very nice. You very nice. We be friends with you now.”

  “Mmmmmhmmmm!” You agree, popping your lips wetly up and down his cock.

  With the two runts beneath you, pawing and sucking at your swinging breasts, you are in a heaven you never conceived before this moment. The lewd slurping of your creamy cunt as you push back against the brute is a fine, raunchy accompaniment to the moaning and grunting that is softened in the foggy forest. You are in fully rut, enjoying your sexuality shamelessly as you suck and fuck with the gertlings.

  At the height of your next orgasm, your inner walls rippling around the cock spurting into your pussy, you think you see four yellow eyes staring at you through the fog. There is the hint of a silhouette there, observing you. As you arch and push back, crying out, “More! Fuck me harder!” the shape slowly moves away as if no longer interested. Too bad, you might have fucked whatever monster was lurking out there in the fog.

  You giggle and return to sucking the gertling standing before you. The leader strokes your hair, his acorn-sized balls swinging lightly against your chin as he fucks your mouth.

  “We fuck you good, then we take you back to village. You be breeding slave for whole tribe.”

  “Mmmmmhmmm,” you agree, gazing up at him with your golden eyes, unwilling to relinquish his delicious cock.

  “We make many strong babies with you,” he says and then croaks with pleasure as he spurts his cum into your mouth. You swallow his briny spunk, eager for your life as a breeding slave.

  CONTINUE >

  Accept Luckfen�
�s offer eagerly on day two

  You have already spent one day employed by Boggen Luckfen as his personal whore. You make up your mind that you rather enjoyed that first day and a lusty smile spreads across your full lips. Bog meets your smile with his white-toothed grin.

  “I think you’ve made up your mind,” he says.

  “Yes, I have,” you say, but rather than answering his question about your employment, you slide off the bench and onto your knees. His eyes twinkle as he watches you crawl towards him. You slide your hand into his lap and caress the ample bulge of his flaccid cock. You carefully open his trousers and reach in to lift out the warm hose of his fat cock. You push the white lock of hair out of your face, curling it behind your ear, and you lean down to run your tongue around his tip.

  You have read numerous books containing passages about women pleasuring men with their mouths. You have seen Velora’s silhouette performing the act for numerous men and you have listened to their cries of pleasure. Men adore a woman who sucks at their cock as if she is thirsty for the milk of their loins. The manly musk and fleshy heat of Bog’s cock excites you enough to inspire that peculiar thirst.

  “Ohhh, that’s a nice surprise,” groans Bog, settling one of his hands on the top of your head.

  You moan loudly as you part your lips and take his swelling cockhead into your mouth. Your tongue curls beneath his glans and the width of his fat, mushroom head stretches your lips. You take him deeper, looking up at him from beneath lust-drooping eyelids. You tighten your lips around him and hollow your cheeks with suction. A hint of salty liquid smears your tongue and makes you even hotter. You begin to unbutton your blouse as you bob your mouth on his cock.

  “Yes, let me see them,” he moans, watching with delight as you bare your heaving breasts to him and continue to slurp wantonly at his rigid manhood. He grunts and leans one hand down to fondle your breasts. “Mmmmm, yes, so lovely.”