“Harder,” she cries, arching her back and thrusting back onto your straining cock. “Fuck me harder, damn you!”
“Yes!” You roar, savagely thrusting into her. You grab hold of her feathered wings, pulling them open and holding them splayed as you pound your cock into her pussy. She wails with ecstasy, rolling her hips, popping her pink pussy onto your cock and off again. You growl and pull her back, her ass smacking against your hips.
“Ohhhhh, you’re a beast,” she cries. You plow her pussy like you have never fucked before, jaw tensing and muscles straining as you give Theora every measure of your lust. Your hammering cock spears her steamy slit, smacking faster and faster against her firm bottom. “So good! AhhhhhhHHHH!”
Theora’s wings suddenly snap wide open, out of your grasp, shedding a white feather that drifts through the air. She wails with pleasure, thrusting back so hard that you have to fight to stay upright. Her angelic pussy grips you and throbs around your straining cock, powerful muscles milking your hardness and urging you towards your orgasm. There is no mistaking Theora’s intense orgasm. She bucks against you again and again, her cunt rippling around you until her wings relax and fold partially closed. You seize the upper joint of her wings again and double over her, driving deep into her pussy as your pleasure peaks.
“Take it,” you hiss against her ears. “Take my seed!”
“Ohhhh, Lucas!” She cries.
Your cum erupts from your jerking manhood and floods Theora’s perfect pussy. Your rough strokes take on a lewd slurp and you feel your cum overflowing her quim and dripping from your balls. You lean hard over her back, your cock buried and twitching out every drop into her pussy. She sighs as your orgasm fades and rises to a standing position. Your cock slips from her creamy depths.
Expecting an embrace as she turns, you are surprised to see disgust on her face. She waves her hand and your cum disappears from her glistening thighs. Another wave and her ample curves are once more draped in her gown.
“Did I… did I do something wrong?” You ask.
“I did,” she says. “It was foolish. We cannot behave this way. You are a mortal, I am an angel, and I am responsible for seeing you triumph over the forces of evil.” She waves at your limp cock. “Indulging in such pleasure with you does not serve the goddess.”
“I…” You want to argue with her, but you see the hard look in her silver-blue eyes and you back away. You wipe your cock clean with a handkerchief and tuck it into your trousers. You mutter, “Goodnight.”
You retreat to your tent, climbing into the bedroll as your thoughts return to the pleasure of taking Theora’s perfect pussy. You imagine yourself plundering her luscious peach again and again, driving her mad with your cocksmanship and pumping her full of endless waves of your cream. Your fantasy becomes your dreams and you imagine Theora begging for your cock bent over the bed in your farmhouse. She wails for your seed and pleads for you to breed her holy pussy.
You are rudely awakened by Theora’s harsh command, “Up with you!”
“Wha?” You stir in your tent, the light still gray before dawn.
“I said get up,” shouts Theora. “I have almost finished with breakfast. Eat it quickly so we can be on our way.”
You pull on your clothes and stagger out of your tent. Theora is stirring a pot of sweet-smelling oats over the fire and tending to a cast iron skillet filled with sizzling meat. Morelle is sulking on one of the overturned logs by the fire, idly stirring a steaming bowl of oats and meat.
“Here,” says Theora, passing a similar bowl to you. “No honey.”
“I had all the honey I need last night.” You begin to recollect, a dreamy smile on your face, but your bliss is cut short by Theora’s hard stare.
“Speak no more of last night or I will feed you to the succubus.”
You sigh and sit down beside Morelle.
“You never came looking for me,” says the succubus. “I was waiting for you to come fuck me.”
You sigh again and begin to stuff your face with the food. Full, but still sore and half-asleep, you strike camp. Theora promises you will arrive in Bruno before nightfall.
CONTINUE >
Dairy Hand
You find yourself picturing Gretchen’s soft hands gripping your cock like a heifer’s teat and milking out streams of cum. The thought makes your already stiff cock twitch and rub against the seam inside your trousers. You softly moan and Gretchen glances down at your twitching manhood.
“What’s it going to be, Lucas?” She says.
“Your… your hand,” you say, knowing you are condemning yourself to whatever fat this huge cow girl has in store for you. “The Dairy Hand.”
“Oh! What a good boy!” She says, bouncing with delight and making her breasts jiggle. “Take off your silly pants and get down on your hands and knees! I’ll get the pail!”
“O-okay,” you say, your face hot and your will to resist her broken. Gretchen goes bouncing out of the sitting room. You can hear her rummaging around and realize you can probably escape. Instead, you strip off your trousers, your hard cock springing free and twitching with anticipation. You assume the position on the floor on your hands and knees, your cock sticking out towards the floor like a singular udder of throbbing crimson flesh.
“I usually do my milking out in the barn, but I keep a pail around in the house for visitors,” she calls out from the next room. “Don’t try to run off, Lucas! I can probably run faster than you and—Oh! Here we are!”
Gretchen comes prancing back into the room, the frilly fringe on her panties shaking and her generous curves jiggling. She pauses at the doorway and proudly holds up her silver pail. A shudder runs through you as you imagine the small bucket positioned beneath your swollen cock.
“Oh, what a good boy you are,” she laughs, walking over and kneeling beside you. “Already in position and eager for your first milking. Well, don’t worry Lucas, there will be many more to come.”
She thumps the bucket onto the floor and slides it under your body, the cold rim brushing against the sensitive head of your cock. You groan at the contact and shift your knees a little closer together so your cock is higher.
“It’s bigger than I expected on such a small young man,” she says, playful appreciation in her tone. She strokes your flank down over your firm tummy to the hairy root of your cock. Her soft hand wraps around it, fingers tightening, and you let out a long, low groan of pleasure. “Very eager. You’re practically ready to burst from my first touch. That’s fine, Lucas, you go ahead and cum whenever you’d like. Fill the bucket up for me.”
As she speaks these shameful words, her hand begins to stroke from your root down to your tip. Her touch is so practiced that it reminds you of Morelle. Whatever demonic finesse Morelle possesses is not quite a match for the familiarity Gretchen shows with squeezing and stroking your rock-hard cock.
“Oh… ohhh gods,” you moan, feeling the pleasure rising in your swollen cock.
“That’s it,” she says, wanking you faster, pumping her hand up and down your precum-smeared man-udder. She croons, “Fill my bucket up with your milky-milk, Lucas.”
Her words are too much. Your hips jerk and you thrust into her stroking fingers and bump your cock against the bucket’s inner rim. Your cum pours out in powerful streams that patter against the inside of the bucket. You have milked your own cow enough time to recognize the sound of milk filling a bucket. Your gushes into the bucket as Gretchen coos happily.
“So much milk,” she says, stroking you to the point of over-sensitivity.
“Th-that’s enough,” you moan, trying to rise.
“Enough?” She pushes you back down onto your hands and knees. “You’re the cow, silly. I get to milk you as much as I want.”
She leans her heavy breasts against your back and reaches a hand between your legs from behind. She clutches your bollocks and continues vigorously wanking you with her other hand. You moan and tremble, your cock agonizingly sensitive, but it�
��s no use; Gretchen controls you and is intent on milking out more of your cum. You pant and whine pitifully as she jerks you faster, her body holding you trapped and her other hand massaging your balls.
“No, oh, no gods… again… ahhhhhh!” You are cumming again more quickly than the first time, your seed shooting out into the bucket and splashing through her fingers. She strokes and strokes until you are sure you cannot stand any more. Somehow, your cock hardly softens, her stimulation keeping you so close to the edge that you almost cum a third time.
“That’s two,” laughs Gretchen. “It will take at least ten to make a potion.
“Ten?” You moan, the thought suddenly terrifying as you realize you will give her those ten and like many more. You are helpless and defeated by Gretchen’s Dairy Hand.
CONTINUE >
Strike her down and defeat her
This is no time for amusement. Gretchen has been awed by the holy power of Veleda. To be truly merciful, you must end this quickly and painlessly for her. She looks up pleadingly, her legs folded beneath her and her hands clasped together as if in prayer. You grimace and draw your sword from its sheath.
“May the goddess have mercy on you, Gretchen,” you say.
She bows her head and says, “Thank you, Lucas, for showing me the light.”
You move next to her, holding out your sword to test the edge of the blade against the back of her neck.
“Will it hurt?” She softly asks without lifting her head.
“I don’t think so,” you say. “It will not kill you, Gretchen. Instead, you will be sent to a nice place to meet some new friends. And I will be there to see you soon.”
“Thank you,” she repeats, her voice sounding genuinely grateful.
You raise the holy sword above your head and swing it downward again in a whooshing arc. The strike lands true, but as the edge of the blade would slice through Gretchen’s head, she is instead consumed by a bright flash of light. You wince at the flash, your vision slowly returning to normal just in time to see the pink gemstone in the hilt of your sword winking brightly. The glow fades and silence settles upon the empty farmhouse.
Striking down the helpless cow girl does not make you feel any great pride, but that you have managed to defeat another monster girl is enough. You stride out of the farmhouse, your sword resting on your shoulder, but no smile upon your face.
CONTINUE >
Visit with Gretchen the cow girl
You are ready to pay Gretchen a visit and find out how the new addition to your allies is settling in here in the palace.
“I would like to visit our new arrival,” you say to Hina. “Does she have a room upstairs?”
“Gretchen does not like stairs,” says Hina. “I have created an environment perfectly suited to her anatomy and aesthetic desires.”
“What exactly does that mean?”
She tilts her head slightly to the side, her eyes flash, she emits a strange clicking sound, and says, “Follow me.”
You follow the elegant automaton out of the confines of the castle and into a rolling green meadow jut beyond the palace. The shadows of clouds move slowly across the wide field. A small creek runs through it and there is a wooden fence that looks as old and mossy as any farm fence you’ve ever seen. Atop a small hill in the meadow sits a handsome barn. The wood is painted red and the tin shingles are painted white like the trim around the shuttered loft doors.
“I didn’t even know this place was here,” you say.
“It has not been used prior to now,” says Hina, leading you across the sun-warmed meadow. “I am able to alter the terrain and environments as needed by our guests.”
“What?” You look at her with surprise. “You change this place around?”
“Yes, master,” she says. “I adjust the palace and the island around it to meet the needs of our guests.”
“Could you show me how that works?”
“Here we are,” says Hina, gesturing to the door into the barn. “Gretchen is just inside.”
Hina seems to be ignoring your question. You decide to let it go. For now. At the moment you are more interested in the soft moans emanating from inside the barn. You give Hina a last glance. She nods encouragingly and gestures to the door. You open it up and step into the barn.
The scent of hay and grain and the musty aroma of animals is the first thing you notice. The barn is spacious, but not huge, with an open loft on the second floor, piled bales of hay, and three spacious stalls for horses or other animals.
There are no other animals to occupy those stalls and the main area of the barn, where horses might be tacked or other animals groomed, has been devoted to an extensive alchemy set. In addition to apothecary drawers stuffed with herbs and reagents, there are two long work tables, cauldrons, a mortar and pestle, and a brass alembic much larger than the one in the barn near Bruno.
Gretchen is sitting on a three-legged stool next to one of the workbenches and using a device that looks like two glass bottles with pumps and cups made from rubber gum on the top. She is working the pumps on the bottles with her hands and pressing the rubber cups to her wide areolas. As you watch, milk patters down into each of the bottles with each pump of her hands.
“Oh, hello, Lucas,” she says. “I wasn’t expecting you to visit me so soon.”
Your face is hot with embarrassment as you watch her pumping the bottles and producing more milk. Gretchen, on the other hand, proudly continues. Each squeeze of a hand produces another popping sound from a pump and another trickle of milk into a bottle. She gives her huge, milky teats a few more pumps before popping the rubber gum cups free from her areolas. The cups have left red circles on her breasts surrounding each areola. Her thick nipples also seem a bit red and her milk is continuing to bead at each nipple and drip down the lower curves of her breasts.
“S-sorry,” you finally manage to say. “I should’ve knocked. I… I can come back later.”
Gretchen gets up from the stool and carries the milk-filled bottles over to the nearest table. You watch the sway of her wide hips and the soft bounce of her ample ass. Her panties are less frilly than the pair she was wearing when you met her and the back seems wedged even deeper between her plump cheeks.
“I am glad you came to visit me. I am going to make you some special elixirs, Lucas,” she says, emptying the bottles into a larger glass vessel. “The talking statue lady brought me all sorts of alchemy equipment so that I can make potions here in my barn. I want to help you defeat Lady Rachelle and the Queen of the Monsters.”
You’re not certain what sort of elixirs Gretchen has in mind for you, but you are happy she plans to help you in your quest.
“Thank you,” you say.
“I do need something from you to help me make one of my potions,” she says, looking at you over her shoulder. “A certain ingredient. Think you can help?”
“Certain ingredient?”
She turns slowly, her hands running from her breasts down to her plump mound beneath her taut panties. She takes a step towards you, her eyes heavily-lidded.
“Have a seat on the stool,” she says. “I’ll take care of everything.”
She practically pushes you down onto the three-legged stool. You stumble and land heavily on the stool as Gretchen strokes your shoulders, drops one knee between your thighs to press against your groin, and embraces you tightly. She pulls your face against the milk-scented mounds of her breasts.
“I promise I won’t take too much,” she moans, squeezing her tits against your face until you feel her milk dripping onto your tunic. At the moment, you wouldn’t care if she tied you to the stool and milked you for hours. You kiss her breasts, stroke her shapely hips, and moan lustily. She pulls away, running fingers through your hair and smiling down at you. “Such a good boy. We are going to beat them, Lucas!”
“Y-yeah,” you say, unable to disagree.
Gretchen slides her knee off the stool and drops to her knees on the floor of the barn. You lean your
shoulders backs, brace your hands on the seat of the stool, and watch as the comely cow girl frees your cock from your trousers. Your manhood is swollen and red, the tip glistening with precum as she grips it at the root in one hand and fondles your bollocks with the other.
“Oh, you’re already so excited,” she giggles. “Let’s get that milk flowing.”
She pumps her hand up and down your shaft, pausing after a few strokes to look up at you and lick the palm of your hand. Her warm hand returns to your cock and she skillfully strokes from your root to your sensitive tip, producing more trickling precum and making you moan with pleasure. She leans down and swipes her tongue across your tip.
“You’re almost ready to pop,” she says. “That’s it, Lucas. Here… cum on these…”
She leans her tits beneath your cock, aiming your tip towards her massive mounds. They shift and gently jiggle as she strokes you faster and faster. Your pleasure rises with each pump of her hand, the pressure building, your cum churning until…
“AHHHH!” You cry out, your hands tightening on the seat of the stool as your pleasure peaks.
“Yes, yes, cum for me,” she says, delight glowing in her blue eyes as she watches your cock.
Your manhood jerks in her grasp and you cum powerfully, streams of your thick milk splashing over her mounds and spilling into the valley between them. She releases your tensing bollocks to use her free hand and arm to press her tits together and trap your cum between her breasts. Her strokes slow as your pleasure recedes. She finally lifts her hand away as your shoulders sag and you pant to catch your breath.
“Very good,” she says. “I will transfer this to a bottle.”
She rises gingerly, one arm beneath her breasts and her other hand splayed with ropes of cum dangling between her fingers. She walks over to the work table and begins carefully scooping your cum into a bottle.
The Easily Defeated Hero's Monster Girl Adventure Page 37
