6 comments/ 7096 views/ 8 favorites Great Old One Pt. 01 By: QueenPersephone Time, as in the concept of days, weeks, months -- had little meaning for them as they were now wealthy, retired and sailing around the world on a beautiful large 130 foot luxury yacht, stopping wherever pleased them. They were both just over their mid-thirties, smart with money not out of greed but because they rejected the constraints of modern society and the rules and the brutality of the capitalist machinery. They wanted freedom and the lack of routine. So, they studied the machine, how it worked, what made it tick and hacked it's clockwork to run for them. As they cruised Europe, their assets made passive income. Technology allowed them to live on this boat and day trade and do other business as they pleased. At this moment, early afternoon, in the brilliant sun at sea, Annika lay on her back at the front of the beautiful yacht. She was topless, in her white bikini bottoms, lying on her back on a sunbed, the warmth of the sun gentle on her skin and her long hair resting on her bare breasts. They were somewhere south of Greece, he knew exactly; but her ignorance was part of the romanticism of it for her. She was getting tanned, which made her blue eyes even brighter and her platinum blonde hair seem more alarmingly white. She felt like a new person, the shackles of her old life of responsibility left back in civilisation and her new life, on this yacht with her husband, the love of her life, was who she was now. Chris was tall, broad shouldered and barrel-chested, muscular and handsome. He was brilliant; so intelligent, it was his genius with numbers and computers that had them living in luxury in many ways -- and he made her laugh with his sarcastic wit. They clicked on every level, especially with the sex thing, which was very important to Annika, who loved to fuck about five times a day. A gull flew overhead and Annika opened her eyes, gazing at her large perky breasts in front of her, the small pink rosebud nipples popping to attention as she thought about Chris' mouth, his hands and his cock. Yes, after he had finished messing around with the computer controlled sails, she would keep him busy in another way. She had bought new lingerie in Paris and some toys to have fun with that he hadn't seen yet. She smiled, thinking about surprising him later. Their sex life had always been creative and adventurous. The dark azure sky was like a dome overhead and all she could hear was water thrashing and lapping. The silence sometimes got to her and she wanted excitement but there were the towns for that. As if on cue, Chris called out that they are about to dock in thirty minutes and Annika rolled onto her stomach, her large breasts jiggling as she got up, deciding to go and dress for fun. The balmy sea breeze caught her hair as she walked across deck. Chris watched her, his lust apparent as he admired her bobbing breasts and swaying hips and she wagged her finger at him. Naughty, naughty. She smiled. He was going to like what she got changed into. The problem with this lifestyle was that she missed the sexiness of dressing up. Bikinis, denim cut-offs and flannel shirts got tired after a while... She padded barefoot down the glossy maple stairs, going below deck to the expansive cabin, with the huge television and all the mods and cons in the salon and the galley -- and everything being perhaps even better fitted out than the average five-star hotel -- they really weren't 'roughing it'. At night, they usually sat in the Chesterfield lounges, eating cheese platters or fresh salmon, whatever the ports brought and watching movies or whatever else. It was like all the good bits of home, with all the stuff like work erased. She walked through the stainless steel galley, into the maple panelled passage, past several closed bedroom doors and into the master. She slipped out of the bikini bottoms, entering the en-suite bathroom. She showered, using Chanel No 5 body wash and moisturiser because he liked it and curled her long platinum hair so it framed her face, cascading down her back. Annika opened her wardrobe and looking through her large collection of lingerie, she carefully chose an ivory lace underwear set with a push-up bra that thrust her breasts upwards. She dressed in a low-cut white halter sundress with a red cherry print and put on some makeup, pleased with the result. She missed looking so pretty and smelling lovely -- she dabbed perfume behind her wrists and ears, touching some lipgloss on her pillowy lips. Chris said she was beautiful even when they were days into a hike and unwashed; but she knew he secretly adored her dressed up like this. Strutting, she returned to the sunbed. They were meters away from the dock and the yacht swayed hard. Docking the yacht was challenging and Chris' temper flared, so she took a book back to the deck and allowed the locals to help him, staying clear as the men tossed ropes and argued. Perched on the sunbed, her bare long legs out in front of her, Annika put her book down and looked the cramped hillside town over, a little bored. It resembled every other town they had visited this month and she considered wiping off some eyeliner and covering her ample breasts and naked arms with a cardigan to ward off the religious glares of the older townfolk. These towns were old, cobble-stoned and charmingly Gothic-looking, but underneath the cute antiquity, the cultures were small-minded, weird and superstitious. This town was smaller than the others and she thought that they would walk around it a bit, giggle about its arcane creepiness as they usually did, take pictures of stuff like old ruined tombstones and crumbling steeples and hot-tail it back to the luxurious inside of the yacht. Then go back to sea and perhaps head further north, back to Northern Europe where their friends were staying. "They say there's a storm coming and we'll need to stay somewhere for the night," Chris told her as he walked past, breaking into her reverie. He looked moody, like he was displeased at this and annoyed at the docking. "We'll need to pack some stuff for shore." Annika sighed and glanced at the dock, where a gathering group of scruffy men were staring at her, as locals often did. She rubbed her arms, as if swatting away their gazes. "I will get a cardigan," she decided and Chris laughed, kissing her on the forehead. He knew her well enough to know she liked men looking, but purely on her terms. She was very picky with who got to look or touch. They went down to their bedroom and joked around as they gathered some belongings in overnight bags, enjoying their natural banter and the ease of their bond. Chris realised that the island probably wouldn't have satellite for the MMA fight that night and Annika giggled, suggesting that make their own unsanctioned match and jumped on him, throwing him back onto the bed and trying to pin him. Their play wrestling inevitably turned sexual, with Chris overpowering her, pinning her. "Submit to me?" he asked and she giggled and said, "Never." His large skilful hands, a bit rough from the sailing, knew where to touch and caress; they ran all over her, causing shivers of pleasure and then, slowly, up her shapely bare legs. He kissed her gently, his golden hazel eyes looking deeply into hers. "You will," he whispered, running his fingers along her pantyline and she held her breath, her hands stroking his bare big hard chest, loving every moment of him being on top of her. He gently took her panties off, running them down her legs and pulling them off, opening her willing legs wide. She watched his arm muscles ripple as he lowered himself, lifting her skirt and looking her in the eye before beginning to kiss her inner thighs, then her bare waxed labia. She tensed in delicious anticipation and raised her hips to meet him as his large tongue started to stroke her clit, he was so amazing at this, he just knew how to drive her crazy and he took his time, building up pressure and speed, but also teasing at the right moments. His tongue tirelessly worked at her clit until, shaking and crying out, she had an unbearably intense orgasm, gripping the sheets as her body lost control. He immediately popped up and started kissing her, pushing his tongue into her eager mouth, his fingers on her clit, pressing and rubbing, he knew her secrets and then, explosively, she came again, screaming. He whispered in her ear, "I wonder if those men are still there..." and clapped his hand over her mouth as he took his hard cock out of his shorts and thrust it into her roughly. She let out a muffled cry, tasting her pussy on his hand and stared up at him, wide-eyed, as he rolled her ankles up to his shoulders in her favourite sex position and entered her. She sighed blissfully as he sank into her and he pushed deeper, beginning to drill into her. He was huge and this way, he forced her to take him all in like this, her G-spot was on fire and her clit, already swollen and so sensitive, both spasmed in unison, mounting to an incredible orgasm. He smirked as he watched her face contort, his large hand still over her mouth; he knew how loud she was during sex, it was fine out at sea, but not docked or in a small hotel. "You love it rough and hard," he said, increasing his pace and really putting his back into each thrust. Her eyes widened; she was going to come again, she felt insatiable, she couldn't have enough of his cock. She tried to tell him to fuck her harder but was still gagged by his hand and he grinned at her, enjoying his dominant position, enjoying his huge cock pounding into her tiny pussy. "I love stretching your little cunt," he said, pressing her knees to her shoulders and holding them there, hard. She shivered, loving it when he was dirty during sex because it was so out of character and then, with a long moan, she came again, grabbing at his strong flexing forearms. He pulled out, trying to flip her onto her hands and knees to fuck her from behind but Annika wanted to taste his cock -- and his cum -- so she turned around, roughly pushing him backwards onto the pillows. He grinned up at her, knowing what was coming as she pulled down his shorts, exposing his glorious huge cock covered in her cunt honey and started licking up and down before plunging her mouth down on his cock, impaling herself. His hands grabbed her blonde hair, his groans letting her know how much he was enjoying himself. She glanced up at his face, seeing him watch her in rapt fascination as she took control of his cock. Her hands caressed his balls, his ass as she slipped the head of his cock straight into her throat, bypassing her gag reflex and kept going, up and down, fast and slow, varying the pace and listening to him and feeling his body language. He started to tense -- he was close -- so she stopped and started to lick his balls slowly, ignoring his bulging begging shaft, her hands stroking around it. "Tease," he groaned. "You love it," she responded, pausing to smile at him and then she resumed sucking his cock, viciously like before, deep in her throat, assaulting the head. His hands went up her skirt, finding her wet pussy and fingered it, he was moaning and quivering, he was close again and she stopped, pulling away and giving the shiny purple head a few soft licks. "I could just grab you and fuck you..." he said, eyeing her and she giggled at this, stroking his throbbing hot shaft. "You won't because you know the pay-off is worth it," she said, plunging her mouth back on the cock and this time, she was relentless, bobbing up and down until he cried out, coming very hard for several seconds and she did not stop sucking after he shot his creamy hot load, she kept sucking the twitching cock to another orgasm and this made him thrash like he had been slapped. This was one of her special tricks, something that made her amazing in bed and a sex goddess, of who he worshipped and he took her in his arms, sweaty and trembling, his eyes wide with awe. She didn't like cuddling after sex but tolerated it a little before getting up and putting on the cardigan. She looked down at him on the bed, spent and happy. "Come on, babe, time to get off the yacht before the storm crushes us into oblivion." "And find a room on shore for what I want to do to you next," he added, smiling up at her. Great Old One Pt. 02 ***Note to those who have asked - yes, the title is a Lovecraft reference and I intend for this story to travel into 'weird' erotic places...thanks for all the feedback and encouragement :)*** ***** The rickety bluestone inn that they booked into had one room left and after dropping off their bags, they went to the tavern for drinks. The tavern was small, dark and had wood panelled walls, tables and chairs. The skies had darkened and the rain had started pelting down moments ago. Annika sat at the stained glass window, watching lights outside smear and glimmer through the rain-flecked glass. She resigned herself to staying in this odd little town for a while longer; the wizened old lady who gave them their key suggested it could be days. She quivered, thinking how the lady, and a gathering crowd, had eyed her, like a piece of meat. She was feeling especially uncomfortable here and wanted to get back on their boat as soon as they could. The town had the same skinny old cobblestone streets that the other towns had and only a few cars, old, small. English was spoken, so there was no need for the little book she carried, or her foolish attempt at Spanish. Chris had some local beers whilst Annika, who didn't drink alcohol, ordered Pellegrino and lime. She invited the attractive couple at a nearby table to join them. At first, Chris was reserved as he often was, but found he had an interest in robotics in common with Richard and Annika was mesmerised by Mia and her large pale green eyes. Mia was pale with glossy brown-black hair, a beautiful heart-shaped face and huge soft pink lips. She was very much an English rose; her mannerisms, her accent, her lovely bone structure. At first, Annika wondered whether she was just hoping that Mia was flirting with her - but as Mia consumed more champagne, it became increasingly obvious - the lingering touches, the innuendo. When Mia snuggled over a little and entwined her bare legs into Annika's, she complied and pressed herself closer, smelling her lovely hair and sweet perfume. They continued talking about mundane sorts of things - where they last had a satisfying shopping spree, which country had the nicest strong coffee - and whilst this occurred above the table, Annika kicked off a stiletto shoe and slowly stroked her bare foot up Mia's calf. Mia paused, her gorgeous eyes widening and her breath catching. Annika glanced across at the boys, who were still talking, oblivious. She leaned into Mia and whispered into her ear, "Can you come up to my room and help me fix my bra?" Mia nodded and the girls stood. "We're going to the room," Mia said and neither man really took much notice, so the girls smiled at each other, clasping hands as they left the table and weaved through the cramped wooden tables, through the tavern and up the narrow stairs. Behind Mia, Annika stared at her perfect ass, watching it move sensuously under her pale turquoise sundress as she climbed the stairs. She had lovely curves; large soft breasts, big hips, nipped waist - Annika loved feminine beautiful women. They walked through the reception and Annika was relieved that the odd lady was not at the desk. They kept walking to the larger staircase, up to their rooms. "I have our key," Annika said, thinking Chris didn't have a key and he probably didn't have to know about her and Mia. He knew her needs but he could get jealous and possessive. Disappointingly, he never wanted to join in - Annika would have liked to have a threesome - or foursome. Just outside the room, when Annika was fumbling with the key, Mia touched her long platinum curls, pulling them aside and kissed her cheek, then, full on the lips - first, tentatively, and then passionately. Annika kissed back, leaving the key in the door as she took Mia's face in her hands and then ran her hands down her body, relishing each curve. Tasting each other, they pressed together tight, hands on skin and Annika gasped as Mia started to unzip her dress at the back. "Oh shit, we should probably go inside," Mia whispered, looking down the corridor and Annika followed her gaze to see a tall man wearing black robes, standing in the dusky shadows at the end of the hall, his piercing stare on them. Her hand a bit shaky, Annika unlocked the door and turned the knob, both girls going inside and Annika ensuring the door was locked. Wide-eyed, Mia hissed, "What was with that creep?" Annika shrugged coolly. "The people in this town are really weird - were they staring at you a lot too?" Mia shook her head. "I didn't notice anything like that...like that guy anyway...wow." Annika smiled, stroking Mia's arm. "Let's not let him ruin our night." Mia tried to smile back. "Sure..." Annika kissed her gently on the lips and ran her hands over her bare shoulders. "I'll give you a massage?" Mia nodded and Annika unzipped her dress now, grinning. "A naughty massage," she added, pulling down the sundress to reveal her nakedness. Mia wasn't wearing a bra, her large round natural breasts perky and gorgeous, pink nipples sharply aware. Her skin was a lovely pale ivory, her pussy was trimmed, beautiful. Annika's breath caught as she started to kiss Mia's neck and her hands softly worked her shoulders. "Lie on the bed," she said into her ear. "Face down." Mia followed the orders, stretching out on the small double bed. The room was nothing special, but Annika had forgotten the mildew on the ceiling and the peeling wallpaper as she got the vanilla oil from her overnight bag. Her eyes on Mia's creamy naked body, she slipped out of her dress, wearing only her lacy underwear set and climbed onto the bed, straddling Mia and sitting on her firm round ass. She squirted some oil on Mia's bare back and Mia giggled a little at the unexpected squirt of cool fluid. Annika started rubbing and Mia moaned. She rubbed for a while, feeling Mia relax and the tension leave her muscles. Annika let her hands wander around the front, leaning down and kissing Mia's neck as she fondled Mia's breasts. Mia started making another kind of moan, her hands finding Annika's legs and stroking them. Mia rolled over and they faced each other, kissing on the mouth and pressing their bodies together. Annika's hands travelled over Mia's breasts, lightly teasing her pert nipples and felt Mia unhook her bra. Mia's hands felt incredible, women's caresses were so soft, so lovely - her pussy was so wet, her skin tingly all over. Mia had freed her breasts and now was licking and sucking her breasts, cupping them gently. Annika moaned, throwing her head back in pleasure and tossing her curls out of the way. Annika ran her hands down Mia's stomach to her pussy, tracing around her labia and Mia stared into her eyes lustily, breathing hard. "Is this OK?" Annika whispered, stroking and Mia nodded, biting her lip and then Annika softly stroked the outside lips of Mia's velvety pussy. Mia responded, opening her legs and kissing Annika's neck, as she gently inserted her finger into Mia's pussy, finding her clit and making small circles. Mia sighed, arching her back and pressing her hips into Annika, her hands still on her breasts. Annika kissed her hungrily and then made her way down her neck, down her breasts and kissed a trail down her stomach to her pussy. Still rubbing her clit, she started to kiss her inner thighs and then, removed her fingers and put her tongue in her pussy. Mia let out a cry of pleasure and squirmed, opening her legs wide. Annika held her legs apart as she licked her, travelling around her hole and vulva and then focusing ruthlessly on her clit until Mia screamed out as she came, bucking against Annika. Panting, Mia crawled down to the end of the bed, pinning Annika to the bed and kissing her deeply, tasting her own pussy as she circled down tongue into Annika's mouth. Mia's hand ran down Annika's stomach and down into her lace underwear, finding her dripping wet pussy, she ran her fingers up and down the slit, teasing. Annika quivered, grinding into her fingers, wanting more. Mia stopped to smile at her. "That was the best orgasm I have ever had," she said. "Let me return the favour." Annika was slightly dubious; things would have to be freaky for her to have the hardest orgasm yet - but Mia may surprise her. Annika watched Mia kiss her breasts, breathing hard and then, felt her kiss her way down. Mia pulled down her underwear, discarding them on the floor and opening her legs, running her fingers gently over Annika's pussy, opening her labia and then putting her tongue on her clit, licking. Annika sighed, enjoying the feeling and grabbed Mia's hair, stroking. She was so aroused, she was close to coming and then Mia stopped sucking her clit and started to finger-fuck her whilst kissing her inner thigh. Unexpectedly, she started to lick down lower, and then, her tongue started to split her ass, tunnelling into her anus and her fingers found her clit. "Oh my God!" Annika exclaimed as a wave of pleasure overtook her - the amazing sensation of her clit being rubbed and her ass being licked was blowing her mind and then, moments later, she had an orgasm that started small and went long and hard, for about fifteen to twenty seconds, and she grabbed the sheets, writhing, as Mia continued rubbing and licking until all the tiny aftershocks had subsided. Annika lay there, sweating and trembling, as Mia came up and embraced her. "That was amazing," she whispered and Mia stroked her hair, smiling. Exhausted from the orgasm, Annika thought they had better get back down to the tavern before the boys noticed they were missing and they quickly dressed in the darkened room. As they slipped their shoes on, suddenly, without warning, four booms too loud to be thunder shook the room. The girls grabbed hold of each other, wide-eyed in the moonlight as they froze in place. The sounds subsided, almost fading and Mia said, "What the fuck was that?" Annika, who always liked to have an answer for everything, said, "It sounded like a sonic boom? Earthquake perhaps?" "Maybe." Mia seemed unconvinced as she brushed her hair. "We're trapped here - and I'm beginning to agree with you about this town, Annika. Between the creep in the hall and that sound, I can't wait until we can leave..." Great Old One Pt. 03 ***Thanks to everyone who has commented and given feedback! I am sorry this part of the story doesn't have much erotic or horror content - but it is headed somewhere good, I promise!*** ***** In the early hours of the next morning, as dawn started to break, Annika and Chris were asleep, naked in each other's arms, when the next set of booms woke them up. Annika slept lightly and roused Chris, wanting to know what the sounds were. Chris was unconcerned and went back to sleep. Unable to return to her dreams, Annika got out of bed and padded into the small bathroom. She bundled her long platinum hair into a high bun and gazed into the mirror, admiring herself and thinking about last night. Gorgeous Mia, her hot tongue in her ass, the mindblowing orgasm; and then, later that night, Chris had fucked her for almost two hours. Drunk sex suited him well – it gave him a long-lasting hard-on and he could cum and cum, and keep fucking. They kept changing positions, sex acts and she lost count of her orgasms. As he drove his cock into her, he even made up a story about her disappearing to fuck Mia...if he only knew! Annika thought of this, standing at the vanity unit and watching herself in the mirror as she played with her moist pussy and feeling it respond further, swelling hotly in her fingers as she stroked and tickled. She touched lighter, pretending that it was Mia – and then firmly, thinking of Chris. She gazed into her big blue eyes, enjoying the expression of pleasure on her face as she succumbed to the delicious sensations. If only she could fuck a man and a woman at the same time! She imagined getting fucked from behind by a huge cock whilst licking a juicy wet pussy and grabbing round bouncy tits and her breathing quickened. Her fingers started to rub rather than stroke and she fell into the wonderful trance, feeling her body melt into the orgasm and then explode. She bit her lip, trying not to moan loudly – even when masturbating, she cried out when she came – and then she rode it, hard. She caught her breath for a moment and then recollected her thoughts, gathering her toiletries and returning to reality. Annika started the shower, groaning in frustration as brown water spewed from the old twisted bronze faucet in the cracked tiles. She climbed into the cramped recess, watching the water begin to turn clear but not warm up. She didn't linger to enjoy herself as she usually did – she cleansed her skin and got out, using the only towel provided. Silent, she rushed her beauty routine and kept her hair in the bun. She felt crabby, she hoped they could leave this terrible place this morning. Even though she might run into the delectable Mia, she pulled on her small cut-off denim shorts and a singlet. Not a pretty outfit like her cherry dress, but at least it showed a lot of skin and was comfortable. Chris was awake now and using his smartphone to check whether the storm had cleared. Annika wasn't listening as he tried to give her scientific reasons for what the booms probably were. "Can we just go down to the boat and leave?" she interrupted. "You don't want breakfast here? There's a place down from the tavern that does a kind of chorizo omelette..." "No." Chris raised his eyebrows; he knew better than to engage her when she was in a bad mood and he helped her pack their bags in silence. They went downstairs to the lobby, which was empty. There was nobody at the desk and the stale air smelled like decayed books and burned bacon. Annika said impatiently, "For fuck's sake, just leave the key there! We paid our money for the lousy room so let's just go!" To avoid her rising temper, Chris tossed the key onto the messy desk, watching it land on top of an open guestbook. He was a careful guy and even something small like this annoyed his sense of right, Annika watched it all over his broad handsome face. She smiled at him, charming him and grabbed his large hand in hers, pulling him out the heavy wooden doors and into the street. It was dank and humid yet cool, foggy; the streets were still wet from the rain the previous night. Few people were around; Annika thought it was perhaps early morning, after seven. The town didn't have many people circulating in the streets after they docked or in the evening, but seeing it this quiet, in a morning, was especially eerie. The oppressive air, paired with silence, bore down on them as they walked, their footfalls echoing. "I can't even remember where the dock is," Annika grumbled, looking around the towering shops and buildings, claustrophobia settling in. "I hate this place, I am beginning to hate these towns, can we just go back to Amsterdam?" "Sure, babe," Chris said, leading her down a small crevice-like alley and annoyance tore at Annika – Chris always had to take a creepy shortcut like this – and she followed his tall large form, for some reason thinking of the brick-walled hallway in Herman Hesse's 'Steppenwolf' and wondering whether there were alternate past memories or different realities behind the cramped little doors. Chris was talking about some mythos or cult this town used to have in the nineteenth century, he was such a history nerd and she wasn't in the mood like she usually was. She was thankful when they came out of the alley, into the docking area and the fog seemed less dense. She squinted down the jetty, trying to distinguish which hulking boat shape on the strangely flat water was theirs. "Huh." "What?" Annika looked at Chris, not liking the concern on his brow. "I just don't see The Legend of Zelda." "What?" Annika blinked at him and looked over to the dock, suddenly realising that she only saw fishing sloops and other smaller and older watercraft standing in the fog, tied to posts. Bright, white and large, Zelda had stood out yesterday as they had docked – ostentatiously so. Their girl – and their ride – was mysteriously gone. "What the fucking fuck?" Annika spat, dropping her bag and looking around, wild-eyed and Chris placed his hands on her shoulders, placating her. "Honey, I'll find some of the guys. Maybe they moved her?" But the look of uncertainty permeated his hazel eyes – a look that Annika simply was not used to seeing in his dependable face – and this made her almost hyperventilate. "We're stuck here? We're fucking stuck here? In this creepy little fishing village? Oh hell no!" "Annika," he said calmly. "Stay here, with the bags. I will be back. You just stay here and be cool." She hated being told to be cool, it just wasn't in her nature. She glared hotly at his retreating back as he wandered down the dock, looking for someone. She sighed, squatting down onto the bags and trying to relax. There has to be a plausible explanation, she thought. She couldn't come up with one and she tried to ignore a group of men staring at her from buildings nearby. She wondered if it was her hair – most of the women she had seen in town were darkly brunette, perhaps her blondeness held a special novelty. She tried to regard them kindly but it came across as a scowl. "It sank." Annika jumped to her feet, staring at her husband in disbelief. He stood there, his face blank. He scratched his head, looking at the water, looking at the horizon, almost like he was hoping the yacht would reappear. "The storm..." he said and his voice drifted off. Annika noticed men near the docked boats staring and grinning. "It didn't sink," she said, gritting her teeth. "They sank our boat, Chris! They want us here! They're obsessed with me! They were obsessed from the moment we arrived and now they destroyed our boat, our only way out! What the hell do they want from us?" "Shh," Chris hissed, taking her bare shoulders in his big comforting hands. "Look into my eyes, Annika." She refused, still eyeballing the leering men. "They're still looking. They think this is great. They did it, I know it. You always accuse me of being dramatic – but this time, there is something to this!" Chris persisted, his melodic voice calm, even. "If this is so, Annika. I agree this is suspicious. The storm did not seem vicious enough to sink such a large yacht. What is losing our cool going to do?" Annika felt drained and flopped against him, burying her face into his huge chest. She wanted to cry. "What do we do?" Chris paused, stroking her hair. Annika could almost feel him watching the men, his gaze methodical and intense. "We go back into town," he said. "We get some supplies and we hide whilst we work out what to do next." Great Old One Pt. 04 Annika and Chris had found what seemed to be an old abandoned pastoral centre, behind the disused cemetery. Chris emailed and used the internet to do things whilst Annika sat on her bag, staring at the slivers of light coming in from the boarded windows. She felt depressed and angry in equal measures; almost wanting to be defiant and run down the streets, looking aggressively for whoever had the audacity to sabotage their yacht. At least Chris was taking her concern seriously -- although the very fact he was, worried her all the more. "I was talking to David," Chris said. David was his friend on the federal police. "He is getting on to Interpol. I gave him our GPS. The satellite phone and a lot of the tech was on the yacht, but I have my phone, which has internet and email, so we have some stuff. We're going to be OK, Annika." Annika felt relieved and she forced a smile. "This has been so horrible," she said. "Thanks for sorting it out..." "It's not over yet," Chris said, getting a candy bar out of his bag. He frowned, peeling off the wrapper. "I hope Richard and Mia aren't experiencing the same thing. They had a yacht and were forced to dock too." Annika snapped to attention. "Should we look for them?" Chris stood up. "I'll go out," he said. "You stay here. You have your phone on you? I'll forward you my communications with David. You can call him if you need to." Annika nodded, not really wanting to talk to David -- fast-talking, over-inflated ego, always coming on to her when Chris wasn't around. She wanted to see Mia again -- but she also felt a sense of dread about Mia's safety. Chris returned with Richard and Mia. Their boat was intact but they were disturbed by what Chris told them and eager to help. On the way up the hill to the pastoral centre, the three of them had hatched a plan about escaping at night in their boat. David had said Interpol had not prioritised their case and it could be a while until agents could rescue them. Annika and Mia met in a hug, meant to be a friendly 'hello' embrace, but it became lingering and difficult to break. Mia smelled amazing -- her soft hair was like cashmere and her skin held the heady scent of French perfume and sex. She was wearing a pale pink sundress that hugged her curves and showcased her beautiful creamy skin. Her huge eyes widened as she gazed into Annika's -- she wanted to kiss Annika as badly as Annika wanted to kiss her -- and the two women drew apart reluctantly, standing back with their men, watching each other longingly. Annika's breathing had quickened; the effect Mia had was overwhelming. A blush rose in her cheeks and she could feel her pussy pound with moist excitement. The boys had started discussing the course to take tonight. Impulsively, Annika said, "How about we explore this crazy building?" Mia chewed her lips, her luminescent light jade eyes glowing. "Is that OK, Rich?" she asked. The boys shrugged and Chris added, "Be careful, babe," and the girls grinned at each other, thrilled, as they walked away, towards a narrow spiral staircase. Annika paused before she set foot on it and looked upwards -- it seemed to get narrower as it ascended -- and she looked to Mia. Mia laughed and started to run up the stairs. Annika watched the structure shake underneath her weight; but not wanting to seem scared -- and also, badly wanting to follow this gorgeous woman, she commenced the climb, ensuring her footfalls were as light as possible. Dust cloaked the air as they climbed upwards and when they reached the next level, it was apparent that it had not been used in a long time. Most of the attic level was cloaked in dust and particles lazily floated on the air. Annika looked around at the crates and chests, squinting in the dim light as she tried to discern what may be within the confines of the boxes. The place seemed like a disused Christian pastoral centre -- and most of these towns previous to this one had been Christian -- but this one bore few signs of religiosity. The fact that the best hiding spot that she and Chris found was a religious centre raised her hackles. She was going to share this concern when Mia pressed her full plump lips onto hers, hard, in a passionate kiss. Annika responded, her hands catching in Mia's silky brunette locks as her tongue started exploring her mouth, relishing the taste of her and drunk on her intoxicating smells. Mia's hands crept up Annika's singlet, wrenching her breasts out of the restraints of her bra and pinching and teasing her nipples. Annika clenched her thighs together, rubbing her pussy and moaned into Mia's mouth. She could hear the drone of the boys' conversation downstairs and somehow, that made it hotter. She wished Chris could be cool enough about her bisexuality to watch her with another woman; but it wasn't so. This form of exhibitionism was as good as it was going to get. Mia's soft fingers moved to her skin, making her sigh and press against her. Annika's hands dropped from Mia's hair down to her ass, grabbing hard and pulling her hips against her own. Mia's mouth started moving on Annika's neck and Annika bit down on her lower lip, feeling her breath and kisses flutter a trail down her sensitive skin to her breasts. Mia's hands moved from Annika's breasts down to the button of her jean cut-offs and Annika almost said no as she imagined Chris' furious reaction to walking up the stairs and seeing this. However, lust took over and she whimpered as Mia undid her shorts and pulled them down, kissing her mound through her silk panties. Annika gazed down at Mia's dark brunette head, stroking her glossy hair as the beautiful woman pulled aside her panties and started to kiss and tease her labia. She withdrew her breath sharply, her legs shaky with desire. "I need to sit down," Annika whispered and she found a nearby crate covered in a white sheet, falling back on her ass, legs out. Mia was merciless and took this moment to pull down her panties, exposing the slick pink folds of her swollen wet pussy. Mia kissed up her legs, using the way the panties and jean cut-offs bound Annika's ankles as a noose with one hand as she held her in place. Excited by being tied, Annika watched her and spread her pelvic area wide. Mia met her eyes as she started to lick Annika's pussy, slowly and languorously, using her tongue firmly on the slit. Annika was pinned on the crate, her legs open, hypnotised by Mia as she ate her cunt. She badly wanted to cry out, to moan, to communicate the intense pleasure she felt, but she was acutely aware of Richard and Chris and their planning session downstairs. This thought titillated her further, bringing her closer to orgasm and she grabbed a handful of Mia's hair, yanking it urgently. Mia paused from her lapping to smile knowingly at Annika, enjoying her torment and then she returned to circling her tongue around her swollen clit, teasing the hood and gently stroking the tip of her tongue along its girth. That sent Annika over the edge and she had to bite her own arm to stop from screaming her orgasm across the pastoral centre. Tingling and breathing hard, Annika watched Mia climb up to her, tangling her hands in Annika's blonde hair and kissing her mouth. Annika moaned as she tasted her pussy on Mia's tongue and her hands wandered up Mia's dress, grabbing her firm round ass. Mia straddled her, ass in the air. She was wearing skimpy lace and satin panties and Annika pulled them aside as she worked her fingers into her soaking wet pussy. Mia whimpered, pressing her soft breasts into Annika's and her cunt into her fingers as her kisses became harder and more urgent. Annika stroked Mia's velvety wetness, wishing she had time to linger more and found the heat of her swelling clit. Mia cried out a little, twitching and Annika hushed her as she rubbed. "I'm so close," Mia whispered pleadingly and Annika silenced her with her tongue. The stairs creaked, indicating some weight on them and Annika heard Chris call her name. She rubbed Mia's clit firmly, looking into Mia's heavy lidded green eyes as she came hard, opening her beautiful mouth wide. Annika watched her, struck by her beauty and intensely aroused by her orgasm. She stroked Mia's pussy gently with one hand as it twitched, still cumming and she said in a perfectly even tone, "What is it, Chris?" "Are you guys OK up there? You went quiet." The two girls shared a smile. Annika said, "Yes, we're great." "Alright, we need you down here, we've put together a course. And we've got a plan." The girls smiled again as they disentangled and got to their feet, helping each other straighten their outfits before going downstairs. Before descending the stairs, they paused, sharing one last kiss and a private smile. Annika went down first, her flip flops slapping on the unsteady stairs. The boys were still seated on their bags; Chris, with his reading glasses on his nose, looking at his iPhone and Richard, punching away at the keyboard of his laptop. The boys showed them some maps and discussed how they would leave just as twilight set in, when the dark gave adequate cover -- and Chris predicted the docks and streets should be relatively deserted. Annika watched him. He exuded his usual calm confidence but he was rattled, unsure whether this was going to work. He chewed on the arm of his reading glasses as he spoke and his eyes moved a lot. She wasn't sure either, but it seemed like they had few remaining choices so she agreed they should proceed, tuning out Chris' dreary risk scenarios. She walked over to a boarded window, gazing out into the bright sunshine and looking at the grassy tombstones. She wondered where the town buried their dead, if not here. The graveyard was not even half full and appeared to have been abandoned a long time ago. A prickle of unease unsettled her and she realised she saw a figure watching the centre, only meters away in the grass, next to some crooked old tombs. It was the tall thin man in black robes from the previous night. His skin was deathly white, grey-toned, wrinkled, and bald -- in the sun, he seemed inhuman and ghastly. Two black holes where his eyes were bore into her, seeming to hollow out her insides. His head was skull-like, gory. He was staring, still like the tombs, bony and kind of hunched. He was so awful she wanted to scream but instead, she softly called out to the others. They came over and Mia said, "Oh, it is that creep we saw last night..." and then she recounted a quick tale about how they saw this man in the hallway. The boys looked him over, relatively unperturbed until Annika insisted, "He was staring at us! He is in on this and now he has found us! I know this somehow!" "Well, he is creepy," Chris conceded. He scratched his stubble and frowned outside. Annika could see him deciding whether or not to take her claim seriously. "Maybe he's an old pervert thinking you girls were going into your room to get naked or something?" Richard chuckled and Annika blushed. Mia sighed. "Now is not the time for levity, Rich. And, by the way, you wish." She tossed him a pert wink and Annika watched them, wondering whether Richard supported Mia's desires. He seemed to. She was distracted by envying them and then returned to the moment, eyeing her own husband as he watched the thin tall man in robes. "Is he some kind of priest?" she asked. "I told you, they have no religion here," Chris said. "What?" Mia said, aghast. Chris lit up. He got to share his story at last. "A rich man moved here in the mid nineteenth century and brainwashed townsfolk into worshipping something mysterious in the sea. Fishermen love stories like that. Apparently the uprising against the church was bloody and the mainland didn't take too kindly to the murder and mayhem so the cult went underground then died out." "Why didn't the church return?" Annika wanted to know. "The townsfolk, and mainlanders, think this place is cursed," Chris said. "There have been multiple attempts to resuscitate Christianity here but each parish has been killed. Natural causes, or accidents, but dead is dead. I guess they practice faith in their own way privately." They were all quiet, watching the man outside. "Then what the fuck is he?" Annika asked. Her tone was getting abrasive, she couldn't help but feel panic. "One of those murderous cult people?" Her words hung in the air as they stood by the boarded window. Mia took her arm gently, stroking. "It will be OK," she whispered. "We will just wait here until the sun goes down and then leave this weird town. Right, guys?" Both the men muttered their agreeance but no-one sounded confident or comfortable. The shadows in the boneyard were lengthening; Annika glanced down at her watch. It was three in the afternoon. She wondered whether the tall man was there for surveillance or whether he was the first of the welcoming party. She swallowed uneasily and shifted her weight. It had been difficult to tell due to the storm but the sun had dipped at about six last night; twilight emerged at around seven. Four more hours to wait. Was it really that wise to just stay inside this boarded old building like trapped rabbits? "I think we need to leave this place, now," Annika said. The others looked at her, wide-eyed. Chris frowned, thinking. "OK," he said, picking up his bag. "That man is at the south end of this place. The door is west. He might not notice us leaving. We need to go quickly and quietly." Great Old One Pt. 05 Annika, Mia, Chris and Richard had left the old pastoral centre, leaving what remained of Christianity in this town, and the thin man, behind them as they found a narrow alley jutting downhill between houses and walked until some distance was put between them and the centre. No one said anything as they looked around for dangers and Mia held Annika's hand tightly. Annika felt sick with fear. Her breathing was fast and she tried to control her anxiety as she followed the boys. Chris always had a way out, she thought. That usually dispelled her worries but being trapped in this kooky town with no yacht and being stalked by a bony pale man who barely looked human was fraying her rationality. An older woman hanging washing in a yard paused to stare directly at Annika and she gulped, averting her eyes. She wondered if even an elderly woman, possibly a grandmother, could be some kind of demonic informant - or whether paranoia was overwhelming her. Chris had stopped just before the alley intersected with a street. "The problem is, we don't know who we need to avoid," he said, peering out. "I think we just assume everyone," Annika said. "Where does that leave us?" Richard was looking at his GPS on his phone. "I think we cross here and perhaps keep on heading towards the dock then go left. I noticed some boat sheds earlier. That could be a good hideout?" Everyone agreed to this and when the small laneway emptied, they crossed, re-entering the cramped alley and continuing to walk down the hill until coming to the small intersecting path Richard had mentioned. They walked until coming to a six foot cast iron fence that blocked their way. "We can climb it," Chris said, shaking it to test sturdiness. They tossed their bags over first and agreed the girls would go last so they could be lifted over. The boys climbed over and Annika insisted that Mia went first. No one noticed the faces in the windows in the buildings above them. Annika held Mia steady as she started to scale the fence. "I haven't climbed a fence since I was eight," Mia said, nervous. "I broke my wrist in four places. I still have scars." She took her hand off the fence to show Annika, who laughed despite the situation. "Put your hand back on the fence or you'll break more bones, silly!" Annika smiled, helping boost Mia up and letting her hands linger on her ass. She badly wanted to put her hands up her dress and find her pussy but it wasn't the time - or place - for that. Mia awkwardly stepped over the spiked top of the fence, flashing her panties a little and the boys watched her closely, helping her as they grabbed around her small waist. Mia smiled down at Annika fondly but then the smile died on her face, becoming a look of horror. Annika didn't notice the men behind her but screamed in alarm as a black hood was thrown over her head and numerous strong arms took her roughly from behind. Something hard hit her skull and she lost consciousness, hearing her friends shout as she went under. xxxxxxxxxxxxxx Annika woke up, her eyes still closed, her head pulsating. She became aware that she was lying on a hard steel surface and she could feel something tight around her chest. She felt cool air on bare skin - she was naked. The air smelled damp, limey. Her mouth was dry and she felt nauseous, kind of hungover, she opened her eyes a slit and was dazzled by overhead white lights. She ran her tongue over her teeth, trying to move a little and realising she was tied to a table. Then a deep resonant voice spoke. "I was waiting for you to wake up, Annika." How did he know her name? Annika opened her eyes wide and squinted against the lights. She was in a square room with bluestone walls, dark except for the round fluorescent light above the steel medical table. Plasticised marine rope tied her onto the table around her torso, her bare breasts above the binds. Her bare legs were spread open, in stirrups. She gasped in terror, her vulnerability apparent to her. She looked to the shadowy corner, where a tall shape stood and asked, "Who are you?" The man-shape stepped from the corner and Annika's breath caught in her throat as she took in the towering handsome dark man. He had a looming face, messy black hair and piercing black eyes that pinned her in place, violating her being. He was otherworldly and cloaked in a dark presence - the way he walked and stared at her was predatory, cruel - and yet, he aroused and intrigued her like no one else had before. He stood over her naked body, slowly taking her in, his eyes lingering on her exposed pussy and breasts. His flinty hard eyes came back to her face and he gave her an unpleasant and arrogant smile. "My name is Nicholas Bloodstone," he said in that deep lightly accented voice. Annika shivered, gazing up into his bottomless black eyes, powerless. He extended a large elegant white hand out to touch her platinum hair, which had been released from its bun. Annika took in his well-cut black suit. It seemed antique...old-styled? My mysterious captor is a throwback, she thought in amazement. "Why am I here?" she asked. She swallowed, her eyes imploring him. "Will you untie me please?" "I can't do that, Annika," Nicholas said, almost sounding disappointed. "I need you here. I need to prepare you for him." "Him? Who?" "The Great Old One." "What?" Annika strained against her bonds, scowling up at Nicholas. "That old creep in the robe? Just let me go. Now!" Nicholas laughed indulgently, his hand still stroking her hair and then moving down to stroke her cheek. This stopped her and she watched him, frozen in place and dazed, as he looked deeply into her eyes. He ran his finger over her full red lips, appreciation on his stoic features and he said, "I am his servant. I have been his servant for over one thousand years. He knew you were coming and he made the storm. He bought you to us and now he wants you. He always likes a beauty." He ran his finger down her jaw now, down her throat, his stoicism flickering as his lust showed. "It is my job to prepare you for him, to make you as he likes them." He was scaring Annika and she tried not to show it. "OK, weirdo. Cut the shit. What is going on? Thousands of years? You look like you're in your late thirties!" Nicholas chuckled and his fingers traced down the valley between her breasts. Her breathing quickened. "He came to me when I was thirty-seven," he said, his eyes still on hers. "He made me immortal on the proviso that I serve his needs. I came to this town and tried to convert these commonfolk." He raised his elegant black brows. "It got...messy." Annika recalled Chris' story about the wealthy man and the sea worshipping cult. She stared at Nicholas in disbelief. "Who is The Great Old One?" she whispered. Nicholas laughed, enjoying his dominant position and then he cupped one of her breasts in his hand. Annika gasped, trying to sound outraged, despite the moist arousal tingling in her pussy. She hissed, "Stop...touching...me!" He stroked her round breast, running his fingers over her erect nipple. He smirked at her, his intense eyes still pinning her down and leaned down, his mouth taking her nipple in. She felt his warm mouth and tongue on her sensitive nipple and she moaned despite herself. "He lets me play with his sluts," Nicholas said, his other hand running down her stomach. "As long as I don't cum in them. You are the only one I have chosen to touch. You are very lovely." His hand reached her slit, running his finger along its dampness and she whimpered, squirming. He sneered at her, contemptuous. "You are a whore however. I saw you lie with that brown-haired lady. You have an insatiable cunt. I cannot feel bad about your fate." "Fuck you," Annika snapped, now squirming in an attempt to get away and Nicholas laughed, pleased. He walked around to stand in between her wide-open spread legs, hung uselessly in the stirrups and crouched down to inspect her pussy. Annika tried to crane her neck. "Stop," she said urgently. "Just...let me go. We have money, we can pay you." Nicholas laughed again. It was dark and mocking - pitying almost. "We don't care for money," he said and she felt his breath on her inner thighs. Hysteria welled within her chest and she swallowed a sob. "Please," she said. "Please let me go." She held her breath as she felt his mouth on her pussy, his big tongue entering her hole, thrusting inside. His white hands grabbed her hips, pulling her into his face, his mouth drinking her in mercilessly. She cried out, her voice echoing off the stone walls. Pleasure assaulted her hard as his mouth owned her soaking cunt and she succumbed to him, moaning as she writhed, on the edge and about to come on his face. His long big tongue started to lap her clit, firmly and it pushed her over the edge hard. She screamed loudly, struggling against his hands as he forced her onto his face. Her pussy twitched violently with orgasm and he kept licking and sucking, drinking her in, and she cried out, overwhelmed. He was not letting her go and she was about to come again, the pressure building and then exploding. Her legs shook and she thrashed hard, trying to escape him and he paused to laugh at her pathetic efforts. Then he was back, abusing her clit with his determined tongue and now finger-fucking her, easily finding her swelling G-spot. Annika was in another dimension - a haze of orgasmic stupor, she stared at the light, her mouth wide open as she cried out another orgasm. No one had ever eaten her like this and she couldn't handle it, she felt weak and tremulous, about to snap. "Please...no more!" she cried out and he ignored her, his large tongue thrashing against her swollen cunt until he stood, pulling out his cock and lining the head with the entrance to pussy. "I'm not meant to fuck you," Nicholas breathed, his other hand grabbing her breast hard. "But I am going to." He pushed his large cock into her and she gasped as his tip nudged in, poking her swollen throbbing G-spot and then pushing past, filling her. They both moaned as he went in to the hilt, his balls grinding against her asshole and he started to thrust hard. Annika let out little cries, enjoying every moment of his cock pumping inside her. It hit her G-spot and rubbed other spots she never knew existed. Her eyes half open, she gazed up at Nicholas, realising that this was the best sex in her life. It was like his cock had been cast to fill her cunt - to stimulate every little bump inside her. She kept moaning and raised to meet his thrusts, pushing against him as another orgasm approached, ravishing her body hard and making her scream out. Grinning, Nicholas kissed her mouth and then her breasts, just before he gasped and then came inside her. He thrust his cum into her, enjoying his orgasm and then he pulled out, his huge cock slick with the nectar of their sex. Annika watched him, breathing hard and admiring his immense attractiveness. A flush had built in his face and he forced his cock into her face, making her lick the sex off his cock and balls. As she licked and sucked, his fingers went down to her pussy, playing until she came again, moaning around his thick cock. He pulled his cock out of her mouth and bought his large hand to her mouth, it was full of his pearly cum and he forced her to eat it. "He better not see this," he whispered, watching her lick his hand. "He would kill me." Annika sucked Nicholas' fingers, her eyes lost in his and mesmerised by him. After his hand was clean, he pushed her face back and kissed her cheek. "Farewell, Annika," he whispered and ran his hand down her face. He looked at her lingeringly and then turned his back, walking towards the door. "Wait!" she cried. "Please, don't go!" But he ignored her; opening the door and disappearing into darkness. Great Old One Pt. 06 Annika lay alone in the room, tied to the table, her legs in stirrups. Her skin still burned from the incredible sex with the mysterious man named Nicholas who claimed to be over one thousand years old. Her bare exposed pussy was swollen, hot. She could still taste his salty cum. She called his name again, listening to her voice echo off the bluestone walls back at her. She reflected on the odd information he had given her and tried to make sense of it. The door opened and Annika turned her head to see three women walk into the room. They were dour, heavyset and overweight, serious in grey maid uniforms. One held a galvanised steel bucket, Annika saw the next one hang a white lace dress up on the door and the final one stood at the door. She had a blunderbuss. Annika stared at the women and the weapon, her aching mind struggling with the odd puzzle. "Help me, please untie me!" she begged them and hated the pleading whine in her voice. "A man just raped me! Please, before he returns!" The women did not speak to her. The woman with the bucket walked over and as if she was washing an inanimate object, took a square orange sponge from the soapy water and started to scrub Annika's sprawled legs. Annika asked her what was happening. She looked appealingly at the women, who ignored her, regarding her, and her fate, with indifference. It was this uncaring that stung and Annika - the woman who washed her wore bright yellow industrial rubber gloves, as if she were infectious or somehow sub-human - and she felt tears of desperation prick her eyes. "I think this Nicholas, or this old one, this tall priest or whoever, they are planning to kill me," she said as evenly as she could. The woman kept scrubbing up her leg methodically. "Please, you are women too...please help me here..." Annika winced as the woman started sponging and douching her pussy, her touch was too firm and she was sore after Nicholas' large cock thrusting in hard repeatedly. This was humiliating and she saw the other women standing still, watching impassively. She closed her eyes tight, tears rolling down her cheeks. She bit back to urge to beg again. These women did not care. What did Nicholas say? He 'prepared' women for whoever The Great Old One was? Was this a part of the preparation? The sponging moved to her ass and she whispered, "No, stop, no," but the wet rough round object kept loofahing into her ass cheeks, getting into her anus. It spread her rosebud, forcing in and twisting, thrusting up into her ass. Annika cried out a little, said no again. Tears spilled over again and then the sponge went away, she heard a splash of water and the soaked sponge was back, rubbing between her legs, the outside of her pussy and ass now. She opened her eyes, imploring the doughy faced older woman. Perhaps she did not know English? "El alto," she tried. "La pausa." The women still did not react. "I beg your mercy," she whispered, defeated and the sponge came up her torso, ripping at her nipples and making her large breasts bounce. The woman attacked them as if they were an item of particular offence - or dirtiness - scrubbing hard and Annika squirmed, whimpering. Her pale breasts were turning a deep crimson as the large heavyset arm and hand kept rubbing. The rope under them pushed them upwards, making them look like they welcomed this punishment and they were bucking for more. "Hurting me," she gasped. "Please, no..." Then the hand went to her shoulders, almost gently flipping her long platinum hair out of the way. Bewildered, Annika looked over to the dress, the women at the door, the blunderbuss. She wondered what was coming as the washer woman finished scrubbing her arms and flopped the sponge into the bucket. She dropped it on the floor and then looked meaningfully at the woman with the blunderbuss, who walked closer. The washer woman unbuckled the stirrups and said, "Still." Her voice was authoritative and commanding. Annika watched the gun, deciding to cooperate. The third woman walked over and used a large blade to cut a part of the rope. Annika said, "Thank-you," as it unravelled, releasing her torso. Angry red welts from the rope imprinted her pale skin where she had been bound. The woman with the blunderbuss pointed the weapon at her and said, her face expressionless, "Stand." Annika slowly sat up, aware of her nudity and how her body ached. The dampness from the sponge had dried and it left an unpleasant residue on her skin. It smelled like old fashioned soap flakes - harsh, nasty, fake clean smell. She stood up, her bare feet finding the concrete floor and planting down. Her legs shook as she stood and she was painfully aware of her pussy, her bare jiggling breasts. One of the women passed her the white lace dress and she did not need to hear the command to dress. Annika thought it seemed like an antique wedding dress, with its high-neck and long lace arms. The skirts were ruffled, waving down from her hips. It had a zipper up the back and she attempted to reach it, surprised when one of the women drove it up for her. Without a bra, her large 8G breasts were free to move and she felt embarrassed again, standing before these sharp-eyed dour women wearing an odd wedding dress, her platinum hair in long gnarled tangles, chipped black nail polish and no underwear. Tears filled her eyes again and she gulped, maintaining her composure. "Walk," the woman with the blunderbuss commanded and another woman opened the door. Annika felt nervous and hopeful as she was led into the dank small hallway. It had concrete floors and the same bluestone walls, round fluorescent lights running straight down the roof, lighting the way. She squinted, her temples throbbing and she could discern a lift - an old-style one with a cast-iron cage. Suddenly, a desire to see sunshine and breathe fresh air hit her. She had been afraid she would die in the claustrophobic room, restrained on the steel table, nude with her legs held open. "Where is Nicholas?" she asked as they walked towards the lift. "Mr Bloodstone?" The women looked sharply at her and one said, in fractured accented English, "You will call the Lord by his title, Lord Bloodstone." Annika licked her lips, nervous. She averted her eyes as their eyes penetrated her hotly. "I am sorry," she said and they stopped at the elevator entrance. A woman slid open the door and they ushered her inside. "Am I being taken to the Lord?" Annika asked. The three women ignored her. One woman pressed a button and the old elevator jolted to life. She stumbled and a strong hand grabbed her arm, steadying her - but also holding her still. "The Great Old One, am I correct? You prepared me?" Two women glanced at each other. Imperceptible irritation passed through them in the dim elevator. Annika realised she was talking too much and the blunderbuss was shoved into her ribs. She took the hint, subdued and looking at her bare feet. She assessed her options. She had a small frame and was shorter than all three women. Even without the gun they could physically dominate her - but she might be quicker. She held this idea, demurely raising her face as the elevator churned to a stop and one of the women pushed open the cage door. The woman with the blunderbuss pushed her in the small of the back and she walked, out of the elevator, and gasped. Nothing had quite prepared her for this... Great Old One Pt. 07 ***Thanks to everyone who has commented or given me feedback! I am humbled by the kind words and admiration! ...there is more to come, perhaps 1-2 more parts. Keep letting me know what you think! -QP*** ***** Annika was in a room, large, with the same bluestone walls and high arching timber ceilings. It was undeniably a church, yet it had been transformed, for other means. At the altar, a large circular pit gaped darkly in the ground. Lord Nicholas Bloodstone and a group of men in black robes, including the old tall man, stood at its mouth. In the dark wooden pews facing the altar, townspeople sat solemnly. Some turned to view Annika as she was nudged from the elevator from the three washerwomen. Most of them did not look at her. They were dressed in black, serious, still. They seemed like mannequins. Annika thought it was like they were attending a Christian funeral and this realisation chilled her as she passed pews, taking it all in, wide-eyed. Besides the elevator which seemed to replace the confession boxes, the altar was perhaps the most modified part of the church. The yawning abyss, perhaps two metres wide, lined with a bluestone lip, was concerning. It sat in the middle of the altar, close to the pulpit, which had black curtains and a gold symbol with what looked like a monstrous octopus embossed on it. Annika stared at it, thinking about what Chris said about the sea stories. Her imagination conjured a tentacle beast, redolent of a Kraken, desirous of human sacrifices and she cried out, "No!" Annika was close to the pulpit and the grey-clad washerwoman with the blunderbuss hit her in the ribs, trying to silence her. She barely noticed the sting and she fell to her knees, staring at the priests, at Nicholas, who towered over her, menacing and powerful. She gasped for breath, looking around at the people in the pews, who seemed to be under a spell or within a trance. The moment was horrific, surreal. Her temples pounded and she wanted to be sick. "Annika, my dear," Nicholas said, his voice like silk, gliding towards her with his hand extended. He was so tall; perhaps six foot nine inches in height and this added to his presence. At his feet, Annika gazed up, submitting. She allowed him to help her to her feet; cognizant that she looked wretched, with her hair tangled, her dark eye-make up smudged and her oddly fitting white antique dress. The Lord who had fucked her - perhaps against her will, but perhaps she had enjoyed every moment - took her hand delicately. She grasped his elegant white hand in both of hers and she wet her lips as she recalled how his long fingers had been skilled at rubbing her clit to an earth-shattering orgasm. She remembered him licking her and she was amazed at how composed he was, how statuesque he was in front of her. His cold black eyes regarded her with pity - and Annika loosened her grip on his hands as she saw a cruel smile curve his mouth. He was enjoying this! And a hot jolting instinct shouted at her that there was worse to come. "Interpol have been notified," she hissed at him. "If you let me go now, I won't tell them that you touched me. Your little game is no longer amusing! So release me right now! Or else!" Nicholas chuckled. "The whore threatens me," he mocked. "She wants to cry rape, although she clearly wanted it. But I need to be nice to you now. You are chosen, after all." Annika glared up at him. "I want you to let me go. I want to see my husband." Nicholas smirked. "You will see him. Afterwards." "After what?" He laughed softly and turned away from her, looking at the townspeople in the pews calculatingly. "They're all here to bear witness to you, Annika. They need this." "What?" Annika cried out, confused. She chose this moment to try to run and then Nicholas grabbed her. He was very fast and now in his huge arms, pressed against his big hard body, she realised that there was no escaping whatever was coming. "Don't make me tie you up again, Annika," he murmured in her hair. She was angry to feel his hardening cock digging into her stomach as he held her. This was arousing him! "Just tell me what you're going to do to me," she said, wetting her lips nervously. He ignored her. Suddenly, every person in the pews rose to their feet silently. Shaken, Annika took her eyes off Nicholas and twisted to look at them, observing their zombie-like gait, bulging glassy eyes and stoic faces. They seemed hypnotised? Half-asleep? "Hello?" she called to them. "Can anyone help me?" The people started to chant in a low murmur- it wasn't Spanish or English, Annika was sure it was Latin. They stared ahead, still, lips moving. Annika looked back to Nicholas, who was smiling benevolently. "Come on, Annika," he said gently, kindly. "I can promise you Chris is fine. And your new friends. They are being cared for. They will be cared for as you will be." Annika swallowed. "They're not being harmed?" "No," he said softly. "Far from it. They are with a chosen one. This has happened before, the authorities will be turned away and when it is over, you can all leave. I promise you." This made little sense but it gave Annika some hope. "Promise me?" she asked, looking up at him. "If you are a good slut," Nicholas breathed and before Annika could protest, he pressed his mouth on hers, kissing her hungrily. His big tongue pushed into her mouth, invading her and pressing in deep. Despite her terror and anger, Annika responded, feeling her pussy grow wet and warm, allowing his hands to cup her face as he intensified the kiss. His hands ran over her body and he moaned appreciatively. In her ear he whispered, his breath on her neck, "You will like the sex, Annika. They all do...but you, you especially will." Annika stared at him in shock. "What?" Nicholas gave her one of his arrogant secretive chuckles. "Get on your knees and face the pews." Annika looked at the priests, the Lord and then the washerwomen, considering rebellion but finding herself getting to her knees and facing the pews. The white lace skirt splayed around her on the black carpet and her bare knees ached, the ground was very hard through the floor covering. The black clad crowd stood still, their blank faces watching her impassively. "What has been done to you?" she whispered, watching them with pity and fear. Nicholas placed his hand on Annika's head and recited some words, which the people robotically repeated. A priest walked over with a gold and emerald chalice. Nicholas dipped an elegant finger in and rubbed the briny clear fluid on Annika's forehead. "What was that?" she whispered. He placed his hand on her head, ignoring her question and reciting more Latin. Then he grabbed a rough handful of her long blonde hair. "Stand," he commanded and she did. He said some more words, not Latin, they sounded old and strange. Nicholas was looking her in the eye, his black stare pinning her to the ground. His white hand still had her by the hair, forcing her to crane her neck and look at him. Annika tried not to let her pain and fear show. She met his gaze steadily and then he unexpectedly leaned in, grazing his lips against hers. He looked pleased and he whispered, "Sweet dreams...I will see you on the other side, darling slut." Before she could answer, protest or do anything, a black hood was drawn over her head again and in the confusion of the stuffy blackness, she felt something hard strike her on top of her cranium. She lost consciousness, only vaguely aware of her body crumpling to the floor. Great Old One Pt. 08 Annika was having a terrible dream about the strange labyrinth of little pathways and cobble roads in the small fishing town, about being lost, alone and scared in a darkening dusk, when she heard the booms again. Her ears were ringing and her head hurt from the concussion. Her stomach was sour, her mouth dry. She felt unwell, weak. She was aware of being in a bed and she opened her eyes a slit, seeing leadlight bedside lamps lighting a mahogany panelled room. The bed was huge, the covers richly embroidered in ivory, golds and maroons. A glistening chandelier hung from the centre of the expansive high ceiling. The room was very large, quite possibly even bigger than Annika's entire house back home and it wasn't exactly small. It was like the room of royalty. She realised that she wasn't tied up. She also realised that she wore a soft white satin nightgown. She touched her aching head, feeling her long silky cornsilk blonde hair, it felt clean and brushed. Had someone washed it whilst she was unconscious? Annika struggled to her elbows, appraising her surrounds. The heavy engraved double-doors were closed, the ornate brass handles drawn together. A crystal glass of clear fluid was bedside. Annika hoped it was water. She was desperately thirsty. She reached out and took the glass, sipping. It was water; it tasted clean and wonderful. She drank half the glass and fell back onto the pile of pillows, exhausted. She thinks she is tired because the last time she ate was on the yacht...strawberries and whipped cream, she remembers. She should have had the stew at the tavern but she was a picky eater, she could be so silly at times, maintaining an air that was more like her mother than herself. Her stomach was acidic and cavernous; she would have eaten anything right now. Annika stared at the ceiling, at the plaster rosettes clustered around the chandelier fitting. She wonders if she is a prisoner in this finery and is relieved she doesn't seem to need the bathroom. She feels too physically weak to move and a part of her doesn't want to find out how much trouble she actually is in. This part of her just wants to sink back into deep sleep, even if it is nightmares. She knows enough about concussions to realise that this desire for sleep and her exhaustion are possibly physical aftermaths but her options seem limited right now. She is musing on this and half dozing when the doors open. Her eyes flutter open and she sees Nicholas Bloodstone filling the doorframe, ghastly, huge and magnificent. "Pleasant dreams, my sleeping beauty?" Nicholas asked, a smirk pulling his sensuous mouth. Annika stared up at him, hoping she looked OK despite herself. He was otherworldly handsome, with his black intense eyes, elegant brow and unique bone structure. He was perfect and something about his penetrative stare made her feel flawed. "Where am I?" she asked. "My home." He smiled at her, sitting next to her. Annika was painfully aware of the warmth of his leg next to her body. "My bed." "What am I doing here?" "Waiting for him." "For who?" Annika heard the whine in her voice and didn't like losing control before Nicholas like this. "Will you just tell me what is going on?" Nicholas chuckled and placed his hand on her cheek. Annika froze, staring at him wide-eyed. "So many questions," he whispered. She swallowed uneasily, feeling her cheeks blush at the intensity of his direct gaze. The hand slowly moved down her neck, smoothing down her nightgown between her breasts and under the covers. Annika whimpered a little and closed her legs tight. He pulled up her nightgown and stroked her mound. He was smiling at her as he brought his other hand under the covers and wrenched her legs open. He was very strong. Annika kicked at him, feeble and weak, trying to squirm away. He pinned one of her legs down onto the mattress and she relented, tired already. She gasped as the fingers of his other hand teased her the bare wet slit of her exposed pussy. "Now, that isn't so bad, is it?" Nicholas murmured to her, still sitting next to her, his hard gaze hypnotising her, holding her still and helpless. Annika couldn't respond. The pleasure from his fingers gently rubbing her clitoris and labia, coupled with her weakened dizzy state, were sending her into a weird euphoria. She sank into the pile of pillows, feeling her legs open wider. More fingers came inside and he started to gently finger-fuck her, applying perfect pressure on her G-spot as he tickled and circled her clit. She was so wet that she could feel her juices running down her inner thighs, she could feel them coating his huge hand. Her orgasm was building like storm clouds on the ocean horizon on a humid day and she moaned, allowing it to happen. She came hard, the orgasm overtaking her body and making her shudder and stop breathing for seconds. She was winded, almost hurt, by the intensity and afterwards, lay back stunned, like a fish just hauled in from the sea inside a net, flopped on deck and assaulted by the brutality of the new deadly environment. Nicholas took advantage of her, rubbing her clitoris hard until she succumbed to another orgasm. She cried out, trying to fight his hand but ended up grinding into it, submitting to the powerful climax. He kissed her neck, his hot breath in her ear and she felt vulnerable, scared and trapped, with his weight pinning her to the bed and his hand still in her pussy, still playing relentlessly. "Stop," she whispered. "Please, I can't take more." "You can take more than you think you can," he said into her ear. "No," Annika moaned as he intensified his rubbing, adding another finger to his hole-fucking. He grinned at her and then kissed her on the mouth roughly. She felt him press his huge erection into her leg and absently wondered why he wasn't fucking her. She kind of wanted him to. She shivered as she vividly recalled how well his cock stimulated the depths of her pussy and that was enough to send her into another hard orgasm, crying out as she thrashed against his hand. Nicholas stopped then, raising his hand and carefully licking it, right in front of Annika's face, so she could smell her own juices. He smiled at her whilst he did it, noticing how she paid attention to his mouth and tongue. He knew she was thinking of his skill at eating her pussy and she blushed. "You behaved well, Annika," he said, a bit husky. He stroked her hair and kissed her on the mouth. It was almost tender and Annika's mind spun. "I will send breakfast up. I am sure you are hungry. Then I will prepare you some more. I want you to be just right for him. We all do." Great Old One Pt. 09 After Eggs Benedict and dark brewed coffee with cream, just as she liked it, Annika felt much better. A maid named Marnie, a pretty young woman in a neat black uniform, helped her bathe and dress in a gorgeous 1940s style sundress made of pale yellow linen with white trim. There was a bra for her, a strange satin conical one from the same era. It didn't fit Annika very well; few bras did – Annika was blessed with a small back and body and large natural breasts – but she was grateful to be wearing underwear again. The kitten heels she was given were a little small, at size six, but she felt civilised dressed head to toe. The maid curled and pinned up her hair, Annika thought it was a Betty Grable style, the whole look was very forties, very World War Two, right down to the winged eyeliner and red lipstick. She commented on this and the maid blushed and said Grable was her very favourite popular actress, followed only by Rita Hayworth. It was only after Marnie left that this struck Annika as odd. First the old-style clothing and then the makeup, the curled up-do hairstyle. She sat at the vanity table, in front of the mirror and looked at the cosmetics. She gasped. Max Factor Pancake foundation, pressed powder in an old style compact, rouge, cake mascara with an odd little brush...it also seemed to be from that same era! Annika studied her reflection, noting how the maid had applied her makeup differently to modern fashions. The foundation and powder was patted on thickly and the rouge gave her red rosy cheeks. Her eyebrows were dark and exaggerated. Her breathing quickened as she tried to make sense of this. It is just old cosmetics, she thought dizzily. The Lord probably just has old makeup...perhaps he once had a wife back in the 1940s? She thought he probably sacrificed her to this kraken thing that was on the church's pulpit and she shuddered. The doors open again and Marnie walked in, with Lord Nicholas Bloodstone. His stoic marble-like face erupts with pleasure when he sees her. "Oh, Annika! You look lovelier than I dreamed!" Annika felt her cheeks redden under the heavy makeup and rose to her feet, staring up shyly at the six foot nine inch tall man. His exotic cinnamon aftershave made her swoon; she was intoxicated by him, desperate for his touch. Nicholas dismissed Marnie and the maid walked away, closing the double doors after her with a thunderous bang. Now, only Nicholas and Annika stood in the large well-furnished room. She became uncomfortably aware of this and felt her pussy grow hot and moist. She felt wetness inside her thighs. Her concentration wavered as she looked at his sexy mouth. "Annika. We have much to do together." Nicholas said, taking her hand gently and leading her over to a mahogany table setting by some French glass windows. The heavy red velvet drapery let in a small amount of grey light – Annika senses it is daytime. "I want to taste you again." His fingers stroked her inner wrists and she trembled a little at his words, at his directness. His fierce black gaze devoured her as she sat on the velvet cushioned seat before him and she shifted, feeling desire burn urgently in her pussy. "I told you before. I need to get you ready, for him, we need you to be perfect." Annika nodded nervously, watching his pale fingers caress her naked arms. Her skin burned, she could feel her nipples harden, her clit swell. She tried to stay on topic, tried to think clearly. "Who is he? And what is he going to do to me?" Her question hung in the air and Nicholas smiled at her indulgently. He dropped to his knees, between her legs and opened her like a flower. He started to kiss up her thighs and she moaned, grabbing the edge of the table. He looked up at her, still visibly impressed by her beauty. "I want you to lie on the bed for me." Annika did as she was told. She stood up, her legs a bit unsteady, and walked over to the freshly made bed, lying back on the embroidered gold and maroon cover. He followed, standing over her and opening her legs. Her breathing was coming out in quick little gasps as he opened her legs again, pulling up her full skirt and started kissing her sensitive inner thighs. She felt him hook his fingers into her panties. "You are very wet already," he said, under her skirt. Annika couldn't speak; she was all his and captive to whatever he did next. She felt him pull the panties aside and gently nibble at her labia. She gasped, writhing. Then his tongue started to stroke inside her swollen pussy lips, lapping at her begging clit and she cried out, wanting more. He pulled her panties harder, allowing more access and put his tongue inside her pussy. Everything about Nicholas was big. In ecstasy, Annika whimpered, losing control. Nicholas was so amazing at eating pussy that whatever he did felt like one long orgasm. Then when the climax roared in, she was totally awestruck and dumbfounded, breathless and stunned. Now, he was making her come several times, on top of each other. The orgasms ripped through her as his big tongue firmly stroked her clit, his mouth drinking her in, lapping her juices. Her heart was racing, her entire body lit up with pleasure. Here, he stopped, much to Annika's amazement. In previous encounters, he seemed to get off on making her come and come, beyond what she wanted. She lay there, flushed and tingling, looking up at him in a mixture of fear and lust. "Please..." she began and wet her lips. She tasted the weird old lipstick. "Please fuck me?" Nicholas looked down at her – with contempt? He wiped his face and stared at her, hard. His eyes went cold. "No," he said bluntly. He turned his back and started to leave. "Wait!" Annika called out. She sat up, frazzled, desperate. Her heart raced. He couldn't just leave her now! "Please! What is happening?" Nicholas turned to look at her. He was close to the door. A cruel smirk spread across his handsome face. "He is about to come for you, Annika. He will spend some time with you and then leave. Then Marnie will care for you. Maybe I might visit...I am not sure about my feelings on fucking a pregnant woman." Annika stared numbly. "What?" she managed to ask. Nicholas' smirk deepened. "There will be the implantation. He goes back to his home. For you, there is gestation, then birth. We will treat you like a Queen, Annika. After all, you will carry a Great Old One. Then we let you go home." Annika's mouth fell open as it dawned on her. "It will...impregnate me?" Nicholas' eyes were burning bright now, pleased that it was dawning on her. He grinned. "Oh yes. It is the mating season for The Great Old Ones; and ours needs a female. He deemed you worthy. I congratulate you, Annika. What an indescribable honour!" "What?" she asked, a sob in her question. "They...breed with humans?" "They plant inseminated seeds in humans. The human womb is useful – warm, wet, protective – just like a type of pod on their home planet used for the same purpose. He likes the sex too, Annika. You won't be disappointed." Annika was in shock, her mouth open and her hands to her face. "Oh my God..." she whispered. "Oh please no...please, you can't do this to me!" Nicholas turned, his hand twisting the brass doorknob and opening the heavy wooden door. He ran his hand down the engravings, pausing to relish the moment. He paused, looking over his shoulder to lick his lips and grin at Annika. "I will watch him fuck you. It will be very enjoyable." Great Old One Pt. 10 This is the final part! Thanks to everyone who read this – and special thanks to people who have commented and favourited. Hope you like the ending! -QP ***** Annika sat on the bed, dazed and still flushed and reeling from the intense multiple orgasm Nicholas had licked her to. She tried to focus on what had just happened. She stared around the room, thinking how he said he would watch him fuck her...her gaze paused on a large black mirror with a gilded frame. Her cheeks burning with anger now, she stood and kicked off the kitten heels. She picked one up and threw it at a wall, tearing the gold patterned wallpaper with a crash. She padded over to the mirror and stood in front of it. Glaring into it, she growled, "I see you, you sick motherfucker." Suddenly, a voice emerged over a hidden speaker system – authoritative, mocking and somehow, sounding offended. "Annika, you make it sound so sleazy but I assure you it is quite salubrious. We want to make sure everything goes well. And to look after you, of course..." Annika could only see her reflection staring back – still resplendent in her 1940s lemon yellow sundress and Betty Grable coif. Her winged eyeliner and red lipstick was still in place. She looked like a film star from the times, a throwback like Nicholas who liked old finery and velvet suits. She was lovely like this, a vision of femininity. But she was tired and feeling resigned from Nicholas' intense psychological mind games. Annika sighed and stepped back from the mirror, turning her back on her reflection and what she assumed were Nicholas' prying eyes. "Fine," she said evenly. "Look, when are you summoning this creature so it can rape me and be done with it? I am getting very sick of your threats." A chuckle bounced over the speakers. Annika became aware of buzzing, like hornets, perhaps like the static on an old television box. The sound became increasingly high-pitched and keening and there was a brilliant flash of light which penetrated the room. Terrified, Annika pressed her back against the mirror glass, bulging eyes on the zapping electricity jumping in the air in front of her. The buzz grew in intensity and there was a rip, more crackling light and then the air split in front of her as if it were thin fabric. The hysteria started to claw at her and she struggled to maintain her mind, her clarity and her sense of self. "It can't be real," she said to herself. The only thing that kept her sanity was the thought of those cold calculating flinty black eyes watching her behind the mirrored glass. She could not let Nicholas revel in her terror and her undoing. She could not let him see her lose her mind. Annika made herself stand her ground, to look fierce, to stop cowering against the mirror. What appeared to be a portal was taking shape now and she realised that this was how The Great Old One enters their world. He was a cosmic deity – he was not of their being. That is how Nicholas is immortal. That is how the townspeople were hypnotised, weird and staring. She felt a wild laugh build up inside her chest. It was ridiculous! She loved weird tales and had a voracious appetite for horror stories. The irony of this cloaked her in this moment as she gazed into the portal as it became oval, larger, stretching to the size of a Kenworth truck. It was impossible, extending beyond the bounds of the room and she gazed into it, stunned at the brilliant light and blaze of colour. Then she could see a hulking black shape appear inside the portal. She braced herself. Whatever you do, don't scream, she told herself and grit her teeth hard. She stared at the figure, trying to make sense of its alien shape. It was almost like a huge bear, only hairless, grey. She could discern tentacles, an open toothless gaping mouth – were they eyes? She realised that it had about thirty black beady eyes, all staring soullessly at her, all surrounding its horrific black mouth and she did scream, forgetting about the hideous Nicholas and whatever joy he might be finding in her terror. She fell to her knees, staring, frozen before this monster as it stomped closer, leaving its realm and entering the room. Its multitude of ghastly black eyes were trained on her as it staggered across the thick carpeted floor. Staring in rapt terror, she was barely aware of anything other than the fleshy greyish monster in front of her. It had thick stumpy legs, seven two metre long tentacles where arms should be, no face really, just the gaping mouth, the multitude of staring eyes glittering glassily at her. Her breath came out in ragged little spurts as her heart beat so hard she thought it was going to rip right out of her chest. **I like your hair, lovely human. So pale, pretty. You are very nice indeed** The alien thought invaded her mind and she realised that it was communicating telepathically with her! The pain was sharp, surgeon-precise and invasive. She grabbed her head in her hands and howled. "Noooooo!" she cried. "Oh please no!" Nicholas chuckled again over the loudspeaker and said, "This is where it gets interesting, Annika." Annika, still shocked and stunned, was seated on her ass, her legs splayed out uselessly in front of her. Trembling in terror, she watched the creature loom over her. She felt hysteria rise in her throat, along with the taste of coffee and eggs. A tentacle reached out and grabbed her behind her neck and she shrieked. Her beautiful face contorted with sobs as another tentacle slithered in, encircling her waist, pulling her in. She whimpered in fear, her body limp as the powerful monster pulled her close. It smelled like rotting meat left in the sun and a particularly rich mould or aged seaweed. She thought she was really going to vomit now. **Open your legs. Wide for me. I can open them if needed** Annika understood. She didn't want to but she opened her legs and closed her eyes tight as she felt the tentacles drawing her into the wet, slimy fleshiness of the monster. It's mass was firm, hard – she didn't dare open her eyes, it would surely make her insane – and she felt her legs meet its body, then her pussy become pressed against what felt like the head of an impossibly gigantic cock. This made her eyes fly open and she looked down, screaming as she saw the monster's bulging cock, poised to enter her. It was as thick as the trunk of a young tree, perhaps over half a metre in length. It could not fit inside of her! It was going to kill her! "No!" she yelled and struggled. Two more tentacles emerged and encircled her ankles, gripping them tightly and then, she was powerfully pulled onto the end of the cock. Her scream was bloodcurdling as it entered: she had never felt anything quite so devastating, she thought she had been split in half. She moaned, her head lolling back and as she became aware of the monster thrusting, she realised that her pussy was reluctantly accommodating the gargantuan cock. She shrieked as the monster repeatedly forced her body on to its cock, first, from disgust and fear, then, pleasure, as her body responded and she felt the huge cock reach unimaginable places up inside her. She thought of Nicholas, imagining him behind the glass, remembering how he told her that he would find this 'very enjoyable'. This made her wetter than ever, picturing him watching her getting fucked by this huge cock. The sensation was unbearably pleasurable, her pussy was so full and the guttural crazed moan that came from her lips frightened her. Annika realised that a hard pressure was building – an immense orgasm like no other – and she screamed in a special kind of horror as she came on the huge monster's cock. It was if her entire pussy was convulsing in orgasm, for minutes on end and she screamed and screamed, her voice hoarse and tasting blood in her throat. It was horrifying – yet astounding – and she opened her eyes, looking into where the face of the thing raping her should be. The multitude of eyes shone in the dim light and it moaned tonelessly through its gaping mouth as it thrust, pulling her on to its cock. Shock ran through her and she squeezed her eyes closed, her pussy building up pressure again and she realised, powerless, that another big orgasm was approaching and it hit her hard. Again, she screamed out and the orgasm wracked her for minutes, vaulting through her body and overwhelming her. Then, with a groaning sound, the monster's cock started to convulse hard inside her and she realised it was coming. She opened her eyes a slit as she felt the tentacles around her ankles loosen. The tentacle around her neck slackened and the one around her waist let go. The huge cock pulled out and as she fell back onto the thick carpet, she stared in amazement at the clear gelatinous goop that covered it, the goop that now filled her up. She stared up at the monster, numb and trembling from the orgasms, astonished by what she just experienced. Nicholas was right; she had liked it. **Thank-you, beautiful human** Annika barely noticed the deity disappear through the portal. Beyond her daze, the speaker crackled and she heard Nicholas' voice. Her pussy was on fire, little orgasmic aftershocks exploding through her body and she started stroking her swollen lips, rubbing her clit. She gasped as more orgasms tore through her. She could hear Nicholas talking through the speaker but it was if he was on another plane, small and inconsequential. She had fucked Greatness and she didn't need this overbearing man, this supposed Lord, a mere rodent of the earth. For she now carried a being of the Cosmos. As she rubbed her clit to another furious orgasm, she moaned hard, feeling the Great Old One's voluminous cum coat her hand and run up her arm. She didn't want to go back to her old life, the yacht and her husband. Covertly fucking the odd pretty girl wasn't even enough to satisfy her lust anymore. Now, she desired for larger things. She wanted what Nicholas had. She wanted what was through the portal. She wanted the stars, the nevermore – she wanted Eternity.