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Monster's Mate

By: LaurieBaker
folder Erotica › General
Rating: Adult ++
Chapters: 14
Views: 43,491
Reviews: 57
Recommended: 1
Currently Reading: 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
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Another Island

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of this story, either the ones from the H.G. Wells novel, or Lady_DiMera's characters. I make no profit from this fanfic. The 'add a chapter' option was open for other writers, and I could not resist an addition. If it is not desired, please delete it.

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More Disclaimer: Bestiality



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Lucinda balked when she stepped from the carriage. The door was before a pier, extending across the dark, ominous harbot to a tramp steamer. Boris swept nonchalantly around her (as much as the misshapen man could sweep, that is) and carried the bags to the gangplank.



She caught at the Mad Scientist's arm as he also passed. "We're not going to Skull Island again, are we?" Her voice quavered, and the Mad assumed it was from fear.



"Not likely," he grunted. "Half of that 'buried gold' they had turned out to be useless pyrite. It'll be a while before you're subject to that beast again." He jerked her arm to drag her towards the ship.



His creation was torn between relief and disappointment. Though she was, in that ape's hands, probably at her greatest peril, she often found herself revisiting the scene. The challenge of the mechanics of sex with a giant fired her imagination, and stoked her fires, as it were. Still, if they weren't going, they weren't going.



"But where are we going?" she asked.



"Middle of freaking nowhere," Boris answered, going back to the pier for another load.



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On the rail, Lucinda watched the backs of sporting dolphins escorting the bow of the ship. As before, the long journey by water was relaxing and refreshing for her. Her master, however, chafed at what he felt was a delay. Only the smallest of his experiments could be attempted in the holds of the vessel. His 'great works' lay in wait back at the castle. As did his fiance.



"Crap," he often muttered. "I should have brought Elizabeth with us. Or Boris. Anything but leave the two of them alone." Privately, Lucinda felt that it was the Monster and Elizabeth who were probably using the time to good advantage.



And if the Good Doctor was too busy planning a trip, and the collection of fees, to figure out his love life, well, he deserved what he got. Or, what he wasn’t getting, more likely.



So, she avoided him, and the taciturn crew, and watched the waves. Thus, Lucinda was the first aboard to actually sight the island they were landing at. Lush and green, with many colorful birds in the huge trees, it looked like a vacation spot.



She smiled, enchanted and entranced by the setting. Nothing truly bad could happen here, she felt.



A man named Edward Prendick welcomed them at the ramshackle wharf. Well, he welcomed the Mad Scientist. They assured themselves that each was the man the other had been in correspondence with and fell to talking shop.



The two of them paid Lucinda no more heed than the luggage the sailors piled on the planks.



The deck hands themselves spent more time watching the tree line than any of the land lubbers. Once they had offloaded the guests and their things, they gathered line and gangway and shoved off.



"Right back here on Sunday!" the Scientist shouted after them. A hand waving from the quarterdeck either acknowledged the order, consented to the agreement or perhaps invited the man to go fuck himself with an especially limp penis.



Lucinda amused herself imagining the gruff captain of the craft relaying the last message in his guttural English. "You chood take th' great, hewge, but limp mancock, and chuve it up, whay up, your own arse whole."



Then it was time to go up to The Compound. Prendick gestured at the trees and men came to collect their things.



By calling them 'men,' the made-woman realized how liberal her use of the term had become over her second life. Great hairy brutes, they were, shambling over the beach to the walkway.



They knuckled their foreheads to the two European men, in what was almost a mockery of kowtowing, but it seemed sincerely meant. At least, Prendick accepted it. The Mad, of course, hardly noticed it.



The working crew wove among the bags, eyeing and sniffing at each piece, selecting them by no means she could discern. Once they were all hoisted, the entire party began walking.



At the end of a well-worn path, a palisade protected a large compound of buildings. The baggage was sent within a modern looking bungalow, while their host led Lucinda and her master towards a more roughly fashioned barn.



She caught up to overhear their conversation.



"The trick of it is in the procreation," Prendick was saying. She felt a thrill run through her. Procreation was a significant part of what she was made for. Was this place some sort of fertility clinic? Could they make her more receptive?



And was that a good thing? Or bad?



"Yes, yes," Master agreed. "I have the same concerns for my own works."



"So, your product makes a perfect venue for the validation of the Great Work I inherited."



"Quite. Now, there's the matter of the fee…"



"All prepared," he was assured. "The set amount per partner…"



'Per Partner?' Lucinda thought with horror as the negotiations continued. Just how many partners were to be involved?



As she was distracted, she didn't notice the Mad Scientist sweeping her up in his arm until her feet left the floor.



"Master? What is happening?"



"Nothing you need to worry about," he replied. "Just lay there and take it. Should be the easiest job you've had yet." She was shackled to a table of familiar design.



Her arms were bound at the elbow, her legs at the knees. The limbs were positioned so that she could reach her own breasts, but nothing else. And everything, anything, could reach her pussy, with her thighs as far apart as was possible to be.



"The test is of two parts," the host lectured from a worktable just out of her view. She heard glass and metal clinking together. There was no question that she was being tested, though. Prendick wasn't talking to her at all.



"The first is that they find her attractive. They must be close enough to human to select her as a possible breeding partner. The next, of course, is the successful mixing of their blood with the blood of a man."



Lucinda worried at the 'human enough' image far more than the mention of blood mixing. Then she realized it was more about blood lines than blood letting. She started to relax when Prendick turned around.



In his hand was an incredibly long, skinny dildo. She felt a quiver in her pussy and realized the day was looking up.



"This," he told her Master, "is based on the design of a cicada's ovipositor."



"They burrow into twigs with that to deposit their eggs, don't they?"



"Exactly," he nodded. Stepping between her parted legs, he laid the rubber tip at her pussy lips. She felt herself open up to the man-shaped tool. "It will deposit an egg in the perfect position for the testing. I work mostly with mammals, but insects do have a thing or two to teach us."



Long and endless, it pressed past her lips, up her cunt, and into her very womb. But it was so thin it was more frustrating than filling. She mentioned it. Both men gave a start, as if they were surprised she was able to talk.



"It's for science, bitch," Master informed her, "not for your pleasure."



"Quite, Master," she agreed. There was a strange pulse along the length, then the device was withdrawn.



"Now, a ready egg, in a block of fertility gel, lies at the position of delivery. The gel guides the sperm in place, and allows recovery.



Prendick went to the door of the barn and opened it. One of the crew entered and stepped up to her. Up close, she saw that hair covered his face, almost a fur with circular patterns.



Then he smiled and she saw his fangs. This man was more creature than man! The great cat, for she could no longer see it as anything but a leopard shaped as a human, sniffed at her crotch.



A great, wide tongue slipped out and licked at her, from as far down her ass crack as it could reach to the top of her pussy and beyond. It was roughly surfaced, like sandpaper, but soft and wet. The result was more of a tickling than a scratching.



She moaned and raised herself up to meet the touch.



There was a groan…no, a purr, from the cat-man. He stepped up onto a ledge of the table, bringing his cock against her. But he was limber enough to still lick at her while he was plunging his dick into her.



The sensation was the greatest she'd ever felt. Small nubs on his cock, like soft hooks, marked his passage in and out of her pussy, the tongue worried at her clit, and both hands raised to squeeze and rub her boobs. She melted, she flowed, she floated on the almost physical sense of contentment.



He plunged and filled her, he licked her open and apart, and he tugged her tits towards the sky. She moaned in time with his growls and purrs, then his claws dug in.



Pumping furiously, he arched his back, lifted his muzzle to the air and screamed. She screamed with him, their mutual orgasm almost shaking the table apart.



As he collapsed across her lap, he gazed at her through half-closed eyes. She smiled back. Befor he could respond, though, a whip struck. Prendick drove the beast out of the barn, closed the door and shot the bolt.



The dildopositor was reinserted, this time sucking the gel droplet out. He threw a switch in the vicinity of where the thing's testicles would be, then another pulse deposited another droplet.



Then the door was opened again. A man with actual bull horns on his forehead strode confidently to the table. One sniff of her, though, and he shook his head.



"What is it? What's wrong, Amos?" Prendick asked.



"It is the law," it, he replied. "Not to go on All-Fours, Not to suck up Drink, Not to eat Fish or Flesh, Not to Fuck Hot Totty."



"Yes, yes," Prendick agreed, "but this isn't The House Woman. This is for you."



"For me?"



"For all of you, Amos. All of you get to fuck the Special Totty. Just this once."



"Ah."



And with that, he was upon her. For some reason, Amos paid more attention to her breasts. A great tongue, bigger than the cat man's, lapped across her boobs, side to side. Then he licked at her ribs, stopping with an odd look on his face.



Lucinda realized he was expecting her to have four teats. She smiled encouragingly up at him. "It's alright," she assured him. "Fuck me anyway."



A short, smooth, but inhumanly wide cock came out of his filthy clothes. He smiled, then spit on his hands to rub it across the surface.



"Oh, that's so sweet," she told him. "Where did you learn to lubricate yourself for me?" It was quite unnecessary, of course, but it was a sweet gesture.



And a dangerous one, from the look of appraisal in Prendick's eyes. But they forgot about him. Amos bent back down and started to fuck her.



He began gently, easing the tip along her lips, then more and more pressingly between them. Fashioned as she was for sex, she still felt challenged by the girth of her newest lover. The tenderness he showed was more than welcome, it was frankly necessary.



He came, grunting loudly, without her. She felt the need, quivering hard between her thighs, but there was a good chance it wouldn't last.



Amos kissed her belly, pulled up his pants, and stalked off.







This time, the dildo was just what she needed. By chance, it brushed her frustrated clit on the way in and she clenched it tightly as she came. Prendick was astonished at her grip, but frustrated that he couldn’t move his probe.



"Dammit, bitch, we have twenty more to do today! I promised them a treat, and they will not wait all night!"



Slowly, her cunt muscles relaxed, the gel was exchanged, the schedule continued.



She wasn't sure about who all, or what all, she fucked after that. There was a sweaty man whose penis coiled like a corkscrew.



A very tall man may have been a giraffe at one time. He stood so tall, only the very tip of his penis actually entered her. She had to work to rub high enough up for it to be worth their while.



Towards the evening, a man with ovine features actually turned her down. She didn't smell right. Prendick shook his head at the failure, sent the worker to 'see Guido,' an obvious euphemism.



And the last man was more gorilla than anything else. After her day spent servicing King Kong, she was surprised at the size of his penis. Later she learned that most of the great apes have only a half-inch penis.



But what he lacked in length, he made up for with enthusiasm. Fucking away at her pussy, his great forearms ripped her up from the table, sending shredded bits of restraint banging around the walls. The table would have to be rebuilt before the morrow's sessions.



Lucinda relaxed lazily among the splintered remains of the table as they drove the last monster out. After the long-term celibacy of the trip out, the attentions of Prendick's beasts had fulfilled her needs admirably.



She could hardly wait to see what the menagerie had in store for tomorrow.
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