Taming the Naughty Monster Girls

by Reed James

  Taming the Naughty Monster Girls

  King of the Monster Girl Harem 1

  by

  Reed James

  Copyright © 2019 by Reed James

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the expressed written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. Published in the United States of America, 2019

  All characters depicted in this work of fiction are over the age of eighteen (18).

  Cover Art: Delacroix Legion

  Cover Layout: Amber Naralim

  Logo © Anton Brand | Dreamstime.com

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  Taming the Naughty Monster Girls

  Naughty Excerpt from “Taming the Naughty Monster Girl”

  Other Fantasy Stories

  Chapter One: Taming the Naughty Lamia

  Chapter Two: Naughty Lamia's Bondage Delight

  Chapter Three: Monster Girl's Naughty Passion

  Chapter Four: Naughty Lamia's Knightly Surprise

  Chapter Five: The Dryad's Creamy Delight

  Chapter Six: Taming the Fiery Monster Girl

  Naughty Excerpt from “Taming the Naughty Monster Girl”

  “What a way to go,” I said. My grin spread. “But I am afraid I have to decline the popping part. At least for my spine. I'll be willing to pop my cum off in you.”

  Her tongue flickered faster.

  Then she was on me. She moved fast. I swung my staff, sweeping the frigid wood through the air. Mist swirled around the end of the staff. She blocked with her forearm and hissed as the ice burst across her skin before melting into beading water. Her eyes narrowed as she slithered to the right.

  My gray robe swirled about me as I shifted. Her arms slashed at me, purple claws slicing for my face. I swung my staff. The loud smack and crackle of frost filled the air. She hissed, pain flashing across her face.

  “I'm a girl! You shouldn't hit me!” she hissed. “So mean!”

  Her tail flicked out at me, thick and fast. It blurred at me. I groaned as I struggled to block her. But I couldn't. She slammed into me. I grunted, the wind bursting from my lungs. Pain throbbed up my bruised chest. I stumbled back, my heart pounding as the adrenaline burned through me.

  “Damn,” I muttered as her tail swiped in again.

  I moved in time. I slammed my staff into her scaled tail. Frost spread over her purple, swallowing it with misty white. She hissed, her tail flinching back from me. Steam rose in the air. She scurried to the right, her scales rasping on the hard-packed dirt, her breasts heaving as she sought to flank me.

  I grunted, ignoring the bruise throbbing my side as I spun around, following her progress. I thrust the butt of my staff at her, striking straight at her torso. It caught her in the stomach. She gasped, her tits bouncing as she let out a loud cough. She doubled over, her eyes fluttering. Her purple hair swept about her head.

  “Stop being such a dummy!” she moaned. “Just let me mate with you.” Anger flashed across her face. “You're more than mean. You're terrible! You're a terrible, horrible bully!”

  To find out what happens next, read on!

  Other Fantasy Stories

  The Rogue's Harem 1: Rogue's Sultry Women

  The Rogue's Harem 2: Rogue's Wicked Harem

  The Rogue's Harem 3: Rogue's Passionate Harem

  The Knight and the Acolyte 1: The Acolyte's Passion

  The Knight and the Acolyte 2: The Mage's Passion

  The Knight and the Acolyte 3: The Thief's Passion

  The Knight and the Acolyte 4: The Shaman's Passion

  The Knight and the Acolyte 5: The Knight's Passion

  Chapter One: Taming the Naughty Lamia

  Garin Malicheste – Usain, Kingdom of Arthas

  My fingers twitched in time to the whistle blowing from my lips. An excitement beat through me. My blood surged as I rode my horse, Intrepid, down the the road. The villagers streamed up the same road, flowing from Usain, a look of panic on their pale faces. They were Arthaian, like me, with their hair a mix of light brown and blondes. The women wore theirs in dual braids that fell down their backs, the men's shorn short.

  They were an exodus fleeing their fishing village. Usain, lying on the Bay of Corvinus, was a scattering of ramshackle buildings radiating out from the rickety fishing docks. The land sloped down towards the blue sea, a slope the frightened villagers had to battle up. When monster girls came, normal humans fled.

  I wasn't normal.

  I gripped my staff that lay across the pommel of my saddle, carved from white oak. It was a simple staff. I'd prefer something ornate. Something that looked impressive, carved with Elvish runes and the end flared into a wide pattern of explosive magic. Something that would proclaim my status as the first human mage in a thousand years.

  My gray robes rustled as the wind picked up, laden with sea salt. I sat straight, still whistling, the fingers of my left hand now drumming on the oilskin pouch hanging off my belt. My magic book was recorded on its vellum pages.

  It was deceptively small. What little I had relearned of magic was in there. I needed more.

  “Are you sure you can take a lamia?” asked Zakurima.

  The yuki-onna darted out from the hood of my robe to zip around me, looking almost like an icy snowflake streaking around me. She moved so fast it was hard to see the tiny, feminine body that was her real form. Her voice was almost a squeak when she was this small. She settled on my shoulder, her chilly hand pressing on the skin of my neck.

  “Of course,” I said, the wind brushing my light-brown hair. It rippled over my pale face. “It's a lamia. I have a plan.”

  “Do you really?” Zakurima asked, sounding doubtful.

  “I had a plan at Lake Powl,” I pointed out. “It worked.”

  “Well...” Zakurima said. “You kinda lucked out there, if half-drowning counts as a plan.”

  “Nope, all according to the plan,” I said and grinned at her, leaning back in the saddle as Intrepid began the descent down the slope to the village. The tide of fleeing people was thinning, a few stragglers, young men with pale faces, at the rear.

  They were the lamia's favorite prey. Some men boasted that they would love to mate with a lamia, claiming it would be a great way to die.

  Now reality had come upon them.

  “And today is going to follow the plan, too,” I said. “I have studied monster girls. I know what I'm doing.”

  “Okay,” Zakurima said. She leaned in and pressed her tiny lips against my neck. “I love you, Garin.”

  “No, you love my cock,” I said, grinning at her.

  She let out a frustrated moan, stamping her little foot on my shoulder. I felt it through my gray robe. “Don't say crude things like that, Garin.”

  I laughed, loving teasing her.

  A loud jingle of metal grew. I frowned and threw a look over my shoulder. I blinked to see a fully armored knight approaching, the refugees peeling out of the man's way. His helmet was off, hanging from his belt, so I could see he wasn't Arthaian like me, but Meranithite. He was a member of one of those three knightly orders fr
om the northern of the three Ring Countries, the Kingdom of Meranith. He had the brown skin of his race, his hair black. He had a thick mustache on his upper lip, the ends oiled to points. As he drew closer, I saw the deep, green hue of his eyes. He wore plate armor, the steel encasing his entire body.

  “Ho there,” he called out as he approached. “I see there is another adventurer seeking to protect the shores against those vile lamians.”

  I nodded my head. “You're far from home, Sir Knight.”

  “Sir Carsin,” he said. “A Knight Civilized.” A large smile crossed his lips, his bushy mustache quivering. “On a quest to defend all the lands from the predation of foul monster girls. Their vile lusts and gluttonous hungers will fail beneath the might of my sword.”

  “Gluttonous!” hissed Zakurima, her voice barely audible to me over the jangle of armor.

  “Uh-huh,” I said, nodding my head, trying to fight off my smile. “Lamia are no ogresses or centaurs. They are swift and nimble. Are you sure you can... handle yourself?”

  The knight let out an annoyed harrumph, glaring at me. “Good man, I am armed and armored. What can a lamia do against me? I am trained to fight the tree-women of the elves, the trolls of the Metalborn Mountains, and the lycanthropes of the Twilight Forest. I have faced the charge of busty centaurs and withstood the crushing fury of stalking giantesses. What can a snake-woman do against such prowess?” He gave me a critical look. “You, good man, are riding to fight monsters with a staff. Where is your armor?”

  “A mage needs no armor,” I said and winked at him. “My magic will—”

  Sir Carsin threw back his head and laughed, his armor rattling. I scowled at the mocking sound echoing around me. Tears actually beaded in his eyes as his horse twitched his ears and snorted. He trembled atop the massive mount, a black destrier he rode, a mighty steed bred to take the weight of the pompous windbag.

  “Oh, what a fine jest,” said Sir Carsin when his laughter died.

  “It's not a jest,” I said through clenched teeth. “I am a mage.”

  He peered at me with studious eyes.

  “What?” I demanded.

  “I do not see pointed ears,” he said. “And your skin lacks that ivory hue of an elf, but instead possesses the light beige of a Arthaian. Your face is not as fine as porcelain nor do you have the slender build that characterizes even their males.”

  “I have rediscovered magic,” I said, gripping my staff. “The first human mage in a thousand years.”

  Sir Carsin laughed again, shaking his head. “Oh, good man, I hope your delusions do not see you dead on this day. With no armor to protect you, you shall fall to a lamia's lust. She will wrap about your body and mate with you until her contractions squeeze the life from your flesh.”

  “We'll see,” I said. “I've been told this before. I know how to fight monster girls. I learned at the College of—”

  “College,” snorted Sir Carsin. “Well, good man, may Mealial, Goddess of Luck, roll the dice in your favor this day. I will route these foul snake-women back to the sea.”

  He heeled his charger and raced down the hill towards the village.

  “Cock-sucking asshole,” I muttered.

  I wasn't delusional. I had rediscovered magic. The first non-elf in a thousand years. Not since the Fracturing, when those foul elves, hiding in their forest sanctum, enacted their spell to rid their world of any rivals to their sanctuary, had there been one. The massive ritual that destroyed the mind of every other mage.

  It destroyed books of magic. It cracked open the skulls of the most skilled practitioners. Overnight, the foundation of Arthas's vast magical empire shattered, forcing the nation to shrink to the small borders of today from its once near-global span.

  But that would change. I would rediscover all that was lost. I would seize the power for myself.

  Zakurima patted my neck. “You'll show him, Garin.”

  “Of course I will,” I said, not increasing my pace. I'd let the knight think he had a chance, but he would move too slow to handle any lamia.

  I soon reached the outskirts of the village. The buildings were made of flimsy wood, the walls thin. The weather was warmer on the coast than at my village which lay along the Alivar Flow. The roofs were made of wooden shingles haphazardly nailed together. There were lines of drying fish strung between houses, swaying in the breeze. In the water of the sea, I could see some lamia already swimming away, finished with their mating.

  I hoped there was at least one left. Perhaps I shouldn't have taken my time.

  The sound of metal ringing grew louder. A horse snorted and whinnied. I heard the smack of iron-shod hooves on hard-packed dirt. Then the black warhorse charged out from a street and ran past me, saddle empty.

  Intrepid gave his own nervous whinny.

  “What's wrong?” Zakurima asked.

  “He's smelling the lamia,” I said, reigning up. “Horses get nervous around snakes.”

  “Ah,” my yuki-onna said. She soared off my shoulder, so light in this form that she could fly. She moved before me, her naked body followed by a streak of rippling fog, like breath steaming in cold air. “Perhaps you should dismount. I'd hate to see you thrown.”

  Intrepid gave another nervous whinny.

  “Perhaps you're right.” I swung down from my horse and kept a good hold on the reins. I tied the lead to a fence around a nearby house and stroked his flank. “It'll be fine, you'll see. I'll show that lamia a good time. They're said to have lovely tits.”

  “Tits!” Zakurima gasped. “You need to defeat her and force the word from her, not fondle her tits.”

  I winked at Zakurima. “And how did I get that word from you?”

  “Oh, no,” she groaned. “I knew you hadn't come up with a good plan.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You worry too much, Zakurima.”

  “Of course I worry,” she said, moving before me. She pressed her small lips against mine. “I love you, Garin.”

  “You just love the first cock that made you cum.”

  “Garin!” she gasped and then zipped up in the air and soared towards a roof. “Go and get yourself fucked to death you idiot!”

  I chuckled as I marched down the street, the sound of groaning metal echoing. My staff's boot thudded on the hard-packed dirt. I reached the street the horse came from and smiled. Sir Carsin had found a lamia.

  Her serpentine lower half—her scales a rich purple with pink belly scales—was wrapped about his body, flexing and undulating as she squeezed him tight. Her snake-like body flowed up to her human half. I could see from this angle that the scales ended at a curving rump, just like on a human woman, her ass pale and perky, a delicious sight. Her back was supple, leading up to purple hair swaying in the wind. Sir Carsin turned, still on his feet, revealing the heaving, round breasts of the lamia, her nipples hard. Her arms flailed, drumming fists on his helmet.

  “Come on!” she whined, her body flexing. Metal groaned beneath the strength of her muscular tail. She dented hardened steel. “It's no fair if you're wearing armor. I just want to mate with you. You'll love it. You can spurt all your cum in my pussy. I know you human men love rutting.

  “So rut with me!”

  She pounded her fists on his helmet again, her cheeks puffing out with petulance. Her upper half wiggled, making her breasts bounce. The knight groaned as she let out another annoyed shriek, her face twisting in passion.

  “This isn't fair!” she moaned. “Stop being such a meanie, human. Ooooooh, you're not being fair!”

  I couldn't help but laugh at the sight, my staff quivering before me.

  The lamia's head whipped around to stare at me. Her slitted, purple eyes fixed on me. I caught a flash of sharp fangs past her lips as she stared at me. Other than that, her upper body appeared feminine and lovely. The transition from her skin to scales was such an exotic delight.

  “Isn't this so mean of him?” she asked me. “He wore all this armor and is refusing to take it off.” She squeezed
again.

  Metal crumpled. The knight grunted.

  “Good man,” the knight whimpered, his voice breathless. “I would... greatly appreciate... your assistance...”

  “Are you sure you want my assistance?” I asked. “I mean, I have a fractured mind that has deluded me into thinking I'm a mage.”

  “But you have a staff,” he groaned. “You could thwack her, distracting her long enough for me to take up my blade and run this vile creature through.”

  “Vile!” the lamia gasped. “Look at my breasts.” Her hands cupped her tits. Her fingernails flashed purple. They looked sharp, ending in points. “Do these breasts look vile?” She gave me a beseeching look. “Do they?”

  “I can honestly say, those are some of the nicest tits I've ever seen,” I said.

  “See!” She stared down at the knight's helmet. “He appreciates me. I don't know why I am even trying to mate with you. You're such a meanie! Wearing armor! It's like you don't want to give me your seed!”

  “Please,” groaned the knight as the lamia squeezed tighter, her coiled body rustling together, the dry rasp of scales rubbing on scales hissing through the air. “She is... squeezing the life... out of me...”

  “It looks like it,” I said. “I suppose I should help.”

  I bent down and picked up a rock.

  “My... thanks...” the knight wheezed.

  The lamia's eyes narrowed. She released her tits and hissed, “You're not going to throw that rock at me, right? That's not nice. Don't be a meanie! I thought you were handsome! I was thinking of mating with you.”

  “Oh, I don't think you could handle me,” I said, feeling the weight of the rock.

  Perfect.

  “Nujan inēl,” I muttered.

  I shuddered as I felt the words channel my internal reserve of mana to seize the power of magic coursing through the world. The undercurrent of mana flowed through everything and fueled the various elements of light and dark, heat and chill, life and death. The proper words harnessed it while a focused will guided it towards an effect. In the process, it dwindled the supply of my own personal mana to shape it.