“I don’t know if this is such a good idea,” Fidget moaned, wringing his hands. “I mean, I… you know, I just don’t. It looks big, and nasty, and dark. We should go back to town.”
Lamia smirked, licking her lips. “Big, nasty, and dark? That’s kinda how I like ‘em to look.”
“Yes, but…” Fidget shrank behind his master’s cape, using his fright as an excuse to run a hand across her backside. “You’re not normally talking about… mountains…”
Lamia had to confess to herself that Fidget was right, though she swatted his fingers away all the same. The onyx spire that was Nympho Peak didn’t inspire much lust in her from sight alone: twice as tall as the Terribly-Titted Titans put together and not nearly so seductive, the Peak jutted out of the landscape with the subtlety and grace of an erect penis, albeit one with far too many pointy edges. Narrow trails ran ‘round the outside of its chunky surface like entwined serpents, leading to a cave somewhere so far up that Lamia couldn’t spot the entrance from the ground.
Lamia waved away her dwarven assistant’s concerns. “You’re just bein’ a pansy. Or you’re trying to get out of climbing all that because your legs are short. Either way, you’re coming with me. We need to get that gem.”
“We don’t need to get it,” Fidget protested. “You want to get it. I’d rather find an alehouse and drink until I’m sleepy. This is too much for me.”
“Well, we can’t afford a room at an alehouse unless we get the fucking gem and sell it, now can we?” Lamia tousled Fidget’s light cropping of curly brown hair. He was half her height, twice her age, and easy to demean. “C’mon. I promise I’ll give you a nice blowjob if you stop bitching.”
Fidget hesitated a moment, peering down at his crotch. He sighed and picked up his pack. “You’ve never given me a blowjob before and you never will.”
“Never say never!” Lamia pointed towards the base of Nympho Peak. “Onward!”
Lamia was a pert young woman of twenty-four, though she regularly lied and told those who lusted after her that she was twenty, and with her transformative magic she knew she could maintain the charade until she hit her sixties. Long-legged and sinewy, wearing little more than a cape, an armored bra, and crotch-plate underwear, she inspired amorous glances wherever she went. Lamia liked to think that her slender, well-proportioned face, shoulder-length, raven hair and blazing blue eyes drew most of the attention, but she knew the boobs did much of the work. Men, women, monsters and mages, all liked her magnificent mammaries.
It was those same breasts that were heaving as Lamia entered the fifth minute of their climb towards the top of Nympho Peak. The rest of her body shuddered alongside them, and she collapsed dramatically, placing a hand against her brow. “Oh! This is… ah… this is… too much…! Carry… carry me…?”
“I… I said… this was… a bad… idea… “ Fidget collapsed beside her. Arm shuddering, he reached out and shakily caressed her leg. “Let’s… let’s just… rest…”
Lamia slapped him away. Still breathing hard, she sat up on the dirt incline and peered up the rock wall of Nympho Peak. It was, she decided, much larger than she’d anticipated, at least half a day’s trek up to the top. She looked over her shoulder and scowled at how little progress they’d made so far.
“Zoot’s… Zoot’s horny breath, this is… gonna take… forever,” Lamia huffed. Waving a finger, she cast a quick spell of invigoration on herself. Glittering sparks shot out of her fingertip, whirled around her body, and refreshed her at once. She stood. “Ah, that’s better. But, hells, there must be a better way to reach the top than this winding path bullshit.”
“Some for me… too…” Fidget pleaded, collapsing under the weight of the pack on his back. “Please… I’m… you make me carry… so much… the dildos… are… so heavy…”
“Magic doesn’t work on dwarves, I keep telling you,” Lamia casually lied. Walking to the side of the path, cape whipping in the wind so forcefully that it slapped Fidget in the face, she inspected the rough rock wall. “Quiet. Mama needs to work for a minute. Can’t be a fuckin’ cult living here if… hmm, maybe…”
Closing her eyes, Lamia folded her fingers together in silent prayer. She concentrated on herself, then, pulling a part of her soul into the outer world through an act of mystic bullshit, she called upon Zoot to guide her path. The eternal goddess responded at once, and as Lamia’s lovely blues flew open again they turned a glowing green. Through her magnified sight Lamia could see, and what she saw were the faint traces of footprints behind Fidget and herself. They terminated against the rock wall, twenty feet behind them.
Lamia grinned, and her eyes faded back to normal. “Pay dirt. Get up, you lump. I’ve done all the work. Again.”
Fidget groaned, watching as his master ran her hands along the wall and back several paces. “Oh, please don’t… don’t… don’t tell me we have to turn around…”
Lamia rolled her eyes, but they lit up with glee as her fingers dipped abruptly into lumpy onyx, sinking directly into the rock. The darkened surface slowly faded away as the magic concealing it dissipated, leaving behind a volleyball-sized hole. Another appeared beside it, equal in size and depth. Lamia inspected the holes, looking down at herself as she did.
Fidget stumbled to her side, tipping back and forth as he struggled to get his pack on his back. A wad of used tissue tumbled out of one flap and blew away, unnoticed. “What… what is it…?”
“It’s a locking mechanism,” Lamia replied. She reached behind her back, hands fumbling under her cape. “Ran into the same thing on the Funkalicious Coast once. They must have some epic women in this cult for shit this big. Hope it shrinks to my size. Here I thought I was pretty busty already.”
“I don’t - “ Fidget began, but his mouth dropped open too quickly for him to finish the sentence. He struggled for words for several seconds as he watched Lamia. “What are you…?”
Lamia’s bra fell to the dirt with a loud clunk, leaving a slight chink in the metal framework. Lamia straightened, brushing her hair away from her rounded, ample breasts. They were supple but firm, large enough for a hearty handful but not so huge as to overwhelm the senses, and she used enchantments each morning to keep them pert and perky. The chill air played at Lamia’s nipples, rousing them to excitement, and Lamia ran circles around each one with her fingertips.
“There has got to be… a point… to this…” Fidget struggled, already sporting half a tent pole in his trousers.
“Oh, there is. Enjoy the show.” Winking and taking a breath, Lamia leaned forward and placed her breasts into the holes.
The effect was immediate. The holes closed around Lamia’s tits, just hard enough to hold them in place, and the rock began to smooth and pinch as it flowed over Lamia’s chest in small, liquid waves. Lamia’s face reddened and tightened slightly, and she worked to suppress a moan as a slick, unseen wetness worked at her nipples. The tug on each reddened tip was just forceful enough to be pleasant without hurting, and Lamia closed her eyes, imagining a well-muscled pair of lads ganging up on her instead.
“This…” Fidget bit his lip. He rubbed his crotch. “Uh… can I…”
“No,” Lamia replied at once. “Mmmm, that’s… ah. That’s not… not bad. Turn around, you voyeuristic fuck, I’m working.”
Fidget tried to masturbate anyway. He wasn’t fast enough, as it was too awkward to tug himself with his trousers still on, but he decided it was the most satisfying interaction he’d had with his master yet.
Nympho Peak required approximately two minutes of suckling on Lamia’s breasts before apparently feeling satiated, and the holes released her with a deep, satisfied sigh that burbled out of the rock. As Lamia retrieved her bra from the ground a circular doorway opened in the wall, illuminated from within by a row of burning candles, each the shape of a penis. The tunnel beyond led to a circular altar.
“C’mon.” Clasping her bra back in place, sweat dewing her forehead, Lamia stepped inside. She plucked the first penis candle from its hole in the wall, snuffed the flame with her gloved hand, and tossed it to Fidget. “Save that for later. I like the shape. Might try and merchandise it. We can call them ‘Dick Wicks’, or something. Ha ha, that’s pretty good, actually! Dick Wicks.”
~~~
The altar, it turned out, was an elevator. The moment they set foot on the metal floor it began to rise, slowly at first, then picking up speed as it shot up the length of Nympho Peak. Fidget braced himself as best he could, fearing the elevator might shoot them straight out the top of the mountain like spunk from a cock, but it slowed and shuddered to a halt.
“You’re sort of a pussy,” Lamia commented. She’d barely flinched the entire way up, standing proudly and inspecting her breasts for signs of damage as the elevator whizzed along. “Have I mentioned that before, Fidget?”
“Yes, all the time,” the dwarf groaned. “It’s hard not to worry when you’re trying to steal something from a cult.”
“You act like you have to do the difficult part in this.” Lamia wagged a finger as she stepped off the altar. “You get to hide. I’m the one who has to put on a show. Leave the pack here, we’ll be back for it.”
“I get to jump in if things go wrong,” Fidget pointed out, looking nervous, though happy to drop the pack for a change. He straightened, and his back cracked. “And they will, I know they will! Things always go wrong when you plan something!”
“Well, you’re fired when we get back to town. Just saying. I don’t need downers in my organization.” Lamia pressed a finger to her lips. “Now keep quiet. These guys’re perverts. If they find you they’ll fuck you to death with a mace or something, I bet. I’ll get royal treatment, because, well, look at me, but you’re a dwarf, you know? Mace fucking in your future. So zip it.”
Fidget zipped it.
Lamia quickly found herself appreciating the style sense of the owners of Nympho Peak. Once they’d moved past the comparatively bland stone corridors near the altar the inside of the cult’s headquarters opened up into a series of spacious rooms, each festooned with an assortment of carpets, oaken furniture, marble statues of nude men and women entangled in coitus, and sex toys beyond count. Huge, ornate banners ran along the walls, each embroidered with the image of a nude, green-skinned woman with white hair and an outfit that left little to the imagination. Old-timey runes running along the edges of the banners hinted at a mystical origin, but Lamia didn’t care enough to translate.
“Sexy,” Lamia muttered under her breath. “And quiet. Where the hell is everybody?”
Fidget shrugged. “Maybe they’re asleep? We’ve been in three rooms now and haven’t seen any beds… could be we haven’t found the sleeping quarters…”
Lamia lifted her boot, glancing down at the carpet under her feet. It looked as plush as any mattress, and bore the telltale marks of many, many stains. “No, I think these playboys just flop down wherever the fuck they like. Keep your eyes open, yeah? We only want one of these assholes to see me, and if my info’s correct he’s the only guy who’s here all the time.”
“Okay.” Fidget nodded. He moved so close to Lamia that he almost crawled under her cape.
“Fuck off out of there,” Lamia insisted, kicking the dwarf aside. “You need to keep away from me, remember? Watch the doorways and stay out of sight. If I get caught by someone else I can at least convince them to take me to their leader. You, not so much. Remember the mace fucking?”
“I remember the mace fucking,” Fidget confessed. He scurried away from his master and hid at the edge of the room, waiting for her okay to move.
The cult headquarters was much larger than Lamia had expected, and it took half an hour of sneaking uselessly through empty chambers before she found something worth seeing: a massive, wooden door. Four times taller than Lamia and a dozen times as wide, the door was covered in runic symbols and flanked by two more banners bearing the image of the green-skinned woman. Only a flat, rounded patch in the middle of the door was unmarked, and Lamia inspected it for some sort of door knocker or handle.
“Nothing,” Lamia muttered. She frowned and peered around, then, experimenting, rapped her knuckles against the bare wood.
“Did you find anything?” Fidget called from behind her.
“SHHHHH!” Lamia shoved a middle finger in his direction, then, unable to help herself, she cast a dirty glare towards the dwarf. He was huddled in a doorway, peering down the hall at her. “You’re going to blow it - “
“No, that’s your job, ma’am.”
Lamia froze. The voice, cultured yet oily, had slipped into ear with such dangerous proximity that she could have sworn the speaker was standing right beside her. That was at least half true, too, because when Lamia turned back to the door a wide, heavy-chinned face had emerged from the bare circle of wood. She took a step back, suppressing a shriek of surprise by biting her lip.
“Oh, come now, don’t damage those!” The face smiled, winking lecherously. “I have such a wonderful idea for that mouth, and I wouldn’t like it bloody! That simply doesn’t work for me at all!”
Lamia’s surprise gave way to irritation within seconds. “Fuck me, a gatekeeper. Great.”
“I would, but I doubt your hips could reach that high, dear. Blame whomever made me.” The face chortled. “Yes, I’m the gatekeeper of the Cult of Gorgroan. And you, I think, are not a member of the cult. Would that be correct?”
Lamia swallowed. She hadn’t expected a gatekeeper. Gatekeepers were dangerous, because they were semi-sentient at a minimum, and could warn their masters. This one seemed at least as smart as most horny men she’d met while staying at taverns. “Maybe. Maybe not. How would you know?”
The gatekeeper licked his lips, and his polished wooden eyes leered down at Lamia’s breasts. “I’ve tasted every female member of this cult before. I know them pretty well. You were very different. Highly pleasing, but… distinct. The outfit is a dead giveaway, as well. You don’t belong here.”
“Oh.” Lamia grimaced. This fucker is linked to the doorway that got us to the elevator. No wonder. “You just suck women’s tits all day long, then, huh?”
“It’s better than asking them to present their membership card,” the gatekeeper replied dryly. “The Grand Warlock finds that the suckling primes his initiates for… relations, once they get inside. He does so love his relations. So, too, does the goddess, but I wouldn’t know much about that.”
“Thanks for the history lesson.” Lamia crossed her arms. “So? You going to sound the alarm, or something? Should we be running?”
“Best say ‘I’, dear,” the gatekeeper mused. “Your dwarf ran off a few moments ago.”
Lamia whipped around. Fidget was, indeed, gone, his stubby head vanished from the doorway. Lamia wanted to scream that he was fired, but she suspected that any cult members present would be behind the door, and she didn’t want to give herself away until she knew their leader was there was well.
“Good help is so hard to find, these days.” The gatekeeper’s grin grew. “Good help is so hard, as well. Eheh, that was awful, I'm sorry. It was barely clever.”
Eyebrow cocked, Lamia turned back to the gatekeeper - and found a long, bouncing penis protruding out of the door instead. It brushed against her cheek, excited, and she took a surprised step back. A tiny version of the gatekeeper’s face resolved on the tip, and despite her predicament Lamia almost laughed.
“I get to sample breasts all the time, yes, but no one ever has to pay this toll,” the gatekeeper whined, pouting. “I’m not allowed. But you, ah, you, you’re an intruder, aren’t you? So here is my deal: I’ll open this door, which leads directly to the Grand Warlock - don’t pretend, I know you’re here for him - if you give me a bit of love. Tit for tat, eh? Doesn’t that sound fair?”
Lamia pursed her lips. “You want me to blow a door. Do I have that right?”
“More or less,” the gatekeeper admitted.
Lamia shrugged. “I’ve done stranger things.”
The face vanished with a final, excited smile, and Lamia slinked forward. The cock tapped urgently at Lamia’s cheek, and with a quick roll of her eyes she guided it towards her lips, giving the tip a quick kiss. Raising a hand to the shaft, she slowly began to stroke the gatekeeper’s cock, planting a series of small, flicking licks on the head. Though made of wood the penis pulsed lightly, as pliable as any other cock she’d sucked, and a hint of cherry touched her taste buds.
Magic is weird, Lamia thought, pulling the cock into her mouth and swirling her tongue around the top of the shaft. Magic is very weird.
The gatekeeper did not speak again, but the entire door thrummed with delight as Lamia pressed herself against the wood, unclasping her bra for a second time that day and rubbing her tits against the smooth surface. She carefully traced her nipple along the curves of one of the runes carved on the door, and it seemed to grow warm at her touch, as though little hands were reaching out to fondle her flesh.
Lamia slid her tongue down the length of the cock, leaving a sinewy trail of saliva along the wood. As if in response to her implied suggestion a pair of testicles emerged from the wood panel, at the base of the cock, and she pressed her mouth against them, lips wrapping around the rough folds. She teased the gatekeeper with her tongue, then with a series of small moans, feeling the gatekeeper’s testicles contract joyfully at the puff of her hot breath.
“In my mouth or on my face?” Lamia asked mischievously, winking. She stroked the cock more vigorously, sucking on one ball, then the other, while she waited for an answer.
The gatekeeper’s member responded with decisive action. The shaft slipped out of Lamia’s grasp with surprising speed, disappearing alongside the balls into the door - but it reemerged almost immediately, the tip pointed directly at Lamia’s face. It popped past her lips and onto her tongue, so plump that it filled her mouth. It pistoned in and out, gliding smoothly, and Lamia began to suck.
Face-fucking, eh? Lamia shrugged, grinding against the door with renewed vigor. Fine. Whatever it takes, you bastard. Just hurry up.
The gatekeeper didn't hurry. For several long minutes the penis slid relentlessly in and out of Lamia's mouth, the tip tantalizingly close to the rear of her tongue with each thrust. Lamia caressed the bottom of the shaft, folding her tongue this way and that to massage the gatekeeper into release. Her right hand slid down her belly, and she moaned, fingering the top of her plated thong.
You'd think I'd be the one living in 'Nympho Peak', Lamia thought, one fingernail poised to push her underwear out of the way. Lords above. Suck off a door, of all things, and get hot and bothered. I don't remember being so demented when I was a kid -
Lamia’s thoughts were interrupted rather swiftly as the penis jackhammering her mouth pulsated. The door shuddered again, seeming almost to sag on its hinges, as a thick stream of sticky cum erupted onto Lamia’s tongue and down her throat. Her eyes flew open, but she held her place, drinking down the gatekeeper’s seed, moaning to help it along. This, too, tasted like cherry, though closer to syrup, and sweet enough almost to be nauseating.
The cock sagged in Lamia’s mouth, and she pulled away, yellow-white jizz dripping down her chin. She smiled and lapped the remains up with her tongue gratefully. “Ahhh… well, that was… mmm… was that good for - “
Again, Lamia didn’t finish her sentence. The penis vanished, and the door abruptly creaked upward, sliding noisily into the walls. Beyond it lay an enormous chamber, and within it stood a sea of black-clad, hooded figures, all of them now staring silently at her.
Lamia blinked. She took a quick look down at herself - cheeks flushed, breasts hanging loose, dribbles of errant cum snaking down towards her stomach, a faint wetness percolating in her nethers, though only she knew that - then peered back at the crowd.
“You might want to replace that gatekeeper,” she called out. “He’s kind of a jackass!”
~~~
Not quite how I pictured this, Lamia thought, testing her restraints. They were as solid as expected. But I’ll improvise.
The hooded cultists had wasted no time taking Lamia into custody, piling onto her with a vigor she usually expected from flophouse orgies. Pinning her arms behind her they’d forcefully stripped away the last of her clothes, dressed her in a gold-and-green bikini so small her nipples peeked out the top of the bra, and dragged her to a wide-set altar at the far end of the room. Now she was tied to a stone dais, arms bound tightly with steel cuffs.
“You know, I was wearing less before you gave me this outfit,” Lamia commented dryly, peering down her stomach towards her legs. “This thong doesn’t ride up the crotch quite so much. Can I keep it?”
“LAMIA REARADOORA!”
The voice gave Lamia pause, and she jerked her head around to stare towards the ceiling. A huge statue of a woman, carved from onyx and lit by emerald flames, loomed over her like the specter of the grim reaper. The woman looked beautiful, yes, but her face was also pinched and cruel, framed by twin waterfalls of flowing hair. The statue’s eyes seemed to bore into Lamia’s, and she blinked at it thoughtfully.
“You didn’t say anything, did you?” Lamia gave the statue’s figure as much of a once-over as she could manage. “You have an enormous rack. For your size, even! What’s your secr - “
The sudden crack of a slap rocked Lamia’s head to one side, and her vision blurred. Her eyes rolled freely in her head as she tried to gather her wits, pushing past the pain as best she could. She wished she had a spell for headaches - or, rather, a spell for headaches that she could cast without hand motions - because one was oncoming quickly. She groaned, and as her vision cleared a prominent, hooded man replaced the statue in Lamia’s line of sight. A golden circlet on his head pinched the hood in place.
“We have been expecting you, Ms. Rearadoora,” the man hissed. He was grinning beneath his cowl, Lamia could tell that much, but his features were largely obscured by darkness. “At last, the prophecy will be fulfilled. GORGROAN SHALL BE RESURRECTED!”
The Grand Warlock, for he could be nothing else, raised his arms in triumph. Hundreds of cultists surrounding the altar erupted in cheers and raucous prayers.
“Don’t tell me I’m part of another prophecy,” Lamia moaned. Her headache grew by a degree. “I hate those fucking things, always getting in the way. Look, guy, I’m just here to - “
“ - participate in the ritual! I’m aware, Ms. Rearadoora, I’m aware!” With a magnificent flourish of his robe, which, Lamia noticed, was much more voluminous and finely-embroidered than those of his followers, the Grand Warlock turned to the crowd. “It is thanks to your contribution that we will bring Gorgroan back unto this world! All shall tremble at her feet and despair!”
The cultists huzzahed. Throwing up his hands again for extra effect and earning more cheers, the Grand Warlock brushed himself up against Lamia as he circled the dais. He was hard, she could tell that immediately, but there was more bulk under his robe than she’d ever expected from a human, and she cocked an eyebrow at his crotch each time he came within view. The Grand Warlock seemed to enjoy this, and he paused by her head, rubbing himself against her cheek.
“Better watch yourself, I just got face-fucked by a door,” Lamia warned. “Haven’t had a chance to cast any spells warding off STDs. Do doors have STDs? Or would talking about that ruin your hard-on?”
The Grand Warlock stroked the hair out of Lamia’s face, running his fingers through the strands almost affectionately. “You have a big mouth, young lady. I will enjoy silencing you. Oh yes. Perhaps half as much as you will enjoy it.”
“I just gave someone a blowjob,” Lamia complained. “We went over this, didn’t we? Are you seriously going to - “
“LONG HAS THIS BEEN FORETOLD!” The Grand Warlock shouted, drowning out Lamia as he addressed the crowd again. “I have lain with ninety-nine women on thirty-three nights, and now, with this final, all-encompassing sacrifice to the greatest goddess of lust this world has ever known, I shall bring about the final days of this chaste era! Soon sex shall reign supreme once again, when at last the gem is unleashed and Gorgroan rises out of the ashes!”
More cheers. The Grand Warlock continued his rant, making bold promises of sexual revolution and the end of all laws of decency, but Lamia tuned him out. She was more interested by the bulge of his crotch, which seemed to be growing larger with every second. She’d heard that the guy was a bit out there, and that she would quite literally have her hands full, but…
“BEHOLD!” The Grand Warlock spun, and with a dramatic flourish he opened his robe to reveal a well-muscled chest and stomach, a dusting of grey hair, and a crotch bearing three large, almost tentacular penises, each seeming to stretch and contract in size at will. They twitched and roiled with excitement. “The time has come, o infamous of the infamous, o trickster of the bedsheets, o Lamia Rearadoora! You shall be the final sacrifice to our great goddess! You will pleasure me to my limit, and when the gem is revealed, Gorgroan will be resu - “
Lamia’s eyes boggled. “Wow! Three? Three dicks? Holy shit! I’ve heard of one, yeah, everybody has one, even a lot of women have one, and I know there are a few species of dogs and bears that have two, but three? Fuck, man, you must be a smash hit at parties!”
The crowd of cultists went silent. The Grand Warlock’s arms drooped. “You… you are ruining this austere moment. You are… you are the final sacrifice, harlot! Does that not… does that not…?”
“Not what?” Lamia grinned. “Fill me with fear? Shit no! Bring ‘em on! I can totally put ‘Had sex with a dude who has three cocks’ on my resume now! Believe it or not, that’s great for business! I assume, anyway! I'd hire me!”
“I…” The Grand Warlock sagged, though his penises writhed excitedly. “You’ve kinda… ruined… what should have been a cool moment. The rest of the women… were quiet… I mean, I haven’t even really explained how this works yet - “
Lamia considered a retort, but both she and the Grand Warlock were abruptly cut off as the statue above them creaked. Chips of onyx tumbled to the ground, and a massive hand swept across the chamber, planted itself behind the Grand Warlock, and pushed him so hard that he tumbled onto the altar. His three cocks slithered along Lamia’s skin, warm and hard yet weirdly pliable.
“I think your goddess wants you to get on with it,” Lamia commented slyly.
“Uh… uh...” The Warlock swallowed. Lamia could practically hear him blushing. “I… hrm… but… explanations...”
Staring into the Grand Warlock’s hood closely enough that she could see the surprise in his wizened eyes, Lamia smiled cheekily. She licked his cheek. “You can either explain why you have three cocks or show me how they work. Just saying now, though, I’m less interested in talk.”
So, apparently, was the Grand Warlock. With an expression that screamed ‘Fuck it’ he pulled his robe back, exposing a bald head and lined, strong features, and dove in for a salacious kiss. Lamia reciprocated, curling her tongue around his and drinking in his husky odor. The room erupted with cheers from the cultists as they kissed, and Lamia felt the Warlock’s three cocks tapping against her belly with frustrated impatience.
“I need… to fuck you…” the Grand Warlock breathed. “You… you smell good…”
“Magic incense,” Lamia whispered into his ear as he dug his face into her neck. She nibbled his earlobe playfully. “Put it on before I got here. Smells like a Parfum Dragon, I’m told. Drives men wild.”
“Ahh… ahh…” The Grand Warlock sucked on her neck, grinding himself into her crotch. “The others… they weren’t… so…”
“Eager?” Lamia arched up into the underside of the Warlock, feeling her scant bikini slip away as his hands fumbled near her ass. “Doing the math, it sounds like you had three women per session any time you did this before… I can do better than that.”
Twisting her hips, Lamia slid her glistening pussy along the underside of the Warlock’s cocks, savoring their bumpy texture as they writhed against her moist clit. Warlock and sorceress moaned, and Lamia felt her lips parting as one of the cocks flattened against her, sliding down, down, down, towards the warm wetness of her cunt. The tip paused there, testing her, tantalizing her, and she tried to push down to force it inside her.
“You fucking tease,” she breathed. “Do me.”
The Warlock nodded, already sweating from his brow, and with a wriggle and a push he slid himself inside Lamia. She rocked forward with a deep shout, half a scream, as his girth glided neatly into her pussy. He pumped her, slowly at first, then with increasing intensity as his excitement grew and grew. She worked her hips along with him, enjoying every thrust, eyes squeezed shut.
“Good… rhythm...” Lamia strained against her cuffs, breasts arched and bouncing with the thrusts. “Ahh… and they say… older guys… don't… cut it… mmmmm…!”
“I… I need…” The Warlock continued to rock her, almost unable to speak. Reaching to one side of the dais, he retrieved what looked like a small bottle with a shaky hand. “I need… to… the other…”
Understanding at once and moaning deeply as she smiled, Lamia arched her back, forcing the Warlock onto his knees as he fucked her. She motioned to the bottle, then down at her legs, and the Warlock, shuddering with pleasure as he pumped himself into her pussy, popped the bottle open. It took several careful motions to slather a second, expectant cock with globs of oil, and Lamia watched the Warlock stroke himself with one fluttering eye.
“Number… two,” she moaned, bracing herself. “Y… you know where it goes… baby…”
The Warlock did. Halting his forward motion as much as his hips would allow, he guided the slithering penis towards Lamia’s ass, pressing the tip against the pucker of her asshole with shuddering expectation. Lamia took a deep breath as the cock stiffened, like the point of a spear -
- and shrieked as it plunged into her, a mixture of pain and pleasure so indescribable that Lamia thought, if only for a second, that he’d split her in two. But he hadn’t, and as the second cock joined the first in its rhythmic thrusting the pain receded, leaving a dull ache - and sensation, pure, positive sensation. Lamia’s scream continued, long and piercing, her moans echoing off every corner of the chamber. She was dimly aware of other moans, of an orgy in progress among the cultists, but that was not here and that was not now.
Almost done, she thought, pushing as much business into her mind as her sex drive would allow. One more. After that, I don’t know, but… one more.
The Warlock’s face had flushed red. Sweat beaded down his chest in waterfalls, and he looked tired enough that he might have a heart attack and die on her. But he pushed on, pushed admirably, two of his three cocks driving in and out of Lamia with incredible intensity, so much intensity that her head swirled with raw, animal pleasure. She writhed and moaned against him - and then, out of pure instinct, grasped his third cock in her still-sticky fingers.
The statue above them creaked, almost warningly. The Warlock reached a hand out, as if to stop her. “W… wait… n… no… I… that one…”
Lamia smiled over the moans. “Got… one more… place… for… somethin’… like this…”
Lamia had seen enough of the Grand Warlock’s three cocks to know that they were supernaturally flexible, and, ignoring him, she pulled the third towards her. It stretched easily, twitching eagerly as it drew closer and closer to Lamia’s breasts, breasts now freed of their bra, to her chin, to her lips, to her dewy mouth.
“Yes…” she panted, breathing hard. Her tongue snaked eagerly along the tip. “Yes, yes… yes…”
“Yes…” the Warlock agreed, nodding as though it were the simplest thing in the world. “Oh… yes… take… in the mouth… you dirty… ah… dirty… girl…”
The statue above creaked again, a dull groan so low yet so loud that Lamia thought the whole roof might cave in on them, but she didn’t care. This was part of the plan, but she didn’t give a damn right now, she needed the whole fucking experience, and if this would give her both of the things she wanted, then, whatever! Let the roof cave in! Let the whole world smash down and fall apart, because, by the gods, she needed a fucking cock in her mouth!
The Warlock did not resist again. Ignoring the warnings of his goddess he pushed his final dick forward, sliding it between Lamia’s bouncing breasts and straight and into her open mouth. She sucked on it like a lollipop, urging it deeper and deeper, already tasting his precum on her tongue. It wasn’t cherry, no, but it was sweeter, because it was both natural and victorious. She suckled the head and pumped the shaft with her hands, using it to hold back her screams as the Warlock fucked her ass and her pussy. They rocked in tandem, he sputtering moan after moan, her aching with ecstasy.
This is the best threesome I’ve ever had, Lamia thought. There’s a joke in there somewhere.
The cock between Lamia’s breasts twitched, and the Warlock gasped, plunging him into stunned silence. Lamia urged the cock along, massaging it with her tits, pressing them together and using them to push the Warlock’s seed forward and upward, to spill it all over her, in her, to make it a part of her like he’d so desperately wanted since the moment he’d spotted her naked body. Lamia’s pleasure piqued -
“Suck… it… all…” the Warlock panted, the best he could do, and Lamia knew it was time. She braced herself. “Allll… aahhhhh - “
The Warlock exploded in Lamia’s mouth, and Lamia joined him, orgasms compounding upon orgasms to create a massive wave of passion, fatigue, and relief. Cum bubbled into Lamia’s mouth, pussy, and ass simultaneously, and as she added a renewed wave of lubrication to the mixture Lamia’s head spun. It was all she could do to avoid swallowing, because she couldn’t swallow, not like the gatekeeper, not this time.
Something hard slipped into Lamia’s mouth, and she caught it with her tongue. Jackpot.
The Warlock shrieked and fell back, cocks now half-limp and slipping out of Lamia, and he trembled so violently on his knees that he fell off of the dais. He hit the ground with a loud thud and a solid crack. He was, at the very least, out cold.
Struggling to rise after all that exertion, the desire to have a nap so strong that she slapped her cheek, Lamia emptied the cum from her mouth into her hand. Sitting in the midst of it was a glowing green gem the size of a marble. It vibrated lightly in her palm, and seemed to wink at her.
“That,” Lamia commented, to no one in particular, “must have been… a bitch… to push through… a dick...”
A finger tapped Lamia’s hand, and she peered to her right, eyes bleary after the rush of pleasure and hormones. Fidget was standing beside the dais, a lock pick clutched in one hand, eyes wide as he surveyed her naked body. He lingered over-long on the cum seeping down between her legs, and she smacked him.
“Fucker… you took long enough… thought you'd… really ditched me...” Lamia mumbled. Slipping the gem into her hair with a wince of disgust - it was still coated in creamy white cum - she wobbled her way off of the dais, unsteady on her feet. She weaved a quick spell of rejuvenation, but it didn’t do much. “I’m… going to have trouble walking… for a few days…”
“That’s okay,” Fidget said. “We have time to get out of here. Look.”
Already knowing what to expect, Lamia looked out at the crowd. Every single one of the cultists, man and woman and anything in-between, was fucking. Lamia assumed they were so overjoyed by the impending return of their goddess that they’d joined one another in an enormous orgy of excitement, which, she’d assumed by the carpets, happened pretty much any time something good happened to the Cult of Gorgroan. None of them seemed to give a damn about what was happening on the altar, or that their leader was unconscious on the ground.
Something cracked over Lamia’s head, and she looked up.
The statue of Gorgroan was, to Lamia’s horror, coming apart. The stone around the right arm shattered, revealing a flash of green, smoothed flesh beneath, and bits of the face flecked away to reveal a large, yellow eye. It glared down at Lamia, and the statue struggled to reach for her with its remaining arm. Lamia yelped and ducked beneath the altar, feeling the gemstone in her hair pulse as its sexual energies tried to release Gorgroan from her earthly prison.
Snatching the bra she’d discarded from the floor but unable to find the bottom, Lamia rolled to one side, pulled Fidget out of the way of falling debris, and pointed through the sea of flexing bodies. “Go! Now! C’mon! Mace fucking! Go!”
Fidget groped at one of Lamia’s bare breasts. She smacked him away, and they staggered through the crowd of fucking cultists as Gorgroan struggled to break free of the statue. None of the cultists tried to stop them -
- but the door slammed shut in their faces as they reached the end of the crowded hall.
“What the shit?” Lamia pounded on the wood angrily, arms still exhausted from her recent four-way. “Open up! We don’t have time for this!”
In response, a stiff, waggling penis slid out of the door and tapped Lamia on the cheek.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” she moaned.
~~~
They fled Nympho Peak without further incident. Dark clouds gathering on the horizon when they emerged from the elevator and into the sunlight might have worried Lamia, but she was too busy staring at the dripping gem in her hand to care about ill omens.
“Well,” Fidget said, slinging the pack back onto his shoulders, “that was… something.”
“Wasn’t it, though,” Lamia replied. She tried to straighten proudly, but her back, legs, and rear end were too sore to achieve anything beyond a haughty crouch. “I need a vacation for a few days. And I think this can pay for a vacation, and then some. This fucker will earn me money enough for a few years’ worth of riches.”
“You might also want new panties,” Fidget said. He pointed at the stream of cum dripping down Lamia’s legs. “Also… um… swaddling clothes, maybe…?”
Lamia rolled her eyes and started walking. “You think I came here without weaving a birth control charm? I did it before you woke up this morning. I don’t want to have a baby by some triple-cocked weirdo, y’know.”
“I guess.” Fidget followed, prodding at Lamia’s bare rear end. “You do need some panties, though. But there’s no rush. I’m, uh, I’m not bothered.”
“Fidget?”
“Yes?”
“You’re fucking fired.”
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