Not So Different, yet as Different as Can Possibly Be

4-The Goddess and the Devoted

   /////CONTENT WARNING, this story has tentacles and butt stuff happening to a guy. A lot of us are into that (guilty), but not everyone. Pure smut this week lasses, lads, and others./////

   The young man could see nothing, the bag over his head creating a musty stench that he was not fond of. The gag in his mouth made him drool a little, and his shirtless torso made him shiver from the cold. He heard their voices, the women who kidnapped him, among the voices of many others. They were chanting in tandem with each other, in a language his brain was desperately trying to keep out.

   The arcane words made his head hurt.

   After the chanting had died down, he heard only one voice. Her high pitched voice made it sound like she was four foot nothing, yet it was strong and compelling. She sounded like she was in charge.

   "Oh great Cthylla!" she began, "we show patronage to you this day. Oh mother and daughter to The Great Dreamer in his house of R'lyeh, your mighty vision has provided us with power and peace beyond measure."

   "So this is a cult," he thought to himself. Well, then what was he doing here? Why had they kidnapped him?

   And so, on tonight on all nights," she continued, "while the stars are still right, we offer you this sacrifice, to appease. . ."

   Sacrifice!?! He was to be sacrificed? He began to struggle and jerk away from them, but a set of strong hands pushed him back onto his knees. "I swear, lady," he thought to himself, "if my hands weren't tied you'd be catching them."

   "Open the door!" the voice commanded. He heard a very loud scraping sound, like stone on stone. He was then pulled to his feet and pushed forward. He felt the air around him get even colder as he was finally pushed back onto his knees. The floor was harder her, made of cold wet stone.

   He blinked hard as the bag was pulled from his head and light finally entered his eyes. He looked around to find himself in a large cavern with only one entrance, and a dozen or so torches lining the walls. He watched in horror as the cultists ran out the opening and hastily shut a set of large stone doors.

   He quickly got on his feet, his mouth still gagged and his hands still tied behind his back, and ran to the door. He put his full strength against it, but to no avail. He had never been a very strong man, and he was not very tall either.

   He stopped pushing, seeing no use on it, and took stock of the cavern. There were no other entrances or exits, and there was nothing else here but the torches and a small pool of water, about five feet across. Well, at least he wouldn't thirst to death.

   He walked over to the pool to begin drinking, and bent over it as best as he could. He took a sip through the gag, and then spat it back out. Saltwater. Seawater. He was going to thirst to death.

   He looked into the pool, and saw only a black abyss. And when you look into the abyss, it looks back into you. He stared harder, and what he saw made his blood run cold.

   The abyss had green glowing eyes.

   He lept back and fell on his rump as something dragged itself out of the pool. It towered over him, though this wasn't hard to do. It appeared relatively human in shape from neck to waist, but anything bellow or above that was not human at all.

   The things lower body was a mass of eight suckered tentacles that connected in a short bell starting at its hips. It slipped and slithered its way towards him on these as it stretched out its membranes wings. Its head was that of an octopus, with eyes that glowed a neon lime green.

   It's body then lit up like a Christmas tree with neon bands of different colors that moved around in its skin in a chaotic chromatic pattern. It kept moving towards him, but now the colorful display had him mesmerized and he stopped trying to escape. It held out a clawed and webbed hand, and in one swift motion, cut the gag in his mouth.