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

by Amanda Clover

  Telemas motions to Vardak and the hobbled old man steps forward to refill your goblet of wine. Telemas removes the stoppers from both vials and hovers them over you drink.

  "Which fate do you choose, my lovely princess?"

  How do you answer him?

  You choose to be his queen

  You choose to be his general

  Answer with sword and spell

  Encounter Eleven - Kiss him and stroke him

  You step into the warm embrace of the inhuman Xinophus. His long arms wrap around you and pull your breasts against the hot leather of his chest. Your nipples seems to stick to his flesh. You put your arms around him and slide your hand lower, feeling that strange organ that presses against your thigh. Your fingers brush the larger of the two appendages and Xinophus emits a clicking sound from within his beard of tentacles.

  "Yessss," he hisses. "Touch it, little slave. Massage the quill of my loins."

  Fear and your abject surrender demand you obey. You grasp his hot flesh, gently, cradling it in your palm before wrapping your fist more tightly around his bumpy shaft. He flesh there seems slick, as if producing some sort of lubricating slime. You begin to stroke him, slowly, your fingers brushing against the lower, smaller organ.

  You look up from his loins and nearly scream in surprise as the alchemist's facial tentacles suddenly part, exposing the black ring of his mouth. He leans in and kisses you savagely, his tentacles wrapping around your head, encircling your ears and cradling your chin as his lips part and his tongue slides into your mouth.

  Only... it is not a tongue. It is thicker and slightly more rigid. The tip has a bony, beak-like protrusion. It sucks at your tongue, drawing it lightly into the beak. You realize in horror that you are kissing a mind sucker and this must be his feeding probe.

  Despite the horror you feel, his hands on your body are awakening your desires. He squeezes your ass and spreads your cheeks. His fingers play at your slit, opening you and teasing gently within your quim. You resume stroking his cock, adding your other hand so that you are stroking both hot spears of flesh at the same time. Mucus-like lubrication coats your fingers and drips to the floor at your feet. Xinophus moans and sucks even more forcefully at your tongue.

  It is the fingers of the mindsucker that finally claim your maidenhead. He rams two long digits into your slick hole, piercing your chastity and driving deep into your hot channel. You cry out in pain as you are robbed of your virginity, but you have no choice but to endure as his finger pump in and out of your stretched channel.

  His touch is deft, his obscene kiss enrapturing. Your thighs begin to quake and you desperately squeeze and tug the paired protrusions of his fuckmeat. Your moan of pleasure is muffled in Xinophus's kiss. You feel him tensing, his cocks swelling, and suddenly waves of extremely hot slime are gushing into your thighs and down your legs like hot wax. His cocks twitch and spurt out the seed, coating your thigh with his almost painfully hot discharge. By the time trails drip down to your ankles they are pleasantly warm.

  Xinophus releases your head from the clutches of his tentacles and slides his fingers from your cunt, leaving you teetering on the edge of release. You gasp and take an unsteady step back, looking at the horrifying sight of his splayed tentacles and his still-hard cocks.

  "Yesssssss, you are a good slave. Now it is time for you to be fucked!" He seizes your arms and spins you around, facing the nearest wall. He twists both of your arms behind your back painfully as he slams you tits-first into the cold stone. You grunt, the breath knocked out of you.

  No time to catch your breath. The molesting mind-sucker lines his dripping cockmeat up against your pussy and ass. Suddenly afraid of the double penetration, you struggle weakly to escape his grasp. He emits an irritated click. The sound is all it takes for you to submissively stop your struggling.

  Xinophus wraps an arm around your throat. His hold is not tight enough to choke you completely, but it constricts your ability to breathe. Fear surges inside you as you feel his tentacles curling over your head and around your ears. His beaked probe is licking at the back of your head as if he is sampling the taste of the delicious brain inside your skull.

  "Please..." Your voice is a pathetic whimper.

  He snaps his head up, detaching his tentacles from your face.

  "Please?" He clicks. "Yes. I will please you. Enjoy..."

  His larger, upper cock presses into the cleft of your ass. His hot tip is slick with mucus and residual cum. It finds the divot of your asshole and he begins to press insistently. Simultaneously, the mind sucker's paired prick parts your swollen petals and invades the recently claimed tunnel of your cunt. Even though it is the smaller cock, Xinophus's mollusk slickness feels huge as it violates your cunt.

  The larger cock forces open your anus and thrusts into your tight back passage, filling your hole with inch upon greasy inch of villainous fuckmeat. You are claimed, utterly, and a chill quivers over your body as he begins to thrust his inhuman cocks into your tight holes. That chill is soon replaced by the throbbing heat of his flesh. He is a furnace, driving in and out of your receptive body, churning your slick cunt and tight ass with his urgent thrusts.

  Xinophus makes a pleased clicking sound. His slippery, rubbery body presses against your back as he thrusts into you with deeper strokes. The tendrils of his face tease your neck and curl against the sides of your head. His deadly, brain-sucking mouth rubs against the top of your head, adding a fear to the mix that at some point, perhaps the peak of your pleasure, he will decide to crack your skull open like a walnut and slurp out your brains.

  "Ohhhh gods," you cry, the perilous thought stoking your depraved pleasure. "I can't take it. I'm going to... going to..."

  The mind-sucker's clawed fingers wrap around your sides and cage the soft, heaving mounds of your breasts. His fingertips pinch your nipples and tug them, sending spikes of pain through your body. You arch your back, thrusting your ass back against him.

  "AAaaaaaaa!! I'm cumming!!" You howl wordlessly after that, head back and caught in his grasping tentacles. Thrusting back again and again, filling your clenching ass and aching pussy with his twin cocks as you peak. Your leg-shaking orgasm is so powerful that you lose all control over your lust. You cry, "Cum inside me, master! Please! Breed me with your seed!"

  Xinophus pounds his cocks in and out of you, the heat inside you growing until it is almost painful. Suddenly, his feverish cocks are pulled from your cunt and ass with lewd slurps. His tentacles release your head and the mind-sucker steps back.

  "You are not worthy of my spawn. You surrender too easily. I will not breed the womb of a coward whore." His clawed hands stroke his twin cocks. "But I will decorate her with my cum."

  His cocks twitch in his grasp and he emits a deep, sub-vocal groan accompanied by a clicking of his hidden beak. A moment later, nearly-scalding lashes of his cum spray up your back and all over the roundness of your ass. His hot seed pours down your cheeks and forms a slick thong into your crack. Molten wax streams of cum drip down the backs of your thighs.

  "Gods help me," you moan, falling to your knees as he shakes the last of his seed onto your back and shoulders. You turn to face him and he smears his disgusting cocks over your lips and face. The bittersweet taste of his cum flicks against your tongue. "I'm... I am sorry, master."

  He strokes your sweaty head and looks at you with his alien, hypnotic eyes.

  "All will be well, my sweet. I am always in need of pleasure whores to serve as my assistants." He jabs you on the shoulder with a syringe of blue liquid. It disappears into your body and immediately you feel your mind recoiling into the depths of unconsciousness. His slippery arms lift you from the floor and you feel yourself being carried into his laboratory, towards one of the grotesque cylinders he uses to store his slaves.

  CONTINUE >

  Encounter Fourteen - Magic

  There are many spells to harm living things, but there are very many more that allow you to damage or manipulate object
s. Calling upon the primal forces of your aura, you splay your fingers into casting posture and speak the words of inherent magnetism. There is no visible component to the spell. You can feel it at work, like the flow of a silent, invisible river around your fingertips. The giant is made of overlapping plates and sheets of iron.

  "Leave here immediately!" booms the voice from within its head.

  "No, I don't think so!" you reply.

  With a rush of magnetic force, you curl a hundred invisible hands beneath the construct's iron plates and begin to peel them back. The metal bends and snaps free piece by piece. You fling plates behind you. Some clatter from the cave walls and some disappear into the open smelters.

  The giant staggers back as you expose its inner bones of iron and some sort of wooden compartment. It takes a concentrated effort to bend apart the skeletal structure of the iron giant and release the wooden compartment from inside its chest. The light immediately dies in its eyes as this small room goes tumbling to the ground and bursts open at your feet.

  A tiny, sweaty, plump man with a bald head and a white beard comes rolling out of the ruined box. His limbs are entangled in various broken levers and pedals and copper pipes. He blinks once with big, brown eyes and looks up at you in confusion. He wears a sweat-stained coverall and small black boots.

  "A gnome!" you declare with surprise. You thought the gnomes were all extinct. There were stories some might yet live underground, but you never imagined you might meet one in this horrible dungeon. But gnomes are supposed to be friendly. "Why were you attacking me with that machine?"

  "Please, mercy." He crawls onto his knees and begins to prostrate himself as if praying. "I am a prisoner of Madreg. I construct his cannons and he allows me to live. I know he tosses you poor girls down here, but there's nothing I can do. So few make it to me anyway. I just wanted you to leave me be!"

  "Do you know where I just came from?" you snarl with anger. "There was a mind sucker back that way trying to turn me into a slave and imprisoning my sister in a jar. Beyond that... gods, I do not even want to think about all the horrors I have faced."

  He stands up slowly and cautiously. He seems chastened by your anger.

  "I am sorry, my lady. Might we start again?" He holds out his small, grimy hand. "I am Olaf Pumpernickel, at your service."

  "Kirsten Sungbaard," you say, shaking his hand. "I don't suppose you have anything to eat?"

  "A bit, yes!" He claps his hands. "Come with me. Whatever I have is yours."

  You wish he had a shirt, but you doubt his wardrobe has anything in your size. You follow the gnome, stooping as you enter a small house he has built inside this much larger cave. The furniture makes your bottom seem enormous as you crouch and sit upon one of the chairs. Olaf scurries about his little house, gathering bits and pieces of food, until he offers you up brined pork, a cooked egg of some sort of cave reptile, a bit of bread and a jam he made himself from "deep berries." It's actually quite good, though there is not much of it. You wash it down with a great quantity of cool, clean water.

  "I suppose you could stay with me," says Olaf, raising an eyebrow hopefully.

  You give him a frown and a flat, "No."

  "No, of course not, you must carry on." He stands up and wipes his mouth with a napkin. "Well, when you're ready I'll show you how they send the cannons down to me. There's sure to be a way out through there."

  Olaf soon takes you to a large wooden door. You help him swing it open and see a cart rail rising slowly into the darkness beyond. You thank him, bid him farewell, and set off with a fresh lantern into this dark passage. After quite a long distance you come upon a side tunnel. You decide to continue to follow the track.

  Perhaps another thousand paces along the track you reach a bridge over a howling black chasm. The problem is that it is a suspension bridge with one half raise away from the track. You see now way across and have no choice but to backtrack and follow the side tunnel.

  You follow this lesser branch and begin to feel very cool, fresh air entering the tunnel. Ahead you see moonlight and your heart soars as you approach some exit from the caves into the exterior.

  CONTINUE >

  Encounter twelve - Kneel before Telemas

  There is no defeating that which cannot be killed. You realize you were a fool to try to strike the necromancer down with your sword. The hilt slips from your fingers and your blade rings out loudly as it lands beside you.

  "Yes, good," says Telemas. The seam on his neck is almost completely gone. His glistening, black cock-thing is swaying from side to side as if beckoning you closer.

  You fall to your knees before the necromancer, trickles of tears spill down your cheeks and drip from your chin to your breasts. All hope is gone. There is only submission. You say your prayers to your gods and your apologies to your ancestors as the necromancer steps closer.

  The strange, unwholesome musk of his cock fills your nostrils. It is a smell of ancient and secret doom. Of dark things from hidden places. He brushes the damp tip against your trembling lips. You let out a gasp and open your mouth for him.

  "There you are," he says. "Suck it, my little whore princess."

  You try not to look. It makes its own sounds, chattering softly as you open your mouth wider and engulf the slippery tip. Tendrils wriggle in your mouth, caressing your tongue and lips and tickling the roof of your mouth. You suppress a gag and take him deeper, sucking as bitter liquid comes away from his cock. You swallow it, tasting the foulness and fighting the urge to vomit. Your lips pop on him and slide from the tip and lower, over flexing segments, until the wriggling head is at the back of your throat.

  "So warm," he says. "So ready to receive me."

  "Mmmmmmm!"

  Your eyes go wide as the cock suddenly lurches deeper, past your throat and down your gullet. It slithers into your neck, bulging your throat as it slides well past your swallowing muscles. You try to pull away, but it has you now. Tendrils hold you fast and this vile appendage dives into your stomach. You want to scream and pull away, you try to fight it, but something else is happening.

  It begins as a throbbing pleasure. The sensation radiates out from your belly and to your heaving, drool-covered breasts. It reaches to your aching cunt and your trembling thighs now slick with your juices. The ecstasy grows and you can feel the hideous snake moving inside you.

  You fall back from Telemas, dropping onto your back. Yet your mouth and throat are still stuffed with his inhuman cock, a taut rope of black flesh connecting your mouth to the necromancer's groin. It throbs between your lips and you hear the necromancer's laugh, distant now, as his fluid spews into your belly. Your body is overcome. Your lips and nipples become blue. The color fades from your flesh until you are as pale as marble.

  Deep in your breast, your heartbeat slows. There is a twinge of pain as it stops and then a rush of the cold that wraps you like a blanket. The cock slithers out from inside you, but it has left a part of itself. Your lips slowly close. Your eyes remain open and seeing and you look up at Telemas.

  "Welcome to unlife, my queen," he says, offering you a hand.

  Your fear and hatred of the necromancer have been replaced by the cold certainty of devotion. You smile at him as you take his hand and rise, reborn, as the necromancer's queen.

  CONTINUE >

  Encounter Ten - Attack

  You are not about to stand here and be devoured like some bovine sacrifice. You draw your blade with a cry of anger and charge at the attacking manticore. Once action has replaced consideration, your courage is unflagging. You leap at the beast, slashing your blade and scoring a hit against its snout. Blood flashes in the air and wets your breasts.

  The manticore swings a claw at you, but you are too quick, ducking and rolling aside and bringing your blade up in time to block a second slash. You repay the attack with a direct stab that catches the mighty beast between its toes. It yowls in pain.

  "Not some easy prey!" you shout. "I'll make a coat out of y--"

>   The barbed tail hits you just above your shoulder blade. The pain is like a hot knife drive into your flesh, although the barb itself is no bigger than a fisherman's hook. At once, cold pain lances deeper and deeper into your body. You bring up your arm to stanch the flow of blood and find you can barely raise your hand above your chest.

  You stagger backwards.

  "Bastard," you gasp.

  The manticore licks its chops. Your sword slips from your fingers and clangs like a bell against the stone floor of the cave. You take another staggering step backwards, sway on your feet, and pitch forward. It is a defenseless fall and your face is only save from a serious blow by your breasts hitting first and cushioning your fall by that little bit. The blow still stuns you and leave you face down and with your ass sticking up in the air thonged by the loincloth.

  You can barely even tremble as the paralytic venom takes hold. You struggle to breathe and feel the subtle shake of the floor as the manticore approaches. His shadow falls over you and you can smell the musk of his body.

  "Go ahead," you bite out through clenched teeth. "Finish me off."

  You are expecting him to rake you with his claws or snap those massive jaws shut over your head and crack your skull like a bitternut. A worthy death, at least. No shame in being felled by a monster as formidable as a manticore.

  Instead of a sharp pain, you are startled by a cold wetness against the back of your thigh. You feel something sucking and then blowing at your loincloth and you realize the manticore is sniffing you. The beast's nose presses more tightly against your gusset and sucks in the warm air of your quim.

  "No," you try to scream, but only an almost inaudible whimper comes out.