Patron Request: The Girl From Innsmouth

Filling in a monthly request for a new high-tier donor. I like how this one turned out, but fair warning; it’s intentionally uncomfortable in its descriptions! Nothing violent or filthy in itself, but there’s some mutations/deformities going on that are treated as such and regarded kindly by the other characters.

So I read about half of an anthology of Lovecraft’s stuff way back in college. This fic is super loosely based around Innsmouth, a spooky coastal town where everyone’s inbred mutant monsters that crossbred with fishmen centuries back. Idea is a guy dates a girl from there who’s acceptably human looking despite some distinctly malformed or fish-like features. It’s got a sweet overall message and I definitely got some visuals from the new Addams Family trailer.

"Nervous?" Tilda asked softly. She glanced at her boyfriend sitting in the driver's seat without having to turn her head. Her wide-set eyes were certainly out of place on a normal person. They were set farther apart and has this slightly glassy look, but Wayne felt like every girl had her quirks. Nobody was perfect, and it made her more charming and interesting. She wasn't about to win any beauty contests, but those things were full of boring and identical photocopies of magazine models. In his eyes, Matilda Fischman was sweet, charming and a genuine woman.

"Yea, a little. Meeting your folks and all. Who doesn't get nervous for that?" Tilda put her hand on his, her cool and slightly damp helping even his temperature out.

"I'm sure my family will love you," she said in her soft and throaty voice. Her hair was thin and curly to go with her overly damp and oily body. She grew it long to hide the lines in her pale skin, two on each side like a pair of sealed up and useless gills. She was skinny in some places while plump in others while scaly in others still. It was hard to pin her down into one body type, but Wayne figured all women had their hang ups about their bodies. He had a few more birthmarks than he'd like, but Tilda certainly accepted his flaws. Why not hers?

"That's good. They're not going to like... sacrifice me to anything? Eat me? Nothing like that."

"Oh, sweetie!" Tilda gave her high laugh, accompanied by the whistling sound coming through her narrow nose. "They won't harm a hair on your head if you're with me. Besides, at this season?! It would put the whole harvest out of sorts and just rile up the deep gods, and nobody wants that."

"If you say so," Wayne said with a sigh of relief. Tilda was the type to check off "Other" if an interview ever asked her religion. She said it went by Dagonism in her parts but it wasn't very widespread. Very old-fashioned, apparently. She would talk of festivals and temples and blood sacrifices in front of ancient totems on certain moons. She hadn't visited in years, which was how she met Wayne to begin with. She was "normal enough" to leave the town of Innsmouth and strike out on her own, and now they'd finally found enough time off of work to go visit her hometown.

Wayne didn't say anything, but as they pulled into town he could see where Tilda got her unique looks. She really was one of the better-looking of the locals as he saw them lurching through the streets. Tilda would stagger around some, but there was a man whose leg dragged behind him, so heavy and wet it dragged a snail trail on the cobblestones behind him. One woman had no hair at all, replaced by a long and bristling fin that vanished under her ragged dress. An older-looking man had a thick, extended jaw with drooling, needly fangs and eyes so big and glassy Wayne thought he could peek at his insides when the fishy man stared back. Wayne just did his best to keep his eyes to himself as he drove off to the Fischman estate closer to the water. From the looks of the monstrous and deformed people, it didn't surprise him that seaside property was so in demand.

Wayne carried their bags as he let Tilda lead the way with her brisk but hobbling walk. She was quick enough to keep up with him short of a jog, but her legs just moved in this jittery fashion. It was like she wasn't used to walking on land and was always panicking that she might fall over at any moment. They must have been watching for her because her parents opened the door as soon as she was on the front steps.

"Tilda, my wonderful girl! We missed you so!" her mother trilled in a bubbly voice. The woman was... almost less of a woman so much as she was an eel. She was tall but wiry, her back hunched and often wavering like a willow tree. Her skin and hair were outright oily compared to Tilda's clammy skin, as if she were smeared with some sort of clear jelly when she got out of bed. Her hair was troublingly pale and uneven, almost see-through against her dark dress. Her breasts were low and thin to a point of being withered despite her unclear age. Dark and squinty eyes fluttered at the two of them, or perhaps she was simply blinking rapidly in the foggy day's sunlight as her wide-lipped mouth smirked with crooked, needley teeth. She held out her arms and hugged Tilda with an audible SCHLAPP of her slimy hands, leaving some greasy smears in her wake.

"My sweet little pearl! How have you been?!" Her father was on the other end. While the mother resembled an eel in her build, he was more of a jellyfish or an angler. He wasn't simply obese so much as he was misshapen. A lump of a man whose whole body wobbled as he walked. Wayne could count exactly ten dark and wire-like hairs on his head, coiling off to one side like a heartless attempt at a combover. His lower jaw jutted out far enough to let his tongue never quite retract all the way into his mouth, sniffing and smacking his lips in between his words. His wide nose could barely keep the small set of spectacles on its bridge, and Wayne wailed to see how the small glasses served any purpose with his cream-colored, wide-set eyes so far from them. He wore a suit jacket and trousers that were obviously specially made to contain his squat shape and still had fat, pale flesh poking between the buttons. Tilda kissed him on the cheek with her thin lips, likely to avoid getting scraped up by his extended jaw and its thick teeth.

"Mother, father. This is Wayne. He's the outsider I told you so much about." Tilda gestured to the young man who followed a few steps behind her, smiling modestly as he carried their bags. Their excited smiles clearly changed as they sized him up. They acted as if Wayne were holding a flamethrower instead of luggage.

"An actual pureblood," the mother mused, stepping forward on dainty feet and boney ankles. "Hardly a lump or a bruise on him." She sniffed with her stubby, almost hog-like nose. "Rather fresh, too."

"Thank you, ma'am." Wayne didn't know what else to say as the squinty, skinny woman inspected him.

"Let the boy breathe a little, woman!" Despite his offer, the pungent smell of fish only grew stronger when her blubbery father stepped in. "Langdon Fischman. And this is my wife Svellia. A pleasure to see a new face around here. And one that's not too scaly and with some actual symmetry to it!" He let out a sputtering noise that seemed like a laugh as he clapped Wayne on the arm. Wayne laughed politely enough that he could bail out if he was wrong, but noted how her father's hand was barely one at all. It was a wretched stump, thick as wood and about as flexible with some failures of stumpy fingers barely protruding at the tip. He couldn't help but look to the mother for some kind of help. She just stroked her chin, spreading her fingers enough for Wayne to see the thin webbing running between them.

"Come along! No point standing out here with all that weight you're lugging around. Come in! Enjoy the splendor of Fischman manor!"

Wayne spent the night doing a lot of smiling and giving simple answers while staying as warm as possible. The place was like visiting the Addams Family but without the humor, any pretense that these were normal humans, or sanitation taken into account. The old house was moldy and creaked all over. Nautical themes were everywhere in the house, from the tentacle-shaped statue on the mantelpiece to the painting of a massive shipwreck underwater to the happy little fish stickers stuck to the shower walls. They ate bitter and undercooked fish for dinner, her parents sloppily devouring the meal while Tilda caught up on local news. Despite all their strangeness, their parents were clearly getting a read on him. They didn't ask him much, as if deciding what to ask or judging him based on his upright posture and lack of slime or scales. After dinner and some surprisingly good booze, Wayne put together an excuse to head to bed early after their long trip.

"Naturally, naturally," Langdon bubbled around his drooling fangs. "Lots of rest is needed to sustain the lineage and all that."

"Excuse me?" Wayne asked, too dumbfounded to realize he didn't want to hear any more.

"Oh, dear, it's clear you two have fallen for each other," Svellia purred, resting a bony, webbed hand on her husband's shoulder. "I see how you look at each other. I had the same look in my eyes when I first set eyes on my cousin." Wayne just bit his tongue and nodded. That explained a lot.

"So what we're saying is, in our own little way, welcome to the family, my boy! We expect whole swarms of grandchildren with a healthy specimen such as yourself."

"Oh, father!" Tilda laughed, giving him a playful and jiggle-inducing shove. "Let him be! But thank you."

"Well just remember, the temple's just up the road. Full moon tomorrow, so the orgy in the pool is open invitation."

"Father, really!" Tilda scoffed and took Wayne by the hand. "Goodnight, the both of you. We're heading to bed."

Tilda led her boyfriend to one of the guest bedrooms, shutting the door behind them before glancing at him from the corner of her off-center eye. "Are they too much?"

"They're fine!" Wayne insisted quickly. "They're really... well, I get all those old in-laws jokes comedians talk about now." Tilda gave another whistling laugh as his girlfriend came over and wrapped her hands around his waist, pressing her head against his chest for a clammy hug. He stroked a hand through her greasy, stringy hair.

"Thank you. You always were such an understanding sweetheart." She smiled wide enough to bare her crooked teeth behind her thin lips. He kissed her lightly on the mouth despite the slightly sticky sensation of it all.

"For you, fish lips? You're worth a hundred times worse than all this." Tilda's pale skin blushed brightly on her pale and clammy skin, but she pressed herself more aggressively against him. She kissed him firmly and walked into him, surprisingly strong for her malnourished-looking body. Her arms squeezed him until his back cracked and her thin legs with the fat thighs pushed into him until he fell back onto the bed. That was one more thing he loved about Tilda: it was easy to turn her on and she was very blunt about telling him so.

Tilda mounted Wayne's hips, kissing him rapidly with her soft and crooked lips. He ran his hands down her greasy hair and the fleshy ridges of her vestigial gills, cupping under her breasts that were decently sized but soft and saggy for her age. His hands went on down the familiar body, brushing past the scaly patches around her belly as her flabby thighs (despite how bony the rest of her legs were) hugged around his hips. It pressed her crotch against his, and whatever had brought on her unusual looks, her fishy bloodline had never failed to have her wet at the slightest prospect of sex.

Wayne started to slide her up and down in his lap as he kissed her, sliding his tongue between her stubby and crooked teeth. He slid his hand under her dress, sliding her panties down from her wide hips. He felt her unusually thin midsection as her wriggling made her ribs and spine brush against his hand. Tilda's moan turned into a giggle as she drooled over his mouth and cheek, blinking her wide-set eyes as she smiled down at him. "Just something in the air back home," she mused quietly as she slid out of her panties, tugging off her boyfriend's shirt. As strange as the house and her family was, his erection wouldn't let him pass up on his uniquely sexy girlfriend.

He soon had her undressed and on top of him, her boney fingers resting on his thighs. Tilda licked her full lips and leaned in, pushing her creamy pale hips back at Wayne as she pulled his cock into her mouth. Her slimy tongue covered it in her drool as she wrapped her thin digits around his balls. Wayne returned the favor as he pried at her pussy lips beneath her fleshy ass, licking at the cool and runny fluids inside her pussy.

She always had this potent smell, not quite fishy but more of a raw meat than actual flesh or arousal. Her womanhood was never as warm as he remembered from other girls and her pudgy pussy lips overlapped, but none of that had stopped them before. He planted his mouth around her pussy just as she slid his cock into that sweet spot she used, rubbing his cockhead against a gap in her teeth as it pushed out her upper lip. Her rubbed her pale ass and thighs until her hips started to pump, easily excited as he teased her oversized clit nearly the size of his thumb. He gently caught it between his lips and tongued his cock as she pumped her head more rapidly, riled up and giving these low, primitive grunts as she humped his mouth. Wayne gasped and grabbed her by the ass cheeks as he came into her mouth. Tilda's hungry slurps filled the room to show her appreciation, followed shortly by her own peculiar orgasm.

Wayne flinched as it burst forth, but he was used to seeing it by now. Her bulging eyes had teared up when it happened during their first time. He'd consoled her and told her it was fine, and that it didn't make her any less beautiful to him. And it was true. All he really did differently was make sure that they brought a few spare towels when they went on trips. He had slid one under his head when he laid underneath her, so when her orgasm came bursting forth, the red and rubbery eggs coated in slime bounced off his face and fell onto the towel. Tilda moaned as she kept sucking on his cock adoringly and Wayne wiped the cool, pungent mess off his face.

"You did the towel, right?" she asked quietly. Wayne nodded and patted her on the flank.

"Yea. I gotcha girl." She sighed and slid off of him as he sat up and picked up the towel, balancing them on it and taking them to flush down the toilet as usual. He was a gentleman, and if anyone had to get rid of her unfertilized mutated fish eggs it was him. He returned to hug his girl's naked body, itching around her scales like she liked as the inbred love of his life sighed and leaned against him.

"Thank you for all of this," Tilda sighed, wrapping her strong but boney arms around him. "You put up with so much for me."

"Ah, you're worth it. I never would have known if I liked caviar if I didn't meet you."

Tilda gave him a firm punch in the arm as she smiled at his joke. She started to get dressed but as she opened her bag she gave a high-pitched shriek. It might have sounded monstrous to anyone else but Wayne smiled as she found his surprise. "Wayne! Did you really!?" She ran back with the case containing the engagement ring he'd snuck in there. The one with the diamond shaped like a dolphin.

"I did. So..." He plucked it from her claws and knelt down. "I got your parents' blessing, so in front of your family and your god... thing. Or whatever... would you marry me?" He slipped it on just before Tilda grabbed his face and kissed him, pushing her swollen tongue into his mouth. He just laughed and hugged her as he took it as a yes.

"Oh my Dagon!" Tilda finally gasped as she pulled back from the kiss. "I can't believe you! I... I need to show mother!"

"Are they still home? They mentioned the... uh..." Wayne trailed off, still smiling from her acceptance of his proposal.

"The temple! Of course." Tilda threw on her nightgown and grabbed Wayne's hand, giving him a huge and crooked smile. "Let's hurry. They're probably only just starting the orgy. They'll be thrilled! Don't bother with your pants!"