Overlord or Breeding Slave: Book 1: Sold in the City of Greed

by Jay Aury

  “Yesssss,” you moan, frantically rubbing yourself atop his prick. “So needy, my master. Please. May I have your mighty cock? I need it within me. Oh master, master, I beg you…”

  Boriga croaks with mirth, giving your plump rear a smack that makes you jolt with the pleasure of the impact, your heavy tits bouncing delightfully. “Ah, but how could I deny such a beauty? Very well, my dear. Take your master’s cock.”

  “Oh master,” you moan, lowering yourself onto his prick, feeling his slick wedge of a cock slide seamlessly into your pussy. “Thank youuuuuuu!”

  Your voice rises with bliss as you take the monster’s shaft, biting your lower lip with sweetest pleasure as your hips begin to move, plunging you up and down atop the frogman’s cock. Whimpers and pants soon escape you, especially when Boriga leans forward, opens his mouth wide, and engulfs your plump teat in his mouth.

  “Mnnnnn!” you groan as the frogman hungrily sucks, his huge tongue lathing your teat wonderfully. “Ohhhhh! Oh g-gods! Oh master yes. Yessss! Drink me. Drink me up! Oh fuck. All for you. All my… mnnn… my sweet milk for youuuuu!”

  You know you should feel shame for this. For fucking your pregnant body atop the fat monster, for surrendering your breast to him, your milk gushing into his mouth, your womb heavy with his young, but you have none. You relish the sensation of your submission to your master. The pleasured delights at his webbed hands. Ambition, pride, all thrown away in love of this creature who has fucked you full of his spawn.

  All of it worth it. All of it you would do again as Boriga groans and bucks, burying his cock in you, stuffing you with yet another load of his oily seed. As you wail in pleasure, welcoming another breeding by the monster, you know that this was always your destiny. Your fate. Your future.

  And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

  End

  Index Start Over

  Attack

  You don’t know much about gorgons, save the power of their eyes, let alone if she would be resistant to your magic. But not even her scales should be a match to your staff’s enchanted might. You let out a cry and surge forward, swinging the Staff of Domination at the gorgon, power surging up your enchanted weapon.

  The serpent woman hisses, twisted back, easily evading your clumsy blow. “A foolish endeavour, slut!” the serpent woman says.

  You spin to face her as she effortlessly slithers among the coins, your own footing amid the treasure far less certain. Especially when her tail snaps out, wrapping about your leg. You yelp as she suddenly yanks your feet out from under you, slamming you onto the gold, driving the air from your lungs. Reflexively, your fingers loosen on the staff.

  And then it’s sliding down the slope of the pile, and you’re being lifted into the air, dangled as you squirm helplessly.

  As you twist about in pitiful temper, you suddenly find yourself turned, face to face with the gorgon, and her ruby red gaze.

  “Look into my eyes, slave.”

  You’re too surprised to try and turn away, and a moment later it’s too late. The power in those eyes is like a hammer to your delicate mind. Her gaze shatters your thoughts in a single blow, holding you with all the compulsion of the adder and the rabbit.

  You tremble, resisting as best you can, trying to hold on to yourself as her eyes glow. As the gold of her gaze grows molten. Spiralling.

  “Do not resist,” she purrs.

  “Gnnn,” you gasp through clenched teeth.

  “Why resist? When peace is so close. So near. Just let go. Just surrender. Just stare deeper. Just let your mind melt. Just stare into the spirals. Submit to the spinning. Fall.

  “Fall.

  “Fall…”

  You feel the strength bleed from your limbs despite your best efforts. You try and fight back, but wonder why. Why, when those eyes are so beautiful. Why look away? Why resist? Why not sink into them. Slide into them. Submit to the whirling molten gold. The glorious power. The warmth of her hypnotic gaze.

  There’s no reason, you realize, your mind growing fuzzy. Your body sagging in bliss. Going limp in the grip of her coils. You smile dimly, your head filling with the warm gold of her gaze. Pushing out everything else that you were.

  “That’s a good slut,” Hassas purrs as she watches all intelligence vanish from your eyes. “Just submit to me. Just give in. Just… surrender.”

  “Surrender…” you moan as the gorgon reaches up, cupping your cheeks, squeezing them.

  “Yes. That’s it. Let all the bad thoughts just ooze out of your head. Only pleasure now, slave. Only delight. You want pleasure, don’t you?”

  You do. Pleasure is good. Pleasure is nice. Pleasure is the gorgon reaching up, flicking aside the girdle of silk, and gently running a finger along your cunny.

  “Yessssss!” you moan, shuddering as you’re gently laid down among the gold, the gorgon looming over you, never breaking eye contact as her powers pummel your will into nothing. Your whole body tingles with pleasure, the serpent woman’s finger continuing its tortuous strokes against your pussy. You try and reach down to join your hand to hers, but Hassas merely clicks her tongue.

  “None of that,” she croons, her coils wrapping about your chest, pinning your arms to your sides, squeezing your tits together in a way that makes you whimper with helpless delight. “Silly slaves don’t get to touch themselves. Only mistress gets to touch her. Only mistress gets to make her cum.

  “And when she cums,” Hasses continues, leaning in closer, smirking, revealing her fangs. “She will be mine. My golden beauty. Trapped in ecstasy forever more.”

  “Moooooore…” you moan, your hips bucking, riding her fingers as she lazily masturbates you. A small voice in the back of your mind screams to be heard. That what she just said means your damnation! That if you cum, you’d be transformed, becoming another golden statue, locked in an expression of blissful submission for the rest of time.

  But that’s such a small voice.

  And getting smaller with every stroke of the gorgon’s finger.

  “Are you going to cum for me, pet?” Hassas purrs, the serpents of her hair hissing, the bronze of her flesh shining. “Are you going to cum for me like a wonderful slave? A perfect doll? A pretty statuette? Show me your face. Show me your expression when bliss embraces you. Consumes you. Show me, slave. Show me.”

  “Yes!” you cry, riding her hand, wrapped in her coils, your mind lost in the clouds of pleasure. The emptiness of ecstasy, your body burning, your orgasm building, building, bubbling up until it cannot be denied. “Yes! Yes! Yessssssss!”

  Your wail rings among the gold and jewels of the hoard, your orgasm pumping through you in sudden hot waves of endless pleasure. You cry out again, riding her hands, feeling the sweetness of your peak spread through you in an orgasm stronger than anything you’ve known before.

  The wave of pleasure ebbs, and in its place comes a wonderful, tingling numbness. A golden sheen grows from your submissive pussy, spreading across you slowly. Utterly. Your eyes roll back, your body locked in the throes of your mind-numbing orgasm.

  Hassas lifts your gilded form up, admiring your blissful expression in its golden mask, your shapely form stretched with the completion of your pleasure.

  “Mmm. Some of my finest work,” the gorgon purrs as she adds you to the other statues littering the chamber.

  Bad End

  Index Start Over

  Magic

  You’ve never faced a monster like this before, but that doesn’t matter. You’re not some measly slave gotten lost in these halls. You’re the future overlord of the nether realms! And you have the power to make it so!

  You cast a hand towards the gorgon, careful not to be caught by her eyes. Magic surges up through you, singing through you, a triumph of purest power. You open your mouth, a cry of triumph leaving you as you cast your spell.

  Icy winds rush from your palm and towards the startled gorgon, crashing into the serpent bitch with all the cold of the deepest pits of hell. Steam bursts fro
m the serpent woman’s skin, wrapping her in clouds. You smirk.

  Until the steam clears, leaving a bemused gorgon untouched.

  “Really now?” she says, her voice a sibilant hiss that drops a leaden weight into the pit of your stomach. “Cold? Stupid slave. My scales burn with the heat of my master’s greed!”

  Your eyes widen. You miscalculated. Badly! Even as you struggle to formulate another spell, the gorgon points at you. “And I have sorcery of my own!”

  Golden magic crackles from her hands, racing across the space between you and slams into you like a whirlwind of golden sparks. You scream, which grows to a sudden higher pitch as you find your body contracting, shrinking. The spell drops you, stray sparks of magic still popping off as you land among the treasures, no larger than the coins that litter the floor.

  The sound of thunder hisses through the quiet. Your head jerks up to find the gorgon twisting across the divide, smirking down at you, her ruby eyes glowing with cruel light. You try and scramble away, but she deftly reaches down, plucking you from the ground and raising you to her face.

  “Mmm,” she purrs the sound of her voice deafening. “I do love the taste of sorcerers.”

  Panic freezes you as she opens her mouth, revealing the dark depths of her throat. You try and struggle free in a mad panic, but even at your full size, you hadn’t the strength to resist her grip. She dangles you over her open mouth, then lets you drop.

  “Nooooooo!” you scream as you fall into the dark cavern, her mouth snapping shut, fangs missing your head by a hair. Then you’re in the darkness, her tongue writhing around you, stroking you in ways that would almost be tantalizing if the situation were different. The warmth of her spiced breath gusts against you, your struggles making the gorgon giggle with mirth. Then, her tongue worms around you, pushing you back towards the deeper darkness of her throat.

  “No! No! Please! Don’t! Not this! Not thiiiiiiiiis!”

  Your scream fades as you slip down her tongue, and into the tunnel of her throat, pulled down deeper and deeper, descending into her stomach, where you will be dissolved within the potent acids. An ignominious end to the woman who would be the Overlord.

  Bad End

  Index Start Over

  Parlay

  You hold back. Maybe… maybe you don’t have to fight. Maybe there’s another option here.

  “Wait!” you call. “Hassas, I wish to speak!”

  “Do you now?” the gorgon says, her scales whispering over the gold on the floor as she twists lazily about you. “If you look into my eyes, I believe we could have a great conversation. Oh yes indeed. Such sweet words you would say…”

  “They are not for you,” you say. “They are for your master, Avarick!”

  The gorgon cackles. “Oh really?” she says. “So you seek a meeting with the master? Whyever should I help with that?”

  “For the reward which it will surely bring.”

  The hiss of the scales pauses abruptly. It resumes a second later, but she certainly paused. You gasp as her coils are suddenly around your legs, but fight the instinct to strike out with your staff or spells.

  “Oh really?” she says again, her coils working around your waist, lifting you into the air and close to her. You can feel the intensity of her eyes and hear the hissing of her serpentine hair. “What reward might that be, little one?”

  You bristle at her condescension, but fight back the instinct to berate her. “I am the heir to the Overlord. Mistress of the Citadel. The Princess of Pride! I have come to speak to your master about his fealty, and joining me in becoming the ruler of the nether world once more.”

  The gorgon bursts out laughing. “You? You are the daughter of the Overlord?”

  “You doubt me?” you say hotly.

  The gorgon chuckles again, her scales smooth as they rub against your naked flesh, warm as gold that has sat out in the sun for days and days. “Hmmm. Perhaps not. Only the greatest of fools or the most prideful of brats would enter the Vault to try and speak with the master. Perhaps you are who you say you are.”

  Relief pours through you like a balm. “Then, you will bring me to him? If he joins me, your master will surely reward you.”

  “This is true,” Hassas says. “And if you fail, he will still reward me for bringing him such a prize. He has been looking for a new slut to chain to his throne.”

  That wasn’t what you wanted to hear. Nonetheless, you stay quiet, sneaking a glance at the gorgon’s thoughtful face, her finger tapping her chin. At last, the bronzed beauty nods. “Yessssss. I think I shall bring you to him.”

  “Oh, good,” you say, relaxing a twinge. “Then, can you let me down?”

  “Hmm. I think not.”

  “H-hey!” you squeak indignantly as the gorgon slithers away, carrying you in her twisting coils. Hassas merely laughs as she flows easily over the treasures of the chamber, her body twisting this way and that deeper into the glittering world of the Vault. You steam with indignation, but force your mouth shut. You’ve achieved your objective. There’s no sense in testing the gorgon further.

  The journey is swift, taking you over hills of gold and around mountains of gems. The route is dizzying, and you’re suddenly glad the gorgon is your guide. You’re increasingly doubtful you could have found your way alone, even with your cursed mark pulsing and throbbing with growing desire.

  You know you’ve arrived when your womb fairly throbs with need, just before an immense pair of golden doors. The gorgon pushes them open, sidling down a hall of burnished gold. Pillars made of golden statues of men bent beneath the weight of the ceiling line the way. Huge displays filled with invaluable artifacts and gold encrusted items are held behind glass walls. Your heart beats faster as you near the end of the hall, where a podium holds a vast desk, behind which can only be the Dragon of Greed.

  Avarick sits among a desk littered with scales and abacuses and gold. A draconic demon nearly two heads taller than you. Three if you count his curling horns. His scales are a shimmering carpet of gold inlaid with precious jewels, his eyes burning blue and a cigar chomped between his teeth. A thick fur coat drapes him like a cape, and in his claws, he grips with surprising delicateness a sheaf of report he’s in the midst of reading.

  When the great doors groan open, he turns his eye on you and Hassas, and the feel of his gaze is like a gunshot right into your womb. Lust pops and burns treacherously through your veins, and it takes all your effort not to swoon in the presence of the sin lord.

  Avarick lowers the papers, shifting an elbow onto the table to peer down at you and Hassas. “Well?” he says, his voice smooth as molten gold, smoke oozing from his cigar. “What’s this?”

  “Master,” the gorgon says, her voice soft with deference as she dips in a bow. “I have brought you something.”

  “So I see,” he says, glancing idly to a huge clock in the corner. “And I trust it’s worth it. Time is money, Hassas, as you know?”

  “An intruder, my master. But, she also claims more. That she is the Princess of Pride, and has come to make you an offer.”

  Avarick’s eyebrow flicks up. His smirk widens, and the demon rises slowly with a soft creak of metal. “Has she now?”

  You shiver as Avarick slowly steps around his desk, his fur coat rustling around him, his every step banging, sizzling on the floor. This, then, is a sin lord, A ruler of one of the seven realms of hell. He towers over you, the smoke of his cigar twisting in the air, his burnished scales glittering with inlaid gems. A fortune armours him. A flick of his claws has the gorgon release you, letting you stagger as she plops you down.

  “Leave us,” he commands.

  Hassas once more bows before slithering from the room, letting the doors slam shut behind her. Avarick hasn’t once turned his burning eyes from you.

  “So! Here you are. Lorrick’s girl, eh? You certainly have his brazenness coming before me.”

  You force yourself not to quail before the demon lord, drawing yourself up. “I… I am h
ere to speak to you.”

  “Is that right?” he says, puffing on his cigar, but his eyes are amused, wandering down to your mons. He smirks. “Looks like that’s not all.”

  You flush, glancing down to see that the cursed mark has burned through the makeup you wore, throbbing with a glow, desperate to taste this monster’s cock. Already you can feel its insidious work upon you, urging you to offer yourself to this demon. This monster. To bend over, raise your ass like a bitch in heat and beg for his cock within you.

  “I… I…”

  Avarick smirks wider, revealing his fangs. He prowls closer, his shadow heavy as it falls over you, the heat of his body a furnace making the air shimmer around him. “What? What did you come to me for?”

  “I… I came here to g-gain your fealty,” you gasp. “To undo my curse. To name me Overlord!”

  Avarick chuckles, exhaling another plume of acrid smoke. “You got balls, girl,” he says, leaning in closer. “Gotta give you that. Your father crushed hell under his heel when he demanded our allegiance. All the seven realms fell to him before he tried invading the mortal world. Damned if it wasn’t stupid to do, but the old man had it in him to demand loyalty. So why,” he says, leaning in yet closer, his teeth but an inch from your nose. “Why should I follow you?”

  For Peace

  For Profit

  For Pleasure

  For Pleasure

  His question burns you. His attention thrills you. What do you have to offer this demon? This monster? This master of his realm? Treasures he has in plenty, and all you have is yourself.

  But maybe that’s it.

  You just wish it wasn’t so dearly tempting. Just being in the demon’s presence is sending your heart racing with lust. Your pussy fairly dripping. Your breasts tingling to be touched and stroked and used. The cursed mark yearns for you to be bred. To yield. To surrender yourself to his desires.