Page 5 of Clutching Cthulhu’s Pearls (Time for Monsters)

Harriett is different from the women Papa brings me. The beautiful Harriett came to the swamp, seeking my touch. She talked to me instead of screaming awful things about me. I understand Harriett, but I haven’t had time to tell her. She’s trying to understand my words. I hate that I don’t have lips—not plump like Harriett’s or thin like Papa’s lips—just scales around my mouth. Before Mother disappeared, she taught me to say as many words as my flat mouth allowed. I know my letters, numbers, and colors. Mother started to teach me the magic of reading when Papa took her away. I have thoughts and feelings…

…for Harriett…

Papa can’t take her away—not when she looked at me with love in her eyes.

I scowl at Papa as he leads us to the lab. I hate the lab. Women scream and claw at me while Papa yells at me to implant my eggs into them. As their bellies balloon with eggs, the women cry and screech at me to stop. They die. They always die hating me. They fight my eggs and bleed to death, or they kill themselves. I bury them in my swamp with lilies because Mother said lilies are flowers that say, I’m sorry.

If I hesitate to give the women my eggs, Mr. Breyers hits me. His belt hurts. Will Harriett hate me? Will she cry out in fear or with joy like she did in the swamp? If she doesn’t want my eggs, I will stop. Mr. Breyers can hit me all he wants, but I won’t kill her. Will Papa take Harriett like he disappeared Mother when I refused to deposit my eggs into her?

“I won’t put too many eggs, Hairy. I will protect you no matter how hard he hits me,” I whisper against her hair. My sack bulges with six eggs, enough to ensure a living hatchling but not enough to kill Harriett. This is why I pushed my mating liquid inside her before we moved. It opens her body for eggs, making her crave my oviscape.

She cries harder but buries her head against my shoulder. Her arms around my neck tug me closer. I press her front against me to keep Papa from looking at her pretty curves. She rubs her thighs together as my ejaculate starts warming her body. The rubbing of her folds will feed the need, not reduce it. If it takes all my strength, I will ensure Harriett feels pleasure, not pain. I can’t help but hope she knows we’ll fight together against Papa.

“We can run,” she whispers so softly, I wasn’t sure she said the words. She hasn’t noticed my egg sack hangs too low for me to run. My thigh muscles strain to lift my legs high enough to protect my egg sack from bouncing on the stairs. “You must be a strong swimmer. From the swamp, we can swim to the river, build a raft, and float to freedom.”

How does she know my deepest desires if she isn’t my soulmate? She’s never heard me tell stories of my future on a raft to my siblings. Could she be the mystery lady I call my starlight? Is that why she visited me under the full moon? I loved her before I met her. The life she offers has lived in my mind since I was a child. I will do anything to live that dream.

“I dream of a raft life with Hairy,” I whisper too softly for Papa to hear. My hearing is better than a normal human’s ears, but Papa’s worsens as his hair falls out.

“If you help me escape, I’ll give you a raft life,” she whimpers.

“What’s your conversation about Harriett? Are you getting better acquainted with the father of your children? Well, don’t bother! Those hatchlings will be the centerpiece of my exhibit at the World’s Fair,” Papa shouts as he storms into the house.

Harriett cries harder.

I see red.

“You don’t need to yell at her, Papa,” I snap.

He repeats me, mocking the way my words come out.

I want Hairy to smile and love me when she receives my eggs—not howl and claw at her handcuffs! Despite her anger at Papa, her body weeps for my cock. I love her because she looks at me as a person with thoughts and feelings—not a beast. I’m more than my fins and fangs. I want to learn, build, and create. My world is small but beautiful under the swamp. No humans go deep into the grasses. It’s a special place I can show Harriett. She will love sharing the wilderness with me. Someday she will love me.

Or I’ll die proving how much I love her.

My mind grabs Harriett’s raft life and refuses to let go. I can see myself building a floating house for her and our hatchlings. Our home will have a cooking area, so I don’t have to eat raw fish. We will have a reading area where Harriett will teach our hatchlings—the way Mother taught me. No lab. I will give Harriett dozens of eggs and beautiful hatchlings without strapping her down. We won’t need a lab. We will transfer eggs with pleasure and love…always.

“Your lab? There’s no room in your lab! Why don’t we retire to my rooms?” Harriett says in a stronger voice.

She glares at Papa, but he smiles at her. It’s not a loving smile, but rather one a devil would wear. We cross his small animal room to the secret door behind the bookshelf. Harriett struggles for the first time. She kicks her feet to swim away without water. Her eyes widen with terror. The ‘O’ shape in her mouth displays her blunt, defenseless teeth. She’s clawing…but not to escape me…she’s climbing me like a tree.

Blunt teeth, flat claws, mind clouded, my mate needs me to rescue her.

If only I could communicate my plan.

Harriett

“No, no, no,” I yell as I squirm.

Phineas holds me steady. He whispers stunted affirmations of love and protection with his speech impediment. Instead of calming me, they wind the horror tighter within my body. Whose side is he on? Do I dare trust him to let me go? He’s following Leopold into a room so camouflaged, I never noticed it before. I hold onto the doorframe as long as I can before my arms no longer reach. With the finality of the last nail in my coffin, Leopold slams the door behind us.

He lights a gas lantern to reveal his torture chamber. Straps and tubes hang on the walls. My flailing legs kick over a table covered with sample jars and hastily labeled bottles next to the door. I’m smug for two seconds before I’m spanked by Leopold. The sting on my wet skin makes my body gush a torrent of embarrassing liquid. Phineas’s webbed fingers hold most of it, but nobody can miss the splatters on the floor.

I lost control of myself after Phineas pressed his ejaculate into me.

Phineas growls and swings me to face the wall. He may be my ally after all.

“No hitting! No, not like Mr. Breyers! No hitting Hairy,” Phineas roars.

Leopold opens his mouth to assert dominance…and then closes it. I hope the booboisie sees how small and feeble he is compared to Phineas. If I can convince Phineas that he’s in charge, Leopold will have no choice but to let us go. I lock eyes with my husband as understanding blooms in them.

Phineas must be a willing sperm donor…which me ans Leopold can’t abuse me. I wish I could say forcing sex between Phineas and me counts as abuse, but the burn between my legs has blazed from uncomfortable to maddening. Whatever hormones live in his ejaculate, he should bottle and sell. At this point, I’d allow any blunt instrument into my cunt if they promised it would ease my pelvic ache and elongated, over-sensitized clit. My mind doesn’t want sex, but my body is primed and insistent.

“No hitting? Mr. Breyers usually holds them down so I can strap the ladies onto the table. Do I need Mr. Breyers, or will you help me?” Leopold asks his questions in a syrupy sweet voice.

“I will help for leaving out Mr. Breyers—and don’t strap Hairy in too tightly. Don’t hurt her,” Phineas says with a flash of his pointy teeth.

My panic multiplies one hundred times. How dare Phineas bargain with Leopold when he has all the power?! While I don’t want Mr. Breyers anywhere near my naked body, I don’t want to be strapped to the waist-height table either. The leather restraints for ankles and wrists are at least two inches wide. The middle belt, dangling onto the floor, is wider. Once I’m in place, I will be helpless. I doubt Phineas is strong enough to bust through the restraints either. It will take a moment of privacy for him to undo the buckles, and Lord knows Leopold won’t take his eyes off me once I’m an experiment.

Dammit, why did I have to get the attention I’ve always wanted now?!

“Settle, Hairy,” Phineas whispers against my neck. Leopold grumbles something and crawls under the table. As he fumbles with the latches on the table legs to reach it, Phineas inches us backward. “My plan will get us and our hatchlings a raft life.”

Plan? Phineas has a plan! I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling. He winks at me in the cutest gesture I’ve ever seen. A barbel caresses my cheek. I cup his jaw in my palm to show my support. Tentacles wrap around my arm and neck. My desire to open my thighs for him intensifies. I can’t stand the empty rubbing of my vaginal walls on each other. For a second, I believe we are on the banks of the swamp in a moment of passion—not ensnared in Leopold’s research. Phineas exudes strength, cunning, and virility. He’s not a giant dumb monster...

…And Leopold underestimates his intelligence.

“Yes, settled. Let’s get her settled,” Leopold says from under the table, grasping onto the half he heard. His ego prevents him from noticing Phineas’s rebellion or asking Phineas to repeat our exchanges. He treats us like furniture. That will work in our favor when escaping under his nose.

“Lay down and let me love you,” Phineas says loud enough for Leopold to hear.

My husband’s evil smile beams in the dusty room.

Too bad I’m so desperate for Phineas’s cock, the table looks inviting. I won’t give my husband the satisfaction of whimpering and begging to be released. No, I want Phineas. My body hungers for him. With my ankles secured on the ends of metal table extensions and my feet cupped in the metal fasteners, I’ll have leverage for thrusting.

If Leopold wants a narrative of his unethical experiments to publish in a dodgy scientific journal, I’ll give him a show he’ll never forget! Let’s see who the man is when I scream his monster’s name and ride his monster’s cock. I’ll beg Phineas to keep going after I’m full of eggs!

Let’s see if that gets rise out of my impotent husband!

“I’m sorry, Hairy,” Phineas says with tears in his voice as he lays me on the table. “I will love you gently.”

“I know you will,” I reply before kissing him fiercely. I hold the back of his head when he tries to break our kiss. My tongue thrusts inside his mouth, mimicking how I want to be impaled upon him. I tuck the end of a tentacle between my thighs and wiggle until it’s coated with juices. The tip glides an inch inside me to tease the spongy section of my front wall. Yes, he will do his best to pleasure me. He will find a way to set us free.

“I believe in you.”

My words are coated with meaning as I whisper them into his ear.

I shock Leopold to his toes when I raise my arms over my head to be shackled. He glares at my smirk. Phin’s lids lower with arousal. One hand massages my hip while the other pumps more green ejaculate from his smaller cock. It oozes over his hand. He glides the back of his knuckles between my labia to transfer the fluid to my arousal-engorged flesh. My hips undulate for more when he massages my inner labia. I throw my head back and moan wantonly when he thrusts two webbed fingers coated in green goop into me.

The burn reaches inferno levels. The tingling in my abdomen morphs into pressure on my pelvic bones. Am I being split in half?

“It burns,” I whine when I wish I could keep silent. All my modesty washed away with the green fluid. He adds a dollop to each nipple, so they harden like diamonds. His fingers plunge between my lips when I gasp. My tongue dances with his flavor and tiny stings. Even my gums threaten to let go of my teeth and prance around my mouth after he rubs them. My eyes roll back into my head with need.

“I will put your fires out,” Phineas declares with the robustness of a man in charge. I strain to push my legs open as far as I can while he looms over me. His tentacles rub along my legs and belly in loving sweeps.

“I want you,” I whisper in response. My tongue is too large for my mouth, so my words come out sloppy. Drool drips from the corners and down my chin.

“She’s ready for your hectocotylus, Phineas,” Leopold says as he emerges from under the table. Not only am I strung out between my wrist and ankle restraints, but a thick strap holds my ribs down.

“Yes, Phin, I’m ready for you,” I say between pants.

“Let’s gag her,” Leopold says with a rough edge. He enters my field of view with a ball hanging from a leather strap.

“Don’t you dare,” Phin whispers with a menacing hiss. “Her sounds belong to me.”

Phineas

He puts the ball gag away. I said no, and he turned to comply. What is going on? Hairy lies in the straps with love and trust in her eyes. She will be a loving mother to our hatchlings if I can get her out of here. I’ve done a thorough job of preparing her to receive eggs. With my fluids changing her body, I won’t rip the muscle at the top of her opening that Papa calls a cervix. Ripping a cervix could fill her with blood…that’s how the fighting, blond-haired lady died. No, I won’t injure Harriett. I must believe she’s my mate and built to bear my hatchlings.

To sneak out of here, she must be pregnant.

She is in no state to transport her. In opening her body, I’ve unleashed a fireball of desire. She strains to impale her cunt on me. Her body will hunger for cock until she’s full of eggs. While I want to give them to her in private, we will travel easier if they live within her. I can carry her as I run to the swamp. She will float on a log of driftwood until we find better transport. Her body won’t burn while carrying eggs. She may even sleep.

I thrust my smaller cock into her to test the cervix. The last of my goop sputters into the deepest recesses of her body. Harriett’s moans don’t change when I bump the end. If her cervix was thick and closed, that bump would hurt. I push deeply to transfer as much fluid as possible. Her moans are throaty with lust, not screechy with pain.

I guess she’s ready. Oh, but the pretty way her mouth hangs open, corners curved upward and lips bouncing as I thrust into her. My hips quicken to jostle her breasts too. She sighs with pleasure. Her beauty as she lets me love her brings tears to my eyes. I’m pleasing her! I knew she would love joining with me. It’s more than putting out the fire I built in her; she’s loving Phineas…like a man and woman. We will make a loving home for the hatchlings…starting with how much we will love each other.

“Enough! Just give her eggs!” Papa stomps his foot and points at Harriett.

“Phin, yes, Phin! I love your cock! Give me your eggs!” Harriett yells. While I glow with her praise, I fear she might want to rub our love into Papa’s face. Why don’t they love each other? He could have claimed Hairy, bringing a new mother to all his creatures who live in the swamp. She’s too young, pretty, and full of life to be meant for him. How did he trap her in marriage? For a husband, Papa doesn’t mind my claiming her. He wants my eggs in her for his experiments more than he wants to love her himself.

He’s a fool.

“Yes, Papa,” I say, giving a wide smile to Harriett. “My Hairy will protect our eggs.”

Harriett nods in jerks, out of sync with the bouncing of her body. She hears my unspoken instructions. After I implant the eggs, Papa will be beside himself with joy. He will forget we’re in the room and lose himself in his work. This will give us a chance to escape.

I switch cocks and slowly work the larger phallus into her tight body. Her inner muscles squeeze and fight each inch. Tears run down her face. I collect them with my tentacles. She plants tiny kisses on them. Her eyes fly wide when I force the first ring past her opening but settle as it works its way up her channel.

“Yeah, I hope she chokes on your oviscape! Take that, Harriett! How do you like your lover now?” Papa yells his ugly words over Harriett’s face. The blood pulses in his neck and floods his face with red blotches.

Harriett

“He’s wonderfully enormous,” I whisper with a blissful sigh as Phin trades the small cock for the ringed oviscape to deliver his eggs. The friction and stretch against my hungry cunt are just what my body craves. Every ridge must be forced past my straining inner labia before gliding over the pleasure nerves within me. I could get addicted to Phin’s oviscape, or hectocotylus, as Leopold calls it. I’ll call it a divining rod because it finds all my golden spots.

Tentacles skip over my flesh as he wraps my breasts like he did in the swamp. The red suckers tug my nipples until they lose their grip due to the tingling goop. Oh, how deliciously scandalous to be splayed out in such a wanton fashion while his inhuman appendages play in the ejaculate I’m wearing. I’m stained, ruined, deviant, an abomination, and every other horrid name Leopold could call me…and I love it.

Being immune to his degradation is my new power.

“I love you, Phin.”

“I love you, Hairy,” Phin replies between thrusts. He works his giant shaft into me, inch by glorious inch. I’m stuffed. His thinner cock rubs against my clit while his barbels flick over my tortured flesh. My mound is a dome where he’s stretched me to fullness.

I may die from sensation overload…but what a fantastic way to go!

“Oh! Oh!” Phin yells incoherent phrases. His facial features droop. His tentacles and barbels straighten as if struck by a bolt of lightning. Eyes closed but mouth hanging open, he releases a moan so deep it shakes the table loose from its fastenings to the floor .

He’s incredible when he climaxes.

Squeak! Did I make that shriek? The egg leaves his body and enters mine. My pelvis sits under an invisible weight. Are the edges of my womb ripping apart? Between my coil-covered breasts, my heart pounds. The area under my navel grows a lump the size of a chicken egg. The closing of my body around the egg is a blast of pleasure so bright I sing like an operatic soprano. My orgasm welcomes the egg into me with loving pulses as if my involuntary muscles hug my new offspring.

“Hairy happy?” Phin’s quiet question and gentle caress bring me back to Earth.

“I’m so happy, I could fly,” I reply as soon as I catch my breath.

His sigh of relief melts my heart. Has no one accepted an egg from him? Did he fear I would be hurt? Were there risks no one told me about? I’m grateful Phin kept those answers to himself so I could enjoy our mating. He has proven he can protect me in all ways. Had he told me some horror story of a failed egg acceptance or birth, I would have blacked out with terror. I didn’t know to ask these questions—I still don’t want the answers.

“Are you ready for more?” He asks, even though I can feel his struggle to contain his second egg. My sweet, caring man holds back until I’m comfortable. I’m sure if I said I was done, he’d let the eggs drop to the floor. Despite them being the ultimate gift of love and commitment, he only wants to give me as much as I can take.

How can we be so in tune with one another when we’re different species?

“I want them all, Phin. Give me our family to carry, nourish, and mother. Let me grow to love them the way I will grow to love you.” My declaration of love isn’t to annoy Leopold.

This time, I mean it.