The Bride of Dagon Collection Read online

  “You created the egg,” said Sara, her words sounding adoring.

  “Yes, I did,” said Ragusthka. “My revenge upon tsars. It has begun again.”

  “The tsar’s are gone,” whispered Sara, running her hands slowly over Ragusthka’s magnificent body.

  “Svetlana said that as she knelt before me,” said Ragusthka and he stroked a lock of Sara’s golden hair from her face. “She told me their time had ended and that my people and people like them are no longer abused. But I saw in her mind that times have not changed so much. That new tsars and tsarinas have risen to take their place. That gold is all that matters now.”

  “It’s true,” moaned Sara, her hands reaching the thick root of Ragusthka’s perfect member.

  “And now you are here, Sara Chambers,” said Ragusthka, leaning in so his lips were very close to hers. “Like the others. Will you take up my cause? Will you join me in changing the world for the better?”

  “Yes,” she moaned, emotion swelling in her breast. “Yesss!”

  “Kneel before me now, Sara Chambers,” said Ragusthka, gently resting a big hand on her head. “Kneel and show me your devotion.”

  Her desire to please the handsome Ragusthka overwhelmed her resistance to his sonorous command. Sara fell to her knees, moaning with lust, gripping Ragusthka’s huge cock in her willing hands. She guided him to her lips, ran her tongue around the plum-thick head of his cock, and slid him into her wet and welcoming mouth. She gazed up at him adoringly as she began to suck Ragusthka’s huge cock as if he were her long-lost lover.

  “Oh, very good, my sweet,” said Ragusthka, stroking her hair as she pleasured him. “Do not forget the satchels of my seed.”

  She popped her lips wetly free of his cock and moved between his muscular thighs to lick and suck at his bollocks. The more she slurped at his sack, the more she craved his cock. She thrust a hand between her thighs, fingers probing her slick furrow as she moved back to Ragusthka’s swollen tip and sucked hungrily at his hardness. Out of Sara’s peripheral vision she saw that the other women were pleasuring and being pleasured by duplicates of Ragusthka.

  “There is enough of me to be loved by many more than you eight,” said Ragusthka. “Do not worry, my sweet Sara, the worshippers will come to me, and I will fill them with my wisdom and they will bear my fruit into this world.”

  The sounds of pleasure enveloped Sara on all sides. The women – her sisters in adoring Ragusthka – surrounded her in the warmth of their writhing, rutting bodies and their cries of pleasure, sometimes muffled by their eagerness. Sara slurped hungrily at Ragusthka’s cock, as eager to pleasure him as the others. Tears of effort fell from her eyes and she fought back her gag reflex as his slimy, plentiful precum coated her throat and tongue.

  “That’s it,” murmured Ragusthka. “Suck it, my sweet. Draw out your first baptism of my seed.”

  “Mmmmmmm!” She cried with need, bucking her hips and fucking herself furiously with her fingers. The sensation of his huge cock sliding to the back of her throat and almost out of her mouth again, stretching her lips and filling her nose with his musky sent, pushed her lust to new heights. She could imagine nothing better than pleasuring the handsome mystic. The more she sucked, the more she craved him, until her orgasm was bursting through her in a roaring fountain of pleasure. Saliva bubbled where her lips slid along his cockshaft as she gasped her ecstasy through her cock-stuffed mouth.

  “The delights of your servitude will outweigh any you have known before,” rumbled Ragusthka’s deep voice. “Now… prepare yourself for the glory of my seed!”

  Sara whined with need, sucking his cock with furious bobs of her head, drool dripping from her chin and slopping onto her chest as she slurped the length of Ragusthka’s straining cockmeat. With a bellow of pleasure, he thrust forward, his cock sliding into her throat, bulging her neck, and filling her with the throbbing, spurting streams of his thick, slippery seed. He pulled out of her throat and pumped a gooey portion across her tongue, giving her a taste of his sweetness before sliding back into her throat and pumping his cum straight into her belly.

  As Sara gulped around Ragusthka’s spurting cock, she saw a flash from the bright, sunny courtyard into darkness. It was so quick, it was gone, just an after-image on her vision. Another spurt of cum gurgling into her belly from his cock and she saw it again, this time she held it for a moment by concentrating. She was not in some sunny courtyard, she was on her knees in the dark hold of the Heart of Kiev, sucking slime from a tentacle that was fucking her mouth.

  “There you are,” said Ragusthka, calling Sara’s attention back to the sunny courtyard. “You have tasted the sweet seed of my loins. How does it feel?”

  “G-good,” she said, meaning it, enjoying the full sensation of his massive load in her belly, but doubt ate like acid at her contentment.

  “Yes, it is good,” said Ragusthka, spreading his arms wide and stepping back, his huge cock dangling down to his knees. “Now it is time for you to know the pleasure of my seed in your womb. To bring my wisdom into the world.”

  “The egg,” she whispered, realization striking her.

  “What’s that?” Ragusthka asked, moving behind Sara and pushing her onto her hands and knees.

  “N-nothing,” she said as he lifted her gossamer gown over her plump bum and began to tease his cock against her wet cuntlips. Her need to be taken by the glorious mystic and his perfect cock almost overwhelmed her doubts.

  Then she saw another flash. The egg, open and spilling out that purple miasma. The glowing cloud caressed Sara’s exposed flesh as a tentacle played at her slick pussy. She felt a sense of elation, but also weakness. The egg, or the entity it had allowed into this world, was feeding on the women. It had killed the men outright, but brought the women down here for its perverted feast. Perhaps fertility and birth was a part of it.

  The thought anchored Sara in reality. She could still faintly sense the mystic and the sunlit courtyard, but she perceived it as a ghostly realm superimposed over the dark world of reality. A reality in which, unless she acted quickly, she was about to be fucked by a tentacle from another realm of existence.

  Her pistol had been knocked from her grasp or cast aside at some point while she was hallucinating being in the courtyard. She could see it half-covered by a gray-pink tentacle that was plunging in out of the bum of one of the moaning mercenary women. It was just out of reach, she realized, as she stretched out for it.

  “Tell me you want it, Sara,” said Ragusthka, his voice seeming far away.

  “I… I… want it,” she gasped, her words echoing in the dark hold of the ship. “Fuck me, Ragusthka. Please, Ragusthka!”

  She did want it, even knowing that his cock was actually a fat tentacle about to plunge into her steamy pussy. Sara could not help such desires. She knew she was under some sort of spell that had supercharged her libido. And probably her fertility…

  The tentacle thrust forward suddenly, skewering her tight pussy and stretching her delicate folds as it plunged deep inside her. It reached all the way to her cervix and its tip tickled at her inner opening. She whined with pleasure and shock at the strange sensation. Copious amounts of monstrous slime slid into her stuffed hole and dripped down her thighs. The tentacle began to fuck in and out of her pussy, sending her plump tits swinging.

  Sara resisted the urge to give in to the pleasure completely. She could not ignore it, she still arched her back and thrust her twitching cunt back against the monstrous tentacle, but she remained focused on her pistol. Centimeter-by-centimeter, thrust-by-thrust, she scooted closer to the mercenary being fucked up her arse. Sara’s fingers brushed against the handle of her pistol. She kept moaning, “Yes, fuck me, Ragusthka!”

  “I will wash your womb with my seed! My wisdom will grow within you, Sara!” He roared from far away as the huge tentacle plundered her pussy and began to tease its way into her throbbing cervix. The sensation of the tentacle tip wriggling into that sensitive, narrow passage inside her cause her to flop forward, landing tits-down on the cold, slimy floor.

  It also caused her to fall forward the last few centimeters she needed to reach her gun. Sara’s hand closed around the goo-covered grip of her pistol. Just as she felt the tentacle in her pussy beginning to throb with its bizarre orgasm, she slid forward, sleeping free with a slurp, and rolled onto her back. Her pistol raised, she fired twice into the tentacle as it was spraying out a geyser of monstrous cum.

  The tentacles all around her shrieked like wounded animals and released the other women. They writhed in agony for a moment, giving Sara a chance to pull herself to her feet and pull on her trousers and jacket. As she turned to the glowing egg, the tentacles attacked.

  Sara was ready this time. She ducked, leaped, rolled, and dodged, firing as she moved, blasting holes in the tentacles that came at her. She jumped from a rotted wooden crate to a hanging chain and swung through the dark hold, blasting deadly-accurate shots through any tentacle that reached for her.

  Sara was going for the egg and whatever intelligence guided the tentacles seemed to sense this. They doubled their efforts to ensnare her. As she got closer, some shielded the egg in case she tried to take a shot and others whipped at her furiously as if trying to knock her off balance. One caught her ankle, spilling her off a pile of scrap and causing the pistol to slide out of her grasp. Before a second tentacle could tie her up, Sara drew her knife from its sheath and cut off the tentacle holding her ankle. More screaming and flailing followed from the tentacles, many of which were already wounded by her efforts.

  The blocking wall of tentacles surrounding the egg parted for a moment and Sara took her one chance. She ran headlong at the glowing vessel, leaping into a dive as the tentacles reacted and tried to close their defenses ag
ain. She twisted in the air and she felt the tentacles whipping past her only centimeters from her body. She caught the egg in her arms, cradling it like a rugby ball and rolling onto the floor hard as the tentacle surrounded her. She slammed the egg shut and severed the magic that motivated the tentacles. As one, they dropped lifelessly to the inner deck of the ship.

  For a few seconds, there was quiet but for the soft moans of the women and Sara’s breathless panting. Then the Heart of Kiev began to die. Whatever magic had maintained it in its derelict state faded when the egg was sealed shut and the hull began to tear like wet paper. Fractures opened all around them and cold water gushed into the hold.

  “Everybody get up!” Sara cried, running to Svetlana and helping the dazed treasure hunter to her feet. “Come on! Everyone up! We have to get out of here!”

  The hold was flooding quickly, ice-cold seawater pouring in faster and faster as the fissured in the hole widened. The ship was sinking fast. Sara managed to get all of the women on their feet. Naked and covered in slime, barely aware of what was happening, they followed Sara out of the floodwater and up the stairs.

  Heart of Kiev was beginning to list badly and drawing in more water on its starboard side. It was sitting so low in the water that the top deck was threatening to become submerged on that side. Sara knew enough about sinking ships to know that when that happened there would be only seconds before the whole ship was sucked down.

  “Come on! Up! Everyone up!” Sara got behind the worst straggler – a big, muscular woman with a mannish haircut – and pushed her bodily up the last few rotten steps to the top deck. Baxter’s drone was hovering just above the ship and Sara waved desperately to it.

  A bit of luck was on Sara’s side: the motorboats that had been moored to the steamer were on the starboard side, which meant that they were floating very close to the side of the ship that was about to sink into the water.

  “Get onto the boats,” said Sara as she pushed Svetlana towards one. “Get on. Everybody on!”

  She moved along the deck, making sure all three boats were untied as the dazed, shivering women climbed into them.

  “Now you get on,” said Svetlana, motioning to Sara.

  “Wait for me,” said Sara and she passed the egg to her treasure hunting rival. “I will be right back.”

  Sara knew it was foolish to trust Svetlana and turn back to the sinking ship, but she had no choice. She could not leave it behind. She climbed the increasing incline from the starboard to the port side and ran inside the ship’s wheelhouse. The rusty structure was crumbling as she ran into the room where she had seen the ghost. She grabbed the necklace in her hands as the structure collapsed and huge, rusty sheets spilled in on her.

  Svetlana watched from her motorboat as the wheelhouse sagged and crumbled with a final crash, much of it spilling over the side of the Heart of Kiev and into the frigid water. The steamer finally heeled over, water spraying up on her side as the air was driven out of the interior.

  “Start the engines,” said Svetlana in Russian. She turned her motorboat towards shore, leading the other two away as Heart of Kiev disappeared forever into the nameless Siberian inlet. They reached the shore just as a sleek military-style transport helicopter landed beside the water.

  Julian De Luca, one of the world’s richest men and a man with an insatiable lust for strange artifacts, stepped out of the helicopter. He was accompanied by a squad of black-armored mercenaries.

  “Svetlana Kordova,” said Julian, walking towards the naked, half-frozen Russian treasure hunter, “I see you have the Egg of Balykov.”

  “Is mine, yes,” she said in English, holding the egg against her breasts. The mercenaries closed around her, guns down, but the threat obvious. “You will take from me?”

  “I will compensate you fully, of course,” said Julian. “I just can’t stand the thought of anyone else wasting the potential of such a wonderful artifact.”

  He took the egg from her arms and transferred it to a padded case held by one of his waiting soldiers.

  “The Xerxes Group thanks you for your service,” he said, returning to his helicopter as another man brought forward a briefcase full of money for Svetlana.

  The helicopter was long gone, the float plane had lifted off, and the trucks were driving off into the Siberian wasteland when Sara Chambers finally pulled herself ashore. She should have been dead from hypothermia – she would have been with the slightest bit less conditioning and fitness – but Sara’s will propelled her across the snow-swept shore and into the geodesic structure.

  The shelter had been cleared out, but the last of the diesel was still burning in the rumbling generator that had been abandoned. She found an overturned electric heater and switched it on, crouching as the coils slowly lit up and bathed her naked body in warmth. Only once the water had dried on her did she step away from the heater to search the dark tent for something to wear. She came away with a military patterned parka too big for her, boots a bit too small, and a pair of insulated snow pants. The secure laptop she had seen earlier had been taken.

  Sara crouched down by the heater again and took off the necklace she had been wearing since escaping from the collapsing wheelhouse. The Tsarina Stone seemed to glow a faint blue against the orange of the heater’s coils. Wisps of magical energy floated into the air and the Tsarina materialized next to Sara. She looked around slowly, seeming to touch her insubstantial fingers against the geodesic panels.

  “What is this place?” The tsarina asked. “Where have you brought me?”

  “Siberia,” said Sara. “This on shore. Your ship—“

  “Sank,” said the tsarina, smiling brightly. “I know. I could feel it happening. It really is better off at the bottom of the sea. Did it take that damned egg with it?”

  “Unfortunately, no,” said Sara. “That has been stolen by someone else.”

  “You have to get it back,” said the tsarina, grabbing at Sara’s shoulder. The ghost’s fingers caused a strange, not unpleasant sensation on Sara’s flesh as they seemed to pass inside her skin. She shivered and looked at the worried ghost.

  “That is what I intended to do,” said Sara, “once I figure out who took it and where. But first, I rather think I would like to leave Siberia.”

  “Oh, yes,” said the tsarina. “It is a most unpleasant place.”

  The ghostly image of the tsarina flickered out of existence as boots crunched in the snow outside the tent. Sara tucked the necklace into her parka and stood up from beside the heater. A figure rounded the corner and aimed a machine pistol at Sara.

  “Hands up!” A woman’s voice commanded in Russian.

  “Put up hands,” added a man’s voice in broken English.

  Sara stepped into the predawn light, pulling back the hood of her looted parka.

  “It’s me, you daft cunts,” she said, smiling at Megan and Yuri.

  Megan slung the machine pistol and threw her arms around Sara’s neck, hugging her and kissing her passionately.

  “I thought you died when the ship went down,” said Megan. “Baxter said you went down with it and… and then the helicopter came… and then… they left and we came down here to check to be sure you weren’t down here and here you are and it’s…”

  “Wait, you said a helicopter came?” Sara thought she had heard a helicopter, but she had been fighting to stay alive in the freezing water.

  “A black one,” said Megan. “It had a weird bird symbol on the side.”

  “Was it green?” Sara asked. “Like a hawk or a falcon?”

  “Yes, that’s right,” said Megan. “Did you see it?”

  “Not the helicopter, but I saw the logo on a computer in this tent,” said Sara. “Xerxes. We have to find out who they are and what they’re after. I would bet you anything they have the egg and probably a lot more than that.”

  “We go now,” suggested Yuri.

  “There’s an idea,” said Sara. “Come on. Last one back to the plane has to push start us.”

  She set off at a run up the snowy incline as if she had not just endured a deadly battle with tentacles and a harrowing escape from drowning. Megan and Yuri exchanged a look of disbelief and set off after her.