Cthulhurotica Read online

  While it held her suspended in the air, Shirley’s devil braided its tentacles together into a luridly glowing scorpion stinger that throbbed and swelled and coiled to strike.

  Marc threw the kill-switch. He would have been surprised if it actually worked. The resonator was recycling power or drawing it directly from the hidden reality they had tapped into. He shuddered with rage and frustrated lust. This thing was no alien to Shirley, being something that had attached itself to her, fueled her dangerous behavior and fed off her, for most of her life. But now, she could touch it as it had touched her. She had used him to make it possible for her to seduce her own lust.

  He moved slowly out from behind the console, watching the teeming alien predators, but they seemed to have retreated for fear of Shirley’s demon lover.

  There was no shutting it off, no reasoning with her to make it stop. But there, forgotten on the arm of the chair, was her gun.

  Shirley opened her mouth to fellate a probing anemone-tongue, eliciting a piercing blast of strobing light from the incubus. The strange lightning poured out of her, illuminating her nervous system like overloaded Xmas lights, silhouetting her skeleton and seeming to dissolve her flesh in an acid bath of light. Marc shielded his eyes, but still saw her through the thin curtain of his transparent fingers. He saw her thrust herself onto the quivering stinger, and could not look away as her glowing plasma body engulfed it down to the root.

  Somehow, his fingers found the pistol. He couldn’t risk hitting Shirley. He turned and tried to shoot the tuning array, but the bullets only burst the clouds of jellyfish and pinged harmlessly off the screaming tuning forks.

  “This is what you wanted, wasn’t it, baby?” She purred and gyrated on the phantom parasite’s monstrous organ. He could see the impossibly large thing quivering and thrashing inside of her, trying to match her violent rhythm. Ethereal clouds of vapor streamed off its glowing shell. “All those things you made me do, you didn’t just want to watch and feed off the heat, did you?”

  Marc reached up to pull her away, but the incubus swept him aside with a thorny limb that shredded his forearm to the bone.

  “You wanted this… wanted to touch me… have me… but you never thought it would kill you, did you?”

  With an agonized cry, she flexed herself against the engorged stinger and wrung it dry. Her orgasm was a wrenching seizure that tore through her in waves, splaying her lovely limbs out as if she’d been electrocuted.

  Her demon lover spasmed in her embrace and seemed almost to melt with the explosive force of its own release. Its armor was riven by cracks of ultraviolet light, and waves of iridescent energy spilled out of it seemed to flow down its shrinking stinger and up Shirley’s neon spine, into the brain of its erstwhile host.

  With a contemptuous sweep of her hand, she ripped away the shriveled spinal taps and kicked away from her spent lover. She hit the floor and gracefully danced away from the impact, but then swooned into the chair.

  Shirley’s parasite drifted across the room like a flaccid helium balloon until a swarm of lampreys descended upon it, feasting on its helpless, sex-shocked flesh like remorae devouring the remains of a shark’s breakfast.

  Abruptly, finally, the deep violet light and the unholy hum cut out with an anticlimactic pop. The gray void dissolved into an ugly pre-dawn industrial panorama.

  Probably, they’d blown the circuit, or even the whole grid. It didn’t matter. It was over, and she was alive. Wasn’t she?

  Shirley rolled over on the floor, over and over, laughing and hugging her bloody knees to her chest. He thought twice before he put down the gun, but then he rushed to her and draped her in a bathrobe. “I thought you were — I tried to––"

  “You did the right thing,” she said, and kissed him. On the forehead. “Thank you, Marc.”

  Shaky, she got up off the floor and deftly shrugged out of the bathrobe, then picked up and stepped into her dress.

  “What should we do…?”

  “About what?”

  “The fucking resonator…”

  “You can destroy it now, if you want.” She stepped into her boots and clumped towards the door, as if she’d just finished an appointment with her masseuse.

  “But Shirley… you… if you’re… cured, then… what about us?” Marc wrung his hands, only then becoming aware of the oddly bloodless wound in his forearm. “I… I love you…”

  She turned and looked at him, and she started to laugh. But then she looked up into the space above his head, and the laughter turned to a jaded gasp. “You’ve got a bad one, Marc.”

  She turned and went out, closing the door behind her.

  Something stretched to its limit and snapped in his chest. Stupid! He hadn’t even known how he felt until he’d spit it out.

  Spinning around, looking for something to break, he found himself staring into a mirror.

  He didn’t need the resonator any more, to see the thing that rode him, any more than he needed the device to feel it suckling his pain. Only a vague distortion of the air around his head and heart was visible, yet he could see it with his new organs of sight, his newly awakened mind.

  All his life he’d been chasing a dream of a girl, when she was right behind him.

  It was nothing like a human, nothing like a female, and yet it looked just like her.

  “Hello, beautiful,” he said, and reached for the knife switch.

  Shirley's Demon Lover

  by Galen Dara

  DADDY’S GIRL

  BY MADISON WOODS

  Whack!

  A quick look confirmed what I already knew. Dammit. Angry welts on the back of my thigh reddened while I watched.

  “I told you not to do that again! Don’t you remember?” Of course Theo wouldn’t remember. He never remembered. And neither did I. If I had, I would have known better than to stand within slapping distance of his cage.

  A cold tentacle reached out tentatively, touched my inner ankle. Finding no reprisal it climbed a little higher, skittering to the back of my knee and slowly inched upward to thigh height. He paused.

  “I know what you’re doing. It won’t work, so stop it,” I told him. Reaching down, I lifted the tip of it off my leg and fingered the raised welts from his initial greeting. Saucers underneath his fleshy arm flexed, sought purchase but failed as I stepped backwards and slipped from his grasp.

  A wail ruptured from the cave and he pulled his arm back into the shadows.

  “I know. Give me a little time and I’ll find someone. Maybe by this afternoon, okay?” He wouldn’t remain manageable much longer if I didn’t allow him a little release soon. Again his tentacle reached out and snaked around my ankle. Tenderly. No grabbing. No slapping. No welts.

  My resolve weakened.

  “Do you think you can take it easy?” I asked. Compliant rumbles reached my ear. He’d been able to maintain control before, and the results were pleasing for both of us. But that was a long time ago, before his long captivity. Being caged for the last eight months had done something to him, made him unpredictable. He didn’t even have fully formed saucers when we found him. I didn’t know if I could trust him now. Even as the tip of his tentacle crept higher, inching around and up my thigh, closer toward the sensitive flower he sought, his saucers grew more rigid and his grip tighter.

  He couldn’t do it.

  This time, prying him off was not so easy. He resisted and I had to use both hands.

  “Get. Off!”

  I twisted, but he’d grown stronger since the last time I’d allowed this much advance. His saucers dug into my leg and it hurt. “Damn you, I said ... Let … go!”

  Instinct was to keep prying and stay focused on that aspect. Logic insisted I turn the opposite direction of the winding, but it was hard to remember that when I saw the blood seeping from under his saucers. Especially hard to think he purposely dug even deeper as I sought freedom from his grasp.

  During my schooling, the instructor made me repeat the releasing exerc
ises until they were ingrained to memory. I’d hated the boredom of it. Well, the effort finally paid off, and I turned automatically in the correct direction. Sucking in a sharp breath as the pain intensified momentarily, I was finally free and able to back up to a safe distance.

  Blood streamed from the saucer-cuts and pooled beneath my left foot. I shook with anger and fear at how close I’d let him get. Never again. It was time to seek new prey for Theo to work out his needs on. I’d take my pleasure from the ones who’d already learned to wield their power.

  Surveying the damage while I fumed, I contemplated my next move. It’d be gratifying to kill the ungrateful beast now, but if I did that, there’d be a penalty to pay. Daddy’s anger would likely lead to a more severe punishment than the injuries I’d just received.

  Footfalls crunched gravel on the path. Who would that be at this hour? A glance revealed Asynn, Daddy’s newest page and pet, slowing down in her approach as she noticed my stance and the blood.

  “Mistress Milleu, you’re wanted in your father’s den.” She looked closer at my leg and looked back at me with a smirk. “You’ll probably want to hurry. I’ll tell him you’re coming.”

  Smart ass.

  I didn’t say that. But she’d know I’d not directly disobey a summons from Daddy. No one in their right mind would, and being his only daughter didn’t grant me any immunity. It was the beast’s blood that ran with his, although his human ancestry was just as cruel. Chthonic monsters and greed-driven slave traders. Not much compassion in the genes either way, I guessed.

  By the time I reached the dark cavern at the water’s edge where he spent most of his time, Daddy was fairly mad. The ground beneath me vibrated to the rhythm of his growls. It didn’t matter that I was his kindred; he expected prompt responses to his orders. Always.

  The door was open a crack, probably left that way when Asynn went through because she thought I’d be close on her heels. I never knew my mother, but I suspect I’d inherited some of her defiance. Maybe he’d tell me what he wanted without my having to go all the way inside. His den suited him, but it made me nervous. The gray stone walls sweated, leaving salt trails behind as one seep dried and another began somewhere else. Damp and cool, it smelled of rotten ship hulls and moldering seaweed.

  “Daddy, you called?”

  The walls rattled when he yelled, turning my name into a threat. “Milleu! Now!” Of course.

  Just peeking through the cracked opening wasn’t going to be close enough for him. I swallowed my distaste, slipped in and closed the door behind me. With as humble a demeanor as I could muster, I approached. He growled again and the desk he sat behind danced, spilling papers that Asynn frantically gathered while avoiding becoming a casualty to the flaying tentacles. The girl gave me a stern look as she got the rest of the papers and backed to the far side of the room.

  Sniveling idiot. She’d be bait soon and didn’t even know it, ego too inflated to question the process.

  “Yes Father, you called?” It wouldn’t do any good to attempt bravado. Using the more formal paternal title would stroke his tentacled ego. I knew his ways and open defiance was a straight ride to the pens, daughter or no. I scratched the back of my neck and waited. He’d want to think I was nervous, afraid even. Avoiding eye contact was the best course of action when he looked for a fight.

  Daddy motioned impatiently to Asynn for the stack of papers. He grabbed the top one off the stack and shoved the rest back to her.

  “This chthonic you’ve been working with, Theo. Is he ready yet to be traded?”

  Answer too quickly and he’d think I lied. Take too long and he’d think it took me too long to think of a lie. I took a deep breath and fingered the uppermost welt on the back of my thigh.

  “No father, he’s recently become irritable. I think it’s time – “

  “Then make him ready. You’ve got one month. The Lady Bertain would like him to entertain her guests at her next Solstice party. She wants them to leave pleasured, not butchered, and she’s paid a hefty sum to see to it they do. Now leave,” he rumbled with slightly less decibels than when I’d entered. A good sign. It didn’t matter what I’d answered, he already had his response prepared. And I had my work cut out for me.

  Before we could begin, though, I needed an assistant. It wouldn’t do any good at all to get myself injured in this training process.

  “Father, one favor before I go, please…”

  He looked at me and I glanced toward Asynn.

  “May I have your page for my assistant?”

  To see the color drain from her face was worth the risk I had taken. It was priceless. Even if he didn’t consent, the effect of my request on her was all I’d hoped it would be.

  “She’s of age,” I ventured, enjoying her discomfort far more than I’d anticipated.

  He rumbled, a low growl that indicated that he was ruminating the idea, probably considering his investment versus the possible gain the deal could bring. I smiled so that she could see, but quickly restored a solemn face for dear Daddy.

  Asynn stood stock-still. Her skin had gone so white I wondered if she might fall to the floor at his feet any second to beg for mercy. If she made such a weak move, she would prove to be more stupid than I’d thought.

  “Her loss is acceptable to me, on the condition that you return her to my service if she’s able. I’d prefer not to have to train another, but for a month I can get by without her,” he agreed.

  “Come Asynn,” I said gently as I gestured toward the open the door. Still in shock, she placed the last stack of papers on the corner of his desk and walked with me toward the stairs.

  “We’ll get started right away,” I told her. “There’s not a lot of time, and you’ve got a lot to learn.”

  As soon as we reached the enclosure, Theo snaked out a tentacle in greeting, rumbling with excitement. He smelled her fear. His enthusiasm wasn’t a good thing, but Asynn didn’t know that.

  “First thing,” I reached down and picked up his tentacle, resisted letting him pull me closer and showed it to Asynn.

  “See these?” I pointed to the saucer-shaped suction cups. She nodded, still white but at least attentive. Still, she didn’t seem to want to engage.

  “Here,” I took her hand and made her touch them. “If you’re not careful, you’re going to look like you’ve been shredded through a grater. There’s a way to do this. Watch.”

  Wide-eyed she watched as I took the tip of his tentacle and sucked it gently. Instantly Theo relaxed and quit trying to pull me toward his pen. The sounds rumbling from inside were decidedly different now, and less threatening. Indeed, he was pleased.

  “You try it now,” I passed it to her. She swayed and I thought she might really pass out. My robust laughter snapped her out of it and her eyes flashed.

  I realized at that moment she wasn’t so different from the beasts.

  They were all trainable.

  “I can’t”, she said.

  I resisted the urge to snap at her. The willful ones needed a gentle touch.

  “The first time, you’ll watch me,” I told her. “The next time, we’ll do it together.”

  “VICTIM OF VICTIMS” FROM SHOGGOTH ON THE ROOF

  (Head Cultist)

  Victim of Victims

  Asenath! Oh Asenath!

  I saw you sitting in that pew

  Looked in your eyes and

  Asenath! Oh Asenath!

  Love you more than Cthulhu

  Victim of Victims

  Asenath! Oh Asenath!

  I think that you would fit the bill

  But since Cthulhu must come back! And attack!

  I love one whom I must kill

  When Deep Ones died for Great Dagon

  That is for sacrifice

  When Whateley reads the Necronomicon

  That is for sacrifice too…

  But of all my sacrifices, large and small

  The most nihilistic one of all

  Is when I finally th
rust the knife inside

  It will be inside … my bride …

  (Asenath)

  Cultist of Cultists

  Paradise, oh Paradise

  Here, look at me and raise your knife

  Cut off my clothes and

  Paradise, oh Paradise

  You take me to be your wife

  When you rip off that codpiece, yes!

  I’ll be your sacrifice

  When I, in my passion, finally get undressed

  He’ll be my sacrifice too

  (both)

  But of all our sacrifices, small and great

  The one that will finally see love mate

  Is the one that blasts our sanity

  I want you to marry me

  - Reprinted courtesy of the

  H.P. Lovecraft Historical Society

  Whateley Family Portrait

  by Kirsten Brown

  THE CRY IN THE DARKNESS

  BY RICHARD BARON

  Mamie Bishop and I had been courting for a number of years before I proposed. I think that we would still be courting now had it not been for the incident involving that local misfit, Wilbur Whateley. The details of which are too vast and unsettling to go into here - only have it known that following his disappearance, a gloom seemed to settle over the town. Inhabitants unwilling to discuss the event hid away behind closed doors, avoiding each other’s gaze for fear that mentioning “the unspeakable name” of Whateley would bring some unknown terror lumbering to their door. For Mamie, who had visited their residence on past occasions, the effects were far more pronounced.

  She became withdrawn, her skin affecting a sickly pallor. More than once she was found walking alone in the hills at night, her head tilted up to the sky as though she was searching for some sign or movement in the clouds. Naturally, I became concerned, and after ushering her back to her parents’ home following one of those midnight jaunts, I sat her down and poured out my heart. Racked as I was with worry, I would say, and do, anything in my power to help alleviate whatever concerns gave her cause to act in such a manner. Anything to have the Mamie I loved safe.