The Easily Defeated Hero's Monster Girl Adventure

by Amanda Clover

  “Hina… I can’t… ohhhhhhh… stop that… ohhhhhh…”

  Somehow you end up on the bed, completely at the mercy of the insatiable automaton. With her hands braced firmly on your thighs, she practically holds you down as she bobs greedily on your aching cock. Once again, she does not allow your manhood to lose its steel and her steady, steamy stimulation ensures you are soon rising towards another painful peak of pleasure. This time, you do not immediately explode into her sucking throat. As her efforts grow more prolonged, she slips her mouth off your throbbing cock and asks, “Shall I suck on your bollocks, master?”

  “That would… um… oh, gods, alright,” you laugh.

  She nuzzles between your thighs, pressing her face against your spit-wet sack and suckling at your tight stones. As she licks and sucks and bathes your bollocks in the warmth of her mouth, her hand pumps smoothly up and down your wet shaft.

  Her talented, shameless ball-pleasuring coupled with her diligent wanking nearly has you at your limit. She rolls her tongue around your cum-laden stones and pops her lips wetly against your sack. She is noisy in her devotion to your pleasure, slurping wetly and moaning. Her hand squeezes you expertly and pumps up and down your surging cock.

  “Oh, Hina,” you pant. “You are going to make me cum again.”

  “Oh, master, I need it,” she moans, lifting her face from between your thighs. “Give me your seed!”

  She engulfs your cock in her mouth once more and the hot, tight, sucking warmth of her throat pulls you into her depths. You jerk your hips once, twice, and you feel the delicious throbbing of your orgasm as you grab her head with both hands and thrust to the hilt in Hina’s throat.

  The beautiful automaton hums with pleasure around your cock as you erupt into her throat. If she minds having her throat roughly fucked, she certainly does not communicate it. You pump in and out, feeling her velvet throat ripple around you and gulp down your cum with each jerking spasm of pleasure.

  “No more,” you croak and collapse onto the bed.

  Hina relinquishes her grip on your cock and moves beside you. She presses her soft breasts against your arm and caresses your shrinking cock.

  “If you need a rest,” she purrs, playing her delicate fingers against your chest, “I could prepare you some food and drink before I give you more pleasure.”

  “No, no,” you laugh weakly, sitting up in the bed. “It it is time for me to, um, depart. You have proven quite skilled with your, um, level 2 pleasure.”

  “Thank you, master,” she giggles and lean in to give you a kiss on the lips. It is salty surprise and her tongue is so aggressive that you have to pull back and actually push her away. She looks at you with disappointment as you scramble out of the bed and begin to pull up your trousers. She does not make it easy, kissing at your arms and exposed abdomen even as she tries to pull your cock out of your trousers.

  She very nearly succeeds, but you manage to stagger out of the room, holding your trousers up with one hand as you come face-to-face with… Hina.

  “Hello, master,” she says cheerily as the door to your suite closes behind you. “Did you enjoy using my mouth for your pleasure?”

  “Ummmmm, yes,” you say, going beet red and struggling to get your trousers buttoned. ”Yes, it was, thanks, um, nice.”

  “Very good, master,” she says. “There are several guests still waiting to see you. Where would you like to go?”

  She waits patiently, her head cocked to one side, and her hands folded over her apron-like costume.

  Where would you like to go now?

  Pay a visit to Morelle the lesser succubus

  Visit Oola the slime girl

  Receive more training from Theora the angel

  Get back to the real world

  Clean up the house

  You look at the pink gemstone in the hilt of your sword, picturing that beautiful Crystal Sanctum and the pleasure you might enjoy if only you hold the sword aloft and shout the power words.

  “Sanctum Serenity,” you mutter, leaning the sword against the wall of your house. You fetch two buckets from your barn and take them to your well pump. You begin to laborious process of scrubbing out your house, mopping the floor, washing your bedding, repairing the furniture, and mending your ruined garments.

  Worst of all is the fact that they have torn apart your sister’s clothes, stealing some of her old underwear. They’ve even taken some of your mother’s clothing. You find graffiti that seems to be an image of your sister performing fellatio on one of the brothers carved deeply into the wall of Genevieve’s bedroom. It takes you more than an hour to grind this out of the board with one of your father’s woodworking tools.

  Even though the disgusting image is gone, a lighter mark on the wall serves as a reminder of how you have twice now failed Genevieve. She will be home in a matter of days for the brief break that comes before her next semester at the magic academy and you will have nothing to show her.

  Your gaze wanders to the sword leaning against the wall.

  “Well, almost nothing,” you mutter. Your sister might find a trip to the Crystal Sanctum fascinating, at least until she runs into Morelle or Oola begging for your seed. You snort with laughter and shake your head. “What has become of you, Lucas?”

  “You have become the Champion of Veleda.”

  “Theora,” you say, rising to your feet and turning to face the smug angel. “Shouldn’t you be relaxing in the Crystal Sanctum? Or having a cup of wine with a cleric?”

  “I was wondering when you were going to break down and join us in the palace,” she says, walking past you. “I suppose it hurt your pride, what those bandits did to your house?”

  You smile with exasperation and meet Theora’s stern gaze.

  “No, it isn’t about my pride. They stole my mules and pissed on my bed, which made me angry, but that’s not what it’s about either.”

  “What is it about?” She asks, raising an eyebrow, her arms folded imperiously across her chest.

  “Genevieve,” you say. You kick over the chair you just repaired. “My sister. You know this. They’ve robbed me of the money I need to pay for her tuition and board at the Academy of Wizards and Alchemists in Elzeheim.”

  “So do something about it,” she says.

  “What? Go hack them up with the Sword of Veleda?”

  She unfolds her arm and takes hold of your sweat stained shirt. She steps closer and seems to tower over you.

  “The holy sword will never be defiled with petty vengeance,” she growls. “I would rip it out of your hands before you could swing it at these ruffians.”

  You gaze up at her defiantly.

  “Then what are you proposing I do?”

  She smirks at you, rests a hand on your shoulder, and says, “Why don’t we show them the power of Veleda?”

  It is dark when you and Theora approach from the air. Her glorious white wings seem almost to glow in the moonlight. She carries you in her arms like a child and you try not to look down at the countryside as it passes beneath.

  The Gedry farm is no longer much of a farm. The barn is rotten from the rain and has fallen into disrepair, the fields are overgrown with tamar bushes turning orange and red as autumn cold approaches, and the farmhouse, wrapped in creeper vines, looks like a giant mossy stone more than any human habitation. Yet, you see the windows glowing with candlelight and you can smell the smoke of the hearth.

  “There it is,” you growl. “And there are my mules.”

  You point to the corral where Old Joe and Betsy are penned up with the Gedry brothers’ rangy horses. The cart is propped nearby, laden with several trinkets and a ship’s chest they liberated from your house.

  Theora sets you down easily on your feet. She lands softly beside you.

  “Knock on their door, Lucas,” she says. You give her a doubting look and she adds, “Trust me.”

  You shuffle towards their door with your heart pounding in your chest. Theora has not permitted you to bring th
e Sword of Veleda and you had nothing like a weapon left in your house. You approach the crooked door of the Gedry farm with your hands balled into tight fists. Light leaks out under the door and through some of the rotting planks of the walls. You hear laughing and the sound of breaking pottery.

  Your first knock is soft and they do not even react. You knock again, louder, and this time they grow quiet and begin muttering. Your third knock finally booms against the door and they fling it open. You are greeted by Johan Gedry, his eyes wild with anger and his scruffy whiskers dripping with foam from a pot of your cider.

  “What? What in the hells… oh…” He grins at you, his broken teeth showing as he grows excited. “Boys! Boys, look at this! It’s our gracious benefactor! Come to see that we’re having a good time with his cider and his coin!”

  Johan’s two pudgy brothers crowd in next to him and they leer at you from the doorway.

  “Won’t you come in, Lucas?” Johan snorts with laughter. “I’m afraid the whores have gone home for the night, but you can come wank off my brothers if you’d like.”

  They all have a good laugh at that. You remain motionless, your fists at your side. When they finally quiet down, Johan sneers, “What is it you come all the way out here late at night to bother us with?”

  “I’m taking my mules back,” you say. “And my cart. And you’ll hand over the coin you took from my house.”

  “Hand over the coin?” Johan cackles and smacks his brothers on their shoulders. “Can you believe this one? Thinks he’s a bandit! A real cutpurse! Goin’ to steal from us our rightfully pilfered treasures! Fook off, LeBlanc, before we break your head open.”

  “S-step outside,” you say, cursing your fear. “Step outside and try it.”

  They lurch towards you, laughing, and you stagger back from the door, giving them room to exit and staying out of their reach.

  “Last warning,” shouts Johan and he brandishes a hobnailed truncheon looped around his wrist. “Get out of here! Run! Or I’ll be buryin’ you before sun-up.”

  Light blooms in the sky above and behind you and grows brighter and brighter as it settles to earth. The Gedry brothers stare in slack-jawed astonishment as Theora, in full angelic resplendence, illuminates the field and the faces of the brothers with her holy light. She lands beside you, her wings spread and that familiar superior smile on her face.

  “It’s an angel,” blubbers one of the pudgy Gedry brothers.

  “S-s-s-servant of the gods,” jabbers the other pudgy brother.

  The awe fades from Johan’s face. He alone among the brothers seems willing to confront Theora. He marches out of the house and approaches her, his eyes taking in her shapely figure in her gauzy white gown. He looks almost as if he is going to grab her and try to fondle her breasts.

  “You may be some sort of angel woman,” sneers Johan, “but I ain’t afraid of you. Still just a woman. And you’re on my property, which means—“

  She thrusts out her hands and transfixes Johan in a beam of white light. He lifts off the ground and floats there, his body contorted as if in the middle of a muscle spasm. He gurgles with apparent agony.

  “You will go inside your hovel,” she says. “And bring all of the money you have taken from Lucas LeBlanc.”

  “W-what do you care… hnnnnn… about him?” Johan struggles to choke out every word.

  “He is the chosen champion of Veleda!” Theora’s voice booms as loud as thunder. Johan Gedry lifts higher off the ground, is arms and legs bowed backwards and a look of agony on his face. “He serves the goddess to save the world and you steal his money?”

  “For-give… us… please!” Johan Gedry chokes out.

  She holds him a moment longer in the bright light. It shuts off like a snuffed candle and Johan drops to the ground with a thump. He pushes himself up weakly on his hands, looking from Theora to you with an expression of awe.

  “I… I am sorry, Lucas,” he murmurs. “We all serve the goddess even… even scum like me an’ my brothers. Can you forgive us?”

  You hold out your hand to Johan. He looks at it for a moment and then takes it and smiles. You pull him to his feet.

  “Yes,” you say, grinning at him. “Now get my money.”

  “Right,” he laughs, scratching his head and casting a wary glance at Theora. “Come inside. I have most of your money. Most of it left from the first time we robbed you. It’s… we spent some on booze and whores. Some more on food. I… I can… we can get it back with…”

  “The money you have is enough,” you say.

  “The three of you will be ready,” interjects Theora, folding her wings to follow you into Johan’s hovel. “Veleda watches your misdeeds. You will devote yourself to training and prepare to serve the hero and the goddess.”

  “Huh?” One of the pudgy brothers wonders.

  “What you talkin’ about, angel lady?” The other pudgy brother rubs at his chin.

  “You will devote yourself to martial training,” her voice grows a bit louder. “You will prepare to fight the enemies of mankind.”

  “What does—“

  Johan Gedry holds up a hand to silence his less intelligent brothers.

  “We will do as you command,” says Johan. “I think what my brothers are saying is how will we get by while we are training? What are the enemies of mankind?”

  “Monster girls,” you offer.

  “Monster… girls? I think I’ve heard of them.” Johan folds his arms across his chest. “But what about the other question.”

  “You will not rob or threaten,” thunders Theora. “You will find a peaceable way to get by or you will suffer the consequences.”

  “Alright, alright,” says Johan. “I get it. You is demanding an end to our activities in the area of banditry. Fair enough, angel lady and Lucas. We’ll give your way a try. Now come on in and have a drink. We have some delicious cider. Locally pressed.”

  It feels strange to raise a cup in toast with the Gedry brothers. It had taken some convincing from Theora to get you to agree to her plan to conscript them to your cause. You are still unsure if Johan Gedry can be trusted. He cuts his eyes in your direction as if reading your thoughts. He smiles, but his eyes are wary. You force a smile and salute him with your cup of cider.

  You try to remind yourself that for the many adventures yet to come, the many monstrous enemies you will face, it is better to have friends than enemies.

  So long as those friends don’t have a knife behind their back.

  < START OVER | CONTINUE TO BOOK 3: THE COW GIRL >

  Ask Ella to pleasure you with her hand

  You are put off by the idea of sharing the beautiful older whore with someone else and you would like to spend as few of your remaining zeks as possible. You look down at her delicate hands. She catches your gaze and a smile spreads across her face.

  “You’d like a wank, huh?” She grasps your hand with hers. “It would be my pleasure, Lucas. Would you like my hand or a glove or something else?”

  “Your, um, your hand would be fine,” you say, your face hot with embarrassment.

  “Good, we can just nip into a lounge. I’ll take good care of you.” She winks and gives your hand a squeeze.

  Ella leads you by your hand away from the bar and towards one of the lounges at the back of the brothel’s ground floor. Most of these are closed off by curtains, but as you draw near you can hear moans and sighs of pleasure from inside. Through the edge of one curtain you catch a glimpse of a slender, girlish whore with curly blonde hair bobbing her head on the lap of an old man. He seizes a handful of her hair and grunts with pleasure.

  “This way,” says Ella, pulling you towards an empty lounge. It is a tiny space walled on three sides, with a lantern and a cushioned sofa made to look fancy, but with cheap upholstery and poorly-concealed stains. Ella pulls you inside and closes off the curtain. She directs you to the sofa and says, “We can sit together for a while and you can tell me of your desires.”

  You sit do
wn and she sits very close beside you, her soft breasts barely contained by her corset as she presses them against your arm. She toys with your shaggy mop of hair with one hand and slides her other hand into your lap, stroking around your cock, but not quite touching it. Not yet anyway.

  She leans her face very close to yours and in the low light of the lounge she is especially beautiful. Her lips part and she whispers softly, “Do you have a mother, Lucas?”

  “What?” It takes you a moment to comprehend what she is asking. “Um, yes, I do. I mean, I did. She disappeared after my father died.”

  “Awww,” she coos, petting your head. “Poor boy, all alone in the world. Did your mother tuck you into bed when you were younger? Did she take good care of you?”

  “Y-yeah?” You stammer as Ella’s hand begins to wander over the bulge of your cock in your trousers.

  She presses her lips to your ear and whispers, “Well, a grow man still needs a woman to take care of him. I am going to take good care of you now. I’ll make you feel nice and relaxed. Would you like that?”

  It is difficult to think with Ella so close to you, pressing against you with her big, soft breasts and her hand squeezing your cock through your trousers. You finally manage to answer, “Um, that sounds, uh, I mean…”

  Then Ella’s hand is unbuckling your trousers and taking hold of your stiff cock and you can’t think of much of anything at all. You let out a long groan and look down at your lap as Ella’s soft grasp begins to expertly massage your straining cock. Her hot breath caresses your neck. She kisses you just beneath your ear as her hand pumps up and down your hardness. Her thumb presses just beneath your cockhead, massaging a spot that tightens your body with pleasure.

  “Ohhhh gods,” you moan after only a few more strokes up and down your stiff cock. Your tip is turning from crimson to purple and beginning to leak precum.

  “You can cum whenever you’d like,” giggles Ella, kissing your neck again. She swings a stockinged leg over your knees and presses her creamy thigh against you just beneath your cock. She continues to wank your hardness with one hand, your purpling cock contrasting darkly with the pale flesh of her leg.