by Jay Aury
“Yes, mistress.”
“Such a naughty slut,” you breathe, your blood warming with the role you’re playing. Your heart beating faster as you feel the succubus quiver with anticipation. It does your ego good to have such a willing slave. “And such a naughty, deviant slut needs to be… punished.”
Your hand comes down hard on her ass. Loria gasps, jolting, her eyes shooting wide open as the crack of your striking palm echoes in the room. “Ooooh!” she moans.
“Do you like that?”
“Y-yes.”
“Yes what?” you say, giving her pert bottom another stinging spank.
“Ah!” the succubus cries. “Y-yes mistress!”
“That’s right,” you say, breathing heavily, smirking widely. “I’m your mistress. I am your Overlord. And you. Will! Remember! It!”
You punctuate each command with another stinging smack onto her ass. Loria yelps, bucking with every blow, but you can feel how much she loves it. The evidence is trickling down your thighs as the demoness soaks through her panties.
“Who is your mistress?” you demand, relishing every stinging blow.
“You!” the demoness cries. “You are! Mistressss!”
Again and again your palm cracks against her behind, until her blue flesh glows a pretty purple. You can feel the heat glowing off her rump as you gently rest your hand again on those pert globes, gently rubbing your palm against her rear, making her pant and whimper as the stinging flesh is soothed with your ministrations.
“Good girl,” you breathe, panting, out of breath as if it were you who had received those punishing blows.
“Thank… thank you, mistress,” Loria says.
“And good girl’s get extra rewards,” you say, your finger teasing lower, gliding along the seam of her pussy.
“Mnnnn!” the succubus moans, her hips twitching as you stroke that tender slit, caressing her absolutely soaking cunny.
“You really do adore a good spanking.”
“Yes, mistress,” she moans. “I’m an ass whore. A bottom bitch. A spank slut.”
“Is that right?” you say, tugging her underwear down around her ankles, your fingers sliding back up, then in and out of your servant’s soaking cunt, making her twitch and gasp and moan. “And do you like this?”
“Soooo muuuuuch!” your prim minion moans.
“Are you going to cum, then? Cum with your ass red… er… purple from spanking? My fingers in your pussy? Bent over my knees like some naughty child?”
“Yes. Oh yes! I’m gonna… gonna cum, mistress. Going to cum. Oh please. Please! Let me cum, mistress. Need to cum. Need to cum for you.”
This is exactly what you need. This feeling of power. Of control. After all that’s happened today, a feeling of being so utterly in control of another person’s pleasure tingles through your every nerve, surging up through your heart, throbbing in the hollow space beneath your stomach, where the runes mark you with their curse.
“Then cum, Loria. Cum, slut. Cum for mistress, slave!”
“Y-yesssss!” your demon slut wails, shuddering in sweetest pleasure, moaning as her body tightens with the melody of her orgasm, her pussy convulsing around your plunging fingers as she cums around you like the slut she is.
Loria gasps, sagging atop you, moaning softly in pleasure. You slowly draw your fingers out of her pussy and put them to her lips. “Clean them, slave.”
Without a moment’s hesitation, Loria’s soft lips wrap about your digits and tenderly suck them clean, a shiver of delight working through you as her tongue deftly swirls about your fingers. Ooooh, that gives you some ideas…
Her lips slide off your fingers, and Loria gingerly gets off your lap. She draws herself up, smoothing her robe and adjusting her glasses. In moments, it’s like you never had her bent over your knees while you paddled her ass. Save for a delicate purple flush on her lovely cheeks. “Thank you, mistress. I greatly enjoyed that.”
“Me too,” you say.
“I am pleased to hear it. Almost as pleased as I am to give you this.”
Curious, you hold out your hand, and Loria drops something into your stinging palm. You look suspiciously at the ring she’s given you.
“What’s this?”
“A ring.”
“I can see that.”
“Of course, mistress. But it is what you don’t see that is better. That is a tool of summoning, and from it, you may conjure a weapon of some use. I took a look in the armory, mistress, and after some searching, I found the Staff of Domination.”
Your brows rise sharply. You’ve heard of the staff, of course. Your father once wielded it himself while on campaign. Until he upgraded to something more robust. You turn over the ring, feeling the magic radiate from it, and slide it on. You concentrate, and from the signs in the ring bleed winding coils of darkness. You gasp as a staff suddenly forms in your hand. Black as obsidian, it’s cool to the touch, its shape like the roots of a tree winding up to wrap about a leering skull.
“Hmm,” you say, feeling the latent power in the relic. “Impressive.”
“Quite so. That staff will increase the power of any blow it inflicts tenfold.”
You glance up at Loria. “That’s all it does?”
“At the most basic level, mistress. It perhaps has other functions, but your father was not free with them, nor how to use it.”
“So, from our armory, loaded with mystical weapons of immense power, you got me a stick that can hit things very hard?”
Loria raises a brow. “There were other weapons, mistress. True. But do you know how to wield any of them?”
You open your mouth. Close it. She… actually has a point. After all, with your personal sorcery and your father’s authority, you’ve never even been in a real fight, nor took any interest in the tools of war. And trying to use arcane weapons without understanding them is liable to go as badly for you as whoever you’re fighting. “Ah,” you say. “Right. Well, thank you. Loria.”
“It was my pleasure, mistress. Now, we’d best prepare to depart. You need to get ready to meet with the Dragon of Greed. I will begin prepping the portal for our departure.”
“Ah, good,” you say, banishing the staff, the bands that form it dissolving back into the ring. “It’ll be handy to arrive right in his keep.”
Loria cocks her head. “Oh no, mistress,” she says. “No doubt Avarick will have already locked down his lair in Mammon. You’ll need to enter his glittering halls from outside.”
“I will?” you say.
“Oh yes. He will have been concerned about an attack on his keep by the other demon lords. The Vault is where he keeps his many treasures, and he will not risk them idly. However, by that very notion, if you are able to convince him to join you, he shall be your most ardent supporter.”
“Why is that?” you say.
“Simple, mistress,” your demoness says. “If he has agreed to serve you, it will be because he thinks you are his.”
“Oh,” you say, feeling again that ache from the rune marking your mons. “Yay.”
Mammon
Threaten Boriga
Temper flares within you. To think such a… a… pathetic creature would dare give you an ultimatum. You! The Princess of Pride! The mistress of the Citadel! The future Overlord!
“You dare threaten me?” you growl, rising to your feet before the corpulent monster, who watches you with mild amusement as the waters drip from your firm breasts. “You dare threaten to sell me? I am the daughter of the Overlord! You should be begging to kiss my feet for the opportunity to get in my good graces! But instead, you dare the threaten to sell me like some common slave!”
“I do,” Boriga says.
His lazy confidence only infuriates you more. You fairly tremble with rage as you tower over the monster. “You… you… bastard! I should flay your hide and use it for shoes! You’ll help me, or you’ll feel my wrath!”
“And,” the monster muses, idly toying with his amulet, “what f
orm would that take?”
“This!”
You throw your arm out towards him, magic surging up through you in a flood of euphoria. You feel it gather in your palm, crackle with arcane might.
Fizzle in a spark.
You stare, then bring your hand back around. You snap your fingers, but only a disconsolate spark of blue magic comes, and even that quickly fades. “What…”
Boriga bursts into great, croaking laughter. “Foolish girl,” the monster ribbits, grabbing your arm and easily yanking you down to his lap, flush against his bulk as he smirks at you.
“H-hey!” you squeak, pulling away without success. “Release me! What have you done!”
“Did you think I would invite you in here defenceless?” the monster croaks, his arm wrapped about you, palming a breast. “Your magic will do you no good here. Avarick is not the only one with treasures,” he says, fondling his amulet.
You gasp as his webbed hand squeezes your plush breast. Treacherous arousal shoots through you, burning in your core and the cursed mark. Your head spins as the enchantment threatens to overwhelm you, your breasts ache in the hands of the fat monster as he fondles you. “N-no! That’s…”
“A nullifier of magic. Of course, it doesn’t work unless attuned to the caster. And you were so agreeable in chatting with me while it locked down your powers. How kind of you.”
Horror wars with a growing lust within you. Your core throbs with need. Your ass aching to be touched and stroked, even as your breasts are molded in the monster’s hungry hands. Your head spins. Your body instinctively arches against the monster’s bulk, pressing yourself against his slimy skin.
“Y-you bastard,” you moan.
Boriga laughs. “Who was it who just threatened to kill me? Hm? Silly mortal. But don’t worry. I will not claim your womb for my own. Such a prize is far too valuable in the city of greed. But I would be remiss not to get a taste…”
You groan as he shifts against you, pulling you up against his bulk, his head dipping and wide mouth engulfing your breast. Quite literally. His mouth is so big, it wraps around half your sizeable teat, giving it a long, hungry suck.
“Mnnnn!” you moan, the sensation unlike anything you’ve known before, and damn your cursed brand, it only makes you hornier! Your body betrays you, feverishly rubbing you against the bulk of the frogman. His lips suck against your teat, his massive tongue lathing your tender nipple.
“Ah! Ah! Mnnnn!” you cry out as his hand dives beneath the waters and cups your mons. “Ooooh! You… you bastard! I… I’ll m-make you suffer for this yoooooh!”
Your threats die in a heady moan of pleasure as Boriga’s webbed finger plunges into your helpless pussy. The only solace is that, submerged as you are, he can’t know how wet he’s making you. The traitorous mark pulses on your mons, pleasure surging through you as you pant and buck and twitch with every stroke of his finger. Every suck on his mouth. Every squeeze on your other breast.
“Ah. Ah! You… you… ooooooh!”
You wail with submissive delight as you cum, your whole body shuddering, bucking against his hand and tongue, your orgasm so intense your mind blanks with pleasured delight.
Boriga chortles and lifts his mouth from your breast, leaving a shameful ring where his mouth sucked your plump teat. “Mmm. Delightful. You will make a wonderful prize.”
“You… you bastard,” you gasp, but it lacks feeling. A final sally of a defeated woman, bested and pleasured.
The massive monster merely chortles. “Do not worry, oh Princess of Pride. You will not lack for a master long.” He nods, chins wobbling, and you hear one of the guards approach. You can’t even muster the willpower to struggle as the frogman slips a collar around your throat. You gasp as you feel it tighten, marks burning on the leather. A sudden loss makes you realize that the thing has sealed your magic.
Boriga chuckles, taking the other end of your new collar’s leash. “Hmm. Excellent. And now, a reward, don’t you think?”
He gives the leash a tug, forcing you to his lap where his slimy cock juts from his abdomen. Shame burns your face, even as you nuzzle his manhood, the mark on your mons urging you to submit to the monster who has dominated you.
“I… I’ll get you for this,” you growl, even as you lift your head and sheathe his slimy cock between your lips.
Boriga croaks with mirth as you begin to bob. “Hmmm. We shall see, slave. We shall see.”
Sold by the Frogman
Seduce Boriga
As repulsive as this monster is, you know he’s your only way into the Vault. And though you may not have the full weight of the Overlord behind you, you are still beautiful, and he is still a man. Or, at least, male. You think.
Well, either way, you’re about to find out.
“Boriga,” you say, sliding along the bench, the steaming waters of the pool wafting about you like a cloudy veil. “Sure, you could sell me, but think of what you would lose.”
The monster watches you with those big eyes of his, his neckless head moving, tracking you as you cross the pool. His wide mouth rises in a smirk. “Hmmm. And what might that be?”
“Your assistance to the future Overlord would hardly be forgotten once I take my throne,” you observe, resting a hand on the monster’s leg. From the corner of your eye you see his pink, wedged cock tease up from the surface of the water. Your repulsion pales to the desire oozing through you from the cursed mark on your womb. In fact, it only accents your growing lust. You smile at the creature, your lashes low, eyes warm. “And besides, you are already a very rich creature. No doubt one of the richest in all Mammon.”
“Hmm… It is true that I am quite wealthy,” Boriga hums.
“So what is some more money?” you ask, pressing up against him, your breasts mashed to his flabby flesh. “When the rewards I offer are so much… sweeter…”
Your hand glides to his lap, your fingers wrapping around his slimy cock. Even underwater you can feel the ooze that coats his amphibian flesh. You shudder, and you’d be lying if you said it was fully revulsion. Damn that cursed mark! Already you can feel its insidious lust pulse through you with every beat of your quickening heart. Your cheeks are flushed. The heat of the baths making you feel lightheaded and panting.
Boriga groans, a heavy croaking sound as your hand begins to move on his cock, stroking him with an expert touch. You never thought you would ever be reduced to this, pleasuring a bloated frogman in his baths, naked, frantically trying to convince him not to sell you as a slave.
And yet, you can’t deny a strange, sinful thrill coursing through you, tingling in your full breasts and slick cunny. Somehow, this debasement only makes you hornier, your nipples peaking, hard as diamonds as you rub your breasts against his great body, leaning up against him, your face so near to his.
“Master Boriga,” you say.
“Hmmm,” the monster moans. “You make some… interesting arguments, my dear.”
You gasp as his webbed hand engulfs your plump bottom. He pulls you up, and you don’t resist his wide lips kissing you. You shudder, moaning as his lipless mouth moves against your own, his massive tongue sliding out, stroking your lips. Shivers of pleasured delight race through you from the cursed brand upon your mons.
You break the kiss, panting, head spinning. “Mmm. Boriga. We could do so much together. If you helped me, your rewards would be great. Let me show you…”
You slide off him and deeper into the pool, kneeling between his great legs. Boriga’s eyes follow you, fairly glowing as you grow level with his amphibian cock. Its inhuman nature is nothing new to you. You’ve lived in the nether realm all your life. Yet never have you been in such a position. Never have you been adoring a monster’s cock with your hands, getting it slickened with its own slime. Never have you leaned forward, opened your mouth, and slid your lips down such a foul cock.
The taste of his slime almost makes you gag, and yet you cannot pull away. You bob, your tongue swirling on his inhuman shaft, shud
dering in delight as you feel his slimy cock twitch within your mouth.
“Hmmmm!” Boriga moans, his webbed hand coming to rest atop your head. “Yessss. Oh my. I think… hmmm… you may have missed your calling, my… ah… dear. You should have… ooooh… started as a merchant! Such skillful lips… hah… would soon have the business world at your feet!”
“Mmm,” you moan, bobbing faster, urged on by his hand. His cock slides into your throat, throbbing with pleasure. You can fairly feel the heat of his impending orgasm. The awareness of it thrills through you. You need him to cum. Oh you need his cum. You need to swallow this monster’s seed. Drink it down. Love it. Adore it.
Boriga’s breathing has grown ragged, his throat swelling with hungry croaks. He pumps his cock into your mouth and then, with a great, thunderous croak, he cums. The force of it nearly propels you off his inhuman shaft. Huge spurts of thick, monster seed pump into your mouth. Your eyes threaten to roll back as you drink it down, groaning as you guzzle his foul cum, nearly drowning as you frantically swallow every drop, feeling it ooze down your throat to gather in your belly.
At last you manage to lift your lips from him, panting, your stomach heavy with his spunk. Boriga gives you no time to recover. His hands grasp you, tugs you up onto his lap. You squeak with surprise, his amphibian cock rubbing against your stomach as he pulls you against him, kissing you roughly. You submit to his lips, your body tingling with pleasured sensitivity, a moan trebling through you as you paw at his bloated belly, his cock pressed between you, rubbing your stomach, making you whimper as it presses against your cursed rune, every impact a shock to your tight core.
He breaks the kiss, grinning down at you. “Hmmm. A delight, my dear. And one we don’t need to surrender. I will help you into the Vault, if you so desire. Or…”
“O-or?” you pant.
