Across Blac Seas of Infinity

Author's note: Some parts of this Lovecraftian tale of cosmic horror will contain dark elements and non-consent. I'm eager for feedback, so please leave a comment.

*****

"Welcome, sister, and thank you for bringing the Knife. We have much to do." Miss Taylor -- RaptorChick -- smiled and reached out her hands to Abigail, beckoning her forward as if to embrace her, but Abigail planted her feet by the door. "I'm sure you have a lot of questions, but there's no need for you to be afraid here. Surely the Knife has brought you that far, at least?"

Miss Taylor tilted her crowned head, waiting for a response, but Abigail wasn't sure what she could safely say. Professor Ward's semen elixir was limiting the Knife's power over her, and Miss Taylor might be rather surprised by Abigail's lack of enthusiasm for ritual sacrifices. The brown-haired woman in the crown was probably expecting Abigail to join her Shub-Niggurath cult, but at the moment -- while she was in her right mind -- Abigail just wanted to free herself from the Knife.

"I'm not afraid," Abigail lied -- the chaotic orgy on the balcony downstairs had shaken her to the core. "But I don't get what's going on here. Who are you?"

Miss Taylor laughed, her sharp features silhouetted by the palid, untimely moon -- Abigail knew it couldn't be past noon, but the sky outside was black and dotted with unfamiliar stars. "You know more about me than I do about you, Punchau. You can call me Miss Taylor, or RaptorChick, or Eagle -- whichever you like. I'm the All-Mother's... agent, her servant. I lead her followers as we prepare the world for her awakening."

"The awakening of Shub-Niggurath," Abigail said.

"That is one of her names, yes. The goddess of life and death, fertility and extermination. She has slumbered for aeons, drifting across the Black Seas of Infinity, dreaming of the day when she can spread her seed across the earth and raise a new generation of her children. That is what we have been working towards for centuries."

"Centuries, huh? Why now then? Why me?"

Miss Taylor strode across the room and stood uncomfortably close to

Abigail. Her scent was sweet and pleasant, like the fragrance of a thickly flowered meadow. "Because you found the Knife," she said, reaching out to caress the blade with her hands. Abigail tried to yank it away, but the Eagle was quite strong. When their hands touched, Abigail gasped as her body was overcome by sudden arousal. "Don't worry, sister, I won't take the Knife -- I don't want it, I want you."

Abigail groaned and stared into Miss Taylor's dark eyes, just a few inches from her own, and stammered: "I... I want..." What? Abigail didn't know. It was less than a day since she had sucked off Professor Ward, but Miss Taylor stoked an inexorable lust in her that she had no desire to resist. Fortunately for Abigail, the crowned woman released her hands and backed away.

"In two days you will have what you want. What you need. Your Revelation will be the beginning of a new epoch for the Frigid Bitch, Earth," Miss Taylor said with a grin, her voice rising. "We will finally pry her stubborn legs apart and thrust into her warm flesh. She'll fight and kick and scream, but

you

will lay bare her most intimate delicacies. Oh, how glorious it will be to fuck her, filling her with the All-Mother's children, teaching her the pleasure of submission, ripping cries of eternal ecstasy from her unwilling flesh!" Miss Taylor was nearly overcome with ecstasy herself and collapsed against her desk with a wail followed by heavy breathing.

Abigail was stunned by the woman's insane ranting, but the her words reached into Abigail's soul and tugged on her insides. Everything the she said was more than merely right -- it was beautiful. And Abigail longed to be a part of it. "What does the All-Mother require of me?"

Miss Taylor shuddered against her desk and spoke without looking up. "The Crown gave me the power to build this instrument, this weapon," she said, waving her hand across the building, the people, even the city surrounding them. "But the Knife holds the power to wield it. You will take the weapon that I've created and use it to remake humanity. You will kill, you will fuck, you will breed the All-Mother's children, and their infant screams will rouse her from her aeonic slumber."

Miss Taylor's panting began to quicken and the woman slouched over her desk, overcome by some grim mood that stole her attention inward and implicitly dismissed Abigail from her presence. Grace took Abigail's arm and tugged her towards door. When they were alone in the hallway Grace dropped into a curtsy and said, "Please let me show you to a room where you can rest. You must be tired from your travels."

Abigail rubbed her forehead, trying to make any sense of what she had just witnessed. "Lead the way," she said, her legs shaking as the adrenaline surge subsided. Away from the Eagle's presence she knew, again, how crazy everything sounded. A few weeks ago she would have laughed this whole trip off as some kind of mass hysteria, but she had been under the power of the Knife and knew in her gut that Miss Taylor was speaking the truth... in some form. But one thing was missing: in Punchau's memory there had been three leaders on the summit of the Temple of the Sun: the Eagle, the Spider, and the figure wrapped head-to-toe in deep blue cloth. Who was the blue-shrouded person, and how did he or she fit into all this?

Grace led her down several floors -- thankfully away from the violent orgy that rampaged on the balcony -- and through a hallway lined with small apartments, like a hotel. She opened the door at the end of the hall and waved Abigail into a luxuriously furnished room with a view over the city, the noontime sun shining brightly into the concrete canyons below. The door had no lock or latch, so at least she wasn't a prisoner.

"Make yourself at home," Grace said. "You can use the phone if you need anything for your preparations."

An arrangement of food on the dining table called out to Abigail and made her stomach growl, but the huge, soft bed was nearly irresistible as well. Stifling a yawn, Abigail devoured some bread and cheese and had begun working on an apple when she realized that Grace was still in the room, but now standing naked next to a pile of folded clothes. Abigail almost choked when she saw the girl's lithe, athletic body, and the lust she had felt earlier began swelling again.

Grace looked at the floor and said, "Please punish me as you see fit for my rudeness earlier. And then... it would be an honor to serve you."

Abigail was speechless. She had never even thought about another girl sexually before, but Grace's submissive posture and downturned eyes made her pussy throb with excitement. She swallowed her bite of apple while Grace waited patiently. Miss Taylor was insane, but Grace seemed like a nice girl... maybe in over her head. But was she bewitched by the Knife? Of course... why else would she debase herself like this? But Abigail realized in an instant that she didn't care. Grace was beautiful in some essential way that was beyond immediate comprehension, and Abigail had a desperate need that had been building for weeks without any hope of release. She wanted Professor Ward's cock more than anything, but since she couldn't risk pregnancy... well...

Abigail sat on the side of the bed. "Grace, I will punish you," she said, her mind racing back to when Ward had spanked her a few days ago. "Bend over my knee."

Grace curtsied and approached Abigail from the side, smoothly bending her body over Abigail's lap with her head hanging towards the floor and her butt in the air. Her skin was tanned and flawless, and Abigail admired her cheeks and the narrow bit of asshole and pussy revealed in the gap between. Abigail rubbed her right hand over Grace's skin uncertainly, and then gave the girl a tentative slap.

"Thank you," Grace said, and then waited. Her patience was a huge turn-on for Abigail, as if she had nothing else to do besides wait on Abigail's pleasure.

Abigail spanked her butt harder three times in a row, each slap making a loud cracking sound of skin against skin, leaving a red flush on Grace's cheek in the shape of a hand. The girl wiggled on her lap but stayed silent. A rush of excitement overcame Abigail -- not hard enough, huh? Maybe this will get her attention.

With a long wind-up Abigail swung her arm down again on Grace's ass and the girl jumped and squealed. "That's better," Abigail said, surprising herself, and the began swinging again as hard as she could. Abigail's hand came down repeatedly as Grace yelped, and she switched from cheek to cheek until they were both beet red. Abigail was panting by the time she stopped, having lost count of the spanks long before, and only then did she realize that Grace was sobbing softly and sniffling, her hair hanging upside down over her face.

Abigail was shocked and embarrassed -- how had she lost control like that? Her hand stung from the impacts. She grabbed the naked girl from her lap and tried to life her upright, searching for words. "Grace, Grace? I'm sorry," she said.

Grace's bottom was bright red as she stood up tentatively, tears streaming down her face and smearing her previously perfect makeup. Her legs wobbled and then she collapsed to her knees in front of Abigail. "No, no, I'm sorry for displeasing you. Thank you for disciplining me. Thank you," she said through stifled sobs." She buried her face and cried into the hem of Abigail's dress over her thighs, and Abigail didn't know what to do so she began to softly pet the other girl's hair. She was sorry, and yet... a big part of her was also thrilled with the feeling of power, the raw physicality of inflicting pain on this willing girl's ass.

As Abigail pondered her mixed emotions, Grace lifted her head, streaked with makeup, and slid her fingers up Abigail's thighs under her dress. "Please, may I pleasure you now?"

Abigail's tummy flipped. Grace wanted to... down there... even after that spanking? To another girl? Abigail was surprised how badly she wanted to feel the girl's touch. She couldn't have Ward, but Grace would be a whole different kind of pleasure.

Abigail nodded, and Grace lifted her easily onto the bed and pushed Abigail onto her back. Before Abigail could even react, Grace looped her fingers through her panties and pulled them down and off. The air was cool on Abigail's pussy and Grace slid up between her legs. Abigail pushed herself up on her elbows to watch the other girl spread her thighs open, and she winced when she saw Grace's bright red butt -- had her own ass looked so bad a few days ago?

All higher-level thought fled as Grace's mouth found her pussy. Abigail fell onto her back as the girl's tongue slid up and down her lips, gently slipping between them, a little deeper with each stroke. Grace's tear-dampened face pressed against Abigail's thighs and her nose brushed Abigail's clit as she slurped noisily, pressing her mouth firmly against Abigail's opening and then traveling up to her clit, back and forth. Abigail moaned with pleasure -- it was everything she had ever imagined. Her thighs clutched at Grace's head and her hands twisted in the blonde's hair, pulling her closer, burying the girl's face in her pussy. When Grace wrapped her lips around Abigail's clit, Abigail contorted in pleasure and screamed as every muscle in her body clamped down and then burst open in gushing ecstasy.

When she caught her breath and looked down, Grace was still lapping at her pussy and only the girl's earth-brown eyes were visible, looking up at Abigail over the horizon of her panting tummy. Abigail was flooded with confused emotion even as her mind bounced from thought to thought: the first person to give her an orgasm, other than herself, was a

girl

she had just met... or was it that woman Punchau had fucked centuries ago... or was it Punchau himself? While Grace snuggled Abigail's tingling pussy with her face, Abigail couldn't help but long for Professor Ward's meaty cock... and then she immediately felt guilty for thinking of someone else while Grace was still buried in her juices.

"Grace, thank you," she murmured, but then her heart skipped a beat. "Do you want me to...?" Abigail trailed off. She was shocked to realize that she wanted to eat Grace's pussy, but she was too embarrassed to put it into words. Maybe Punchau's memory had given her a taste for that soft, warm flesh that she had never considered before. Or maybe it was the Knife, next to her on the bed, that amped up every sexual desire. Abigail hated not knowing where she ended and these foreign influences began.

Grace wiggled her naked body up Abigail and kissed her on the lips, soft and deep. The girl's tears and Abigail's pussy juices had mixed on her face, giving her a somewhat pathetic look that was brightened by a satisfied smile. "Whatever pleases you, Punchau. But I see that you are tired. Would you like me to come get you in a few hours? Miss Taylor is preparing a feast in your honor tonight."

Abigail planned to be gone by then, but she was incredibly sleepy. Taking a nap here seemed crazy, but a few hours of rest would do her good. For some reason she trusted Grace, even though her mind said not to. "Sounds grand. What's your story, Grace? You mentioned something about sisters earlier..."

Grace smiled even more broadly and stared off into the distance. "Perhaps I will have some soon, if the All-Mother is pleased by the female sacrifices. Then I won't have to be alone anymore. Miss Taylor has always devoutly followed the rituals, but so far I have been the only daughter to survive. With your Revelation, I hope every sacrifice will be blessed with a daughter of her own, and then I will have many sisters."

"You mean... you were born from a sacrifice? Like what we saw on the balcony?" Abigail asked.

Grace nodded. "By the All-Mother's 'grace', yes -- the first in a long time, but not the last." Then she rolled out of bed and stretched, giving Abigail a glorious, slightly envious, view of her perfectly toned body. "You have a lot to learn, but I will help you. Later. After you rest."

Grace was a perfectly wonderful girl, but Abigail struggled to reconcile her kindness with the terrible implications of the horrible knowledge she had revealed. "Yes, ok. Thank you. Please wake me up in time to prepare."

Abigail watched Grace get dressed and then fell back onto the thick mattress. Waiting for complete silence after Grace left, she set the alarm on her phone for 3pm London time, planning to be gone before Grace returned. Exhausted and overstimulated in every way, she drifted off into an unexpectedly deep and peaceful sleep...

... so deep that she had trouble rousing herself a couple of hours later when the lockless door clicked open to admit a man with a dagger.

*****

End note: Abigail is starting to put together some pieces, and her independent agency is paying off. It's hard to balance the story-driven concepts with the character-driven intimacies that I want to create. I have a story I want to tell, but I want to make sure that Abigail isn't just along for the ride.

The spanking is pretty hot to me, and I like the turnabout that has Abigail in the dominant role. I like the idea of the Knife confusing her sexuality, and we'll have to see where it goes from here.

I hope I'm not introducing new characters too quickly. Maybe I should make a glossary or something. I've got one in my notes, but would it be useful or interesting to readers?