The Bride of Dagon Collection Page 4

  Another glance behind her and she saw the fin perhaps five meters behind her. It was too fast, but she had had to try to outrun it to the shore.

  Mercifully, she reached an upward slope in the lagoon and her legs emerged more from the water with each step. Two steps and she was at mid-thigh. Two more and she was just above her knee. She glanced behind her again and the fin was scarcely two meters away. The pale, scaly hump of the creature’s back was sticking out of the water. She could see the tops of its gills flexing and the red eyes staring at her just beneath the surface. It seemed to sense she had almost escaped and it thrashed furiously to gain speed.

  Sara lurched to the shore and practically leapt the last meter onto the slippery rocks. Breathless, adrenaline throbbing in her veins, she rolled onto her back just as the creature surged out of the water. It surged out of the water at her. It had the rounded head of a loach, but the serrated teeth of a shark, maw open and gaping as it pushed itself on its pectoral fins towards her booted foot.

  “I don’t think so,” said Sara and she drew one of her pistols and fired.

  The noise was horrible within the confines of the cave. The bright flare of the muzzle illuminated the holes as the bullets punched through the creature’s thick skull. It took four shots to put it down. The creature gurgled, eyes rolling in its head, and it slid lifelessly back into the lagoon. Its body floated slowly to the surface behind it, revealing a serpentine length of nearly ten meters. Sara got to her feet at the edge of the lagoon, breasts heaving with exertion, and stared in amazement at the size of the beast.

  “A bloody dinosaur,” she murmured, although the words were more for her own comfort. The truth, she suspected, was that this creature was not natural at all. More likely, it was part of some ancient magical defense erected by the Inyakans. They were clearly not very keen on visitors to their temple.

  The radio crackled and Megan shouted, “What the hell was that, Sara!? Are you shooting?”

  Sara unclipped the radio from the webbing of her small pack and explained, “Doing a bit of fishing. Nothing to worry about.”

  “Can you warn me the next time before you start shooting guns?” Megan sounded more shaken than Sara felt.

  “Will do my best, love,” said Sara. “I’m heading into the temple now.”

  “Be careful,” said Megan.

  “Always,” lied Sara as she watched the dead creature float in the lagoon.

  She switched off the radio and turned back to the temple. She approached with great caution, mindful of pit traps, pressure plates, tripwires, and various other traps she had encountered over her years of treasure hunting. There were no further traps on her way to the entrance of the temple, but there was a warning spelled out in pictographs. She was familiar enough with Inyakan to decipher their meaning. The first guardian was the serpent, the second the flower, and the third was the heart.

  “A serpent, a flower, and a heart,” she said softly. “Why does that last one give me greatest cause for concern?”

  There was more to the pictographs. The motif of a knife and worshippers kneeling before a knife was repeated several times. The Dagger of Delight was, at some point, inside the temple that stood before her in the cave. It might have been removed by worshippers or looters long ago. There was only one way to find out.

  Sara clipped her torch to her backpack’s shoulder strap and set off into the temple with both of her pistols drawn. The temple path was narrow and hemmed in by statues with features lost to the minerals that dripped from the upper levels of the cave. The accretion of so much white and yellow minerals gave the statues monstrous facial features and heightened the tension of Sara’s journey.

  She reached a room with a stone door set on iron hinges. The door was jammed and she had to lever it open with the crowbar she carried in her pack. The hinges gave out and the huge slab of the door tilted and fell to the floor inside the room, smashing into a dozen chunks. Sara stepped gingerly over it and into a round room filled with the strong and unmistakable smell of flowers. The aroma was cloying and made her eyes water; the scent seemed to be coming from several clay pots containing dried petals.

  “Aleorana Malyotoxsis,” gasped Sara, reaching for a handkerchief. Lustbloom, as it was called, was a hallucinogenic flower sometimes smoked by ancient Inyakan warriors. It was said to turn their fears into desires and their pain into pleasure. It was used by warriors unlikely to survive a battle with the enemy because smoking it was often fatal.

  Sara was not smoking it, but the aroma was still getting to her. The handkerchief over her mouth mitigated the smell, but she could already see telltale flickering of colors at the edges of her vision. She could leave now or she could continue on, but she could not stay in this room for more than a few minutes.

  “Not turning back,” said Sara, her body feeling warm and pleasant despite her growing fear. She breathed the floral scent through her handkerchief and searched the room for any sign of another door. Her vision swam and seemed to congeal again. She felt with her fingers and found a stone panel set into the wall. An object of brown stone about 25 centimeters long jutted from the center of the panel at waist height. She aimed her torch’s light at the object and gasped.

  It wasn’t stone at all, she realized. It was tan flesh… living flesh! She crouched closer and saw the exquisite lifelike phallus that jutted from the stone wall. It was a cock nine or ten inches in length with a thick bulbous tip and ridges along the shaft.

  “What in the hell?” She prodded the cock with her fingertip and it jerked visibly. Stranger still, it was warm against her touch. She ran her fingertip beneath the shaft and down to cum-heavy bollocks that dangled beneath the root. She hefted them in her hand. They felt real!

  Feeling a surge of desire, perhaps enhanced by the fragrance of the lustbloom, Sara dropped the handkerchief from her mouth and leaned down to give the cock a lick. It twitched against her tongue and as she licked across the head she tasted the unmistakable salty hint of precum.

  Sara gave in to the sudden urge to pleasure this seemingly incongruous cock. She moaned as she took it into her eager mouth, swirling her tongue around its bulging tip and sucking it greedily. Her saliva glistened upon the shaft. She slurped lewdly and fondled the heavy bollocks. The more she sucked, the more of the lustbloom she breathed. The cock jerked against her tongue and she tasted more of its salty-sweet precum.

  “More,” she gasped, pulling her lips free of the wet cock. “I need to fuck.”

  There were few positions that would work with a cock jutting out of a flat surface, but Sara found that by dropping her shorts from her peachy bum and turning around, she could line her soaking slit up with the protruding cock. She stared across the room at the broken stone door and the hall beyond illuminated by her torch. They seemed to swim and dance, shadowing moving and assuming the shape of a lovely woman as she backed onto the cock, guiding it to her dewy folds.

  “Yesssss,” she hissed. “Oh my god, yes!”

  It was magnificent and thick and warm! It was warm as it spread her tender cunt and she pushed back until her bum was flushed against the stone wall. The shadow woman before her began to dance and gyrate her inky black hips. Only her eyes were visible in detail, staring with lust at Sara as she fucked back against the cock.

  Sara was not afraid of the shadowy woman. Some part of her knew that it was only a phantasm conjured by her mind, even as this woman robed in darkness danced closer and began to caress Sara’s swaying breasts. Sara kissed her shadow lips and tasted her shadow tongue, arching her back and crying into the kiss as her orgasm took hold.

  She bucked her hips and fucked herself with the thick cock. She rode her ass back against the stone until she felt the fat tool swell and begin to spurt inside her. Hot pumps of cum prolonged Sara’s orgasm. She took the mysterious load and cried out her pleasure into the smothering mouth of the shadow woman.

  There was a loud click from behind Sara and the cock filling her with spunk suddenly pulled out of her fluttering quim. Silky cream dripped from her freshly-fucked pussy. She stumbled awkwardly away from the wall, her ass bare and pussy leaking, and she turned to see that the square panel that had once mounted the cock was gone. Sara’s flashlight shined down a dark, smooth-sided shaft that descended beneath the temple.

  The shadow woman beckoned for Sara to stay, but Sara knew better. Though drunk with pleasure, she pulled her shorts up and buckled them. It took a few attempts to climb into the tunnel. The sides of the shaft were smooth and the angle so steep that gravity took over and Sara slid into the darkness.

  The lingering effects of the lustbloom made it difficult for her to judge how long or how deep she plummeted into the depths of the temple. Her torch broke loose of her shoulder clip and tumbled down ahead of her, finally plunging into some larger room. She cried out as she fell into the room behind it, falling for several seconds before landing, rather softly, on what felt like grass and cool dirt.

  Despite being badly disoriented, Sara rolled from the impact into a crouch and drew both of her pistols. She was ready to face some other guardian beast. What she was not expecting to find was a bight, grassy field and a handsome man with the brown skin, dark hair, and patterned, bright face-paint of an Inyakan. The yellow pigment rectangles across his forehead marked him as a chieftain, but the wavy yellow and blue lines on his muscular neck marked him as a shaman. He wore a jaguar hide loincloth and strips of dyed cloth decorated his legs.

  “Sara Chambers. Welcome to the Temple of Temptation.” The man spoke in a voice so deep that his words vibrated in Sara’s chest. He spoke perfect English with a flat accent that sounded almost American. “You can put your weapons away. They are no use to you here.”

  She knew he was right. If she pulled the triggers of h
er pistols, they would not fire. She holstered them and slowly got to her feet. She stood several centimeters taller than the chieftain, but he was well-muscled and moved in a casual way that betrayed incredible strength.

  “Who are you?” Sara asked what seemed to be the salient question.

  “I am Kunyak Quaraatzl. I am the keeper of the treasure. You,” he gently prodded Sara’s chest just above the swell of her left breast, “are a treasure hunter. What treasure do you seek?”

  “The Dagger of Delight,” said Sara.

  “Mmmm.” He nodded. “It is here. Would you like to see it?”

  “Yes, please,” said Sara.

  Kunyak walked across the grassy field and to a plain modern doorway which stood apart from any structure. Sara’s head was still swimming with the heat of the lustbloom, but she did not think this was a hallucination. If it was an illusion, it was one created from outside her mind.

  “It is through here,” said Kunyak and he turned the doorknob and slowly swung open the door. Through the doorway stood a vast chamber lit with golden light and filled with riches beyond anything Sara had ever imagined. Golden statues, ancient pottery, lost scrolls, jeweled armor, and heaps of coins from forgotten civilizations filled the room. At the center of this staggering collection of wealth, mounted upon a marble plinth, was the Dagger of Delight.

  Kunyak stepped through the doorway and into the room. He beckoned to Sara from beside the plinth. Though she suspected a trap, she could not resist the lure of the room. She stepped through the doorway and approached him cautiously.

  “You have a lovely collection of… my god, is that a lost Vermeer?” Sara asked, noticing a painting in the style of Johannes Vermeer that depicted a visitation to the tomb of Jesus Christ. It was thought to be destroyed over a century earlier.

  “Yes, it is,” said Kunyak. “But I must warn you, Sara Chambers, that you may only take one object from this room. If you attempt to take more than one, I will punish you.”

  “What? How will you punish me?” She asked, resting her hands on her pistols and cocking her shapely hips to one side.

  “Mmmm.” Kunyak smiled mysteriously. His dark eyes betrayed nothing. “That is for me to decide.”

  “The dagger then,” said Sara, forcing her attention back to the plinth baring the Dagger of Delight.

  She lifted it in her hands, feeling the surprising weight of it. The dagger was 20 centimeters in length, forged from a silvery metal that was almost as flawless and reflective as chrome. The handle was cast in platinum with mother-of-pearl inlaid in the grip. She drew it from its plain sheath of brown leather adorned only with a simple Inyakan pictograph of a heart.

  “Magnificent,” she said as she held the dagger in one hand and the sheath in the other. She could feel power coursing through her body and throbbing in her loins. This was the power she knew could defeat the Ring of Brahmacharya.

  “It is said no man can resist a woman’s groove when she wields the Dagger of Delight,” said Kunyak.

  “A man who embraces her,” said Sara, flipping the blade up and catching it by its handle, “will experience pleasure a hundredfold. But is it true?”

  “Yes,” said Kunyak.

  Sara sheathed the dagger and slid the sheath into the waistband of her shorts. Even sheathed, the dagger continued to pulse with erotic power. She felt the urge to test it out on Kunyak, to wrap her legs around him and make him explode inside her, but she resisted such urges.

  “I choose the Dagger of Delight,” said Sara.

  “Very good,” said Kunyak, gesturing to the doorway. “You may take one object and leave.”

  She started towards the open door, looking out from the golden vault of the Temple of Temptation to the grassy field beyond the door’s frame. She placed her hand on the door’s frame and felt a faint tingling. She lifted her boot to step through the door and stopped.

  Sara turned around suddenly and discovered Kunyak standing very close, his eyes wide and dark like a cat’s ready to pounce, his brow furrowed, and an expectant smile on his face. He jerked back and the smile disappeared.

  “What is wrong, Sara Chambers?”

  She answered him by drawing the dagger again from its sheath. She held it up to his face, the blade close to but not touching his chiseled cheek. The curve of the distorted metal turned his reflection into something monstrous and withered.

  “I do not need the dagger,” she said and held the knife out to him.

  “But you have chosen it,” he said.

  “The magic does not reside within the dagger itself,” said Sara, holding up the sheath. “It is the sheath. Any blade may fit it just as any man may fit a woman. The pleasure, the irresistibility, are granted by this sheath.”

  Kunyak’s face took a hard expression and he snatched the knife out of her hand. The golden treasure room faded to darkness. The rolling green hills were gone. She stood with the keeper in a room of dark, cold stone.

  “You have the heart,” said Kunyak. “It is my heart and the heart of the temple. When you take it, I will perish and the temple will crumble.”

  “I did not set out to hurt you,” said Sara.

  “No,” agreed Kunyak and he sat down upon a bench of black stone, his muscular shoulders slumping wearily. “It is just as well, Sara Chambers. I have guarded this place for many centuries. In all that time, since my people left this place, no one has made it past the serpent. It is time for me to rest.”

  He looked up at her and favored her with a sad smile.

  “You are the first human I have spoken to in eight hundred years. You will be the last. I am glad you are so lovely.”

  Sara sat down beside Kunyak on the bench. She lifted his chin with two fingers and gazed into his dark eyes.

  “I’m in no hurry,” said Sara. “After all, I have to be sure this will work with just the sheath.”

  She kissed Kunyak on his lips, surprising him and pressing him upright on the bench as she thrust her soft breasts against his muscular chest. He tried to speak and instead she thrust her tongue into his mouth, tasting the mustiness of the underworld and the cool rasp of stone. He recovered from his initial surprise and pulled her to him, her body against his cool, chiseled flesh. Sara’s sought his loincloth with one hand, reaching beneath the jaguar pelt to feel the stiff length of his manhood.

  “Oh, you’re a big one,” she laughed against his lips.

  “I am glad,” he said between kisses with growing fervor, “that you are so lovely.”

  His strong hands took her top off and peeled away her sports bra. He caressed her breasts, groaning as his brown fingers sunk into the creamy flesh of her mounds. He played with her sensitive nipples, eliciting a moan from her as they kissed. They soon sprawled on the bench and Sara put the weight of her breasts in his face so he could kiss them and suck them.

  As the randy Inyakan amused himself with Sara’s mounds, she finally freed his cock and began to wank him in the dark depths of the temple. He was massive. He put Julian and most of Sara’s other lovers to shame.

  “Bloody hell,” she whispered, glancing at his upright cock twitching in her grasp. Regardless of any misgivings about his size, Sara was determined to fit his fat cock into her aching pussy. She had been craving a good cock again since she picked up the dagger. Whatever that was that had happened with the cock sticking out of the wall had failed to satisfy her.

  “My lovely treasure hunter,” moaned Kunyak, sucking at her right nipple and then her left. “My staff has not risen in centuries. You will anoint me with your nectar?”

  “That’s the idea,” she said, lifting her breasts from his face to shift on the bench and straddle his muscular hips. She leaned her shoulders back to watch, braced with one arm, as she used her other hand to guide Kunyak’s massive cock to her glistening cunt. She twitched her hips and slid her petals against his cockhead. Kunyak groaned loudly, holding Sara’s hips as he watched her teasing him. He permitted it for a moment longer and then, with a primal growl, he pulled her down onto his cock.