The Highwayman and the Indigo Realm

Chapter 1

by societyslave

Tags: #cw:noncon #cosmic_horror #fantasy #lovecraftian #tentacles

Shadows swayed and writhed across the walls of the crypt, where seven cultists clad all in black stood in a circle. They murmured blasphemies in an alien tongue. Though they had carried torches to get there, the only illumination they now required was the pale, pulsing indigo light that hovered near the ceiling. In unison they uttered words in a language unspeakable by human tongue.

Their words would drive mortals to sensual, incoherent madness if heard for too long. The cultists had once been mortal, had once been men. Now they were something more… or, perhaps, something less.

Ancient ossuaries and bony remains draped in dusty spiderwebs lay in alcoves along the walls. A stone sarcophagus sat on a dais in the center of the room. Its lid was engraved with the image of an armored knight; perhaps some ancient champion of the realm, his name long forgotten, just as this crypt, lost in the catacombs far below the Free City of Elgeist, had been long forgotten.

A young woman knelt atop the sarcophagus, directly beneath the indigo light. Her trembling thighs were splayed wide. Her hands moved between them, circling clit and teasing cunt, pleasuring herself as she stared, thoughtlessly, into the purplish glow above her.

Her breasts were proud and swollen, and glistening with sweat; her honey-blonde hair clung to the small of her back. She had been brought here against her will, though she no longer remembered being captured. She had no memory of the time she had spent in those dark halls of the dead, first shackled by chains as the cultists drug her through the catacombs, and then shackled by the whispers that called to her from the place beyond the glow.

As the chanting of the cultists rose, so did the pleasure coursing through her body. Their prayers pulled her further, and faster, into madness. Over and over she worked herself toward orgasm, and yet every time she reached a peak, she found no release; rather, a new height beckoned her further, her unfulfilled pleasures stacking atop one another, building toward some terrible, inhuman ecstasy.

Each orgasm denied strengthened the shackles binding her to that ecstasy. And every pleasure that crested within her, but did not come crashing down, opened the gate to the Indigo Realm a little wider.

She did not know how long she had been there. She had no recollection of the life she had led before this moment. She knew only that she was a sacrifice, and that she wanted to be sacrificed.

For the promise of the Indigo Realm was all that mattered to her now. Alien voices slithered across the surface of her mind, burrowing deep within her thoughts, promising her pleasures so intense they could not exist in her reality. Once she entered the Realm she would be eternal, forever luxuriating in slick, writhing, suckling infinities, her body cradled in sensations so erotic they would shatter her mortal mind.

All she had to do was open the gate wider, so she could enter their reality… and so the things that dwelt in the Indigo Realm could enter hers.

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