The Easily Defeated Hero's Monster Girl Adventure

by Amanda Clover

  “Buy a drink or get lost,” reads the sign.

  “Oh, right,” you say, fumbling and nearly dropping some of your precious coins. You manage to pluck out just enough for a cheap ale. The barman slides a sloshing tin mug across the counter.

  “You want me to bring out the girls?” The barman lifts a whistle he wears on a necklace. You recall from your first visit that two sharp toots on the whistle will summon all the available women to the bar to present themselves for business. You would rather not repeat that embarrassing ritual.

  “Ah, no, sorry,” you stammer. “I want Ella Deneva.”

  “Ella? Oh, she’s been calling herself Valeena lately.” The barman motions one of the waitresses over and leans down to speak to her. She gives you an appraising look and an amused smile and hurries off. The barman turns his attention back to you. “Ella is with a customer. She’ll be over as soon as she’s done.”

  “Thank you,” you say gratefully, but the barman has already turned to chatting with one of the waitresses. He clearly has no interest in conversing with you.

  You drink the flavorless ale down to its dregs and start to doubt the wisdom of stepping into the brothel. The thought of Ella with another man both stiffens your cock and makes you a bit annoyed. You are about to get up from your stool and leave when a gentle hand slides around your shoulder and soft breasts press against the back of your neck. You recognize the perfume at once. You stiffen in more ways than one as soft lips press against your ear and warm words caress you.

  “I heard you were looking for me,” whispers Ella.

  You turn in the stool and find yourself looking at the woman who was your first. She is less beautiful than you remember. That is your unfortunate first thought. She is a real woman instead of the erotic fantasy, with lines at the corners of her eyes and too much makeup on her face. There is a slight weariness to her shoulders. A stain on her skirt and a run in her stockings.

  Then your gaze is drawn to her corseted breasts, somehow even larger and creamier than you remembered, heaving and powdered, and the way her lips quirk into a rather unique smile, and you forget your disappointment. Her dark hair is worn up in a pile of curls rather than down around her shoulders as you remembered, but you decide this new way suits Ella’s long, slender neck. Her gray eyes are less kind than those in your memories. But this is the woman you want.

  “Um, yeah,” I say. “I was here last summer. You were my, I mean, um, it was my first time.”

  “Ah!” She takes your hands and pulls them against her corseted body. “I remember! Lika? Lukan?”

  “Lucas,” you correct.

  “Of course,” she says and pulls you off the stool to look you over. “Lucas. You have more meat on your bones today.”

  You are not so certain about that. Perhaps the rich food of the Crystal Sanctum has allowed you to gain back a bit of the weight you lost during the dry summer. Ella leans close, almost as if she is going to kiss you, and her hand strokes over your crotch in a practiced motion. At first you think she is grabbing at your cock and you let out a surprised moan. It takes you a moment more to realize the experienced whore is sizing up the coins in your pocket and purse.

  “A fair bit of coin,” she says, raising an eyebrow. “For me?”

  “Mostly for my sister,” you say and she raises that eyebrow even higher. Your face goes burning hot as you realize the implication of what you just said. “For her schooling in Elzeheim.”

  “Oh,” she says, her smile slipping for a moment. “Very well, you still have coin to spend though?”

  “Y-yeah,” you say. “How much, um, how much would it be for—“

  She interrupts you, ticking off her answer on her fingers, “My hand is four, my mouth is five, my breasts the same as that if you fancy them, and my cunt is ten. Arse is fifteen. If you’d like a wank with my feet—“

  “Um, I only have eight to spare,” you confess.

  Her lips tighten, but she manages a smile. “Well, I suppose you could share my cunt with another lad.”

  “How is that? Share?” You say, never having heard of such a thing.

  “Yes, yes,” she says. “Just as good for you, I promise, but quicker for me. Both your cocks rubbing inside at the same time. It will feel wonderful.”

  “I don’t know if that—“

  She grips your arm and leans close to whisper, “Some lads even like that. Feels a bit naughtier.”

  Such a thing seems sinful under the teachings of the high cleric of Veleda. Men are not to touch men and women are not to touch women in the act of pleasure. Some do this anyway and they are barely tolerated in the village. You don’t want to be known as one of those people.

  Clearly, Ella sees your doubt. She gives your arm a squeeze.

  “Whatever you would like with your coins is fine by me, handsome,” she says. “But make up your mind. Almost the night rush and I’d like to have a bite to eat before then.”

  What do you do?

  Ask Ella to pleasure you with her hand

  Ask Ella to pleasure you with her mouth

  Ask Ella to pleasure you with her breasts

  Accept Ella's offer to share her cunt

  Go back home and save the money

  Something cold to drink would be nice after all the hard work, but the thought of a cellar beer makes you a bit queasy. No, you decide, much fun as it might be to enjoy the company of the raven-haired whore that made you a man, it would be foolish to spend your hard-earned money so frivolously. Your sister could use a new school robe. Not to mention you are the champion of Veleda; hiring whores to satisfy your lust does not seem appropriate given your holy task.

  You climb onto the bench of your mule cart and give the reins a snap. Old Joe and Betty bray and set off down the evening road. You soon pass from the narrow cobbled streets of the village and onto the wide dirt trade road leading into the countryside. The lights of the houses become intermittent and you are left to navigate by the light of the bright, full moon.

  It is not long before you see a hooded figure standing by the roadside. Their stooped posture gives them the appearance of a crone, though you cannot see their face. It would not do for the hero of a thousand lives to leave a poor, old woman wandering the countryside at night. You cluck and pull back on the reins, guiding the cart over to the side of the road.

  “Hey-o there!” You call to the crone. “Do you need a ride to some place?”

  She turns slowly, her face hidden in shadow but locks of golden hair dangling from beneath her hood. She hobbles over to stand beside your cart.

  “Why thank you, young man,” she says.

  You hold out a hand to help her up. She takes your hand in her strong, smooth grasp. Your heart jumps in your chest as you catch a flash of ice blue eyes in the darkness of the hood.

  The next thing you know, you are sprawled on the ground beside your cart and struggling to breathe. Your arm feels like it has nearly been wrenched out of its socket. The crone towers over you, no longer stooped. She throws back her hood and reveals her familiar contemptuous smile and icy blue eyes.

  “Theora!” You croak, managing to sit upright.

  “Never pick up a traveler at night,” she says and now you see her ample bust beneath a plain travel robe cinched tightly around her slender waist. “I might have been a demoness or a goblin queen.”

  You almost snap back at her that she practically is a demon queen with how cruel she can be at times. Thankfully, you decide to keep your mouth shut. You scratch your head and admit, “Yes, you’re right. I need to be more careful.”

  “Mmmhmm,” she says, folding her arms beneath her breasts and making them seem even larger. When you do not immediately get up from the ground she sighs and offers you a hand up. You take it warily, but it is no trick. Theora pulls you to your feet and even dusts off your shirt with rough pats of her hand.

  “What are you doing out here?” You ask as she walks around behind you and dusts off your back and bottom.

&nbs
p; “I had business in St. Ingbert’s as well,” she says, completing the circle to stand before you again. Some of the anger has faded from her blue eyes. “An ill wind stirs. The monster girls are on the rise, Lucas, even if we do not see them yet.”

  “Another one to fight?”

  “Soon, yes, I think so,” she says, squinting up at the moon. She looks back into your eyes and surprises you with a kinder smile. She rests a hand on your shoulder and gives you a squeeze. “You are doing well, Lucas. To learn two abilities so quickly is not an easy feat. I might make a hero out of you yet.”

  “Really?” You give Theora a dubious look. The angel’s kindness feels unnervingly like a trap.

  “Yes,” she says, her eyes looking you slowly over. “But you need to work on your stamina. Step away from the road.”

  She pushes you away from the dirt trade road, through a small copse of trees, and into another clearing. With each of her shoves you have the distinct feeling that she is going to throw you down on the ground like a ragdoll. She leaves her hand on the back of your neck and runs her fingers up and into your shaggy hair.

  “Here is a good place for it,” she says.

  “What?” You turn slowly around. “What do you mean?”

  As you turn, Theora drops her woolen cloak and reveals that she is absolutely and exquisitely naked beneath the discarded garment. Her body is a luscious blend of towering muscularity and voluptuous, angelic softness. Her golden-tufted cunt gleams in the moonlight, her creamy white flesh seems almost to glow, and her eyes sparkle. She is luminous in her holy beauty.

  “I think you know what I mean, Lucas,” she says, giving you one of those contemptuous smirks. Watching her plump breasts heave with each breath she takes makes it difficult for you, or your stiff cock, to care too much about her contempt. She caresses your face with both her hands, cradling your cheeks gently. “I can help you.”

  “H-how?”

  “You tell me, you silly boy,” she says, stepping so close that her pink nipples tease against your tunic.

  “Sex,” you whisper.

  “I might work,” she says, leaning her lips close to yours. Her breath is warm and smells like flowers and sunshine. “Even if I cannot teach you stamina, it certainly will not hurt.”

  Having trained with Theora in the past few days, you are not so sure, but you can offer her no rebuke as her soft, warm lips press against yours. You moan with desire and give in to her kiss without hesitation. Theora’s tongue slips into your mouth, exploring and dominating you with her angelic lust. There is sweetness to her kiss almost like honey and you lose yourself in the swirling, molten heat of that embrace. She is so strong you do not doubt she could lift you up off the ground.

  “Touch me,” she moans against your lips. “Touch my body, Lucas. I know you desire me. Be a man.”

  Since the moment you saw her. You return her kiss, daring to press back against her lips as you boldly explore her flawless flesh with your work-worn hands. She moans as your rough fingers press the softness of her breasts, molding and shaping the mounds, feeling her nipples against your palms. Her hand on the back of your head urges you to dip your face to those soft cushions and you begin to kiss the naturally perfumed valley of her soft breasts.

  “Take off your trousers,” she says, guiding you to her nipples. “Are you a boy? A man? Show me your risen cock.”

  “Mmmmmmm,” you cry as she feeds one of her pink nipples into your mouth. Your cock twitches with desire and you can feel the wetness of your precum already smearing inside your underclothes. As you kiss her and fondle her, you free a hand to unbuckle your belt and unbutton your trousers. You kick your way out of your boots, tongue swirling around Theora’s ripe nipple as you move from one breasts to the other. Your cock is so hard it feels as if it might tear through your trousers. The gorgeous, lusty angel seems aflame in the pale moonlight.

  “Oh, yes,” she gasps as you finally free your cock from your trousers. She takes a step back, her nipples redder and glistening with your spit. You step out of your pants and grip your hardness at its base. Your heart hammers in your chest and you are gratified to see a rosy color to Theora’s pale cheeks. It would seem she is nearly as inflamed with desire as you.

  But her contemptuous smile returns.

  “Are you ready, Lucas?” She says. “Prove to me you know how to handle a woman. Prove you can endure for more than a moment in the throes of pleasure. Hold nothing back!”

  Looking at the gorgeous angel, her golden ringlets spilling over her pale shoulders and onto the blushing mounds of her breasts, her shapely hips and golden-furred cunt, you are not so sure you will last much longer than a moment.

  But you have to try…

  What do you do?

  Go down on Theora

  Fuck Theora from behind

  Fuck Theora from a missionary position

  Fuck Theora's mouth

  The Easily Defeated Hero’s Monster Girl Adventure

  Book 3: The Cow Girl

  By Amanda Clover

  @amandasmut

  Art created for the cover by Delacroix_Legion

  A Pocket of Paradise

  The six-armed demoness with the lower body of a serpent slithers purposefully across the stone tiles. She grasps a curved sword in each of her hands and tosses her hair triumphantly as she approaches her hapless prey. The slender impette turns at the last moment and lets out a shrill scream of terror before being sliced to pieces by the demoness. The gruesomely dismembered body fades to nothing.

  “You are almost out of impettes.”

  You look up from the Hell Chess board at the beautiful, golden-haired angel sitting across from you. Her silver-blue eyes glitter as she observes your reaction. Theora is your tutor, companion, liaison to the goddess Veleda, and in many ways, your boss. This is your first time since meeting her that you have spent any prolonged leisure time with the imposing angel.

  And she is absolutely destroying you in Hell Chess. You played it a few times in St. Ingbert at the spring festival using little wooden pieces. The Hell Chess set in the Crystal Sanctum, your trans-dimensional castle, uses little ghost-like characters that can be played like pieces but move and behave like living demons. It’s a little distracting to watch Theora’s succubus drain the life from your impette with a kiss or see her winged nightmare crush your succubus under its hooves.

  “I’m still trying to learn the game,” you say, studying the board and your few remaining pieces.

  “You said you knew how to play,” scoffs Theora.

  “I said that I had played before,” you say. “Not that I was good at it.”

  “As usual, you have overestimated your abilities in the face of a real opponent,” says the angel.

  “Oh, take it easy on him, Miss Immortal Being,” croaks Morelle, the novice succubus.

  The voluptuous, violet-haired beauty is reclining in an oversized bathtub nearby as one of the beautiful Hina automatons pours warm water over Morelle’s naked body. You try not to be distracted by the lovely succubus as she turns in the bathtub and her ample ass surfaces. She leans against the rim of the tub, her plump breasts overhanging the porcelain as she cranes her neck to get a look at the game board.

  “Your cacoknight can leap over a piece,” says Morelle.

  “The cacoknight?”

  “The warrior woman on the frog,” she says, which is a nice way of describing a piece that looks like a tiny barbarian woman atop a four-legged reptile with spider-like eyes. She continues, “Jump over Miss Perfect’s impette there and take her succubus before she gets five souls.”

  You move your hand to the board and direct the cacoknight to jump over the head of Theora’s nearest impette and attack her succubus piece. The frog leaps well above the board, arcing slightly before coming down in the same square as the succubus. The bat-winged beauty in the square is sent sprawling by the cacoknight as her frog lands. The beast lunges and snaps the succubus up in its jaws. Her legs kick for a moment before i
t tilts back its head and the succubus disappears down its gullet.

  “There,” says Morelle. “That will stop her from becoming a greater succubus and dominating the board.”

  “Yes, as opposed to a lesser succubus,” says Theora, waving a dismissive hand, “such as Morelle.”

  Morelle sloshes in the tub, her violet eyes blazing with anger and her full lips puckered into a scowl. The rim of the tub squeezes into the wet mounds of her breasts as she leans over it further.

  “I might have had a chance to eat up enough souls if you hadn’t sent Lucas to get me! Now you… you… oooooooohh…”

  The anger fades from her face and her eyes roll back and close. She grins with pleasure and says, “Oola you are a naughty girl.”

  The translucent slime girl rises up from the water behind Morelle, taking human shape from violet-hued gelatin. A face forms last in her feminine head and she grins. You can just make out something sprouting from her groin that seems to be moving and pleasuring the succubus.

  “Is that an arm growing from your waist?” Theora’s disgust is apparent in her tone.

  “Awoo! Lady Morelle likes when I find new ways to give her pleasure,” burbles Oola. “So I grow all sorts of fun things.”

  There is a slurp, Morelle gasps, and Oola holds up a wobbling hand that seems to have five translucent penises for fingers. Theora groans in dismay.

  “We should keep you two separate,” says the angel. “You are becoming more perverse by the day.”

  Theora selects the fallen angel figurine on the board and moves it towards your blubbery ogre. The fallen angel, although it appears to be a beautiful woman resembling Theora, has a huge, flaccid penis dangling between its shapely thighs. It saunters into the ogre’s square, gives a war cry, and lops off the fat brute’s head with a flaming sword. The fallen angel figure puts a foot up on the corpse of her defeated foe, posing triumphantly with her plump breasts thrust forward. And with her huge cock dangling almost to her knee.