Morgan: Chapter 6 (Reader Plus CYOA) (Patreon)

In the light of the candles Morgan crafts her magical concoction.  In the dancing light of the dying fire and the flicker of the candles her tall, powerful naked body looked like that of a goddess.  After cleaning yourself of her seed properly with a wet cloth and drying off you approach her to stand at her shoulder.  Using a nut pick she slowly stirs and blend of dried and crushed leaves, water, and of course your semen in a tablespoon that she held over the flame of one of the candles.  The aroma was that of fresh cum but far more pungent.  Each time it would boil down a little she would pull it from the flame to add either a bit more sperm or a bit more water then start again.

“This will help me sleep?”  You ask, equally fascinated and dubious of what you were witnessing.

“No, but it will hold the dreams at bay once you are down.”  She answers.

“I can’t believe there’s magic in my, erm, cum.”

“Magic?  There is a miracle in your seed.”  She says.  “Half of one at least.  Sperm plus egg equals life.  Not even the mightiest magic can do that.”

“I…never thought about it like that.”

“Don’t worry.”  She says as pulls the spoon off the flame for the last time.  She sprinkles some sort of powder into it which makes the magic detecting mold in the corner shimmer every so lightly.  A zesty lemon-like aroma zings down your nostrils.  “You do not need to believe it for it to work.”  She places the spoon into the small cup of water she’d been using and stirs her witch’s brew into it then passes it to you.  “Drink.”

You take the cup and look down into the cloudy liquid and take in the not unpleasant citrus smell.  Not waiting to see if you drink or not she sets to cleaning up her work and sealing away the cum she’d collected from you.  Yesterday it would have taken a sizable amount of cash to make you gulp down a cum cocktail.  But with Morgan’s salty load still lingering on your palate your horizon of what was acceptable had shifted significantly.  Besides, if this weird elixir kept the nightmares away, after the day you’d had, it was worth its weight in rubies.  You take a tiny sip to test it.

“Ugh.”  Your face twists as an intense kale-like bitterness assaults your senses.  Though the water had been tepid it feels like hot tea coursing down your throat.  “Ulgh.  Smells better than it tastes.”

“That’s the thanks I get?”  Morgan gropes your ass and gives it a swat.  “Picky little cum guzzler you are, ain’t ya?”

You guffaw at the unexpected grope and ‘cum guzzler’ quip.  “I didn’t mean…”

“Drink your cum shot and grab some shuteye.”  She begins to blow out the candles then says after the last one. “Good night Ashe.”

“Oh…um, good night Morgan.”

You watch her stride away to disappear into the inky darkness of the next room.  You stand there a moment suddenly feeling terribly alone.  You stare at the dwindling flames in the fireplace for a few minutes then down to your cup then over to the sofa where you had just experienced the orgasm of your life then sucked a woman’s cock.  Bitter or no you down your medicine in a single swig.

“Gllgh!”  You shudder in revulsion as the mouth drying bitterness washes down to your belly.  You set down the cup and turn to the sofa…though your eyes drift once more to the black gap in the wall.  Not one step do you take toward the sofa making directly for Morgan instead.

What waits for you is near total darkness.  The meager light of the fire not able to reach around the corners into the room beyond.  In that impenetrable black you hear her voice off to your right.

“Here.”  She says.

You follow the sound and feel your way along the wall until you find an open doorway.  Hands out in front of you you enter the room blindly and soon find the wooden footboard of a narrow single bed.  Getting down onto your hands and knees you crawl along the side of it and come to sit about halfway up.

“Morgan?”  You whisper as very subtle shapes slowly form in the gloom as your eyes adjust.

“What is it Ashe?”

“Morgan.”  You say.  “May I…sleep with you?”

“I told you that you were welcome.”  She says.  “It will be cramped but manageable.”

You hesitate despite her permission.  “Morgan?”

“What’s wrong Ashe?”

“Would you…hold…hold me?”  You tremble.  “Could you hold me tonight?”

“Ashe…”

“I’m scared.”  You confess.  “I know I can’t be soft anymore but…I’m…I’m…”

“Ashe.”  She says again more forcefully.  A triangle of white sheets appear as she pulls the blankets open for you.  “Get in.”

She shifts over to make room as you crawl into the already warm bed.  “Thank you.”  You whisper as she pulls the blankets over you and wraps an arm around you in one motion.  The moment that you feel the warmth of her naked flesh against yours the trembling stops.  You let out a long breath, your muscles relaxing, as Morgan holds you just like you needed her to.

“You’re going to be a needy one, aren’t you?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”  She says.  “Better I know it early.”  She nuzzles into your cheek as her body presses into you and her strong arm squeezes you.  “Mmm.  If this is what my lucky charm needs to get a good night sleep I am not going to complain.  Better sleep, better chance of survival.”  She kisses your cheek.  “Besides, you feel good.  Mmmm.”

You wriggle in tighter to her, in the process slyly turning to give her your back.  Without hesitation she spoons in behind you, her arm around your chest, her soft breasts tight to your shoulder blades, and her thick, flaccid cock nestling between your buttocks.  Her nose tickles the hairs at the back of your neck and her warm breath washes across your shoulder again…and again…and again.  In her warm embrace under the same cozy cocoon of blankets the rest of this dreadful world just melts away.  Oh yes.  Oh yes.  Ohhhh yes.  This is what you needed.

“Thank you.”

“Shhh.”  She settles in to get comfortable.  “Sleep.”

After a long, deep breath you let all of the terror and tension of the day leech away and focus your mind on the soft, steady sound of Morgan’s breath.

***

The very next second, or so it felt to you, you were opening your eyes upon a new day.  You were alone in the bed and the flicker of candlelight could be seen coming from the basement over.  True to her word Morgan’s not only prevented you from dreaming but also denied you the sense of any passing of time while you were under.  You weren’t sure how long you were out but you felt…reborn.  Bodily you were rested and mentally you no longer felt like were standing on the precipice of losing your shit completely.

Sitting up you rub your face and look around.  There was no sign of your bedmate though you could still smell her on the blankets.

“Morgan?”

No answer.

Concern beginning to rise you get up and pad out to the main room.  The candles were lit but there was still no sign of her.  You do notice that her clothes were gone as was her boots and rifle.  She must have gone out.  You find your underwear and slip into them but look at your shorts and t shirt knowing they were not up to the task of dealing with the weather out there.  You collect your pistol, multitool and phone but leave the rest behind.  Taking up one of the candles you search the supplies for appropriate attire.  The fit wasn’t perfect but you manage to find among the hodgepodge of clothing some winter boots, long underwear, jeans, wool socks, under sweater, over sweater, and warm hooded jacket.

It was while you were dressing that you feel a frigid wind blow through the outside door and down the series of connected basements to reach you four houses over.

“I’m here.”  You call to Morgan.  “I’ve found some better clothes.”  You zip up the beige jacket and give it a satisfactory tug.  “These will do nicely.”  You pocket your tool and phone then start looking over some of the other supplies.  “Hey.  Whatever you gave me last night worked like a charm.  I don’t think I’ve ever slept better.  There is no response, likely because she was too far away to make out your voice.  But as the cold wind continues to blow unabated a different kind of chill crawls up your spine.  Slowly turning your head you look to the tunneled out section of wall.  “Morgan?”

A spattering of mold growing across the ceiling begins to glow.

“Ashe-ashe-sha-sha-shahhh.”  The rasping, rattling, ragged voice that replies was not hers.  Your throat constricts, your breath catches, and your heart seizes a moment as the sound of strangely irregular shuffling steps approaches from the next room over!  There is a labored gurgling intake of air before again.  “Ashe-ashe-sha-sha-shahhh.”

Left and right your eyes dart around the shelves of survival supplies.  They quickly settle on the pistol that you’d set down there just minutes ago.  Grabbing it in shaking hands you spin and aim it for the opening in the wall.  Unfortunately in your frantic haste you knock the candle over that had been providing you what light there was in this room.  Just before it hits the floor it goes out to plunge the room in near darkness.  Only the light from the distant open door that wended its way from the open outside door through the various layers of walls gives you anything to see by.  The light rose and fell as the shuffling thing cast its shadow.  Trembling like a leaf in the breeze you steady your pistol and ready yourself.

The first thing through opening was a hand, its bloodied fingers curling around the lip of the hole to take a hold.  This is followed by another hand…and another…and another and another and another!  Ten, twelve hands grasp the wall before a grotesquely bloated face peers into the room, its bloody red eyes in search of you.

The monster draws a wet, burbling breath then shutters violently as it opens its mouth.  Black-red gore streaks through its stained teeth and down its chin as it belches.  “Ashe-ashe-sha-sha-shahhh.”

Frozen in terror you gawk at the horrific monstrosity as it fills the opening.  Hunched over and constantly spasming as if in some sort of soul-searing pain the creature was at least eight foot tall and made up of the imperfectly melded together pieces of rent humanity.  The torso was bulbous and looked like four or five lumps of clay smashed together, if those lumps of clay were human torsos, male and female both, and oozing with ichor.  Sharp, broken bones pierced through the skin in dozens of places.  From this quivering mass of flesh sprouted five legs off the bottom and a porcupine’s coat of grasping arms off the sides and back.  Each arm had a hand at its end and each leg had a foot, but there were extra hands and feet where they ought not to be.  Suddenly you wished that Morgan hadn’t given you her potion.  At least then you could have met your death believing this to be a nightmare until the very end.  But your teetering sanity hadn’t even that fantasy to hide in.  As terrible and wretched as the malformed monstrosity was it was the face…the face!  NO!

“Mike!?”  You gasp.

At the sound of your voice the jittering thing turns its head your way.  As it does so more light from behind falls across its lumpy visage.  The extra light reveals precisely what you did not want it to.  Misshapen and mashed as it was, there was no mistaking the face of your security guard friend whom had taken this journey through the Seep with you.

“No!  No!”  You shake your head.  “It can’t be!  I watched you die!”

“Ashe-ashe-sha-sha-shahhh.”  Only now do you realize that he was calling your name.

“God no.  NO!”  You aim as best you can at his tortured features and find yourself unable to shoot.  You lower the pistol for its body instead.  You squeeze the trigger of your pistol.  His pistol actually.  Nothing happens.  The safety!

“Ashe-ashe-sha-sha-shahhh.”  It vomits its word along with bile smelling gore and moves into the room.  Desperately you fumble at your weapon in search of the safety.

Just then something is hurled into the room to clatter into the wall opposite you.  In the dim light you can just make out the 4 ounce container of your semen fall to the ground lidless, its gooey contents oozing out onto the floor.  As the muck spreads it sort of sizzles and the magic detecting mold on the roof flares to life.

Bones crunch as the Mike creature’s head snaps to the source of the sound.  It’s nostrils flare unnaturally large as it sucks air.  “Ashe-ashe-sha-sha-shahhh.”  It shambles off in that direction.

Stepping into the entrance is a grim faced Morgan, her violet eyes locked on the creature.  She makes no sound as she holds a finger to her lips, indicating silence, then waves for you to escape behind her.  You don’t have to be told twice.

As the monster begins thrashing about, tearing apart shelves and furniture in search for you, you make your escape.  Once you were past her Morgan turns to follow hard on your heels.  You don’t stop until you are outside.  Morgan spins and closes and latches the door.  On the door she scrawls a hasty X with some sort of red pigment.

“I found its trail this morning while I was packing up.”  Morgan swears under her breath.  “I was tracking it when it circled back.”

“Th-That was Mike.”  You huff through panting breaths.

“So you do know it?”  She says.  “Shit.”

“Yes!  That was Mike!”  You stagger back.  “Oh my God!”

“Hold it together Ashe.”  She snaps.  “Tell me.  Were you the last thing Mike saw before he died?”

“Uh…yeah.  Yeah.”  You stammer.  “We were looking right at each other…when…oh God!  Mike!”

She grabs you and gives you a shake.  “Ashe.  Listen.  You’re being hunted and that trick won’t hold it for long.  We’ve got to move.”

You nod.  “Ok-kay.”

She turns and marches toward her beast of burden which was already loaded and ready for the road.  You hurry to walk alongside of her, occasionally glancing back toward the stairs where you knew that thing was lurking.  Around you the day was similar to yesterday.  Gray, cold, with a stinging sleety-snow on the wind.

“This camp is burned.”  She mutters under her breath.  “And we dare not lead it to another.  Fuck.  As if we didn’t have enough to deal with.”  She glances over at you.  “I might have jumped the gun dubbing you lucky.”

“C-Can’t you fight it somehow?”

“Me?”  She says as she tugs her beast’s horn to get it moving.  “No Ashe.  This is a foe I cannot kill.”  She looks over square into your eyes.  “A Hellhound can only be killed by its prey.  And in this case that means you Lucky.”

“Me!?”

“You’ve got a Hellhound on your trail lad.”  She says grimly.  “It won’t stop hunting you until it dies or you do.”

“We…We hide.”

“It followed you here from the Seep.  It’s attuned to you.  It will eventually find you.  It exists only to absorb you.  Until it has you it will not stop.”  She says.  “And that trick I just used probably won’t work again.  They learn.  They adapt.”  She takes a breath.  “If I was smart I’d leave you now.”  There was something in the bluntly stoic way she said that that made you think that she was actually considering it.

“Morgan?”

“Let’s just move.”  She says as she hurries the pace.  “We’ll put some miles in while we think.  Hounds can move quick in a sprint but over distance they don’t move fast.”

You fall silent and follow behind Morgan as this new fearsome predicament weighs on your soul.

Chapter 7