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Introduction:

This is a story written in the style of H. P. Lovecraft about a woman being captured and raped by monsters.

My name is John Dumonte, and I am a member of the Silver Fist. In fact, you might say, I AM the Silver Fist. The first, the founder, their leader, and the voice and right hand of the struggle. I have written this for you my brothers and sisters, for it is in your name that we fight, and I would have you know the truth.

There are some who would prefer that the truth be forgotten. I don't condemn them because I understand their fear is all too reasonable, though they wish it were madness. They believe there is no sense in hope, that the struggle cannot be won therefore we should simply forget about it and hope that calamity doesn't fall in our time. I don't need to point out the selfishness in this way of thinking.

As I said though I understand it. Our struggle is one against foes who cannot be killed, who know no fear or pain, creatures, for men they are not, that view us as little more than toys. But their arrogance my brothers... it will be the key to our victory, as great Achilles fell to a simple arrow so shall we exploit the weaknesses of our monstrous opponents and toss them back into the abyss from whence they came.

I will share with you a story of one of the victims of our foes. Through this you will know that their works are evil and must be stopped. Once you understand the depravity and evil that we fight you will, I believe, see that this is something which cannot be ignored.

Her name was Rebecca Dawson, and she was a beautiful girl. Spectacled, sophisticated, a child of high birth and esteemed in her community as both pious before the Lord and scholarly in the ways of society. If some found fault with Ms. Dawson it was in her confidence, her professional attitude, and her zeal for sport which some saw as unbecoming of a woman. She was a free spirit, traveling often and exploring New England as if it were some far off frontier, with herself as the bold Daniel Boone.

Tragedy stuck her with a suddenness as unexpected as it was complete and ruinous. On the first of May, 1932 Ms. Dawson decided to take a vacation into the coastal areas of New England, and chance upon some adventure to delight her mind. She was found by a group of picnickers on the beach with her garments torn, glasses broken, and skin bruised. She was taken to a nearby hotel where a physician tended to her. She did not receive the tender care due one who had suffered so badly though, because within a few days she was committed to Arkham Asylum, another raving lunatic unfit to walk in society.

I must say that the treatment inflicted upon her by men was as uncaring as what the beasts had done, but it was partly her own fault. When questioned about her injuries she descended into violent outburst, screaming about fish men and a great lord of monsters. Twice she attempted to slit her wrist, once she stuck out at the doctor tending to her. She could not be calmed and so she was passed into the hands of those whom it was thought knew best what to do with her.

For four months she rotted in a cell, the first month she had to be force fed because she had resolved to end her miserable existence through starvation. As with a Greek tragedy there was hope in the 4th act that she could be helped. One Doctor Waite was intrigued by her case. He spent uncounted hours with her, hoping to dispel her delusions, or at least shake her from the all consuming depression which threatened her life. A student of Freud, he believed that all inmate's psychosis ought to be helping them cope. In this case however Ms. Dawson's fantasy world was actually worse than anything he could have speculated may have happened to her. He drew up some details of the case and published them in the American Journal of Psychology. I am an avid follower of this publication, for our enemy shows his plans in the madness of men, and in their ravings I have come to learn more about them then they could possibly realize.

I arrived at the Asylum in September. I presented myself to the staff and to Doctor Waite under an assumed identity. I claimed that I was a researcher in rare forms of mental disorder, and that upon reading of the case I decided to come offer my assistance. This this was easy for me to pass off, before I began my struggle I was a magician. Acting came naturally to me. What's more, in a sense I AM a researcher into mental disorder. My tall stature, well-kept goatee, and knowledge of the field impressed. Doctor Waite seemed overjoyed after I had introduced myself. He told me that a fresh perspective was precisely what her case needed and that he would be more than willing to let me work with her. He invited me to his office where we sat and he told me everything he knew and much that he had guessed about Rebecca Dawson.

"It's fairly obvious to me," he began "that the poor girl was raped by a gang of men. The bruises on her body must have from ropes used to tie her down. What I don't understand is why she chooses to believe that she was raped by monsters, that the bruises were made by what she describes as elongated make genitalia, with such strength and mobility that they picked her up and tied her so brutally tight as to draw blood in some spots. This seems to me a much worse fate then just being assaulted by a few drunken men, wouldn't you agree?"

I considered the Doctor's words carefully. It was true what he said. No one would want to replace a painful reality with an earth-shattering horror. But as I already suspected, the woman was nether mad nor fanciful.

"Certainly," I replied "But perhaps at the time of the assault her mind was so damaged that to her the men seemed to be monsters, and that is the impression which has stayed with her. Let me ask you Doctor, how have you attempted to treat her?"

Dr Waite wrung his arms in an expression of frustration. For a moment he looked all of his sixty years, his gray beard and hair making him seem like Washington, wearied by the long winter in Valley Forge. "I have tried everything!" he lamented "Now normally with a patient like Dawson, who is still fairy new here, I wouldn't be so put out, after all healing the mind takes time, but this woman does not even begin to respond. It's like there is a brick wall between her and the very first step to any kind of recovery. I once got her to tell me the story, but since then she only sulks and ignores me, unless I prod her too much of course, in which case she flies into a rage or a fit of despair and screams her lungs out while trying to harm herself or others."

We discussed the specifics of her case for some time, at length he informed me that he had other matters to attend to and would have a nurse take me to Ms. Dawson, with the best of luck. I was led to the patients room where upon arriving I was greeted by a large guard with an annoyed expression on his face. He cautioned me against speaking with Ms. Dawson alone and offered to join me inside. I smiled at him and informed him that I would be quite safe. He gave me a dubious smile.

Ms. Dawson had once been a beautiful woman, and some of that remained, but the last four months of her life had clearly taken its toll. She was little more than skin and bones, her flesh a pale, sickly color. I greeted her with my most friendly bedside manner and sat myself on her bed beside her. I half expected some sign of fear, that she would shrink back from me into the corner, but she simply looked at me disinterestedly.

I began by beating thoroughly around the bush. I introduced myself and inquired how she was feeling (fine she replied), told her what a great caretaker she had in the form of Dr. Waite and other pointless exercises in conversation. I let about an hour pass without mentioning anything to do with her attack, but then I decided to take the plunge.

"Tell me Miss, have you ever heard the name Cthulhu?" This was met with a calm expression and a denial.

"There are a lot of people," I began "who say they hear from him in their dreams. Has this ever happened to you?" Her eyes widened at this, and I knew I'd hit on something, but the panic and anger didn't show. This confirmed to me that Cthulhu and his cults were not involved. I ran through a list of names, trying multiple pronunciations of some, and got nothing from her until, "And have you ever heard the name Dagon."

A shudder ran through her body and she wrapped her arms around herself, closing her eyes.

"I see. I'm sorry for what happened to you Miss, and I hate to make you relive it but I really need to know everything that you know. You see, in your encounter with this creature you may have learned something which could be incredibly valuable."

She looked at me distrustfully, the implications of what I had said sinking in. "Useful information..." she pandered "You don't think I'm crazy?"

"Do you think your crazy?" I said in all sincerity. She laughed and smiled at me. It was a hollow, frightful sound, but I tried not to show anything but a comforting, concerned face.

"That's what they tell me,” she said. I saw that Dr. Waite was right, trying to delve into the event to quickly would meet with a panic attack. Her breathing was becoming labored and her composing shaking from what we had already discussed. I decided to try an indirect route and draw her out.

"What have your sessions with Doctor Waite been like?" I asked.

She looked at the floor, rubbing her left arm with her hand. "He comes in and he tells me to explain why I was found... like I was... before I was brought here. I don't like talking about it. Every time I do he starts telling me how I'm crazy and that I need to focus on the real story... He makes me so angry," as she said this last her fist clinched and she furrowed her brows speaking low and staring at the chair across from us as if she wished the Doctor was there now so she could wring his neck.

I reached out and put my hand around her shoulder. She flinched and recoiled for a moment, then after staring at me for a moment she relaxed. I squeezed her shoulder and said, "Why do you want to kill yourself over it?"

Her anger seemed to drain out of her, whether from the intimate contact or the direction of the conversation I don't know.

Her voice cracked as she spoke, "I... I have been chosen by him."

This made my eyes go wide, because Old Ones do not pay special attention to humans. I had been surprised to learn a human had survived an encounter with one of them, but had simply assumed there had occurred a fortunate escape, which her next words proved was not the case.

"I'm to be the mother of his children."

I felt at that moment that it might be me having a fit of screaming. Could this woman truly be mad? What she said was impossible, my mind could not accept it.

She looked at me with concern now, seeing my expression of horror. "Are you okay?" she asked, putting her arm around my shoulder. I breathed deep and steadied myself. "I need to know what you know Ms. Dawson."

She backed off from me a bit, "Dr. Waite wrote down everything I told him, you can read his notes."

"No he didn't," I told her "Dr. Waite wrote, 'subject has paranoid delusions of being hunted, patient believes fish men assaulted her' Dr Waite doesn't know what I know, can't understand your experience. I can. I can offer you something real in exchange for your information."



She looked at me cautiously, "I think that you have more to tell me then I have to tell you Dumonte."

I nodded. "You’re right, and I want to tell you everything, but first I need to know what you know. I want you to tell me everything that happened to you, down to the smallest detail. If you do this, I can offer you protection."

The idea of hope, and someone who understood her story, had a great effect on Ms. Dawson. She lay back on the bed and I sat across from her. It was a long time before she first began, and she quickly stopped, unable to speak through the tears. Then she began again, and this is what she told me.

* * *

Ms. Dawson carried a large revolver which she had painted red with intricate designs. This was a touch to her personality that along with her zeal for hiking and indomitable will made her some kind of a vagrant in the eyes of some members of her community. But if she was a vagrant it was of the eccentric sort that somehow managed to follow the laws of society and irritate those she ought to show proper respect to.

She told me that her last moments of happiness in life were spent painting the sunset. She was out in the countryside, where she had been walking when she was struck by the radiance of the sky as the sun set and a blaze of colors lit the horizon. Once the sun was down she resolved to sleep there, and see what the sun looked like as it rose on the opposite side of the world.

She was awoken in the night by the sound of snapping twigs, at first she was not alarmed, because it was almost certainly some small animal passing her by, but thinking that she might encounter a bear, Ms. Dawson drew her revolver from her pack and crouched, waiting to see if anything should show itself.

And something did, it was a moment that would burn itself like a blazing hot iron into her mind. The creatures who stepped out of the shadows, seemingly out of nightmares and into this physical world, were not bears, nor were they any other animal modern science recognizes. They were gruesome, large things with human like form but were nothing like human. They had the appearance of reptiles, or fish, in their skin and claw like hands, large months and bulging eyes. A mockery of distortions danced upon their flesh and Rebecca stared at them in both amazement and horror.

She tells me that at first she had no intention of shooting at them. Their appearance excited her curiosity more than her fear and her first thought was to hide and watch them. but somehow, probably through scent, they already knew she was there, and they walked straight towards her.

She stepped back from them quickly, and the faster she moved the faster they came. She screamed at them to stop, and fired a warning shot, still unsure if killing such unknown beings was a good idea, but once the distance became very short, she aimed the barrel of her gun at the first one's chest and fired twice.

The things stopped and the target grabbed its chest, it made a pained breathing sound and withdrew its hands, the other stepped forward and together they examined the bullets that it held. At this moment Rebecca turned and ran at full sprint to the east. She told me she always noted the location of the last house she passed when she was in the country, you never know when you might need help.

I admired this woman. She would have made a perfect member of the Silver Fist. I almost wish, no I ardently DO wish, that I could have been there that night, just to see this struggle in the night. What terror, what exhilaration she must have felt. That night she ran at full sprint for a mile or more, chased through the darkness of the woods and fields with monsters on her heels, she kept her head, she did what had to be done for survival.

Her mistake was in thinking that the house would offer protection. When she reached it, she came through the door with the creatures hot on her heels and slammed it in her closest pursuer’s face. The bang as it hit the thing was followed by a crash as the monster was knocked on its back. She backed away from the door, panting loudly.

From the stairs she heard a woman's voice and turned to see a widower of age 40, dressed hurriedly in a nightgown. I inquired later with the police about any disturbances in the area on that night, when they told me there were none I went door to door and found the woman, she looked just like Rebecca Dawson's de***********ion, tall with long dark hair, eyes a dark silver and some of her age showing on her face, but not yet marring the beauty she possessed in youth. Her name was Catherine McNamara. When I asked her how her door frame had been damaged she went quiet and asked me to leave.

The women was shouting at Dawson, who ignored her, being fixed on the door. The first blow was not long in coming, the creatures hammering on it with an inhuman strength. Rebecca Dawson, as I have said, was a strong woman. While Catherine shouted at the door that she was going to call the police Rebecca drew her revolver, deciding to make a stand right there, live or die.

When the door caved in the widow shrieked and ran up the steps. Rebecca fired her three remaining shots, the first two placed perfectly on the first creature’s head. It fell back and the other jumped over it, rushing at her as she attempted to reload.

Her first scream of the night was when it grabbed her sides with its claws and threw her to the ground. The gun fell next to her head and the shells scattered on the floor. She raised her legs and tried to push it away, but its weight and strength outmatched her. She told me that she lost hope when she looked over the thing's shoulder and saw the other rise to its feet and shake it's head. Two bullets at less than 5 yards to the creature's skull had failed to stop it. Her strength gave out and claws gripped her shoulder. It pulled her to her feet and dragged her in front of the couch, forcing her to her knees and holding her there.



The beast looked up at the ceiling and both human and monster listened to the sound of struggle in the rooms above. Ms. Dawson said a silent prayer for herself and the stranger, sure that her only salvation from this house in the lonely countryside would be a spiritual one.

The widow Catherine was dragged down the steps sobbing and pleading, "Let me go... pleasssse... oh God no...." She was set up next to Rebecca in front of the couch, the two creatures holding them on their knees. Rebecca looked at her new companion, she told me she felt even more horrible when she saw the woman's tear-streaked face, because she realized she had just doomed that woman by bringing the monsters there.

The intentions of their assailants become horribly clear in the next moment.

The creature holding Catherine placed its right hand on the back of her head and pulled her face into its crotch. At first Rebecca, watching in horror, didn't understand what it was doing. The thing's genitals were not like those of a man. There was no visible scrotum or shaft... at first. The thing rubbed Catherine's face around its smooth skin and then they both saw the horizontal slit opening, out of a pouch like orifice the creature's shaft began to emerge, which caused Catherine to stop her sobs and began to scream anew.

Its penis was dripping with a clear fluid, which seemed to ooze from pores instead of flow from the tip. In shape it was somewhat dissimilar from a man's. Instead of a mushroom like head followed by a smooth shaft it ended in a point and the whole of it was not smooth but seemed very lumpy, like a sock filled with balls of various sizes.

It pressed the tip of its fish man cock against Catherine's mouth. The frightened woman whimpered and tried to turn her head, but the beast held it steady. It forced itself between her lips and found her teeth clinched, the cock slid between her right cheek and her teeth. Caught in a tight pocket the beast began to thrust, making its victim's cheek puff out with every in stroke.

This must have caused Catherine some pain as the member was too large for the small space. As she squealed, she opened her mouth and the thing immediately pushed its bloated organ across her soft tongue and into her throat, which brought on a fit of gagging.

Rebecca was staring transfixed at the disgusting thing fucking the poor woman's innocent mouth when she felt the hand grasp the top of her head and turn her face to face with the crotch of the monster holding her. The tip of its dick was peeking out of the pouch and Rebecca was pushed towards it. She closed her eyes and shut her mouth as it rubbed her face on the strange sex organ. Rebecca felt like she would be sick as the slimy substance coating its growing erection seeped between her lips and smeared her cheeks.

The thought of her cheeks brought to mind what was happening to the widow and Rebecca decided to try a different form of resistance, so she opened her mouth and swallowed the things cock as deep as she could. The creature made a strange raspy noise which might be pleasure just before Rebecca bit down as hard as she could. She chewed the member and jerked her head from side to side pulling on it. The creature went still, and Rebecca opened her eyes to look up at its face.

The thing showed no sign of pain, in fact if its unnatural face could be read her interpretation could only be that it had an expression of curiosity. Rebecca's brief moment of hope that she might at least be killed without being subjected to this inhuman attack on her dignity was tossed aside. She felt her own tears began to start then as the thing started humping her face.

Both women were silently crying in front of the couch, held there on their knees by beast as the sounds of wet slurps, gagging, and sometimes flesh slapping their faces filled the room. Side by side the strangers were violated in the same manner and Rebecca tried to disconnect herself from her body. She knew now that the things were fairly intelligent, for their attack had been so synchronized. The way the one waited for the other to get back signified a partnership and plan of action. Further, the creatures oral ravaging was actually much less beastly than Rebecca might have expected. The creatures strokes were steady and for the most part they did not plunge their tools in to the point of gagging on purpose.

Rebecca looked at Catherine and saw the slime was running out her mouth and down her neck. The creature feeding her its cock began to pant heavily. Rebecca saw the shock in the widow's face as the thing let out a shriek and began to cum. A thick white fluid leaked from the sides of Catherine's mouth as she began gagging and struggling, but the beast held her firmly in place as it slowly pressed its full length into Catherine's throat, spraying its cum straight down her gullet. In a moment it pulled out and the women gasp for air, failing to the ground as her captor released its grip and stepped back.

The dick in Rebecca's own mouth stopped moving and her assailant watched the widow began to cough and roll around on the floor, screaming. The woman crawled into a nearby corner, her hand going to her face, wiping the cum off her chin as she spat and coughed. Rebecca and both the creatures were staring at her as she began to wretch. Her chest heaved and she gasped for air, then vomited and passed out in the puddle of cum she had thrown up.

The thing that had deposited that load in her shook it's head, in their most human expression yet, and its shoulders slumped. Terror and a strange curiosity mixed in Rebecca as her lips began to once more service the monster raping her mouth. As the flow of ooze from its cock increased she knew it was close to feeding her it's seed. What would they make of her reaction? Why did they seem disappointed by what the widow had done? Surely, they could expect little other reaction!

She felt the slime running down her neck and between her breast, sweaty and heaving with her frantic breaths. This taste in her mouth was like nothing she could place outside of the hint of salt. A pulse ran through the organ and its bumpy surface stretched her lips wide, thrusting in and out faster now, twitching and quivering in a disgusting manner. Rebecca closed her eyes as the thing began to pour cum into her mouth. She made no attempt to swallow and let it run around the corners of her mouth. Too late she realized that was what the widow had done, and the sight of its seed spilling over prompted the thing to force her head all the way down it's cock, pushing past her tongue into her throat.

She struggled and beat its legs as she felt the fluid pump down the back of her throat and into her stomach. She was horrified at how much there was, it was like gulping down a liter of rancid milk. Finally, though the flow trickled off and the creature slowly withdrew from her mouth. She coughed and curled into a ball, waiting to throw up and be granted a merciful sleep like the widow.

The monsters stood over her and watched intently. She sobbed for several moments before they began to dance about the room, slapping their hands together and howling in joy. Rebecca, naturally bewildered, sat up and watched them. They calmed down after knocking over a good bit of furniture and seemed to converse in raspy voices, though it hardly sounded like words. Then the one who had forced himself on her reached for her and with surprising gentleness (but also a strength that brooked no argument) picked her up in its arms.

She was carried off into the night on a strange trip during which she lay in the arms of a beast and dozed like a child, for though she was terrified she was also exhausted. She passed into sleep and woke up several times. She had no clue how long they walked or in what direction, but by dark paths under the luminous moon they came to a cave. The tunnels they walked went through so many twists and turns that Rebecca knew she could never find her way through them and despair rose in her again, for while she had realized they weren't going to kill her she now realized she would never escape them.

She was taken at last to a cage, deep underground. The creatures placed her in a large cage deep in the cave, nearby she could smell and hear the sounds of the ocean coming up through the rocks somewhere close. The walls were lit by torches which burned a pale blue and never seemed to burn out. She wasn't alone in the dark prison, amid a collection of blankets were huddled 3 other women.

An oriental woman spoke for them, she was an English Chinese translator, and had experienced a similar rape, being forced by the things, which I was now convinced must have been Deep Ones, to drink their semen. Her name was Mei Wu and she had been here before any of the others, waiting in the cage for close to two weeks, as far as she could tell. The Deep Ones are a strange race of servants to the Old Ones, and I believe to Dagon in particular. At the time Ms. Dawson was relating this to me I had not fully realized what they were. The others were an African and Russian, both of whom knew no English or Chinese, cutting them mostly out of the conversation.

Together they sat miserably in the dark wet cavern and eventually slept. During the night Rebecca dreamed of strange things and places, in particular she recalled wandering through a deserted city hand in hand with a Deep One. They made their way through curved and jagged streets to the center, above which stood a great monolith. The Deep One entered and she waited, looking up at a sky whose stars were swirling unnaturally. Then the Deep One emerged and wheeled a baby carriage up to her.

She laughed at the ridiculous sight of the creature and it's pink, princess themed carriage, then turned to walk away. As she did, she saw behind her the massive form of a creature whose name appeared in her mind unsought for.

Dagon.

She woke with a start and felt a comforting hand on her shoulder. It was a man, dressed in black robes, his face covered with tattoos of some unknown writing.

"The master is quite pleased with you Ms. Dawson, everything is being prepared for you to be joined with him."

Rebecca narrowed her eyes at him, "How do you know my name?"

"The lord Dagon has spoken with me of you as I slept, just as he spoke with you, though you probably only remember a little of it. It is a great honor he is to give you! To bear his daughter! I must admit, I envy you."

The man's face took on a wild expression of wonder when speaking of this, and Dawson saw madness in his eyes. Worse, she imagined the horrors that awaited her at the hands of some monstrous fiend. She was led by the man out of the cage and into a room which had been painstakingly carved from the rock itself. This room was better lit, and furnished with a bed and nightstand, as well as a large dresser. A Deep One was straightening the bed as they came in, and it bowed to her as it left.

She was left in the room, and food brought to her. At first, she sat on the bed trembling in fear at the madness she had fallen into, but her stomach growled, and hunger would not be denied. She ate a meal of fish and some unknown vegetable that may have been seaweed (a very well prepared and tasty seaweed) and lay on the bed, not bothering with the clothes or makeup that had been left there obviously for her.

A Deep One guarded the door, she approached it after a time and found it seemed to show her respect, even reverence, but would not let her take more than a few steps from the door. In time the man, who she could see was some sort of priest, returned and ordered her to follow him. They walked to a cavern in which there was a great pool, the surface lapped at the rock with small waves and smelled of the ocean. Rebecca's breath caught in her throat as she saw the dark-skinned African woman being carried away, she had obviously been brutalized and Rebecca saw blood running down her legs.

The Chinese woman was tied to a post nude, her arms behind her back. Sweat made her skin shine in the flickering light of the torches. She looked at Rebecca with fear and mumbled something in her native tongue. Another post, with chains hanging down to either side, was Rebecca's destination. Her hands were cuffed, and she shook with terror. Around her feet the priest began to draw on the floor with a purple chalk. He drew stars and strange symbols around her feet, some may have been constellations, others were letters and hieroglyphics of a language lost for aeons.

Rebecca heard the Chinese woman scream and after looking at her and seeing her gaze she looked to the water. Its surface bubbled and then several long tentacles emerged from beneath the waters. Each one was unique. The largest was very smooth and had a rounded off end with a small hole. Another was just like the cock she'd been forced to drink from before, all bumps and a pointy end. Two had cups on the end, the inside of which bristled with hairs. Lastly, she saw one that ended in a head just like that of an uncircumcised human male.

The strange appendages approached Ms. Wu without hesitation. Rebecca saw that not only was ocean water dripping off them, but they oozed a clear fluid much like the Deep One's had, coming out through the pores and running down the long shafts.

The first to reach the struggling oriental woman were the cupped pair. One planted itself on her neck, another her leg. She screamed even louder at their touch and as they began to trail around her skin. Rebecca saw that they left a trail of red in their wake as they sucked on the skin. In a moment they pulled back, and then reattached themselves. Mei Wu quit screaming and panted for breath, the hickeys left by the sucking tentacles were not as deep now, they had apparently eased up.

The pointed, bumpy cock hovered inches from Ms. Wu's face, and she looked at it with an unhappy resignation. She opened her mouth and held out her tongue as if in invitation to get it over with. The tentacle came forward, but it didn't take to her waiting throat right away. It rubbed itself around her face, leaking ooze onto her cheeks. It pulled away and slapped her face. She sobbed as the thing flailed about smacking her cheeks and rubbing around her face. Finally though it pushed between her lips. Rebecca saw that her cheeks hollowed, and occasionally her mouth opened and her tongue could be seen working on the thing's tip.

Rebecca figured it was logical to try and make the monster cum so it could end, but doubted she could bring herself to actively participate in the sick violation of her own body.

Meanwhile the suction cups had found the woman's breast. One attached to her left nipple, and pulled and shook her whole breast as it wiggled in the air. The other worked the soft globe, leaving marks all over the flesh of her heaving bosom.

The tentacle with the human like penis slid up behind Wu and then slid up her behind. The woman grunted loudly with her mouth full of cock. Her unprotected ass cheeks parted as the well lubricated member penetrated her anus and forced itself deep into her rectum. Rebecca couldn't tell how much of the thing pushed into her, but was sure it was a painful amount. Her whole body began to bounce as it started to brutally fuck her asshole.

Then the largest appendage, smooth with a blunt rounded end, moved before her. Ms. Wu's complacence ended when she saw how thick the thing was. It was at least as thick as a baseball bat, probably more so. She kicked at it and closed her legs. In response the cock in her mouth pulled out and wrapped around her neck. She choked as it squeezed and lifted her into the air. The rape of her ass continued as she suffocated and did not even stop when she passed out.

The tentacles pulled her limp body from the post and lay her on the ground, Rebecca saw her chest began to rise and fall again, though she remained unconscious as the large tentacle spread her legs and began to rub its slimy end all over her pussy. She woman let out a moan and open her eyes just as the thing forced its massive girth against her delicate cunt.

Her scream was cut off as her mouth was again plugged by monster dick. Her body thrashed about on the ground as it was fucked in her three holes, the sound of her ass slapping the cave floor echoed off the walls. This was all watched intently by a crowd of Deep Ones, along with the priest and Rebecca.

Rebecca's stomach churned as she watched. She knew she was getting a front row seat to what she was about to experience. The priest approached her and held up a large book, bound in leather and worn. He read from its pages in some tongue unknown to Ms. Dawson, and as he did so she witnessed the latest impossible event. At her feet the chalk which he had drawn on the ground began to glow a vibrant purple, and heat seemed to come up from the floor at her feet.

Her attention was drawn back to Ms. Wu as she saw the tentacle in the woman’s mouth pull out and spray its copious amount of cum onto her face and into her open lips. The tentacle in her ass also pulled out, a trail of cum pouring out from between the smooth globes of her ass. These tentacles wrapped around her arms and turned her onto her stomach. Her ass lifted into the air as the large member continued to pump into her stretched tunnel.

One of the suction cups moved under her body and it planted itself firmly onto Ms. Wu's clit. She yelped in surprise and raised herself up on her arms, arching her back. Mei's grunts became mixed with gasps and groans, then she began moaning in obvious pleasure.

Rebecca told me she looked at the woman with a scornful expression, thinking that she was some kind of depraved whore. When their eyes met just as Mei became to cum she saw an expression of shame cloud her face and Rebecca then felt ashamed of herself. The oriental woman dropped her head to her floor and panted as the thing pulled from her sore cunt and let fly a spray of cum with the force of a fire hose. It splashed on her back and coated her ass, running down the sides of her tits to puddle on the floor. She collapsed then in the pool of cum and buried her head in her hands.

The priest spoke from a few feet away. "Dagon has mastered the art of lovemaking with humans!" he exclaimed "Your very lucky Rebecca. The first dozen attempts my master could not get a handle on how fragile we humans are. He was wise though to save his favorite pick for last."

The tentacles withdrew from the chamber into the water and the man read from the book, as he did Rebecca said her vision began to swim, and she had strange visions. When he was done, she felt as if she were watching herself from the water, through otherworldly senses. She was still clothed as she had been before the whole ordeal had started, though her clothes were just as dirty and unkempt as her hair. She felt she could see every tiny detail of the scene perfectly, and also see things like heat and scent drifting through the air.

"What have you done to me?" she choked out.

The priest smiled, "I have only helped Dagon, the magic comes from him. Think of me as the pastor, I have just wed you to my lord."

Rebecca shook her head, "That's crazy! How can I be wed to this freak of nature!"

The priest sighed, "Relax Ms. Dagon, or perhaps I should call you Queen Rebecca?" The man laughed hysterically, as if this were a clever joke.

Rebecca looked up at the ceiling and saw that the chains had not been treated kindly by the years in this damp, salty chamber. She turned her body around and pushed with her feet against the post. Both chains snapped and she fell back, grunting as she hit the ground, The Deep Ones looked at one another, unsure what to do with their captive now that she was also the wife of their lord. The priest laughed again as though amused, but was suddenly stifled when Rebecca swung her left arm in an arc, slapping him in the face with the dangling chain. She rushed the stunned man and jumped on his back, wrapping the chain around his neck. They fell to the ground and Rebecca screamed in rage as she tried to wring the life from the demented priest.

Suddenly she felt herself choked though. She was pulled off the gasping form of her enemy as a penis tentacle swirled snakelike around her arm. It moved under her shirt quickly. She screamed as she looked down and saw a dozen or more such tentacles moving around her, one took hold of each of her limbs, squeezing her tightly, more squirmed around her breast, rubbed themselves along her crack, even seemed to tickle her armpits.

The priest stood and spoke to the Deep Ones, "We should go my brothers, and let these two love birds be alone." At this the congregation filed out of the room, leaving Rebecca and her husband to consummate the marriage.

Rebecca was drawn to the water and for a moment thought she'd be pulled under, but the thing lay her by the edge of the pool. The two suction cups attached themselves to either side of her neck and she felt a sensation of pure pleasure as they worked on her. She knew now why the oriental woman had begun to enjoy the assault. The suction cups wet her skin and produced feelings she had never experienced before as Dagon tested the range of her senses. They moved all about her body, the intensity of their action rising sometimes to make her yelp, but then quickly retreating back into comfortable or at least bearable ranges.

She was pulled up into a sitting position and saw the pointy tentacle waiting before her face. She stared at it as the mass of tentacles under her clothes worked on her body. Then she felt a command, no words, to suck it. She shook her head no.

"I won't.. ah... fuck you..."

The command came again. Like an urge inside her, but one put there from outside. She screamed at it.

"FUCK YOU I'M NOT YOUR BRIDE!!!"

Her will lasted her for what seemed like hours she told me, but was sure it could not have been more than thirty minutes, not that this was a short time to fight the torture she describes. Her suction cups did much more to her then suck. They left lines of clear fluid that set skin aflame with needs and feelings no human should have. Towards the end her hips humped the empty air, longing to be filled with cock.

She sobbed as she leaned forward and began to kiss the slimy thing. She licked up and down the first foot of its length, she bit it lightly and tongued the hole, which rewarded her by oozing profusely and moving forward, letting her wrap her lips around it. She felt she would vomit as her mind argued with itself. Some part of her saw her mind slipping and begged her head to stop bobbing on the sickening pole. As she swallowed mouth fulls of the goop flowing into her mouth though that voice grew smaller and smaller till her body became a willing toy for Dagon.

She barely felt her clothes being removed as her whole world focused on pleasing her lord. The large tentacle was rubbing itself against her crotch, and she dimly remembered a time she had been with a man who was not nearly as big as that thing and how he had hurt her, but her mind lost any idea of why that mattered as a suction tentacle found her clit and played with it while the large tentacle slid between her ass cheeks, parting them and covering her anus in its ooze.

Without warning the tentacle in her mouth began to ejaculate. She swallowed every drop of this, the flow seeming to go slow just for this purpose. It slid out of her mouth and she gave it a quick kiss on the tip, licking up a drop still hanging there, before it moved away.

"Oh Dagon..." she whispered, "Take me my lord."

The large tentacle pressed against her anus. She shook her head.

"Not there my lord please, I want you to give me your child."

She felt Dagon assure her that he would, and she looked down to see another large member press against her wet sex. She grunted as both oversized members began to press into her, going nowhere at first.

"Ah, DAGON!" Rebecca tried to get to her feet to run as the pain broke through the haze her mind was in, but smaller tentacles grabbed her legs and opened them wide. She screamed and struggled, rolling around on the floor until her head hit the wall.

She stood and tried to climb the wall, seeing some light far above, but such effort was desperate and hopeless. The tentacles pulled her back down and pressed her against the wall. She screamed as first her vaginal and then her anal orifices could no longer resist the intrusion, opening painfully wide as she was penetrated.

She screamed herself horse in the next few minutes. Two huge wiggling tentacles jutted from her privates as she leaned against the wall crying. They slammed her forward, her tits bruising as they beat on the rough rock. Dagon fucked her against the wall with all his experience gained from breaking human women. He knew just how much pain she could take without passing out, and slowed down when he sensed her losing her grip on consciousness. He hurt her in the most agonizing ways he could without damaging her body.

She felt her juices squirting onto her inner thighs each time the cock in her pussy shot deeper from a long out stroke. The thing tearing her ass apart was so large her buns were pressed tightly on either side of it and she felt them wiggle in time with the fucking her ass was getting. At times they synchronized themselves and drove into her depths as one, then they changed speeds and her body would shake and juggle against the wall as they beat into her at different rhythms.

Then she began to sense other feelings. She passed out for a moment, not from the pain but from an orgasm that seemed to come from both herself and experienced through her link with Dagon. She could feel him penetrating her as though her asshole was spasming around her own cock, could taste her own juices on his suction cups. She felt like it was her own tentacles and she was raping herself, though she had no control over them.

She realized that through the link Dagon could feel her pain as well. This was not simple torture, but some kind of bizarre sadomasochist pairing in which Dagon experienced pleasure and pain through the eyes of a human.

Rebecca turned herself around and was pulled off her feet onto her back, legs lifted in the air. She watched her stretched pussy being pounded as the human like tentacle made a figure 8 on her breast, squeezing them tightly. The suction cups placed themselves onto her nipples and began to suck hard. She lay gasping, her body growing weary as she tried to catch her breath. She came repeatedly until at last she felt herself being filled with cum. It poured out of her vagina and ran down her chest, passing between her tits. She lapped at it greedily when it was close enough to her mouth. It leaked from her stuff anus also, spilling over her quivering ass cheeks.

The tentacles all withdrew except for the largest that had taken her vaginally. It pressed up to her face and she took it into her hands, kissing the tip affectionately, shoving her tongue into the large hole like a passionate French kiss.

A Deep One returned later and picked her up, taking her exhausted form back to her room. The oriental woman, Ms. Wu, lay in the bed. Rebecca was placed next to her, and Wu turned toward her. Rebecca thought about how she had thought the woman a freak for cumming from her assault. The woman looked shamefully at her now, as if she'd been caught doing something dirty. Had Mei seen the bridal chamber performance put on by Rebecca of course she'd have been taken aback.

They got under the covers together and held each other, crying in the night. When morning came the priest entered the room and inspected the two women. He frowned and went away. Two more days passed, both women were fed well and left alone, the oriental woman put on some clothes from the dresser, but Rebecca choose to remain nude, perhaps just wishing to be as miserable as possible.

In their dreams they spoke with Dagon, but Ms. Dawson wouldn't speak of the dreams on these nights. Considering the horrors she had already related to me these dreams must have been truly grotesque.

On the third day both girls were taken back to the chamber where Dagon took them again in much the same manner as I have already related. After that the priest came and examined them closely. Looking rather disappointed he announced that Dagon had failed to impregnate either of them, both naturally and with the help of spells on Ms. Dawson.

Rebecca couldn't believe her ears when he told them that she would be set free. Ms. Wu got news that was shocking for another reason, she would stay and be a breeding mother for Deep Ones. She cried and screamed as two of the beasts came in the room and right there began their first attempt at impregnating her.

She had been dressed in a fairly modest and beautiful gown. She had applied make up and bathed perhaps trying to forget about how soiled she had been. She was a vision of a life in the far east where comfort and beauty waited, but in that dungeon the brutes held no respect for her modesty or even her sanity. They tore her clothes to shreds, exposing the flesh of her round ass to them. They pushed her over the bed into Rebecca's startled lap. Mei looked at Rebecca with pleading eyes, but there was nothing she could do. One of them pulled aside her red panties while the other lined up his cock with her pussy.

Rebecca wrapped her arms around her companion as the thing began to pound her cunt. Its claws dug into her ass and she clinched at the bedsheets. Her face fell into Rebecca's naked bosom and Rebecca felt her breath on her tits. There was a stirring in her loins and she felt Dagon watching the scene through her eyes. His corrupt thoughts twisted her own and she reached out and took hold of Mei's hair.

"AHH!" Mei yelped as Rebecca cruelly pulled her hair back, "What are you doing? NO!"

Rebecca shoved the woman's head to her right breast and ordered her to lick.

"Please, why are you doing this to me..." Rebecca saw the hurt in the woman's eyes brought on by this betrayal. The one sane person she'd been able to speak to the last few days was now abusing her like the monsters. Rebecca felt disgusted with herself but couldn't stop the horrible urges washing over her.

She twisted her victim's hair in her hands until she gave in and started to nurse on her breast. Rebecca sighed and ran her fingers through the crying woman's hair. As her arousal grew she forced Mei's head lower, until she was rubbing her pussy on Mei's face. Mei tongued her slit as her face was pressed into another woman's wetness by the fucking she was getting from the Deep One, whose name at that moment seemed quite literal.

The Deep One lasted a long time. By the time he pulled his shrinking meat from Mei, Rebecca had flipped her over and sat on her face, riding her to several orgasms and even turning around to force Mei's head between her ass cheeks and make her eat out the queen of the Deep Ones asshole.

Ms. Wu was being leaned over the nightstand with the second creature beginning his turn at her cunt as Ms. Dawson was led away, Mei's panties were torn off completely as the Deep One started fucking her from behind. Rebecca had now come to her senses and looked at the scene in horror, she covered her ears to block out the screams.

* * *

In Arkham Asylum I sat across from this woman, my mind racing to comprehend everything she had just told me. There was a tape recorder in my pocket, and I knew I'd be going over this dozens of times, mining it for information on my enemy. I stood up, full of nervous energy and began to pace and speculate.

"Dagon..." I muttered, "Dagon does not slumber... and he spends his time taking women from around the world... only women who can drink the seed of Deep Ones. Being able to drink their awful sperm must be an indicator that a women can handle his. And then he chooses his favorites to try and impregnate, using those he doesn't like to practice on..."

It was crazy sounding. It was a mad, ridiculous story and I didn't have any idea what Dagon meant to gain by some strange program to birth a human child. It was then that I realized, the fact that his plan made no sense to me made that plan a sensible one for an Old One to have. I believed every word of Rebecca's story.

"Do you still hear him in your dreams?" I asked.

She nodded, "Every night. He tells me... he can't wait to see me again, that if he corrects the magic he will send someone for me."

I looked at her grimly, "That's why you want to kill yourself then?"

She nodded.

I pulled out a piece of chalk and began to draw on the floor. Rebecca sat up in bed and stared at me.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"I'm going to make a portal and get us out of here."

Rebecca watched me perform the ritual and summon the portal. For two weeks she stayed with me, I taught her of the struggle, our fight against the Old Ones, to protect humanity. At first, I thought I had a fine new recruit. I believed that in time I could teach her to block out Dagon, but then one day I found her sneaking out in the night.

"Where are you going?" I demanded.

She looked at me sadly, "I have to go. As long as I'm here you’re in danger, Dagon can always find me, we are linked."

"If you do go, he WILL find you." I told her.

She nodded, "I've been thinking about that. If he doesn't have me he will find a replacement, he will have his Deep Ones rape who knows how many women to bring him dozens of candidates, they will all suffer in my place."

I frowned, "You can't change that."

She shook her head, "Yes I can, I can go back to him."

I admired her. She was ready to walk into hell to protect myself and others. She was a rare person. Dagon had searched the world for an extraordinary human to be his bride, and I must say this for Dagon, he knows how to pick um.

It was with a heavy heart that I walked up to her as if to say goodbye, and drew my pistol. I could not let her return to Dagon. Whatever his motives, I must foil them. If some must suffer then so be it, for my charge is to protect not a few dozen or a few hundred, but the world of man itself. Her death was painless, a clean shot to the head.

I buried her in a shallow grave in the woods, but I marked it with a cross and said a prayer to ease my own troubled conscious. A few days later I had the dream.

A Deep One was walking through a torchlit corridor carrying a tray of cooked fish and oysters. His webbed feet patted the damp rock as he hurried to bring the meal to his mistress. I saw her in a beautiful room, sitting in a chair before a nightstand. On her head was a crown of reef, sparkling in the torchlight. Beside her a Chinese woman sat on the floor rubbing Rebecca's feet.

She was several months pregnant.

On Rebecca's forehead there was a round scar.

I tried to tell myself that this was just a dream, but I know that Dagon sent it to me to taunt me, because the next day I went and dug up Rebecca's grave, only to find it empty.

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