The Bride of Dagon Collection Read online

Nothing happened. The spider had gone quiet. Sara open her eyes to see the light had died in the spider’s eyes.

  "Damn it, Sara," she heard Megan cry, "I'm so sorry. Baxter was testing the robot with me and..."

  Megan reached down into the tunnel and heaved the metal monstrosity off of Sara. Her eyes went wide as she saw my compromising position.

  "And you forgot to disengage its bloody rapist function?" Sara snapped and smacked away Megan’s helping hand. She pushed upright and scooted out of the spider’s burrow. Megan has seen Sara naked enough times in the gym shower and elsewhere that Sara was not shy about her body. She was also too cross to be worried about being naked. She grabbed Megan by her workout top and threw her back against the fake rocks of the canyon wall. "Your chrome plaything might have really hurt me."

  "At least it wasn't a real giant rape spider," offered Kate sheepishly. “It didn’t do the egg-laying thing with the gelatin eggs did it?”

  “The what?” Sara’s eyes widened.

  “Nothing,” said Megan. “Nevermind. Not implemented yet, I guess.”

  "My workout kit is ruined," Sara snapped at her. “And don't think I won't forget what happened. You and Baxter both are forbidden from playing your naughty little games with my facilities. Do you understand?"

  Megan nodded sheepishly and hurried off. Sara walked back over to the deactivated spider. It was on its backs, legs folded up like a dead insect. Sara ran her fingers over the long, flexible length of the machine’s phallus. It had only touched her for a few seconds and had nearly made her cum. She could only imagine what sort of pleasure the brute might have inflicted if it had been given a full chance.

  “Maybe I can find out,” murmured Sara, playing her fingertip against the clit brush. “And maybe I can use Megan as my test subject.”

  Sara caught up with Megan in the locker room. Both women avoided eye-contact as they showered, but each stole glances at the naked, soapy body of the other. Megan could not hide the guilt in her eyes and Sara was possessed with a sort of angry lust she had rarely felt. They finished their showers and toweled off in the locker area.

  “We’ll call it a draw today,” said Megan, trying to sound magnanimous as she wrapped herself in a soft pink towel.

  “You’re lucky I don’t put you over my knee and spank your little bottom red,” said Sara, taking a moment to admire Megan’s firm bum peaking out beneath her towel.

  “I suppose I do have it coming,” said Megan and she teasingly lifted the back of her towel to reveal her damp cheeks.

  “Mmmm.” Sara pursed her lips, refusing to play along with Megan. “I will have to save that punishment for later. I am going for a swim on the sun deck. You are welcome to join me, even though you trained your robot spider to bugger me.”

  Later, together on the sun deck adjoining Sara’s private suite, Megan and Sara swam in the warm waters of the infinity pool. Sara wore a shimmering blue one-piece that held her ample breasts under control and thronged her shapely ass. Megan favored a pink-and-white-striped string bikini that showed off her slender, muscular body and perky tits. Sara had to admit, she looked delicious in the bikini.

  “You know, if you had just warned me ahead of time what I was up against, I might have enjoyed that naughty spider of yours,” said Sara, watching Megan bounce on the diving board.

  “Baxter’s naughty spider,” corrected Megan. “I told him to make it grab you. He was the one who came up with the cock.”

  Megan dove with perfect form into the pool and came up again near Sara, her dark hair sleek against her long neck and slender shoulders.

  “And the all the little add-ons?” Sara raised an eyebrow, walking closer to Megan with her toes just barely touching the bottom of the pool. “Were all those Baxter’s idea?”

  “Well… I might have come up with one or two of them,” said Megan. “The one that goes up the bum. And the clit brush. And the ovipositor.”

  “Ovipositor? An egg-layer? You are a kinky one,” laughed Sara.

  “It’s why you like me so much,” said Megan, her chin dipping beneath the water’s surface as she bounced weightlessly into Sara’s arms.

  Sara caught Megan under her arms, buoying her just enough to lift her into a kiss. She felt Megan’s smile spreading against her lips, a soft laugh meeting her lust as their tongues encountered one another and their embrace deepened.

  As they kissed, Sara ran her hands down Megan’s supple back, feeling the widening of her hips and the dangling strings of her bikini beneath the water’s surface. Sara pulled them on each side, untying Megan’s bottoms to free her tight bum from the pink-and-white stripes. Sara’s hands roamed down to Megan’s firm cheeks and gave them both a squeeze.

  “Mmmmmm,” moaned Megan, her hot tongue slipping and sliding against Sara’s.

  Sara’s tan arms and face nearly matched Megan’s naturally golden skin, but as they kissed and Megan peeled down the shoulders of Sara’s one-piece, the creamy bikini lines of Sara’s body were revealed and the contrast became apparent. Sara’s breasts were plump, her areolas wide and her nipples thick compared to the dusky domes and small brown pebbles Sara revealed as she removed Megan’s bikini top.

  “God, you’re fit,” said Sara, moaning against Megan’s lips and looking her friend over.

  Megan was slender, compact, perfectly proportioned with well-defined abs. Her perky breasts were capped with juicy brown nipples. A thin strip of black hair topped Megan’s delicate quim. Sara kept things even tidier, choosing to remove every bit of hair south of her head.

  They kissed passionately as Sara guided Megan into shallower waters, onto the sunken staircase and sprawling onto the submerged steps. Megan moaned loudly as Sara’s kissed found her breasts. Sara fondled Megan’s perky mounds and ran her tongue over the tender buds of Megan’s nipples. Megan cooed with pleasure, cradling Sara against her chest and squirming beneath Sara’s exploring fingers. The more Sara kissed Megan, the more Megan squirmed and moan, and the more Sara wanted to kiss her.

  Sara pushed Megan’s legs back, her friend’s dainty feet in the air as the water lapped at Megan’s cunt. She kissed Megan’s toned abs and stroked the soft furrow of Megan’s quim. Sara spread Megan’s dusky cuntlips with her fingers, opening Megan’s flower so that Megan’s inner pink glistened in the sunlight. Sara kissed lower, the weight of her breasts dragging over Megan’s pussy as Sara slid deeper into the water and brought her face even with Megan’s quim.

  “Oh, Sara,” moaned Megan, her thighs quivering, “you know just how to get me revved up.”

  “Vroom, vroom, you little tart,” laughed Sara. She ran her tongue slowly from Megan’s submerged taint, up and out of the water, following the hot folds of Megan’s dusky flower and inner pink, until her tongue reached the bud of Megan’s clit. Megan hissed with pleasure, arching her firm bum out of the water and thrusting her juicy quim at Sara’s tongue. Sara held Megan’s toned inner thighs and battered her tongue against the button of Megan’s pleasure.

  “Ooooohhhh, Sara,” cried Megan, reaching a hand down to cradle Sara’s water-darkened blonde hair.

  Sara laughed and began to lick and suck Megan’s sugary cunt with relish. Sara sucked at Megan’s clit and thrust two long fingers into the clutching depths of Megan’s pussy. Megan tried to wrap her powerful legs around Sara’s head, but Sara kept a hand pressed down on Megan’s toned abdomen and held Megan under control. Sara set her own pace, finger-fucking into Megan’s clutching cunt as she teased, tongued, and lewdly slurped on Megan’s clit in alternating efforts.

  “You’re making me mental,” cried Megan, her body twisting with the edged agony of being held near the point of orgasm. “Let me cum, please, Sara.”

  “Think you deserve it?” Sara teased, flicking her tongue erratically against Megan’s clit. “After subjecting me to your robot boyfriend?”

  “Never… ooohhh… never would have hurt you,” whined Megan. “Please, Sara, let me… let me cum…”

  “Maybe,” said Sara, teasing her pinkie against Megan’s arsehole, “I didn’t want a spider sticking things up my bum.”

  “Oohhh, I want it up my arse,” moaned Megan.

  “See, you are a little tart,” laughed Sara and she pushed her pinkie into the tight clench of Megan’s arsehole. “Alright then, love, I’ll let you cum. Make it… spectacular.”

  Sara looked up into Megan’s eyes and clamped her sucking mouth onto the Megan’s clit and her slick mound. She drew the cusp of Megan’s quim with suction and furiously battered that throbbing bud with her tongue as she pumped her fingers in and out of Megan’s cunt and arsehole.

  Megan’s reaction was almost instantaneous. Her grip tightened on Sara’s head and her body tensed and almost lifted completely out of the water. She bucked her hips as much as Sara’s hand on her tummy would allow, thrusting against Sara’s fingers and her sucking mouth.

  “OOOOOhhhhhhh yessssss!” Megan cried, her pleasure squeezing around Sara’s thrusting digits. Megan’s pert tits jiggled with her vibrations of pleasure as powerful spasms rocked Megan’s entire body. Sara knew how to suck and thrust her fingers to prolong Megan’s pleasure, turning Megan’s excruciating ecstasy from a few seconds into more than a minute of wailing and bucking.

  “Pardon me, mum,” said Sara’s elderly butler Winston from beside the pool.

  Megan squealed in surprise, dismounting from Sara’s fingers and face and leaping into the pool to hide her modesty. Sara, accustomed to being intruded upon by the doddering old man, waded over to the edge of the pool and looked up at him. She sometimes thought Winston knew exactly what he was doing when he walked in on her changing clothes or bathing or masturbating, but he was absolutely harmless and probably couldn’t see anything beneath his huge, bushy eyebrows, so she let
him get away with it.

  “What is it, Winston?” She asked, licking a bit of Megan’s nectar from her lower lip.

  “Mr. Honeycutt has been calling you repeatedly,” said Winston. “I believe you left your telephone in your robe in the bedroom.”

  “Ah, alright then, was it something important?” Sara climbed out of the pool and Winston handed her a folded towel. His rheumy blue eyes seemed to glance at her luscious body in her dripping one-piece. She took the towel and dried her hair rather than wrapping herself up, letting him ogle her hard nipples straining her bathing suit and the way the suit threaded through her shapely bum to tautly cradle her hairless mound.

  “Eh, I believe so, mum,” said Winston. “Something about a ship.”

  “The Tsarina’s ship! He has finally found it!” She tossed the towel onto Winston’s ever-present serving tray. “Come on, Megan! Let’s go!”

  Megan climbed naked out of the pool, covering herself with her hands as she raced into the bedroom. Sara followed her, peeling shamelessly out of her bathing suit to quickly change into something else. As she disappeared inside, Winston was still slowly turning, the silver tray trembling in his hands as he began his long journey back into the house.

  Sara and Megan arrived in Baxter’s corner of Chambers Manor’s sprawling library, the large, mullioned windows lit with the golden light of the fading sun. The pasty-faced boffin was hunched over a trio of laptops as they approached.

  When he did not react to their approach, Sara picked up a copy of Llockwyn’s Ancient Firearms from a shelf and dropped it onto a table with the boom of a gunshot. She shouted, “Baxter!”

  He jumped so badly that his chair overturned and he spilled out of it, ending up on his back, round eyeglasses askew, staring up at Sara from ground level. From his perspective she seemed to be a pair of long, lovely legs rising up to two enormous breasts sheathed in a tight camouflage tank with her eyes and the top of her head peering out from above these magnificent mounds.

  “Get up off the floor,” she scolded and he snapped out of his shock and scrambled to his feet.

  “S-sorry,” he said.

  “What do you have?” Megan asked impatiently.

  “Oh, right,” Baxter hurried over to the laptops. Sara picked up his overturned chair and joined him. He leaned over the computers and began scrolling multiple satellite views.

  “Remember that imagery I showed you from Chukotka?” Baxter asked. Sara stared at him so he continued. “Uh, well, that’s Siberia, and I had some image of an ice pack in the middle of nowhere off the northern coast of Russia. Iced harbor, right?”

  “You thought you saw part of a ship visible,” said Sara. “I saw the imagery. It looked like a dirty mound.”

  “Rust, dirt would have been snow covered, but that’s not the point. The point was it made no sense. It was a thousand kilometers from The Heart of Kiev’s last location and there was no way to confirm what we were seeing. Until…” He scrolled another satellite view to the same location. “The survey’s imagery updated. Apparently there is a new reactor in Khibirsk and it’s pumping its warm water into the river, which thawed, and flows out… here…”

  “It melted the harbor,” said Sara, leaning closer to the computer. “Can you zoom in?”

  “Yes,” said Baxter, zooming the view in on the harbor. “The inlet doesn’t even have a name. Just a number from a Soviet-era geologic survey. 266K.”

  He zoomed in and Sara let out her breath in a slow gasp. The “dirt” from the previously ice-locked imagery had become unmistakably a rusty red steamship. It looked to have two stacks of three intact and seemed to be afloat rather than partially submerged.

  “It’s the Heart of Kiev,” said Sara. “It must be.”

  “Refresh my memory about why you’re after this ship?”

  “I’ll tell you on the plane,” said Sara, already walking away from Baxter.

  “Wait, plane,” said Sara. “Where are we going now?”

  “Siberia,” said Sara as she walked out of the library.

  Northern Siberia

  The Ilyushin Il-12 vibrated through the air with all the gracefulness of an unbalanced washer. The blue, prop-driven transport aircraft was of late 1950s vintage and made even the unflappable Sara Chambers a bit concerned for her safety. It was the only private transport to the remote location Baxter had been able to contract on short notice. At least, the only one willing to risk landing on the icy landscape near enough to inlet 266K to make the expedition feasible.

  Yuri, the stocky Russian in the pilot seat, navigated the plane through a bit of turbulence that felt as if it might snap one of the shaking wings off the fuselage. He glanced back.

  “Okay, Miss Chambers, good flight. Very safe,” he said and grinned at her.

  She forced a smile. Yuri gave her a thumbs up and his headset fell off his head and slid out of the open cockpit. The plane banked left as he leaned over to reel in the headset by its cable. Sara looked away from the slewing landscape out the front windscreen and over at Megan, who was bundled up in five layers of thermal gear and still looking half-frozen and green with airsickness.

  “Going to be sick again?” Sara asked, reaching for one of the unused paper bags that had become indispensable for Megan on the flight.

  “N-no,” said Megan. “Just… just talk to me so I don’t think about it. T-tell me again about the Heart of Kiev.”

  “Three times? Alright then, love,” said Sara, placing a comforting hand on her friend’s leg. “So the tsarina, Xenia Kochenkov, was having trouble conceiving, so she went to this Koryak mystic named Ragusthka. A real dodgy sort, lived in a hut in the middle of nowhere, ate cats, that sort of bloke. He gave her the formula to create a very dangerous magical item. Now, the tsarina was devout Russian Orthodox, so any word gets out she is meddling in black magic is going to be the end of her and her husband, Nikolas.”

  “The ship,” croaked Megan.

  “Right,” said Sara, interrupted for a moment by another rough bout of turbulence. Megan’s eyes rolled fearfully. One the vibrations had stopped, Sara pressed on, “so the tsarina takes the Heart of Kiev, the tsar’s steam ship, his greatest vessel, and she sails around the world gathering ingredients to create this thing called the Egg of Balykov. Supposedly, this golden egg, encrusted with jewels, filled with rare alchemical ingredients, and enchanted by Ragusthka, will make any woman fertile. Extremely fertile.”

  “Too fertile,” said Megan.

  “That was the fear, yes,” said Sara. “The Tsarina was said to have returned to Russia on the ship with the egg, but she and the ship disappeared. There are many horror stories, but the most common is that she gave birth to something evil. Some monster summoned by Ragusthka or the magic of the egg. I’m not too keen on that, I think it’s more likely a mutiny given all the political upheaval at the time, but it’s hard to say. For the ship to still be afloat after a century…”

  “Some sort of curse,” said Megan, repeating one of Sara’s comments from an earlier retelling of the story.

  “Right, you run into those quite often in our line of work,” said Sara.

  Yuri leaned out of the cockpit again and shouted, “Okay, landing now. But someone else here.”

  “What?!”

  Sara stood up out of her seat and started towards the cockpit. She had feared that someone else would see what Baxter had found and would come after the Heart of Kiev. But she had rushed this expedition so much she thought surely she would win that race.

  She reached the cockpit and almost fell into the instrument panel as Yuri pitched the nose of the aircraft towards the vast white ice sheet covering the ground. In the distance, Sara could make out the hazy inlet, dark with melted water. She could almost see the hulk of the ship, but her gaze was drawn to a pair of trucks on the ground and a big, modern heavy-transport float plane landed in the inlet. Sara buckled into the empty copilot’s seat as the engines roared louder and the icy landscape approached with alarming speed.

  “Hard landing,” said Yuri. “Hope skis not break.”

  The old Il-12’s landing gear was equipped with skis for operating on snowy terrain. Evidently, a hard landing might break them. Before Sara had time to consider the likelihood of that hard landing, her head was thrown back against the beaded seat cover of the copilot’s chair as the plane slammed into the snowy terrain. It could generously be described as a crash landing, as opposed to a crash, with the plane skidding 180 degrees around as it slid across the snowy field. Huge gusts of snow were plowed up over the windscreen, mercifully blotting out Sara’s view of her impending doom.