The Fisher Queen Read online

  It was too much. It was all too much. But what pushed her over the edge again was another tentacle, slipping between her firm ass cheeks, teasing its way into her rear. “Mmmm!” She arched, quivering as the tentacle explored her dark star, then eased further in, sliding past the clenching ring of muscles to fill her ass, the way made smooth by more of that sweet slime.

  “Mnnnnn!” Her second orgasm surged through her like wildfire. She burned with the ecstasy of those invading limbs. She panted, writhed, mewled helplessly. A plaything of the kraken, her muted moans and cries echoing in the stone chamber, and stirring other things living in the deep dark.

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  Veria pushed on grimly, hating herself with every splashing step. “Damn. Damn! Why didn’t you strike then? You knew the thing was likely a beast. Damn!”

  The torch had nearly burned down to the nub, its light weakening even as she walked. She didn’t care. She didn’t even know for sure where she was going. She followed the tunnel Dinah had vanished down as best she could, taking branching paths rashly, and prayed it would lead to the huntress. And if she became lost in the twisting dark corridors, that was fine. She deserved it. Deserved to die in the watery darkness, wasting away from hunger. She deserved whatever came about for her failures.

  She felt the tears she didn’t shed. Her sister. The huntress. All the women of the village taken. Damn the villagers. Damn her. And damn the fishers most of all.

  She’d always known they existed. Though some among the village likely didn’t believe until that fateful night, she had known the monstrous things were real. She had seen them. Always from a distance, their large eyes faintly glowing through the misty nights, watching her from out near the rocks or beneath the waves, just beyond her reach. Wondering if they could take her. Lurking for an opportunity when her guard was down. She felt a shudder of utter revulsion steal through her at the memory of the creatures. A feeling that any sane human would feel at the sight of such aberrations. The wrongness of the monsters had made itself felt to her even from a distance.

  That was how she knew the things had been responsible for the raid on her village. How she had known her sister had been taken by the savage creatures. And how too she knew, for certainty, that they had somehow taken Dinah.

  Her torch guttered, and with a last flicker went out. Veria cursed as only a fisherman knew how and tossed the torch aside where it sizzled in the waters. Hefting her harpoon, using it to feel her way on, she advanced once more, eyes straining against the utter darkness.

  But not for long. She blinked, squinting as she made out the faintest glow reflecting off the still waters. She crouched, creeping on slowly now. For if there was light, that meant something was producing it. The light began to glow brighter, and as she teased around a corner, she found that the glow came from a number of strange moss and fungi growing along the cavern wall, their weak light a welcome relief from the darkness.

  And that wasn’t all that was revealed. Veria stared at the crude design daubed onto the tunnel wall. A series of sharp shapes too deliberate to be natural. Too crude to be human.

  For the first time in a while, Veria smiled grimly. “Found you,” she breathed. She hurried down the tunnel as quickly as she could, her way lit by the moss and fungal growths. Around a bend she slowed again, for the air had changed. It took her a moment to make out what it was.

  It was getting colder.

  Veria slowed, creeping again, wading on. From fishing in the pools after the tide she knew how to move so as not to make a ripple. The tunnel suddenly dipped down, running under the water level. Veria hesitated, then dove. The path fell below the waterline, and as she swam forward, it then tilted back up a short distance. Light glowed beyond it, and slowly, Varia lifted just her head above the surface.

  She was outside, the water chill and fed by the sea. Waves crashed in the distance, breaking on a ragged shape of rocks. Sheltered by the cliffs and built on a series of embankments above the surf was a village. Crude wattle huts had been erected along a rough beach, hidden from the sea by the rocks and the land by an overhang of the cliffs.

  And among the huts were gerlings.

  Veria stared at the stocky, slimy creatures. Toad-like, with bloated bellies and huge eyes, they would only reach her waist, but more loathsome for it. Their bulging eyes stared out, their lipless mouths stretching across half their faces. They wore little more than rude belts of seaweed with crude stone knives shoved in them. In webbed hands they carried spears and on their arms and backs sharp spiny fins rose. Fires burned about the huts, fish spitted over the flames.

  Hatred burned molten in Veria’s belly as she watched the repugnant creatures move about their lives. She felt a shudder of revulsion as she carefully swam along the edge of the village and to where the shore rose in a series of ragged rocks. She crept out of the water, her clothes clinging to her muscled form and weighing her down as she slunk around the edge of the embankment. She froze when she heard a human voice. Warily, she peeked over the edge of the rocks.

  A woman had been brought before one of the bonfires. She was naked, her expression heavy, and her breasts… Veria stared at the woman’s teats. They swelled from her chest, engorged with nipples puffy. A leash bound her to the hand of a gerling, the toad-like creature waddling to a collection of others. They rose as the newcomer approached and carefully eased the woman down into a seated position.

  Veria gripped her harpoon tightly as two of the bloated frog creatures waddled up to the waiting woman. She didn’t seem to notice them, her eyes dim and distant like she were half asleep. As Veria watched, the gerlings grasped the woman’s heavy breasts in their webbed hands.

  The woman gasped, moaned as the two gerlings gently squeezed and massaged her teats. Veria’s eyes widened in shock as she saw creamy milk bead the woman’s puffy nipples, dribbling down the underside of her teats to drip into her naked lap. Instantly the two gerlings leaned up and attached their large mouths to her breasts.

  “Oooooh,” the woman moaned, panting as the two amphibians suckled at her heaving teats. Veria gaped, staring at woman’s blissful expression, lost in the thrall of the suckling monsters.

  “Dear gods,” Veria breathed. Her hand tightened on the stone outcropping as she watched the woman cradle the two stunted monsters to her milky orbs, her thighs quivering, mouth panting as the monsters drank their fill.

  But they were far from done.

  As she watched, one of the monsters dragged up a large clay pot. While his fellows sucked at the woman’s breasts, the new gerling dipped his hand into the pot, and brought out the transparent sphere of a gerling egg.

  Veria bit her lip as the gerling kneeled between the milky woman’s thighs and very carefully pressed the egg against her velvety cunt.

  “Mmmmmm!” the woman moaned, her keening cry shooting through Veria like a shot. She realized she was hot. Flushing as she watched the monster carefully push the egg into the woman. The human was panting, her mouth parted in orgasmic bliss as the gerling retrieved his slickened fingers and produced another egg, pushing it into the woman’s waiting pussy.

  “Ooooh. Mnnn! Y-yes. Oh yeeeeees!” the woman cried, tugging the two suckling monsters to her heaving breasts, her thighs quaking as the next egg slid inside her. “Yes. Yes! Oohhhhh nnnnnaaaaaa!”

  The woman’s body shuddered with her orgasm, the gerling waiting until her juices stopped splattering the floor before sliding yet another egg into her clutching depths.

  Veria watched, stunned as egg after egg slid inside the woman’s sopping cunt. She couldn’t look away. Couldn’t deny the depraved scene going on before her. Her breasts tingled against her wet shirt and her mound warmed her pants as the stomach of the gerling’s victim began to swell with the sheer amount of eggs being pushed into her womb.

  The woman was beyond speech now. Only animal sounds of keening pleasure and panting arousal escaped her parted lips as she took another egg and another. “Ahn. Nnnn! Mnnnnn!” the woman moaned. />
  Veria felt her hand groping her own breast. She knew she should be horrified, and she was. Gods she was. And yet… and yet her fingers gripped her firm tit, squeezed it eagerly as she felt her core pulse with sinful arousal, watching the debasement of her fellow human being. The monstrous breeding and milking of the woman in the grasp of her captors.

  It seemed to take forever for the gerling to empty his container. But at last, the final pearl was pushed into the woman’s gaping cunt. Done, the amphibian monster sucked his fingers clean of the juices of his victim and got back to his feet, fetching away the urn. The woman whimpered as the pair of gerlings at her breasts pulled away, leaving faint rings where their mouths had adhered. The pair of monsters rose and took the woman’s leash. A tug had the woman try to rise, only to fall to hands and knees at the new weight of her stomach. It hardly seemed to concern her, and with shapely ass shaking, she crawled after the gerlings, stomach and breasts swaying beneath her pendulously.

  Veria sank against the stone with a shuddering gasp. She pulled her hand from her breast, but still felt the tingling heat of her mound against her damp panties. Shame surged through her, but she forced it aside as she watched the gerlings lead their charge towards a particularly large hut built near the edge of the crude village. The monsters opened the doors, and soft cries could just be heard as they led the woman within.

  So there was where their victims were. Where the huntress would be.

  Where her sister would be.

  Resolve filled Veria. Taking up her harpoon, she carefully moved about the edge of the village. For its size, it seemed strangely empty. Perhaps its denizens were off on a hunt. Her good luck, then. Buoyed by this, the young, scarred woman neared the embankment and crept up the ragged stone shore, hiding in the shadows of huts as she neared the barn.

  The large building was built by crude hands. Driftwood formed the walls and slats, leaving many holes, all of it bound together with mud and seaweed. Veria snuck a peek through a large crack in the wall.

  Within was partly lit with the glowing moss. Pens of driftwood were scattered about the interior, as were the captives. Veria felt her heart clench at the sight of the women lying among straw and mossy beds, their stomachs swollen, their breasts engorged and their expressions distant with mindless bliss.

  As she scanned the interior, she sucked in a breath, for not all the women were in quite that state. Not yet. In the rear of the chamber, she made out several familiar faces. The women taken from the village lounged about, their expressions dim, their bodies naked, but not yet swollen with the results of the gerling’s efforts. And one among their number drew Veria’s eye.

  Her sister, Tanda, sagged near the very back of the barn, naked as the rest. Her head rested against the wall, eyes dim, pale body marked with the faint red lines of claw and rude hands. Even in such a state, Veria recognized the mop of copper hair, matted as it was with straw and filth.

  With barely a glance to ensure no gerlings were inside Veria grabbed the loose wall and pulled. It gave with little fuss, the barn clearly meant more to shelter the women within than keep them from escaping. Pushing aside another, Veria made a hole big enough for her to slip through and inside.

  The women within paid her no attention, wrapped as they were in their own heady bliss. Veria quickly crossed the room and knelt before her sister, touching her arm.

  “Tanda? Tanda!”

  Tanda lifted her head, blinking blearily. “Mnnn?”

  “Tanda, come on. We have to get out of here.”

  Tanda giggled. “Hey Veria,” the younger woman slurred, stroking her arm. “How are you?”

  Veria shuddered. “Oh gods above. Come on! Stand up. I’m getting you out of here,” she hissed, tugging the other woman to her feet. “Here. We have to- mph!”

  Veria froze as her sister threw her arms around her and locked their lips in a sloppy kiss. For a moment, Veria was too stunned to move from the embrace of her sister, who took the lack of movement as an invitation. A tongue slipped into Veria’s mouth, deepening the kiss with a purr of pleasure.

  Veria snapped back to herself. She grabbed her sister and pushed her back. “Tanda! What… what are you doing!”

  “Feels good. Doesn’t it?” Tanda giggled vaguely, her eyes dark with desire. “Feels… so good…”

  “Tanda! Get ahold of yourself! I-“

  “Roooark?”

  Veria whirled at the sound. The door of the barn lay open, and several gerlings were standing in the entrance. Their large eyes stared at her, stone tipped spears in their hands.

  Veria pushed her sister behind her and levelled her harpoon. “Alright,” she breathed. “Come then!”

  She surged forward, whirling her harpoon. The first of the frog-men was too stunned to respond and went down, his stomach slashed, foul blood spilling on the floor. The one behind him frantically brought up his spear, only for her harpoon to snake past it, impaling the startled monster. She hauled back her weapon, dragging the corpse with it. Whirling it about, she smashed the dead body into the next attacker. Vengeance filled her with a terrible wrath. Her eyes glowed, her grin fierce as she stepped forward to the next.

  The weight hit her back so hard she nearly fell face first into the gerling ranks. She staggered and looked behind her, gawking at Tanda wrapped around her waist.

  “Noooo!” her sister cried. “Not the masters! Can’t hurt them!”

  “Get off me!” Veria screamed, trying to shove her sister off, difficult, for she didn’t want to hurt her drugged sibling. She swung her harpoon at the gerlings to keep them at bay. “Tanda! Get off!”

  She heard a hiss. Something stabbed into her neck. Veria gasped, slapped a hand over her neck and yanked out what lodged there. She stared at the dart, then looked up towards the gerlings, several of whom now held blowpipes.

  “N-no,” Veria gasped as the room spun. She took a step forward, but Tanda’s weight brought her down. Veria didn’t feel the floor as she hit it, the edges of her vision dimming as the gerlings slowly surrounded her. The last thing she saw was their huge eyes blinking down at her, and then only darkness.

  Sunken Crown

  Dinah sagged. Aftershocks of pleasure now and then trembled through her. She moaned weakly, spent. The tentacle within her cunt continued to lazily probe her, tweaking spots that had before sent her screaming with orgasm, now merely made her whimper.

  Satisfied, the kraken slowly withdrew its limb from her mouth. She gasped, panting. “Oooh,” she moaned as the twin tentacles slowly slithered from her ass and cunt, leaving her feeling empty. Drained. She lifted her head, blinking blearily down at the huge eyes of her tormentor. The kraken slowly heaved more of itself out of the waters, revealing its writhing shape. Her eyes widened as she saw something different push out of it. A long, thick ovipositor that bulged with the unmistakeable shape of eggs.

  “Oh,” she gasped as the kraken began to lower her towards that twitching limb. She realized then what the whole effort had been for. To weaken her. Ply her with pleasure until she wouldn’t be able to resist the beast’s breeding. To be filled with egg after egg, her stomach swelling as she was kept in the creature’s grasp.

  No.

  Her hands tightened into fists. Her pride, her rage crystallized within her. As she drew nearer, nearer, she found a strength buried deep inside of her. She wrenched her arm about. The tentacle holding her, certain of its victory, came with it. She yanked her hand from its grasp and to her belt, grabbed her knife and wrenched it free. She slashed the rubbery limb holding her other arm.

  The monster screamed, a sound the echoed shrilly in the unhallowed cavern. Foul ichor sprayed from the wound as it released her arm. She slashed again at the one holding her leg. All four of the tentacles snatched back instinctively. She fell, landing heavily atop the monster.

  Its rubbery flesh heaved as the kraken shifted. She clung to the barnacles on its hide, raised her head and saw its immense, baleful eye looking down at her. With a cry of rage
she raised her arm and plunged her dagger into the staring orb.

  The kraken’s scream deafened them. The very ceiling shook. Black blood pumped onto her arm as she yanked free her arm and brought down the dagger again and again. The monster screamed and writhed. Its tentacles snapped for her. One grabbed her leg, pulling her violently away. She stabbed into the rubbery hide, the force of the pulling tentacle yanking her down and ripping open a massive gash in the monster. The kraken wailed with pain, and then she was airborne, hurled away, spinning end over end. She hit the waters with a bone numbing crash.

  Bubbles burst around her. The world spun. The impact drove the breath from her, and when she instinctively gasped she inhaled only water. She heaved, struggling. Broke the surface and coughed, hacking up the foul water.

  The thrashing of the kraken pulled her attention to it. The monster’s blood tinted the water all around it as it flailed in blind pain. Dinah looked about her and saw she was near the shore. Still coughing, tears stinging the corner of her eyes, she forced her aching body to swim away and towards land. Towards safety.

  She dragged herself up the stony bank, gasping weakly, coughing up the last of the water in her lungs. She crouched there for a moment, trying to recover. But not for too long. Soon enough her shaking stopped, and she simply fell to the ground, resting her aching limbs. The adrenaline of her battle banished the last of the numbing fog, her swim washing off the kraken’s arousing slime, but exhaustion claimed her, and she mercifully blacked out.

  Dinah didn’t know how long she lay insensate on that underground beach. But eventually consciousness crept back to her. She groaned and rolled over too slowly sit up, wincing, but feeling more herself. She climbed to her feet and looked back to the lake. She grimaced, spying the kraken where it now lay still, its reddish bulk a grim shape bobbing in the waters.

  Dinah took in a shuddering breath. “Gods,” she breathed, rubbing her arms, trying to stifle her horror at the fate that had nearly claimed her. So. It seemed more than mere gerlings lurked in these tunnels. She had never heard of a kraken being so deep underground. It might have come in through a tunnel, or perhaps even been born in the near lightless dark. How deep into the earth was she? The huntress looked at the jagged ceiling with a frown. Who knew how far the creature had dragged her. She shook her head. Whatever the reason, it was dead. And she was alive. And somewhere, down here, so was Veria.