Princess to Pleasure Slave Adventure: The Dungeon of the Monster Breeder

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Princess to Pleasure Slave Adventure: The Dungeon of the Monster Breeder Page 32

by Amanda Clover


  You lean as far forward as you can without tipping over. Your breasts dangle beneath you and you stroke him with a hand between your thighs, holding the door's cock in place as you slowly begin to back onto it. Inch by inch it fills your virgin ass, stretching your pucker around it as you impale your ass on his big dick. The door's bulging eyes stare at your pink wrinkle, stretched into a taut ring around his fat shaft.

  "It has been years since I have felt anything like this," moans the door. "Such a sight. It is sent by the gods."

  "Sent by me," you grunt. "That's my ass."

  "No...oohhh...arguing that one."

  Your cheeks press against the door and you feel a momentary flash of strange pride as you realize your have taken every inch of the huge cock up your ass. You bounce your cheeks against him and ride his cock back up until only the tip is still buried in your pucker. It takes effort, but you work into a rhythm, turning your hips ever so slightly as you fuck your ass onto the door's huge cock.

  There is pain, at first, a sort of tightness that feels as if you might burst. You take it slow and careful and soon you forget the fear and embrace the pleasure of it. Your hips shake, your dangling tits swing and you fuck yourself onto the door's cock.

  "Ohhh, so good!" he cries. "I can't last long."

  "Bastard," you groan. "Hold on!"

  You furiously strum your clit as you fuck back against the door. The sound of your ass colliding with the hard surface of the door fills the hallways. Your breathing becomes labored. Your legs shake from the effort and your body shakes from the mounting pleasure.

  "Aaaaaahhhhhhh!" the door wails with you on the age of ecstasy.

  You squeeze your muscles against his throbbing cock. It's too late to stop him and your eyes go wide as you feel the hot pressure of his seed bursting into your ass. It's a forceful rush of fluid that heats your insides and pushes deep and uncomfortably into your virgin ass. You remember how violently and how much he shot just moments ago and now the same thing is happening inside your body. A lake of cum pumping into your tender derriere.

  You frig yourself to bliss even as the door's orgasm ends. Your ass squeezes him and you fuck back into his cock, fireworks behind your eyes even as he begins to go soft. You let the radiating lines of pleasure work through your body and then slowly step forward on shaking legs. His cock slides out of your ass with a loud slurp. The massive amount of cum filling your ass begins to drain out in an obscene white waterfall splattering onto the floor.

  You stand upright, struggling to catch your breath as your body continues to shamefully push out the hot spunk. You are glad you cannot see yourself and your gaping hole emptying out the foul quantity of strange cum.

  "That had better be enough," you snap, jabbing a finger at the door's face.

  "Y-yes! Of course. I could not ask for more. I will open now."

  There is a loud clank of a shifting lock and the door swings towards you. Immediately, heat and the sound of rain confronts you. The back of the door is covered in a layer of moss and rust and it has opened the way to what appears to be a way out. You stagger to the door, your sore pucker making it seem like you are a limping a bit.

  "Is this the exit?" you ask, your heart soaring.

  "The courtyard," says the door. "The sorcerer keeps beasts out there, so be careful."

  You step through the door and smile up at the night sky. The monsoon rain is warm and washes away the filth of the dungeon. The tropical air is hot and filled with the smell of the jungle that extends into the night. You have never been in a jungle before, but you have read about them. Huge trees and strange animals.

  You set off into the wilderness, glad to forget that you are still trapped within Madreg's prison. You do not know what magic or construction opens to the sky, but you are not going to give up on escaping this nightmare.

  The heavy rain has turned the jungle muddy. You are on a hill looking down into a valley when a wrong step causes you to lose your footing. You fall onto the muddy ground and go sliding over the edge of the hill. Your heart races as you slide through the jungle growth, faster and faster, slipping towards the valley below with no idea of what awaits.

  CONTINUE >

  Encounter Fifteen - The Outcast

  Your shapely breasts heave up and down as you fight to catch your breath. You press your back against the rough wood of the cabin door and take in your surroundings.

  The cabin is not very large, perhaps no bigger than the size of your bedroom growing up in the castle. The cabin's interior is furnished in the fashion of the numerous hunting cabins and ranger outposts you have seen throughout your life. There are fishing and hunting implements, dusty taxidermy, a small larder of preserved food, and a cot with a simple roll-out mattress of wool padding. There is a single door out of this main room and it is painted an ominous black.

  Your gaze lingers on that door before taking in the light of the room. There is a cast iron stove with fire glowing behind its grate and a chair facing the stove. A lantern shines its light on the chair's sole occupant. He is tall and well-built and rather handsome in the chiseled fashion of a Noorman. His blond hair is pulled back from his face in a masculine braid. His blue eyes are peering through a mended pair of spectacles at a book he holds in his enormous hands. He wears a pair of crude peasant trousers and a simple tunic of light cloth.

  "Welcome," he says, closing the book and placing it on the small table beside his chair. "I'm glad you made it."

  "Wh-why didn't you help me?" You demand, covering your breasts and feeling ashamed of your nudity. "Couldn't you hear those wolves? They're werewolves."

  "I heard them," he says, with a hint of sadness in his voice. "I was once like them, savage and giving into my bestial desires. My bargain with them was that if they left me alone in my cabin, I would not interfere with what they did in the woods."

  "I was on your doorstep," you cry.

  "And now you've made it into my cabin. And they will leave you alone." He gestures to his chair. "Come, sit by my fire. I will fetch you my blanket and make you something warm to drink. Tea? Chicory speck?"

  "Anything," you say, sitting down in his chair and feeling grateful for the fire and for the warmth of his blanket. He returns with a steaming cup of black liquid. It smells earthy and has a very bitter taste.

  "It's better with cream, but not much of that to be had here." He pulls up a stool and sits beside you. "My name is Bjorn Mooncaller. What is your name?"

  "Kirsten. Sungbaard." You take another sip of the drink. At least it warms your belly. "So are you a werewolf?"

  "That doesn't frighten you?" he asks, raising a bushy blond eyebrow.

  "I would prefer that you were not a werewolf," you say and give him a shrug. "But I've seen things far worse and you seem better mannered than your friends outside. If you were going to attack me, I presume you would have already."

  "Perhaps not a wise presumption. And those are not my friends." He looks at the black door. "I cannot let you pass through here. That is also part of my bargain with the pack."

  "Mmmmm," you murmur, taking in what he is saying.

  You finish the cup in your hands and rise slowly from the chair. You notice a hunger in Bjorn's blue eyes. He is taking in your body more carefully. You walk the few paces to his stove and pour more of the steaming black liquid into your cup.

  You feel something against your backside and realize that the large man has his face pressed against the rear of your loincloth. You feel the suck of air as he inhales the scent of your loins and ass. You flush as he sniffs loudly, even moans almost inaudibly at your scent.

  "Bjorn!" you cry, but he does not stop right away.

  This is very embarrassing for you and not at all civilized for him. Perhaps you should say something.

  What do you do?

  Tell him to stop!

  Let him keep sniffing...

  Bad Ending - Whore for the Breeding Pits

  You step outside the dusty tent to empty the wash water.
There is a rain cistern to refill it and as you are walking back to your tiny tent a great whoosh goes overhead. You look up just in time to see a volley of siege rocks passing above the pit. The projectiles are as big as oxen and disappear out of view in an instant. A moment later there follows a great crashing sound and then a ragged cheer from the army of Madreg.

  Whatever castle they have been besieging for the past few days seems about to fall. You can feel the excitement in the air and hear it in the voices of the orcs that descend into the pit, still bloodied and dusty from battle, to rut with you and the other girls in the breeding pits. Your thoughts turn, as they always do, to your beloved master Reemek. You pray to your new, dark gods that Reemek survives the final stages of the siege.

  You return to the shaded heat of your tent to await your next visitor. You think back to your time in the maze all those months ago - or maybe even years now - and you run your hands over your changed body. Your breasts have grown huge, your areolas wider and darker and nipples fat and constantly dribbling with milk. You wear an open-cupped sling so your tits do not become pendulous. Your belly is plump with your latest litter of orc pups. Your buttocks and thighs are plump. You keep your quim shorn to avoid catching any lice from the foul orcs.

  It is not long before another visitor arrives. The tent flap is thrown open and a long-haired fen orc growls and steps into your tent. He looks at you as he pulls off his bandolier and drops his sword at his feet. You hasten to him and help him off with his boots.

  "A bath?" you suggest, wrinkling your nose at his smell.

  "Suck cock," he grunts, dropping onto the ratty cushions you keep as a bed. He wears an armored codpiece that opens with a click.

  You untie his filthy loincloth and expose the fat, flaccid hose of his cockmeat. The stench if foul, but you do not betray your disgust. You smile as you lift him with your hand and begin to lick his sweat-salted cap. You skin his cock back and begin to suck. He groans loudly and pushes your head down until his hardening cock is battering your throat with every stroke.

  "That good. Suck!"

  You focus your mind on the distant sounds of battle as you perform this most common ritual on the orc. Your throat relaxes and you take him deeper. He groans once more and begins to rock his hips, fucking his cock into your throat. It doesn't matter.

  While your mouth is bobbing on this fat cock and your hand is stroking his heavy orc bollocks, your imagination sees the clash of orcs and humans. The strange creatures howling behind the orcs and sometimes charging forward to batter against the walls of the castle. You imagine the panic of the men and women inside those crumbling walls. You picture the rape and slaughter that will soon fall upon them.

  "AAaaaaargggh!" roars the orc, pushing your head down roughly until your nose is buried in the rancid nest of his pubic hair.

  You struggle to breathe and yet don't care that he is forcing his cock deep into your well-trained throat. As he begins to throb inside your mouth you feel the familiar warmth slipping down into your belly and you massage him with your swallowing, grateful you will barely taste his cum.

  Once his belly-filling broth has been emptied down your throat, the orc grunts and pulls your head off his cock. You gasp for air, drool falling down your chin, hands working carefully over his cock to coax out the last of his seed and clean it with your tongue. He watches you for several seconds and then pushes you away. Most of your visitors are done after you suck them. This particular brute remains seated.

  "Now bath," he says.

  "Yes, of course, master," you say, gathering the water and soft cloth. You even have a hunk of soap given to you as a gift from a goblin visitor. The goblins are always nicer, though they visit infrequently and you rarely see the same one twice. You go out of your way to please them when they do visit.

  You begin with the orc's cock, but soon you wash the dirt from his body, leaving grimy water soaking into the earth at his feet and a wash bucket turned a dark brown with sweat and blood an dust. He stands naked and relatively clean before you. His body is muscular, with a slight paunch at his belly. His glistening cock is beginning to stir again from your gentle washing and you know he will soon demand more of you.

  "Any food?" asks the orc.

  "No, master, I'm sorry."

  "Mmmm," he grunts and tosses a crust of bread and dried meat from his pack. You quickly spirit it away. He motions for you to climb onto the cushions and says, simply, "Rut now."

  As you drop onto your hands and knees, as you feel him press his fat cock to the slick groove of your pussy, you know that this is your life and will be for the foreseeable future. You were once a princess, once hoped to escape, but now you are a whore to Madreg's army, doomed to spend your life in the pleasure pits.

  "Fuck me," you moan to encourage the orc.

  His cock slides inside you and you know that your adventure is most definitely at an end.

  < START OVER | INDEX

  Encounter Thirteen - Pleasure Her Tail

  Ashara's wriggling tail nuzzles its phallic tip against the softness of the palm of your hand. Almost instinctively, you curl your fingers around it and give its half-sized cock a squeeze. The succubus lets out a low moan of pleasure and lifts her ass up a little more. It was behaving so independently of the demoness that you forgot it was a part of her body.

  The tail curls around your arm and smears its leaking, oily juices onto your finger. With one hand, you massage the smooth length of the tail. Your other hand grip and squeezes the cock-like end. The demoness moans again.

  "It has taken a liking to you," she purrs, "but if you rub it like that it is going to want more."

  You give the tip of the tail another squeeze. It produces a droplet of clear liquid that you smear onto your fingers. The tail jerks out of your grasp and the long serpent of purple flesh dives between your breasts. You gasp as the hot tail binds your soft mound tight, circling a figure eight around them before its dripping tip rises from between them.

  "Not so tight," you cry as the tail constricts your breasts and they begin to darken with trapped blood.

  "I can't make it stop," laughs Ashara. "If you want it to release you then you're going to have to satisfy it."

  You guide the searching tip of Ashara's cock tail to your mouth and begin to run your tongue around its salty-sweet bulge. The tail reacts by thrusting against your tongue and pushing into your mouth. Its coils tighten painfully around your breasts. You suck the half-sized cock buried in your mouth.

  "Ohhhhh," cries Ashara. "It likes that very much."

  Performing fellatio on a purple cock at the end of a demons tail is not how you imagined yourself behaving a few days ago. All such memories of your former self are long dispelled by the depravity of this dungeon. The sweet tang of the tail's precum enhances your desire and encourages you to flick it with your tongue and suck more loudly and wantonly. It is not long at all before the tail begins to thrust in and out of your mouth and not much longer still after that it begins to tremble.

  "Ahhh! It's cumming!" Ashara's words are immediately proven by the throb of the tail, a jerk you feel up its entire length, and it begins to pump hot, sweet, syrupy cum into your mouth. It is a unique flavor and one you eagerly gulp and slurp from the spewing tip.

  You are in a heat of desire by the time the tail unwinds itself from your throbbing breasts, leaving them a shade of crimson that slowly begins to fade. You recline among the cushions and begin touching your clit, admiring the succubus. She rolls onto her back and sees you pleasuring yourself.

  "Oh, a wonderful idea," she purrs and spreads her shapely thighs. Her fingers begin to stroke her clit. She nods to you and says, "Tilt your hips a little more, my sweet, and my tail will assist you."

  You do as she says, exposing your tight-clenched asshole. The cum and saliva smeared tail drills immediately into your tender pucker. You gasp as that half-sized cock pushes past your squeeze of resistance and fills your ass with prehensile prickmeat.

  Admiring A
shara, being ass-plundered by her purple tail, you frig your clit to a toe-curling crescendo. The succubus shudders and arches once more as you are cumming, her fingers a blur on her fleshy clit, and her tail beginning to throb once more and fill your tender ass with that strange seed.

  You relax from your orgasm, fighting to catch your breath. The tail leaves your flood hole with a soft "pop" and you feel a silky trickle of tail spunk from your tender hole. Ashara crawls over and pulls you against her breasts. She kisses you and cradles you until you have both recovered from your mutual pleasure.

  "I can think of all sorts of uses for your tail," you confess.

  "I bet you have, my not-so-innocent virgin princess." She gives you a teasing kiss. "But now we must focus on the matter of revenge. Come along and I will show you the way out and fit you with the ring you will need to execute my plan."

  She climbs out from the canopy of the bed, leaving you with no choice but to follow her hypnotically luscious ass and twitching tail.

  CONTINUE >

  Encounter Five - Use your sword to free yourself

  If sweet words won't tame this beast, then maybe your sword can. As the slime pulls your legs deeper into the cool weight of its body, you desperately fumble at your belt for your sword. You manage to drag it out from its sheath. The slime is all around your lower legs. Tendrils of cool, sticky goo are reaching up your thighs and slipping into your loincloth to caress your virgin quim.

  "Let me go!" you cry and begin to stab and hack at the jelly.

  Your sword easily penetrates the slime, but it is seems to have little more effect than stirring a bowl of pudding. That purple nucleus of the slime might be vulnerable, but you have no hope of reaching it as the slime wraps around your blade and yanks it from your grasp.

 

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