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All characters depicted in this work of fiction are of legal age of consent.

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In that final moment of the summoning, as soon as she uttered the final incoherent sound of an alien chant human vocal chords should not have been capable of uttering; Yog-Sothoth wasted no time in penetrating her holes.

Pressure at first, snapped Lavinia's eyes open and she gasped as the icy cold tendril, invisible and materialised right out of the frigid depths of the universe, pressed forcefully against her quim. More wrapped like bands of snow about her wrists and ankles, with another teasing its way up between her breasts, slithering over her neck and snaking between her agape lips. The force increased, and as if she were opening like a flower, an unseen force spread her swollen apart and gaped the tight little pink hole that glistened with feminine excitement.

The invisible tentacles plucked Lavinia into the air, leaving her helpless but ecstatic all the same. The tentacle penetrating her pussy was smooth and long, thrusting all the way into her core and bumping her cervix with a satisfying delicacy. The other filled her mouth, teasing across her tongue as she suckled lovingly at the rubbery texture of the invisible appendage. Somewhere below her pentagram glowed with fierce purple light, so bright it seared her retinas through her eyelids.

But Lavinia didn't care as the fire between her thighs was stoked into an inferno of lust. The electric tingles of pleasure made her toes curl and she convulsed in her eldritch husband's firm grip, suspended and undulated back and forth as his tentacles fucked her with the tenderness of a jailhouse shivving. Her ghostly howls were cut short by long, throaty gulps as Yog-Sothoth pressed his appendage down her throat. Lavinia's eyes rolled as the world darkened, and all that mattered were the wet, feminine sounds of her sodden pussy being ravaged and the explosion of pleasure roiling up from her toes to her lips.

More, she wanted more. She was so close to completion. She wanted to cum. She begged, breathlessly and oxygen deprived in her mind for Yog-Sothoth to keep going. Fuck her holes harder, reach up inside her womb and ravage her deeper. She was so close to orgasm. She hadn't known pleasure like this for a year now, there was nothing on this earth that could satisfy her. No man, no toy, no incantation. This was what she lived for. to finally have her lust quenched…

Alas… the tentacles stiffened, right on the precipice of Lavinia's release and she sank to the ground. Warmth flooded her belly as she felt the other-worldly seed fill her. Not in spurts, but a steady pump that felt like a spreading glow. Yog-Sothoth didn't move anymore, bar the shrinking tentacles that wilted away. Before long Lavinia could clench and the appendage plopped out between her legs, along with a small gush of the Great Old One's thick black semen that stained the ritual circle like tar. The eldritch glow had faded away as Lavinia gasped for breath.

Sitting up, she lay naked in the dark basement, the only evidence of her annual encounter with her promised one a thick glutinous mess of midnight cum dripping from her quim and a ravenous lust burning between her thighs.

The copulation hadn't lasted for more than a minute before she was left laying there like a discarded cum-rag, reflecting Lavinia's many unsatisfying encounters with mortals. And the experience had only left her wanting for more.

Not to worry however, because like a woman pining for the company of her favourite vibrator after her spent husband rolled over and dropped off, Lavinia rubbed her swelling belly with excitement, feeling the first vestiges of new life squirm in her womb.

“Hurry, Wilbur my darling," she whispered to the coming child. And as if hearing her, an under developed hand pressed against the inside of her belly, a clear outline showing through her skin and making her smile.

“Come quickly. Mommy really needs to be fucked…"

I

I snapped awake to the patter of rain on the windscreen; a hypnotic rush of noise giving my New England countryside seclusion a certain cosiness.

The solitude was disappointingly short lived.

“Have any interesting dreams?" she said from the back seat. “All of them about me, no doubt?"

Her voice was husky with age, but tempered with aeons of wisdom and confidence while at the same time tinged with the enthused seduction of a woman edging on perpetual orgasmic release. Turning in the driver seat, I looked my long-time stalker up and down, taking in the sumptuous curves of a woman built specifically to get such a release from any man she wished.

The long midnight black gown clung to the sumptuous curves of her body like a velvety glove. She was covered from the turtle-neck down to the floor, the ends of her taught skirt riding up over the ankles where she sat with her long elegant legs crossed, to reveal the leather stilettoed boots underneath. Her hands were covered in tight fitted gloves, slender digits folded neatly in her lap. A shawl with a hood hid her face in a gloomy shadow, leaving no part of her body bare or visible. But the tailored cut of the outfit still left very little of her wide, shapely hips and large pillowy breasts to the imagination. She had the build of a mature woman several children later, though her limbs were still tapered and slender with a slim mid-riff pronouncing her bodacious hourglass figure even further.

“One of these days I'll get that restraining order," I said plainly, turning to the front again. Through the fogged windscreen and the waterfall of water running down the glass I could only make out the blurry outline of the Whateley farm further up the driveway.

“No piece of paper is going to keep me from my lover," she crooned lovingly, ignoring the fact I wasn't even her boyfriend. 'Victim,' sounded far more apt.

“Honestly though," she continued. “I'll never understand how you humans can stand all that bodily maintenance. All this desire to eat, bathe, sleep and…"

“And fuck?" I asked, knowing exactly what had brought her out tonight. It was always the same damn reason.

“Oh, Randall, you speak my language." Cthylla purred, and glancing in the rear-view mirror I could vaguely make out something stirring erotically in the shadow of her hood. “You know that's the one human desire I don't mind indulging in."

I shook my head, intimately familiar with Cthylla's indulgences. “Don't tell me you followed me across the globe just to flirt."

“Of course I crossed the globe to flirt," Cthylla said with feigned offence. “Also, I just wanted to remind you that Wilbur remembers everything from his previous incarnation."

“I know that already, woman," I assured her, punctuating the statement by reaching over to the passenger seat and retrieving my FAST helmet.

With it securely on my head, weights and batteries strapped to the back to counter the weight of the night vision goggles mounted to the forehead, I gave the chest-plate of my armoured tac-vest a reassuring pat. I made sure that despite the cumbersome weight, to insert trauma plates this time around. Last year Wilbur had tried to stab me, and no doubt he'd try again today.

“Lavinia is likely to be irate with you at this point too."

I laughed. “Annually murdering her boy-toy mid-coitus 'll tend to do that." But for Lavinia's growing ire against me, I had something for that too.

Reaching over I grabbed my shotgun, one of the few Italian classics to bless the world aside from pizza. And even pizza was a debatable contribution to mankind.

The Benelli M4 was a forty-inch, semi-automatic delivery system of seven-plus-one twelve-gauge shotgun shells to the face, in approximately one-and-a-half-seconds. Anodized black with hardened ABS furnishings stippled for better grip, the weapon wasn't the prettiest thing in my armoury, but for close encounters she was unmatched in pragmatism.

Checking the breech and ensuring the first shell in the tube was chambered, I asked, “Got any more useless nuggets of information for me?"

There was no answer at first and I looked back. Cthylla was gone, having dissolved away into the shadows. But her voice worked its way into the back of my mind, making me tremble as if she'd stroked her naked hands up my thigh.

“No. Now I sit back and enjoy watching you work, lover."

I grimaced at the old, but unsettling knowledge, that no matter where I was, awake, asleep or dead, Cthylla was always there. Watching me. That's the problem with having a psychic cosmic horror as a stalker. There was no getting rid of her. Had my horny teenage self known that ten years ago, I never would have entertained her advances.

Live and learn, I guess. Except now I had to learn to live with Cthylla's hot and lusty breaths on my neck for the rest of my natural life.

I pushed my way out of the car and pulled my NODs down, giving my aspect a suitably eldritch flair. The quad of horizontally aligned lenses didn't light up bright green like in the video games, instead remaining dark and dreary, but a small pool of otherworldly green bathed the region around my eyes as I peered through the dark shades of IR light.

Rain had beaded across the surface of my shotgun and ran in small mercury-like streams across the water-retardant skin of my soft-shell by the time I reached the farmhouse. The place was, like the rest of Dunwich sporadically scattered across the countryside, suitably run-down, given the farm couldn't have possibly been generating any revenue. No livestock had roamed the surrounding fields or stood in the barn for nearly a hundred years. Officially the place didn't have an owner, but the area was so swampy, wind-swept and generally fallow that nobody in their right mind even tried to take up the land by legal means or anything else.

The aforementioned barn looked like it had at one time in its life exploded, and the farmhouse looked to be not far behind it. Though crooked, and I swore I saw the walls warp and sway in the buffeting wind like the ribcage of a breathing thing, the place stood with a few recently added renovations.

Easing up to one of the barred windows, I carefully peered through the ancient, single glazed glass. Even with years of filth and mould building up, I was able to get a look at the living-room beyond. And the horror show that lounged there.

Wilbur Whateley was immediately recognisable. About twelve hours hold, five feet tall with fur clad legs a darker shade of brown than the rest of his anorexic body. Each leg ended in hooves that were cracked and pocked in what looked like barnacles.

A single ram's horn dotted with jaundiced eyes sprouted from his right temple, while a rigid equine cock of almost similar proportions sprouted like an iron bar from between his furry thighs.

He lounged there in Lavinia Whateley's lap, his naked mother cooing at him as her slender hand was wrapped around the oozing cock, stroking up and down the glistening, slick length with lovingly deft strokes. Her whole, pale, ghastly white body was on full display, pink eyes almost glowing in the dim candlelight, her shoulder-length, silver hair pulled back into a prim, gym-bunny style ponytail.

Wilbur nursed as his mother stroked his hefty length, which was as long and as thick as Lavinia's slender, tapered forearm. His fat, pink lips were clamped tightly over the pink nipple on Lavinia's right tit, and she seemed to be getting as much pleasure out of Wilbur drinking from her body as he was getting from the handjob – as evidenced by the stubby tentacles at the base of his cock twitching erratically.

Lavinia herself showed no signs of being impregnated and spawning Wilbur only twelve hours ago. The albino was back to the slender figure most women would kill for – though never quite allow themselves to be bred by an eldritch tentacle god for – with literally no evidence of childbirth lingering on her body.

I couldn't hear what was being said, but Lavinia's lips were moving as she whispered something loving to her eldritch freak-baby. And by the way Wilbur thrust into his mother's hand I could tell what was coming. The abomination stiffened, the flared head of his cock swelled and a thick vein running along the underside pulsed hard before a gout of cum shot up into the air.

The pearly white goo glistened and crystallised from the tip as it touched air, forming jagged and intricate twigs of a marble tree that grew from the end of Wilbur's cock. And Lavinia immediately bent down to lick at it like a lollipop. Branches melted across her tongue as she let out contented sight after contented sigh. she worked quickly, eventually lapping up the last of the branches until a small needle of crystallised cum stuck maybe an inch out of Wilbur's cock.

“Such a good boy," Lavinia said, louder now so I could hear. “Such a tasty, delicious boy. Mommy has missed the taste of your cum, Wilbur darling."

Greedily licking some droplets of cum from her lips, she slid her slender hand up along the length of Wilbur's rigid meat and gripped the leftover needle of cum, easing it slowly out of his urethra. With every inch that emerged, Wilbur whimpered pleasurably into his mother's breast, until finally the tip of a long knitting needle of vitrified cum emerged.

Lavinia melted the delectable treat into her mouth, and swallowed ostentatiously for Wilbur's many eyes, then returned her grip to his twitching member.

Looking away from Yog-Sothoth's fucked up family, I quietly eased my way towards the front door, but reconsidered at the first step onto the porch. Every Halloween was the same damn story. Lavinia would allow Yoggie to breed her, she'd give birth to Wilbur, they'd try to have weird incestuous tentacle sex, and I would come along and murder the fuck out of him before he turned into a world-devouring monster.

As such, my door-kicking visits were pretty much expected and prepared for by Lavinia. Though she was definitely lacking in pro-active imagination. Last year I had kicked down the front door, so she was bound to have booby-trapped that this time around. The year before that I'd breached through a window, prompting her to invest in bars on the windows. Before that I'd let myself in through the back door, and knew that had been replaced with a steel security door.

Pressing on I circled around the side of the house and knelt by the basement hatch, before opening a pocket and producing what I liked to call my skeleton key. Funny enough, it wasn't even a key, and more like a spring loaded hammer on a metal punch. I lined it up on the hatch's first hinge, pulled the spring back and released. The weight in the spring slammed into the underside of the punch, which slammed into the hinge pin, sending it shooting out the other side and into the darkness.

I repeated the process on the other hinge, and without even touching the padlock, silently pulled the wooden basement hatch out of my way. Shotgun leading the way once more, I eased myself down the wooden steps into the basement, pausing and holding my breath after every faint creak lost under the howling wind and smattering rain.

It was dry inside, but no more pleasant than the late October storm outside.

Lavinia didn't use her basement like a normal person. But then I had just watched her lick a cum-popsicle out of her monstrous son's horse-cock, so maybe Lavinia being 'abnormal' was a given. The open space was devoid of furniture and storage boxes, all the more space for her ritual site.

The ritual circle itself was painted in normal paint, etched with other worldly symbols that gave me a headache if I looked too closely. Though most of them were obscured by pools of dried blood and afterbirth (thankfully?). Littered about the place were also scraps of what had once been birds, rats, and part of a cow. Though they just looked like reference pictures in a veterinarian journal, I only knew what animals they came from because I had read the ritual's instruction sheet before.

The candles had all melted into formless blobs, with only two flickering as their wicks died out. And the placenta, dumped unceremoniously to one side convulsed as if alive, leaving a long trail of gore where it had attempted to crawl away into a corner.

As disgusting as it was, it probably wasn't the most disturbing ritual I'd ever seen. Though Cthylla, as usual, made things a hundred times worse with her input.

“The romantic ambiance down here is almost too much!" she crooned, sliding out of the shadows. I didn't have to look to know she was swinging her wide hips seductively from side to side. And despite the slut-tier heels on her boots, she didn't make a sound, as if she hovered rather than walked. She quickly wrapped her arms around my body, one hand ostentatiously cupping my groin and squeezing playfully. “Fuck me, lover. Here and now. Bend me over in Lavinia's blood and fill my pussy with your cock. I promise, I've never been this wet in my life."

I shrugged her off. Quickly too, or I might have been tempted to give in, knowing exactly how wet she was capable of getting. “Begone, cosmic thot."

Putting a knife in the squirming placenta, several times until it stopped moving, I then pressed up the basement steps into the farmhouse proper, following the small trail of blood Lavinia had left carrying her newborn abomination.

In the hall I cast a glance at the front door, and as I had suspected, spotted the boobie-trap Lavinia had left. A large canister of what I assumed was flammable liquid was rigged to a rather advanced trip wire setup just inside the door. She was clearly getting sick of me crashing her annual incest party.

By the time I was halfway down the hall, I could peer through the open living room window and saw Lavinia had put Wilbur down. He was propped up on his knees, watching eagerly as the albino spread her legs and gripped her thighs for support.

Wilbur was pressing his wet erection across her belly, the tentacles at the base rubbing and teasing her bright pink slit, which honestly should have been a gaping chasm given what she'd just pushed out of her belly. But like her overall athletic figure, her impossibly

“Slowly, darling. Mommy's pussy is still a little sore from giving birth to you."

Wilbur replied with a noise that approximated speech. There was no polite way of describing it in any other way other than calling it autistic screeching. Like Wilbur himself was the horrific love-child of a human and a Great Old One, Wilbur's words were part Arabic, part Chinese and part German mixed with an unhealthy dose of screaming.

Just trying to distinguish one word from another should have driven me mad, but thankfully Cthylla's boon was keeping me on the right side of insanity.

“Fear not, mother," he said, the incomprehensible becoming comprehensibly by mysterious means. “This time around, I think I'll skip right to your ass."

Gripping her slender thighs to help keep them spread, the end of his cock speared between her taught ass-cheeks, drawing a silent gasp and an excited smile from Lavinia at the same time. The tentacles sprouting from around his sheath lengthened, reaching out to play with her sodden slit, two spreading the wet flesh apart to reveal the tender, pink flesh inside. Another pressed to the sensitive nub of flesh above the winking opening that glistened in the low light, while another delved between the sensitive folds and snaked into her squishy centre.

His flared head disappeared into Lavinia's ass. The question how a woman so slim was able to take an equine girth there without being split in two was quickly disregarded due to the supernatural situation, as inch by inch, Lavinia's expression twitching between pain, desperation and unhinged pleasure the entire time. When Wilbur was fully sheathed in her warm, squirming body, Lavinia's eyes had rolled up into her head and her tonge hung out over her bottom lip. His slender tentacles now pumping her slit in earnest, Wilbur leaned forward and suckled on her tongue like he had nursed on her breast before.

Regaining some composure Lavinia grabbed Wilbur's head and kissed him deeply before letting out a long, pleasured sigh.

“Oh, Wilbur, darling, it's even bigger than last time."

“Not too much, mother?" Wilbur was panting already, clearly trying to hold back the massive load of cum churning in his dangling balls while his mother's tight, warm bowels squirmed around his length.

She bit her lip, smiling mischievously as she clenched, leering at her trembling monster lover through her eyelashes. “It's perfect. I love it. Please don't stop."

“I won't, mother. I promise this time you will be satisfied."

If you are wondering what else was going through Wilbur's head as he began to ease back out of Lavinia's ass, I can confidently tell you; lead.

Easing into position, I forced Wilbur to break his perverted promise with a trigger pull and a three-inch magnum slug to the back of his face. Half of his head, including the eye-riddled horn disappeared, turned to a pink mist. The rest of him, stupefied, flopped over to one side, immense cock slurping out of Lavinia's ass as he tumbled after the grey-matter he was spilling.

Lavinia recognised me in that instant and furiously lashed out with a high pitched scream, lost somewhere between rage and the aftermath of pleasure Wilbur had been stimulating her with. I caught her face in one hand and shoved her back into the couch, undeterred as I marched up to Wilbur's seizing body now puking blood from every orifice.

I let him have it. Shell after shell, slug after slug. I worked from the chest upward, then back again to be sure.

When the shotgun clicked, I breech-fed one more shell and put it into what was left of Wilbur's head. And even then I didn't stop, transitioning to my pistol and emptying a magazine into the mess for good measure.

Trust me, when you're dealing with eldritch monsters, overkill is always underrated.

I didn't stop until I had turned everything from the sternum up into a mushy pink paste of obliterated flesh and jagged, broken bone. What Lavinia had done to multiple animals to summon Yog-Sothoth, I did worse to Wilbur right in front of her. Of course, she wasn't just going to take it, and she jumped me again. Luckily for her the slide of my pistol was locked back as I had emptied my second mag.

Lavinia wasn't a particularly heavy woman. Only about five-six and maybe ninety pounds in total, it took nearly no effort to catch her by the chest with my hand and divert her momentum. She only just about broke a nail across the side of my helmet as I shoved her off and sent her sliding out into the hall before switching magazines again.

This time I put the pistol back in its holster however and produced a bottle of lighter fluid and a road flare. I'd learned about Wilbur's second incarnation that fire kept him in the dirt the easiest. For shits and giggles I'd brought a flamethrower to that fight, but my eyebrows had suffered tremendously, so I went with the tried and tested 'gas-and-matches' dead-check.

The flames let out an audible 'thoom' as they consumed Wilbur's twitching, bubbling remains. He was quickly reduced to a charred and crisp, barely humanoid pile when the lighter fluid burned out.

I turned away, grinning at a job well done. Wilbur hadn't known what hit him, thankfully. That had made pest control pretty easy. Though arguably unfair, but then the only fair fight is the one you los, so there's that.

My troubles were far from over however, because there was still Lavinia to deal with. Especially as she came rushing out of the kitchen with a steak-knife like a cheap jump-scare. Howling she jammed the blade forward, but it caught on the trauma-plate of my tac-vest and stuck there as I grabbed her forearm and tried to redirect, to no avail. Foresight had literally been the only thing that saved me from a serrated blade to the sternum.

Twisting, I pulled Lavinia in close then snapped up my elbos, catching her in the face. Her head threw back, throwing a sliver of blood into the air and I twusted again. the blade came out of my plate with a distinct 'twang-g-g' and I yanked her to the ground, before planting my knee on her shoulder and breaking her arm. The cartridge in her elbow popped and cracked disgustingly as her arm now hung at an unnatural angle, her screams muffled by the blood flooding her mouth and broken nasal cavity.

Letting her writhe in pain I quickly scrambled up and kicked the knife out of reach.

As the blade skittered away into the hall, I glanced instinctively up at the statuette on the mantlepiece. There, as always, sat the ever watchful idol, Yog-Sothoth in all his maddening appearance. Or thereabouts anyway. The fetish was only a crude representation of countless eyes and tentacles of course. Still, the many eyes betrayed a kind of disapproving judgement you'd sooner expect to see on the face of a feminist getting cock-slapped.

“Don't judge me. If you don't want me coming out here every year, keep your dick in your pants." After a moment to think about it, I added, “All of them, preferably."

Lavinia convulsed across the living room floor as I was mouthing off into the great beyond. The soft bone-structure in her face cracked audibly, before her nostrils and mouth spewed a combination of black, coagulated blobs of blood that made her retch and cough as she forcefully cleared the tubes. Her nose reset all on its own, her arm quickly following suit. It was a longer, more agonised crack of her elbow as it bent back the right way around, drawing an uncomfortable scream from the albino before she was able to move her fingers again.

In moments it looked as though I had never laid hands on her. The residue blood smearing her pale aspect seemed to evaporate away, as if the powers that be simply could not have Lavinia be any way undesirable for even a second.

Lavinia was Yoggie's baby-momma after all, he wasn't going to settle for second rate. And he wasn't going to let her be hurt or killed so easily. I'd actually given up trying to put the woman down years ago. Nothing seemed to do it, so I just left her to it. If she wanted me to keep coming around and fucking her and Wilbur up like this, then so be it.

“Fuck you, Carter!" she half sobbed, half screamed. She had her hands planted into the floor and shouted into the floorboards, panting as she recovered. “Just fuck you for all fucking eternity! It will be a whole year before the stars are right for Yog-Sothoth to impregnate me again! Another year before I can feel my beloved Wilbur inside me once more! One more year of stewing in a lust that will never be satisfied!"

“Seethe harder, roastie."

She screamed at the floor in frustration. “You're such a fucking asshole!"

I could only shrug. The bride of an eldritch god had just called me an 'asshole' of all things. It was so painfully vanilla I wasn't sure how else to respond, but to be totally fair it was kind of accurate.

And while I had taken antisocial behaviour to god-tier, I couldn't help feel a little sorry for Lavinia at the same time. She absolutely needed Wilbur just to get off. Just one of Yog-Sothoth's caveats, a little control mechanism to keep Lavinia nice and loyal to the Great Old Ones. No normal human could sate her needs, slaving her to thirst after Wilbur's cock, programming her into being Yoggie's personal babymaker no matter how uncomfortable this lifestyle was.

I could, just one year, let her get her jollies with Wilbur, releasing her from this perpetual lust. But in doing so I'd be letting Wilbur grow to the point he'd destroy the world.

And given that it was in 'the world' where I kept all of my stuff, I wasn't about to let that happen.

Lavinia jumped up while I was thinking and rushed again. this time however she ducked under my defensive flail and collided with my mid-section. The force was enough to throw us into the nearest wall where she grabbed my wrists and leapt onto me.

Wrapping her legs around my waist, she used what little weight she had to pull me off balance and we collapsed comically to the ground, in what I imagined looked like a puff of dust like in a cartoon.

Once settled, I found myself flat on my back, Lavinia straddling my hips naked and her hands clamped on my wrists as I tried to pull free.

“Stop," she cried, trying desperately to hold on.

“You stop!" I cried back, trying just as desperately to twist out of her grip.

Seemingly frustrated with the struggle, Lavinia then went all in. With an aggravated sigh she threw her weight on my wrists, the unexpected force just about managing to pin my arms up to either side of my head. As she crashed forward her face darted closer to mine.

And her lips, puckered and slightly parted, pressed against my mouth for a kiss.

Given this was the same mouth that had been consuming Wilbur's seed not so long ago, I retched. Lavinia could have been the hottest woman on the planet – and despite her ghastly complexion she had a fair chance of qualifying – nothing was going to stop that reaction. She ignored it however, pressing her mouth tighter against mine and wrestling her tongue between my clenching lips.

The human in me stopped myself from biting down though. I'd already been so cruel as to bust her face and break her arm. And given she wasn't actively trying to kill me, doing anything other than shove her off felt unnecessarily cruel.

Gaining my senses, I quickly wrestled free of her grip, grabbed her by the throat and broke the kiss, shoving her up into a rather sexy riding position. She gripped my wrist with both slender hands as I sat up too, but instead of trying to pull free, she straddled me submissively, bottom lip caught under her front teeth and a pleading, desperate look in her eyes.

I don't speak from any particular experience, but a man just knows the look of a desperate waif silently pleading to be fucked.

“The fuck is your problem?" I demanded, refraining from throwing her off my lap and not knowing quite why. Perhaps something to do with that tight, perfect body of hers being naked and pressed against me.

“I think you know my problem, Carter," she said, expression turning a little irate. “I'm horny. I want to be fucked. Yog-Sothoth breeding me is always short lived, and you never let Wilbur satisfy me."

“I thought you couldn't get off with human guys."

“I thought so too, but…" She hesitated, mildly bucking her hips and grinding her bare pussy across the front of my pants. The light action drew a tremor through her body, making her pink eyes flutter in and out of sobriety for a moment. “But every year you come around. You kill Wilbur and leave. Then I'm left dripping wet, rubbing my aching, desperate pussy for hours on end. I hate you with an absolute vengeance, Carter. But I thought it was because you always kill Wilbur before I get off, leaving me hot and needy. But when I spread my thighs and toy my clit for hours on end, it's not Wilbur I think about. It's you. It's you I imagine pulling my legs apart and pounding my pussy."

Quiet throughout her unusual explanation, my expression grew more sceptical as she went on. “Bullshit," I blurted out.

Lavinia blind-sided me again, this time throwing her weight on my shoulders to knock me back down. My helmet hit the wooden floor with a distinct crack and in my moment of daze, she slipped from my grip. Instead of running or dashing for a weapon she sank down my body. Her bare legs slid down across mine until her face hovered just above my fly, which she tugged open with choreographed ease. She'd likely operated a lot of guys' pants in her annual quest to find a guy capable of getting her off. It seemed far-fetched to think she just sat alone in this creepy house stewing in constant sexual frustration, waiting for the stars to be right for Yog-Sothoth's next summoning.

She got my cock out of my pants before I was able to lift my head again, looking at it pulse firmly in her petite hand with a sense of awe. Not to be overly modest, but Wilbur's equine length had easily been three or four times the size of my dick. And not to toot my own horn, I had never received any complaints from previous partners. But Lavinia seemed particularly enthralled by the length of fuck-meat she now commanded.

All that being said, having her jaw anywhere near my privates made me just a little more than nervous, and I yanked my pistol. The weapon barely rasped out of the holster when she grabbed my wrist and held the weapon down. I could have easily fought her off, but something stopped me from kicking her in the face. Perhaps that pesky humanity rearing it's stupid head again.

“Will you just settle down!?" she growled impatiently, free hand cradling my erection so it was pointed straight up. Her cheek was pressed against the underside as she watched me with an irate expression. “Satisfy me and there won't be any need for us to fight."

Her soft cheek ran up along my member like silk until the edge of her jaw crested the tip.

I threw her a frown. “How is any of this satisfying you?"

Her eye twitched and her cheeks reddened a little. Seemingly against her better judgement she blurted out, “Having a dick throbbing in my mouth or the taste of cum just helps me get off, okay?"

Then before I could comment on that little bombshell, she opened her mouth and my erection disappeared inside. At the same time, feeling me throb in the wet, slippery cavity, tingling pleasure playing with my conscious thought as my length rested on her warm tongue, Lavinia let out the sight of a crack whore finally getting her long-desired fix. Her hand slid off my gun, which just lay there idly, neither of us thinking about fighting anymore before her fingers slid between her widely spread thighs. I couldn't see, but over the soft suckling noises and throaty gulps as she took me deep enough for the crown to poke the back of her gag-less throat, I could hear the tight wet sopping noise of her fingers disappearing into her snatch.

There wasn't all that much to her technique other than thrusting down and taking my dick as deep as it would go. But lets be honest, was anything else really needed. And she was persistent at least. I'd been with women who'd given up after the first dozen plunges. Lavinia just kept going, and it was at least a few minutes before she finally came up for air, licking furiously at the shaft like it was the most delicious lollipop she'd ever had.

“It tastes amazing," she breathed, then set back to work.

As she dipped down and went back to licking and sucking, here was a 'harrumph' somewhere across the room. Looking over I saw Cthylla had perched herself on the couch. She was leaned forward, elegant legs crossed and her hidden aspect somewhere under her hood watching critically as Lavinia worked my pole like it contained the cure for cancer.

“This silly girl has no idea. The cum is the most divine thing she'll ever taste, but with her sloppy technique she'll never taste it at this rate." Her tone was excessively pompous as she added, “I bet that hardly feels good at all, lover. She's sloppy, without form or grace. She's just ramming her mouth down on your cock."

As Cthylla said it, Lavinia planted her hands on my hips, straightened a little to line up her throat and plunged down. It was almost done in that moment as she hilted me all the way down to the base, her tongue slipping out to cradle my balls for good measure. My back arched off the floor a little as I thrust into her bulging throat a little more. And as if she didn't need petty things like oxygen, Lavinia held there, powerful swallowing action massaging my shaft right up to the head.

“I think she's doing just fine," I wheezed softly so Lavinia wouldn't hear.

“And she only has one tongue," Cthylla cried incredulously as Lavinia came up for air with barely a breathless gasp, swirling her tongue over my crown then going back down for more. “How can she possibly compare with my skills?"

I didn't answer, as Lavinia came back up. Sitting up a little as my cock popped wetly from her mouth, she licked the drool from her lips then furiously ran her tongue up along the underside of the shaft a few times.

“I've never felt this good sucking another human before," she whispered, voice still crisp and lovely despite her throat having been ravaged by my cock a moment ago. “I only ever feel this way with Yog-Sothoth or Wilbur. You're the one, I can feel it, Carter. I need you. I want you to fuck me. Roughly. Ravage me. Pretend you just burst in, killed Wilbur and to vent your frustration; rape me!"

My eyes bugged for a moment, quickly cataloguing my memories to check if a woman had ever asked me to rape her before. Spoiler alert: it never happened.

“That's a little weird," I commented honestly.

She immediately grabbed me by my plate-carrier and yanked me into a sitting position and face to face with her dangerous expression, complete with murderous tick in her left eye.

“Get off your ass," she snarled, pausing between each word for emphasis. “Pin me to this couch and fucking rape the shit out of me!"

Chtylla made an aghast sound somewhere behind me. “Don't you dare, lover! Your cock is mine! I let that little whore play with my toys already, but if you put my cock in that little whore I'll never let you fuck me anal again!"

I sighed with a roll of my eyes. Oh, woe is me.

In one deft motion I pinned Lavinia into the couch right beside where Cthylla sat unseen to the albino, and settled between her legs. One hand was gripping her throat, the other settled on her thigh to help keep her legs spread. Not that she was going to even feign a struggle at this point. She might have had a rape-fantasy, but she was too desperate and horny to indulge right now. She kept her legs open, bucking her bare, slippery slid against my member desperate for me to slide in and start fucking in earnest.

But my momma raised a gentleman… and given the context of the situation I'm going to regret cracking out that line. Point is, unlike when conducting a firefight, I wasn't one to go straight for the kill.

Rocking back, I lowered my face between her thighs and pressed my mouth on her quim. The lips parted invitingly for my tongue as I ran a deep lick from the tight, winking opening right up to the sensitive nub of flesh and into the fleshy hood around her clit. It was a surprisingly enjoyable feast. She wasn't as salty or musky as other women I'd gone down on, rather sweet truth be told.

Lavinia gasped with shock as she tried to grab my head, clawing at the FAST helmet instead. Her nails made a 'scrrrrttchh' sound across the armoured polymer surface as her hips bucked involuntarily against my mouth.

“Oh, Great Old Ones!" she exclaimed with a squeal. “What is that-…? Wat are you doing to my pussy?"

Cthylla chuckled haughtily somewhere in the background as I ate Lavinia a little deeper, delving as much into her opening for a moment then flicking my tongue repeatedly over her clit. Her squeal intensified into what could be better described as a scream.

“No one ever-…. OH G-G-G-G-UH~!" She trailed off incoherently into a ghostly wail of pleasure, legs shaking uncontrollably as she pawed at my head trying to pull me in even tighter. Her thighs closed on my cheeks to keep me in place, heels hooking over my back and a hot wave of feminine cream blasted my lips.

When she finally let go, I trailed a line of kisses up to the pink nipple on her left breast and suckled for a moment, nibbling at the hard, sensitive flesh. She held my face tightly there, flexing against me as her moans grew in intensity again.

“Don't stop, Carter," she uttered breathlessly. “Please don't stop. Please keep going. I've never felt-… please, give me everything you have."

Funny enough, as far as sexual tricks went, that was all I had. Thankfully Lavinia seemed to be easy to please. So, foreplay done, almost like a chore, I lined up with one hand and eased between her nether lips.

Bit by bit, pressure eased off as she opened to receive me, and my cock slid into her wet sheath with ease. It wasn't my smoothest entry (there's a space-programme joke in there but it escapes me), with the shotgun swinging around on my back and the weight of my tactical gear throwing off my rhythm. But Lavinia didn't seem to notice, or care very much.

Eyes shut and rapturously biting her lip, Lavinia squirmed underneath me as I began slow, easing my cock in and out of her tight cunny. No amount of getting tentacle fucked by Yog-Sothoth or hunting the land for a lay capable of satisfying her had loosened her feminine canal in the slightest. She was still as tight as a blushing virginal bride, and she reacted like one being romantically penetrated for the first time.

When she moaned with a sharp 'Oh~!' as my crown settled against her cervix with a tender, wet little smooch, I could sense the jealousy oozing from Cthylla as she tutted loudly and averted her gaze. I half expected her to whip open her dress and start fingering herself there and then, or at the very least snap her fingers, destroying reality in the immediate radios then having her merry way with my leftovers while I babbled like a madman and clawed my eyes out…

But perhaps being the disapproving cuckquean was a new fetish she was secretly happy to explore.

Admittedly, fucking Lavinia in front of my long term eldritch stalker was kind of hot from my perspective.

Slowly but surely I built up the pace. Again, not easy given the guns and armour dangling off my body, but if I could jump about a firefight I could do this. Planting myself I ignored the rattling gear and weight, and powered through. My thrusts grew in intensity as my crown began to assault Lavinia's depths faster and harder, her cries grew in fervour. So I gave her more and more, and rather than complain given I was unceremoniously hammering her flower, she only moaned harder, breathlessly asking – nay, pleading for more.

Cthylla was still doing the 'I am not amused, lover' act and in the corner of my eye I could see she pretending to inspect her nails through her gloves. “Darling, don't honestly tell me you're enjoying this skinny slut's pale, boring body over my sumptuous, cuddly curves and bracing tentacles."

“Quiet," I muttered at her, the thought of her 'bracing tentacles' making me wilt just a little “Quiet-quiet-quiet-quiet-quiet…"

“I can't-… OH~!" Lavinia blurted out with a surprised moan as I double tapped her pussy with two irregular, rapid thrusts. “Can't~… help~… iieeeehh-iiiiiiittt~!" she cried, thinking I was talking to her.

Lavinia bounced with every wet slap of my cock delving into her sodden canal, firm, perky breasts swinging in time.

“Its so gooood~! Don't stop!" she pleaded breathlessly. “Don't cum yet. I'm close. Sooooo clooooooose~! Pleaaase~!"

I felt her clench hard around my member and the torrent of heat began.

Lavinia went beyond knowing what to do with her hands, so instead of clawing at me like she seemed she ought to have been doing, she touched her fingers to her lightly blushed cheeks as she undulated back and forth against my merciless pounding. Her eyes were rolled up into the back of her head and like when Wilbur was sliding into her, she took on a mindless drooling expression with her tongue hanging out of her pretty mouth.

The whole lower half of her body was possessed. Her legs kicked at the air as she trembled and shook. Her hips ground against mine as she clenched up and released a spray of cum that drenched the front of my trousers, and even caught some of my jacket and tac-vest. She then relaxed for a second, and in time with my next delve against her cervix drew a high-pitched squeal from her mouth, followed by another spasm and a long squirt of feminine juices.

This went on for at least four squirts until she was spent, going completely numb, laying there gargling her own saliva while I kept going, almost as if using her for a toy to satisfy myself at this point.

With my tactical gloves still on there was little point to groping anything other than where my hands already were, and suddenly aware of the fact only as my balls stirred up a load specially for Lavinia, I was already too late to start pulling them off. So my fingers just dug into the slender curves of her waist, pressing her down against my crotch as I jackhammered into her depth, and tightened my grip around her slender little neck. Her hands fell to my wrist and held on tight, but she didn't struggle and moaned approvingly through the aftershocks of her orgasm. I tightened a moment later, hilted myself in her and shot my load through the neck of her womb.

Lavinia sucked in a long breath that swelled her chest and flattened her breasts for a moment, then released it in a long, girly squeal that sounded like the whistle on a kettle. She finally collapsed into the couch cushions, completely numb, her limbs twitching weakly like the legs of a dying spider.

I wasn't all that much better off, transferring my hands into the cushions either side of Lavinia's beautifully blushing face and breathing hard so I wouldn't pass out.

“Satisfied?" I asked eventually.

Cthylla 'harrumphed' in the back of my head. “I can't see how you could have possibly been satisfied by her laying there like a dead fish!"

I mentally shushed her again as Lavinia struggled to work up to her answer.

“Oh-…" was all she could manage between her long breaths, eyes shut and pressing the back of one hand to her sweaty forehead. “Oh-… oh-… Great Old Ones have mercy, Carter-… Carter that was incredible." She swallowed a breath and managed to look at me, her aspect completely different form before. her demeanour towards me had rapidly gone from hatred, to annoyance, to desperation, and now turned lovey-dovey all in less than an hour.

Peering at me through her eyelashes, she smiled while biting her lip. Seemed like a 'yes' to me, and slowly, in the back of my mind aware I could maybe hurt her or myself if I moved too fast, I gently backed out. Bit by bit her raw, quivering and satisfied tunnel collapsed as my cock smacked from her soft folds with a wet pop. Lavinia's expression fluttered and she sighed, gently cupping her sensitive pussy with one hand.

With her well enough subdued I found my feet and managed to dress myself. But before I could make tracks, Lavinia had more to say.

“Thank you, Carter," she whispered, her voice still shuddering as she reeled from her orgasm.

I scoffed. “Did you just 'thank' me? Now I know shit's fucked."

She couldn't even work up the energy to snark back as I backed out of the room.

I left Whateley farm that night, genuinely curious what would be waiting for me when I returned for the annual Wilbur hunt.

###

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