Earth Goddess' Nectar: The Complete Novella: (Paranormal Fantasy Erotica) (4 page)

“Andy, I am so sorry for your loss. Your mother was an incredible woman, and you share her sweet nature. If it wasn’t for her, my children would be lost.” Her voice was as soft and intimate as a mother’s to her frightened son, a far cry from her earlier booming declarations.

Andrew nodded absently, his entire body still shuddering from the milk bath. He lifted a hand and cupped Eshabaar’s overhanging breast.

“Where is your brother?” She gazed at him intently, her white eyes searching Andrew’s face. His mother told him that the earth mother could read your thoughts, so it was preferable never to lie to her.

“I don’t know, probably stoned out of his head somewhere, whaling on some poor girl…” His voice drifted away, his tongue heavy in his head.

“I cannot read or know that one. He is too bound to his father, and that is a terrifying thought. He is driven by a fear he cannot comprehend.” Her head cocked suddenly, her pale eyeballs flitting from side to side.

“Do you know an Emma, Andy?” Behind her the Sisters held each other in the post-orgasmic lull.

Andy nodded again, smiling at his memory of Ms. Lake, “She is a blonde journalist with perfect breasts and a kind heart. You would like her, earth mother.”

“Perhaps you can introduce me then. She approaches us as we speak. And you are right, Andy. She is a
beauty
.”

Chapter
Five: Old Squelchy’s Wrigglies

Nathan took a drag of his cigarette as he waited for the lift. June Miyamori stood next to him, her svelte physique bound in tight leather. The bone of her hip kept brushing against him as she swiveled gracefully on her feet, her entire attention devoted to the game she was playing on her smartphone. Her hair was dyed purple and covered half her face in a luminous fringe, and she wore red contact lenses that concealed her inner thoughts. She was statuesque in the neon glare of the digital screen above the lift.

Miyamori Fisheries Lower Levels – Do not enter!
read the scrolling message. June had pressed the button a few minutes earlier, and they were still waiting for the elevator to ascend. A security camera was mounted on the wall, its glossy black eye fixed on the unlikely duo. The groaning elevator doors slid open and they were assailed by the potent aroma of decaying fish. June unzipped a pocket on her breast and nestled the phone inside. She climbed into the elevator, her taut ass clearly defined by the whispering leather. She stood in the reeking lift and stared back at him with a bored expression etched on her face.

“Mr. Thorne?” He met her red eyes and took a deep breath.

Here you go, the moment of truth. You are entering Krang’s domain, the subterranean keep of the squid lord. Once you go down there is no coming back.

Nathan had heard spine-chilling tales of what happened to people who displeased Krang. Images of desiccated corpses covered with indolent crabs flashed through his mind.

Get in the lift Nathan. Do not allow the slut to see your weakness. Once they detect weakness the first crack will open, and then it is only a matter of time before the fissures spread and the elaborate construction that is Nathan Thorne falls apart.
His hands clenched into sweaty fists and he walked nonchalantly into the stink, his nose itching for another hit of coke and his skin bristling from the nauseating proximity to the emo bitch.

Nathan Thorne was not happy as the lift shuddered and began its slow descent.
This is all you need, another weak-willed woman standing in the Thorne shadow.
But her cowardly father was reluctant to bring him to the squelchy one, his blood running cold at the mere mention of the squid lord’s name. He had accepted the suitcase full of money, of course, but he would not set one foot inside the fishery.

“Sor- sorry Mr. Thorne, I cannot go down there again. I am too old to go running after gods. The smell…It is cold down there, too, so cold. It sinks beneath the bones, oh yes. The bones remember, and that is enough.” The man quailed in the back seat of his stretch limousine, and despite his immaculate black suit and the fringes of tattoos visible beneath his open collar, he looked nothing like one of the chief lieutenants of the Yakuza.

“But June can go, yes? She is strong, that one, like a man. Quick with a blade, and completely without fear. I trained her myself after her older brothers died. She is the only woman who can stand in front of Kr-, him. She will be your escort.”

So he was stuck with the yellow bleeder, her eyes impassive as they plummeted into the fishery’s bowels. She rolled her long neck, the bones clicking like monsters’ teeth in the cramped lift. He could smell leather and a faint whiff of coconut from her ridiculous hair. For a second he felt a wave of arousal, but when his cock began to stiffen, he bit down savagely on the inside of his lip until he tasted the rich iron of his blood.

Do not let her sweet scents fool you. She is a woman, and beneath the tantalizing veneer, she is blood and milk and horror just like the rest of them.

She was androgynous, the smooth plains of her face giving no hint of her gender. But Nathan could see the small bumps of her breasts and the swell of her hips outlined through her leather attire, and he cursed Mr. Miyamori and his cold bones.

Andy would know what to say.
If he was here with his hips grazing the sullen daughter of a Yakuza boss, he would probably concoct an appropriate witticism or pleasantry. Or look at her in that wistful way of his, his blue eyes brimming with innocence and sincerity. His brother was always slicker with the female sex, even when they were children. Little girls would run miles to tag Andrew in a game of kissing catchers, and grown women would marvel at his warm disposition and easy laughter.

Nathan was always the "other" one, the restless, temperamental mirror image of Andrew’s guileless charm. Resenting Andrew’s natural ease with others, Nathan decided it was necessary to display his own unique qualities. So when he played kissing catchers, he tore girls’ ponytails and kicked their shins. When women admired him, he swore in their faces and obscenely shot them his index finger. In short, knowing that he could never emulate Andrew’s inherent goodness, he strove to become as bad as possible, and he measured his progress by this ever widening gulf.

It had been the same with their mother. Even when he was a little boy, he suspected she never truly loved him. Andrew monopolized her matriarchal affections, and he remembered nights spent wishing Andy would die so he could have Mother all to himself. It shamed him now to think of it, his stomach turning as the elevator started to slow.

At least Father loved you.
That is something that Andrew and Eshabaar and all the world’s bloated whores cannot take away.
But Father was dead, Nathan was lost, and the girl alongside him was stirring his desire even though he wanted nothing more than to jam her phone between her teeth and make her swallow the fucking thing.

The lift lurched to a stop, interrupting Nathan’s worrying stream of consciousness. The doors opened, and the cold hit him before the smell. It was freezing down here, and he immediately stepped backwards and bunched his hands into his armpits. But the putrid stench forced him to cover his nose before he gagged. It smelled like fish heads and shit. And something else as well, a scent that seemed to seep into his skin and wrap its fingers around his throbbing heart. It smelled like death.

He could see nothing beyond the elevator doors. When he stretched his hand into the inky blackness it disappeared, and he began to wonder if coming here had been a wise idea. June turned to him and pressed an orange revolver into his hand. It was covered in dense Japanese text, and it had an unusually fat cylinder. Puzzled, his gaze passed from the gun back to June.

“What the fuck is this? I’m not going there to kill him, this is a business meeting. Christ, its cold.” His breath frosted in the icy air, and he began to hop from foot to foot to warm his tingling extremities.

June sighed wearily and took it back from him.

“Flare gun,” she muttered before raising her arm and firing. The flare arced through the sky and landed in the middle of a dark cavern, but its fiery trail revealed terrors that Nathan could never have imagined.

Women hung from the ceilings with their entrails hanging out, the eyes gouged from their frozen faces. Squid-like creatures with slimy tentacles and tufts of white hair sprouting from their pulsating heads skittered through the dark. Some had their bodies coiled around the flesh of helpless women, their wet mouths dilating like giant pussies as they fed on the juicy meat. Their membranous skin shone pink and grey as they inserted their slippery tentacles into cunts, mouths and assholes. He saw one woman attempting to crawl away from a wizened old squid, but the creature was merely toying with her. It whipped her around and fucked both her holes with separate tentacles, the woman wailing in pain and terror.

Old Squelchy’s wrigglies, the squid lord’s servants and kin.
They were approximately the size of African elephants, and the sucking ends of their tentacles tripled their span. Nathan tried to avoid looking at them, but the howls and slurping noises were impossible to ignore. These women were not treated like Eshabaar’s indulged cattle. They were not the bud of life or Krang’s loving disciples. They were simply meat. Some laughed hysterically and picked at their skin, their minds broken by their blasphemous ordeals. Some begged. Some cried. Yet in the end, all of them got what was coming to them.

“Walk to the light and you will find a body of water. Krang will be waiting for you. None of the wrigglies will touch you until they hear the squid lord’s verdict.”

Nathan turned to June, fear and anger competing for dominion over his twitching face.

“Woman, are you mad in the fucking head? You are my escort, bought and paid for. There is no way I am going in there alone!”

June shrugged, “I may not be a regular woman, but there is only so much Krang will tolerate. I cannot accompany a man to the Squid Shore. His minions would suck the marrow from my bones and hang me up with the others. If you were to leave now and waste his time, they will do the same to you. Have you ever been fucked by a squid, Mr. Thorne?”

He fought the urge to smack her face and ran to the burning flare before he had the chance to lose his nerve. The ground was soft and littered with bones, and he could feel unloving eyes staring at him from the surrounding darkness. Near the pool he ran into a woman who reached out to him with imploring hands, but a long pink tentacle curled around her waist and dragged her screaming back into the shadows.

The pool was black, its edges hemmed by rocks covered in sticky seaweed. Nathan walked out to the edge, his skin prickling as he inhaled a tube of amyl nitrate through a practiced nostril.

“Krang? Answer my call and rise from the sleepless deep.”

“Who goessss there?” The voice was sibilant and resounding, the earth trembling beneath Nathan’s feet.

“Nathan Thorne. I have a proposition for you, squid lord. I will give you the sweetest, most sacred female meat in the known world. At least three dozen fattened whores filled with delicious milk. In return, I would have you kill Eshabaar, the earth mother who reigns over the Laguna Mountains.”

The creature emerged from the pool. He was colossal, at least five times as big as the others. His head was protuberant and gelatinous, and his two black eyes were tiny dots in the middle of a suppurating face. The tentacles circling his eyes and sharp beak were as thick as buses, and one wound around Nathan and lifted him off his kicking feet.

“Unhand me! Let me go! Please, I’ll do anything! Krang, Listen to me!”

Krang laughed, and the sound was a disgusting wet wracking that sent slime flying off his head. His wrigglies joined in, and Nathan prayed for a quick death as Krang brought Nathan in front of his gigantic face. The breath coming from Krang’s mouth was hot and foul, and Nathan could see fragments of bone caught in the cephalopod’s curved beak.

“Esssshabaar… I have not heard that name in yearssss. You would have me kill a goddesss?”

“A goddess? She is a perversion, a freak! She makes a temple of the feminine body and she tore my family apart! Please, I will do anything….Wait…” Nathan looked at those beady black eyes, “You know her?”

Krang cleared his throat, black ink dribbling from his mouth and staining the unusual patches of snowy hair growing from his skin and beak, “Let me tell you the sssstory about the ssssquid and the earth mother’sssss kingdom, Nathan, son of Essssther and Eliot Thorne.”

Chapter
Six: An Unexpected Pang of Maternal Need

Emma Lake sat outside the Laguna compound in her pink BMW, hoping her maternal charade was more successful than her previous efforts at infiltrating the Thorne dynasty. She stared at the imposing shield of Laguna’s outer wall, a strand of hair crushed between her slowly grinding molars. The grim guardsman was conferring with somebody over the phone and suspiciously casting glances at Emma.

And he has every right to mistrust you. Today is the day you finally discover the truth about Mother’s Milk and the Laguna operations.

She called in advance and proffered a false name, claiming she was an infertile mother looking to adopt a child from the world famous Thorne orphanage. She knew it was a risky move, and her superiors would not be impressed if they discovered her subterfuge. After her failed attempt to interview the twins, her boss had received a call from a foul-mouthed, incensed Nathan Thorne.

“Don’t send any more lame-brained debutantes to bother me or my brother. We can cripple your fucking business if we want to, so bury your cocksucking expose! Pleasure talking to you.” Her boss heeded the threat, no doubt it was sincere. The Thornes had controlling interests in various media companies, and
The Oracle
represented little more than a pesky gnat hidden behind the ear of a lumbering giant.

She looked at her fake identity card and wondered if they would take the bait. Gaining access to the Laguna milk parlors was nearly impossible, but many prospective parents entered the compound empty handed and left with mewling children. "Harriet Gold" was the borrowed name printed on the card. Harriet was her dead mother’s name, and Emma was pretending to be an orthopedic surgeon (which was Harriet Lake’s profession before the cancer took her).

She used her computer to craft a compelling narrative for Harriet Gold and her thriving practice, and she prayed that the ruse would be sufficient. The deception tasted sour in her mouth, but she knew there was no other way.

The Thornes left you little choice after the interview room and the obscenity laden phone call, so the lie was a necessary evil.

The gate opened and the guardsman motioned for her to enter.
Yes! They bought it!
She shifted her car into drive and rolled through the outer walls. For the first time since she showed him the phony documentation, she saw the flicker of a smile crease the guard’s morose face, and a tiny precognition of dread shivered across her skin.

Don’t worry, just be natural.
Go to the orphanage and continue your game. You can sneak into the milk parlor on the way out. What’s the worst that could happen if they caught you anyway?

She drove to a parking bay in front of the large silver milk parlor, the mountains that framed it grim and ominous below a darkening sky. She parked her car and inhaled deeply, her fingertips rattling against the steering wheel. In the distance, she could see a group of children gathered in the shade of a large cottonwood, leaves falling amongst them in the crisp autumn air. A woman wearing an odd white shawl sat on a chair and read to them, her face hidden by a silk veil.

Looking at the children’s wide-eyed faces, she felt an unexpected pang of maternal need.

Don’t be silly Emma, that is not why you came here. She had never given much thought to having children, but an unknown voice began to whisper in the recesses of her skull.

Maybe you never came here to expose the Thornes at all. Maybe it’s a child you want. You can have it Ms. Lake. You can be a mother eternally, and Andy Thorne will feed on those splendid breasts in the warmth of my womb. Just give yourself over to the milk…

Emma brought her hands to her head and screamed, willing the seductive voice to disappear.
Am I going crazy?
Before she had a chance to formulate a response to her terrified question, Andrew Thorne walked up to her car from the milk parlor as if he had been summoned.
Oh no! You’re fucked now!

Nonetheless, Emma felt a tremor of heat awaken her pussy and she had to stop herself from burrowing her hands into her tits. He was dressed casually, his scuffed blue denims and simple white T-shirt accentuating his raw beauty. Emma considered making a quick getaway, but she knew that was foolish.

At least it’s not the other one. You can talk your way around this, Emma. That is, if you want to…

“Ms. Gold? I don’t recall making an appointment with an orthopedic surgeon. My bones are fine,” he smiled broadly, his smile dazzling in the light of the setting sun. His black hair was wet, thin strands plastered to his alluring face.

“What can I say? You caught me. And here I thought I was being clever.”

Andrew laughed. “Well, I admire your persistence. You want to know the secret of Mother’s Milk? Follow me Ms. Lake, its right inside there.” His arm pointed to the gleaming milk parlor and its open doors.

She opened her car and walked behind Andrew in the tall grass. His ass looked practically edible beneath the denim as cords of muscle strained against his tight white shirt.

This is it Emma.
Finally you can complete your piece on the mysterious Thornes and their remarkable milk. And maybe after…
The next thing she knew she was inside the parlor, and all journalistic pride and fantasies of Andrew’s mouth and cock dissolved as she stared at the monstrosity beneath her.

A pool full of pregnant women greeted her disbelieving eyes. They were covered in gooey milk and chanting as they circled an auburn-haired woman in the throes of delivering a child. Two large breasted women stood behind the mother and stroked her massive breasts, the black one holding the mother’s hand and speaking words of encouragement while her ebony fingers milked and kneaded. Emma stared in horror at the tubes and suction cups that sprouted from the pregnant women’s skin, and she knew there was a reason why Mother’s Milk tasted so thrillingly decadent. But her lactation fantasies were
nothing
compared to this spectacle of milk and breasts.
Oh god, what is this?

This is my gift to the world,
answered the voice in her head.

Creepy tentacles pried apart the woman’s lower limbs, and the crown of a squealing child slithered from between her submerged vulva. The mother screamed once more as she pushed her child into the world, and as she sank into the arms of her lovers the other round-bellied women converged on her.

They chewed the placenta as if it were a rare delicacy. An Asian woman opened her mouth and fed the umbilical cord into her gullet while the tentacles swaddled the child in cloth and carried it into the sky. An uneasy mixture of disgust and desire filled Emma as the women started to fuck in the milk bath.

Andrew leaned close behind her, his eyes staring down into her cleavage as he brought his mouth to her ear, “Welcome to the birthplace of Mother’s Milk. I’m sure you will love it here.”

She pulled away from him and fled into the twilight. She did not know where she was going, but she knew she could not spend another minute in the presence of Andrew and those crazed women. She never got far. As her legs pumped through the high grass, she was jerked into the air, the green grass writhing with terrible agency and tightening around her ankles.

They have you now Emma.
Damn you and your curiosity!

“Now, don’t be so hard on yourself.” The woman who had been reading to the children stood below her with her veil removed, her skin glittering.

“It is every woman’s right to be a little bit curious.”