Carrie Cuinn - Cthulhurotica

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.

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 exercises 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.