by Jay Aury
“I… if you join me, I will… um… I would be w-willing to offer you my… my attentions…”
Avarick’s grin deepens. “Really?” he says, taking a step nearer. You try and back up, but your legs are rooted to the spot. He reaches down, his scaly hand cupping your mons brazenly, and a gasp escapes you. “Looks to me like you’re more than willing already.”
A moan escapes you before you can hide it. Your body pushes your groin against his hand, your teeth nibbling on your lower lip as one of his fingers brazenly pushes inside of you, stroking you until your legs quiver, threatening to drop you in an instant.
“Hmmm. Seems like you’re not all that confident being the queen of hell, eh? If this is all it takes to make you whimper.”
You squeak as his other hand moves around you, filling his palm with your ass. You gasp as he gives it a squeeze.
“Hmm. Not bad. Not bad at all. Men would pay good gold for a feel of these.”
“I… ah… I…”
“You what?” he grins around his cigar, and exhales a sudden cloud of smoke into your face.
You gasp, staggered by it. The scent is thick and pungent, but strangely attractive. Your head spins under its influence, your lashes fluttering as your hips begin to move, riding you atop his plunging finger. Oh gods. Oh gods, are you really doing this? Are you really this weak?
Of course you are, a voice within your head whispers.
You can’t deny it. Your body burns with need. Your head pounds with lust. The demon chuckles, the sibilant sound whispering through you.
“Over the desk, slut,” he commands.
“Y-yes…”
Refusal doesn’t enter into it. Avarick is an alpha in both spirit and literal sense. As his finger schlicks free of your pussy, the emptiness is unbearable. You need to be filled again. You must be! You walk on shaking legs to his desk, barely making it before you collapse atop it, your breasts providing a perfect cushion.
You hear the Dragon of Greed move in behind you, the creak of his body like some golden statue come to life. His hot hands land on your ass, making you gasp, your hips buck, and legs instinctively spread.
“Look at that. A sight worth half the Vault. The Princess of Pride bending down to welcome my cock. Your father would be so disappointed. Or, perhaps, he’d be delighted. The old man was always a bit odd.”
“F-fuck him,” you moan, ass twitching under his clothes. “Fuck meee!”
“That’s what I like to hear. A woman who knows what she wants. And here I have it for you. So have some, slut!”
Without further ado, the demonic dragon thrusts, burying his cock in her twitching pussy.
And heaven has come to hell.
You squeal in bliss as your inner walls clamp down, as your body at last is given what it craves. As at last you feel the demon’s cock bury itself deep within you. Clutching the desk, panting, you thrust back against his cock, the feel of his claws on your ass tingling with delight as you welcome your breeding.
“Yesssss!” you moan. “More! Please! Nnn! Fuck me. Fuck me! Breed me!”
“Ha! Now this is rewarding,” the demon groans as he pounds his reptilian cock into your welcoming cunny, your every whimper and moan ringing in the golden halls of the demon lord. “Yessss. Now we’re cookin’! Fuck, girl. If I’d known how fuckable you were, I’d a paid off your father an age ago to claim this pussy!”
“Don’t… don’t need gold. Only cock. Need cock. Need fucking!” you moan with brazen shamelessness.
“That’s the spirit. Now… hold on… ‘Cause here comes yer reward!”
Avarick howls those words as he buries his cock within your tight depths. You can feel his seed churning, his cock swelling, the rune on your mons blazing with the nearness of your breeding. Your eyes open wide, your lips parting in a great O as you feel his cum boil into you, flooding your depths, surging into your welcoming womb.
“Yessssss!” you scream in purest joy, the curse mark flaring, burning itself into your pale flesh as you accept your master’s essence. As you surrender utterly to his seed. You shudder, twitching in ecstasy as you sag atop the table, panting, ass twitching as your every muscle surrender to the ecstasy that flows through you like sparks.
You whimper as the ashes of Avarick’s cigar land on your lower back. Casually, the lord of greed spits out the stub, flicking another cigar from a pocket and into his mouth. A snap of his fingers conjures a flame to light it, and he casually puffs at his cigar as his hips lazily begin to saw in and out of you anew.
“Hmnnn. Not bad. Not bad at all,” the dragon demon says, blowing another gust of smoke into the air. “I think you’ll make a fine trophy wife, slut.”
“Th… thank youuuuu,” you moan beneath him, whimpering as his lazy thrusts stir the cum which fills you, your head stuffed with pleasure and submission to this glorious creature.
Avarick chuckles and gives your ass a spank, making you twitch and moan. “Hmm. You’re welcome. But I can’t have you walking around like you were. We’ve got a reputation to uphold. And a trophy wife needs to look it, doesn’t she?”
“You… you want to… to dress me up,” you pant.
“Been thinking about it,” he muses.
“Oh… oh Avarick that… that sounds…” The corners of your lips twitch. “Divine.”
Avarick laughs again. “Ha ha! Atta girl. I think this is the start of a beautiful relationship.”
Trophy Wife
Trophy Wife
Once again, you’re admiring yourself in a mirror, albeit in far different circumstances from before. You turn slowly this way and that, taking in the changes your husband has wrought upon your flesh.
Skin once pale as cream is now bronzed like polished gold. Your hips are curvier, breasts heavier, and lashes lower with sultry hunger. Your breasts are capped with golden plates, your girdle a golden chain supporting a V of the same metal to hide your pussy. Your bellybutton is pierced with a ruby, your ears with silver hoops. More chains and bracelets and jewels drape your arms, neck and ankles like the cheapest of Mammon street sluts, but you don’t mind. This is what your husband wanted, and this is what he gets.
You smirk, the heavy, snow white fur coat hanging loosely from your shoulders, only the front open to reveal your blessed assets. It’s just a shame you can’t wear more jewelry. You glance about the room at the chests and closets overflowing with treasures and garments and prizes. All for you to wear to showcase your husband’s wealth. Avarick doesn’t mind. They’re all his, and so are you.
The metal door to your chamber swings open, and you smile as you feel the heat that seeps from Avarick’s scales wash over your back. You shiver as his claws rest on your shoulders, his head dipping down and forked tongue licking your throat.
“Admiring yourself again?” he says.
“Mnnn. Just trying on the newest furs,” you purr. “I love them, by the way.”
“’Course you do. They’re the finest that money can buy. But I got you something new to wear too.”
You laugh. “Darling! I can barely wear all the things you’ve gotten me already.”
“Mmm. Been thinking about that, and I realized there was one place we hadn’t decorated yet.”
You look down as he fetches something from a deep pocket, and gasp at the stubby golden rod he holds. One loaded with smooth jewels and shining with lubricating oil.
“Is…”
“That’s right. Now, shall we?”
You giggle in delight, eagerly bending yourself over your vanity, flicking up the hem of your coat to reveal the puckered star of your asshole. “Mmm. Please, do it, beloved.”
Avarick chuckles and teases the blunt shape against your asshole. You moan as the plug pushes against that tight ring, willing your body to relax and welcome the intruder. Not just because you want to please your master. The idea of having an item that could buy the freedom of a boatload of slaves sitting in your tight bottom is deliciously depraved. Your heart beats quicker and your
pussy moistens against the gold plate covering it with the image. At last, with a soft gasp, you feel the plug plunge into you, settling firmly in your ass, the bottom topped with a huge ruby that sparkles teasingly from your bronzed cheeks.
“Marvellous,” Avarick says.
“Mmm. It feels wonderful, dear,” you moan, wiggling your bottom, feeling it shift within you and catching the sparkle of the ruby. “Oh, but, surely you deserve something too?”
He grins, showing off his fangs around the smoking cigar. “Hmm. What did you have in mind?”
You giggle, spinning about and squatting before your master. You give him a teasing look from beneath your lashes as you slide down the front of his pants, revealing for your appreciation the shape of his smooth, wedged cock. The cruel tool make you drool, the heat nearly scalding as you slide your hands up and down his hot shaft.
“Ah,” Avarick says, flashing another fanged grin. “I see.”
You return the look, opening your lips, the gold stud piercing your tongue clinking against your teeth as you lean in and take his inhuman shaft in your mouth.
“Mmmmm!” Avarick moans as you begin to bob, the stud in your tongue teasing along the underside of his cock, your soft lips forming a perfect seal as you suck him. You always enjoy going down on your benefactor, but having a buttplug worth as much as a dukedom grinding into your asshole as you do so? Why, it’s almost as good as when he had your nipples pierced with rubies and you gave him a boobjob.
Almost equal to when he had your clit pierced and then fucked you deep into the night.
Almost as good as when he bought you all those bangles and armlets, and they rang and chimed like a drunken percussion band as he absolutely railed your tight pussy on your bed.
You smile around his cock, sucking harder, adoring it with your studded tongue. Mnnn. You hear him hiss, feel his grip tighten in your hair as he grows nearer to his orgasm. You bob faster. Faster. Needing him to cum. Wanting his seed. Needing to drink down every drop.
“Yesss. Yesss! Fuck! Yes! Take it, slut. Take it alllllll!”
Avarick hisses with pleasure, burying his shaft between your lips as at last he cums. You moan, eyes fairly rolling back as his hot seed pumps into your mouth with great bursts. The metallic taste is like you’re drinking gold, and goodness knows it feels like it as you wantonly suck down every drop, removing your lips at last with a soft gasp and a pop of your lips.
Avarick releases your hair, smirking down at you. You flutter your lashes, the diamond dust in them sparkling. “Did I do good, daddy?” you coo teasingly.
“Good enough. Now, on the bed. Time for some real fun.”
You slink onto the bed, the finest silken sheets money can buy gliding tantalizingly against your sensitive skin. With another flutter of lashes you turns about, undoing the plate that guards your pussy, letting it fall as you raise your ass like a bitch in heat, the ruby which tops the plug winking.
It seems almost strange that you once abhorred the idea of becoming this demon’s bitch. Especially when you feel his cock plunge into your pussy, the ring that pierces your clit rubbing against his shaft, making you buck and squeal as you cum almost instantly, the first of many orgasms. For you are the trophy wife of the Lord of Greed.
And a high price one you are.
End
Index Start Over
Passage of Silver
You make your choice. As the group draws nearer and nearer the central path you hang back until you’re at the rear of the line. As the guards push their captives towards the middle hall, you suddenly break from the group, dashing down the side passage before anyone is any the wiser.
The slap of your feet on the glittering floor is all you hear. No bellows of alarm. No howls of fury from your lizard guards. You slow, looking back, but no one pursues. You made it.
Now, let’s just hope you made it somewhere helpful.
Ahead of you stretches silver halls lit with lamps that burn a burnished cobalt light. Fortunately for you, the Citadel is always cool, so the chilly air here is hardly uncomfortable. In fact, it’s quite familiar, though you do wish your nipples didn’t tent the filmy cloth you wear quite so obviously.
“Damn,” you mutter as you hurry ahead. “Where is he…”
It’s a good question. The mark emblazoned on your mons pulses with power, drawing you ever deeper into the silvery halls and towards Avarick. The corridors you walk down are unoccupied, but far from empty. Huge silver vaults line the way, each massive door with a number written on them. On and on they stretch, filling the cavernous halls, the soft slap of your bare feet echoing weirdly.
You’d be worried about getting lost, if your mons didn’t tug you ever onward. The cool air makes your skin tingle and your body ache pleasantly. Your eyes wander about the vast vaults as you climb icicle encrusted stairs and cavernous treasure chambers. Eventually, you turn a corner and stop.
You stand inside a sudden rounded chamber, supported by pillars glistening with silver. A huge statue depicting a naked man of stunning physique stands against the far wall, his gaze set towards the domed ceiling. Before you are three podiums rising out of the floor. On one is a velvet pillow on which sits a crown. On another, a collar of velvety black and encrusted with shining diamonds like stars in a ribbon of night. On a third sits a sceptre with a blunted tip that looks disturbingly phallic, and you catch yourself wondering how the rubies and sapphires glittering down its length would feel within you.
You can sense the magic laden in those treasures fairly vibrate through the air. They are very impressive looking, but as you gaze at them, you wonder why they’ve been left out. Surely even Avarick – actually, especially Avarick – would thing someone would take them. Shouldn’t he have left a guard?
Which is when you realize that there’s a new sound in the chamber. A groaning of ancient metal. You spin about, and find the silver statue of the man from the corner stepping down with a thunderous bang of metal on stone. His departure reveals a doorway in the wall, but that’s of small interest compared to the way he looms before you, eyes burning brightly as his hands move, forming huge fists.
“INTRUUUUDERRRRRR,” the golem rumbles.
Well, great. That’s not good.
Wait
Parlay
Attack
Seduce
Magic
Seduce
“Well hey there cutie,” you say to the statue, flashing it a sultry smile.
A smile which falls along with the statue’s foot, which crushes you into a mushy red paste.
Bad End
Index Start Over
For Profit
If going through Avarick’s vault has taught you anything, it’s that he’s a bit of a pervert, but also, that he likes money.
Like, a lot.
Which means you have a pretty good idea of how to deal with him.
“For profits,” you tell the demon.
Avarick hisses softly, his smirk widening. “You think you can earn me that gold, eh?”
“Of course! You grew rich under my father,” you say.
He belts out another laugh. You flush under his mocking mirth. Dammit. The heat in your loins is only growing. Twisting lust, as molten as the gold of the demon’s forges, coil in the space beneath your stomach, twisting their hungry reach up and through your form. Damn that curse!
“You think I made my fortune thanks to your daddy?” he demands.
You feel the first twinge of doubt. “Didn’t you?”
“No! I made it my own! I am the lord of Greed through my own efforts. These claws,” he says, holding them out, “have ripped the treasures and the hearts from a hundred enemies. This body,” he says, pushing out his chest, his burnished scales gleaming, “has turned aside a hundred blades. This vault!” he cries, throwing up his arm, his voice echoing through the gleaming halls, “I built from blood and stone and a disregard for even modest labour laws. Your father was merely another vessel for my profiting.”
You swallow hard, your eyes glued to his gleaming chest, the heat of his body throbbing through you, only exacerbating your arousal. Your pussy twitches with desire, your juices glistening down your inner thighs. “I… I…”
“And yet you come here,” Avarick says, leaning in close, blowing a cloud of his cigar smoke into your face. “And think to buy me?”
You cough, your head pounding as you inhale the pungent smoke. You blink up at him. Lost. Your mind whirling. Your body trembling with slavish need, the cursed mark throbbing through you.
“But you got balls, girl. Not literally, but balls of brass coming all the way here,” Avarick grins, cupping your chin, the feel of his talons making your legs weak and your thoughts muffled. “So how’s about a different arrangement. One I think you’ll be more accustomed to.”
“Wh-what?” you gasp.
He jerks his head at his desk. “Bend over there, and I’ll fuck you raw. My new trophy wife, to have and to hold. How’s about it? You ready to get greedy?”
Your pulse pounds with the offer. His desk fairly glows with the opportunity. You try and fight back, but the curse is too strong. Your lust too encompassing. Your legs shake as you stagger to the waiting desk, and without preamble, bend over it, listing your ass into the air.
Avarick grins around his cigar, smoke pouring from his jaws. “Atta girl,” he growls, sauntering up behind you.
The heat of the golden demon beats down on you. Your nipples are hard peaks pressed against the tabletop. “J-just fuck me, damn you,” you gasp.
“Oooh, you are a greedy one! Well, far be it for me to deny you.”
You shiver, flushing with shame, but not pulling away from his clawed touch. Nor when he brushes aside the gauzy garments, revealing your dripping pussy. The humiliation only spices the lust that thumps through you, drowning your willpower, spurring your hips to rise, legs to part, reveal the glistening depths of your lusty pussy.
