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

by Amanda Clover

  "MmMmmmmm!" you cry around the door's cock.

  The fiery flower of your pleasure blossoms in your loins. A hot burst travels up your clutching channel and spikes of radiating ecstasy pulse out from your clit. Your lips tighten around the door's hugely swollen shaft and you feel it pulse and jerk in your mouth. He does not warn you and there is no chance. You are too lost in your pleasure to pull back as cum races up the door's shaft and erupts into your mouth with such force that it spurts out of your nostrils and gushes into your throat. You swallow and sputter, eyes going wide as you realize you are suddenly drowning in hot spunk.

  "AAAAAaaaahh suck it!" cries the door.

  You give him both hands, stroking him and trying to keep him in your mouth, but it's no use. His cock is spurting too hard and it forces itself out of your lips in a white waterfall of hot seed that pours down your chin and coats your breasts. You gasp for air as the next throb covers your face in a hot bath of semen. You close your eyes and take it, your hips jerking with aftershocks of your pleasure as you finish wanking the hot load out of the door's cock.

  "You didn't warn me," you scold as you milk out the last of his spunk.

  "Noooo, I didn't," chuckles the door. "I got a bit caught up and...and you were playing with yourself. I couldn't think straight and your mouth--"

  "I get it," you snap. "Gods you've made a mess of me."

  You stand up, holding your arms out as you look down at your cum-slathered body. There is no mopping all this up. You're going to be filthy.

  "Are you going to open now?"

  "Well, ah, yes! You've done it!"

  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 to what appears to be a way out.

  "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 - Run to the Cabin

  Too many wolves chasing you! If you stop now they will tear you to pieces!

  You run as fast as you can towards the cabin in the middle of the clearing. Lights behind the milky glass of a window. Smoke from its chimney. Someone has to be inside. Maybe they will help you.

  Your legs burn with exertion. Behind you, the wolves come crashing out of the woods and into the clearing. Their snarls are so close on your heels. Your heart feels as if it is going to burst with effort and terror.

  Almost there... the door is only twenty paces now. You can clear them in seconds.

  The wolf appears atop the roof of the cabin, only it is not a wolf at all, it has human-like clawed hands and its gray-furred face is where a man's head might be on his body. A werewolf! It races to the edge of the roof and leaps at you as you approach the door.

  You throw your body to the ground. It is all you can do to avoid the sudden attack. The werewolf swipes with its claws as it passes over your falling body, so near that you feel the wind of its swing against your back. You land on your knees and push yourself up without looking back. You launch yourself at the door. Fumble with the latch for a moment and then push your way through.

  Gasping, you turn and slam the door. You lock and bar the door and stare at it, expecting the werewolf to slam into the wood. He was huge. Taller than a man. Surely he could batter down even the barred door. But no, there is no further attack.

  You turn to look at the cabin you are now trapped inside.

  CONTINUE >

  Encounter Fourteen - You Yield

  "Enough!" you cry. "Please, I cannot bear any more of this torture!"

  The iron giant frees you from your pain and removes the shackles securing you to the table. It scoops you up into its mighty arms and carries you into another room. It pours steaming buckets of warm water over your head. You gasp at the first, but the subsequent buckets ease some of your torment.

  "Thank you," says the giant, offering you a hand up. "Great misery would befall us both if you remained here indefinitely."

  "I just wanted to escape this awful place," you mutter.

  "I sympathize." It seems a strange thing to boom out from the iron giant with the red eyes. "Come, I have a room where you may remain in comfort and some clothing you may wear."

  The iron giant leads you through the forge once more and this time through a barred door and into a small natural room formed in the stone of the cave. There is a small cot and a chamber pot. Candles and a few books in a language you do not recognize. The giant ushers you inside and closes and locks the door.

  "So I'm your prisoner until the orcs arrive to take me away?" you ask, though there is little defiance left in your voice.

  "I am afraid so," says the giant. "Rest. I will bring you something to eat."

  You remain in the cell for days, eating porridge and the occasional root vegetable provided by the iron giant and trying to decipher the books he has provided. You learn that the giant is controlled by a gnome named Olaf, though he does not show his face and is only a sad voice you hear through the door. You hate him and quietly curse his name even as you resign yourself to your fate.

  Your fantasies of escaping this dungeon and saving your sisters are long forgotten. You know the orcs will show you no mercy. You have nightmares of them touching you all over. As you toss and turn, you see them hauling you before Madreg for some ultimate punishment.

  On the fifth day of captivity, the orcs arrive.

  CONTINUE >

  Encounter Fifteen - Refuse Kjall's Offer

  "Sure, I'll suck your filthy wolf pricks and then bend over and let you rut my ass like some sort of kennel slut." You draw your sword with a loud scrape of the blade against the scabbard. "Not."

  You slash your blade across Kjall's beefy chest. He grunts, grabbing at the crimson wound and reeling back. His comrades are only too happy to charge in to have their revenge. You fend off the first snarling attacker with desperate swings, wounding the first hybrid that attacks and driving him back. The remaining werewolves come at you simultaneously.

  You summon a lash of fire and strike out at one with the weak attack spell. To your surprise, this attack sets the werewolf ablaze and it runs away screaming and trailing smoke. Your sword attack succeeds to hold the fourth hybrid at a distance and gives you time to focus your mind for another magic attack.

  Kjall and the two remaining hybrids, apparently unharmed by your sword, attack at once. The air stirs behind you as you cast the spell, focusing your power and unleashing a hailstorm of burning, thumb-sized projectiles. They pelt the hybrids. Some seem to do little damage, but the two hybrids retreat. Only Kjall presses forward.

  "Silly bitch," he snarls. "Those little fire tricks won't work so easily on my ape flesh."

  He is unarmed, but hugely powerful, blocking a stroke of your sword by taking the slashing attack on his forearm. The wound is deep and yet seems to hardly bother him. He catches your wrist on the backstroke and delivers a head butt that drives you to your knees. Blood trickles down your face. You look up at him, trying to blink away the d
izzy sensations. Kjall wrenches the sword from your grasp and tosses it out of reach.

  "Fun is over, bitch. Now you belong to the pack."

  He bends your arms behind your back and drives you down to your knees with a kick. The hybrids return, only now they have returned to human form. All three men are well-built Noormen. One is noticeably shorter than the others, another has ugly pink burns on his face and chest and a particularly angry expression.

  "Sven got the worst of it," says the short one. "Let him have her first."

  "Cowards," you snarl. "You can't even fight a woman one-on-one."

  "We're a pack," says Kjall. "We do everything together. That includes fucking your pretty little ass senseless. Sven, you first. Make her feel it."

  The short one holds your head up as Sven, with his burn-puckered flesh, gets behind you and rubs his fingers against the tender folds of your quim. You grit your teeth as those rough fingers strum over your sex and rub circles on your clit.

  "Wet already," he growls. "You'll be begging for it before I'm done with you."

  "Go to hell," you spit.

  Sven licks his fingers and rubs them over your slit, spreading his saliva and pressing it lightly into your virgin channel. He wanks his cock and smacks the head against your bottom. Then it is at your entrance and all you can do is shut your eyes and grit your teeth as the werewolf in human form violates your virgin sex. His cock splits your maidenhead and drives into your virgin passage. He bottoms out inside you, stuffing you completely and mashing his bollocks against your clit.

  "Oohhhhh, you're a tight one," laughs Sven. "A true virgin. But I'll break you in."

  His rough hands trace the shapely curves of your bottoms around to your hips. He grab your around your slender waist and pulls you back onto his cock. You gasp with the discomfort of his cock ramming into your sore quim and he laughs. His grip tightens and he begins to hammer his cock into you roughly. For a seeming eternity, but perhaps not very long at all, Sven pounds his cock into your pussy. His body collides loudly with the soft cushion of your ass. He spits on your clenched asshole and massages your puckered pink with his thumb. The others watch and stroke their cocks. They're waiting their turn.

  "Fuck yeah," groans Sven. "Look at that, she's fucking back onto it. Go on, bitch. You look like you were made to fuck. Show me how you move."

  And you do. Gods help you, your hips roll and you fuck back onto his cock. Your inner muscles squeeze tightly around his throbbing member as your orgasm builds. He growls and throws his head back. You feel him tense and you know what is about to happen.

  "Forgive me, mother," you whisper.

  Sven's cock throbs and pumps his hot seed into your virgin channel. Waves of his cum baste your walls and flood your womb. The magic of the dungeon fuses sperm to egg and in a flash of joyous release, you cum and you fall in love with Sven, Kjall and all the others in the werewolf pack.

  "Yes! I'm cumming!" you cry. "Fuck me! Fill me! Oh, give me your cock..."

  You twist your head and the Noorman holding your hair feeds his cock between your lips. You are in total bliss, cumming and being filled with cum. Sucking and licking and pleasing one of your beloved packmates. Sven's cock slips out of your flooded channel. You whine around the cock in your mouth and wiggle your hips from side to side.

  You do not have to go without for long. Kjall stretches out on the ground and pulls your cum-stuffed pussy onto his cock. The other werewolf mounts your ass, filling you with a second hard cock. A third, counting the delicious morsel of fuckmeat in your mouth.

  You work tirelessly to suck and fuck and make your packmates cum. You are their bitch, after all. You are here to satisfy them.

  CONTINUE >

  Encounter Thirteen - Parley

  You cannot bring yourself to attack or cast a spell at this beautiful woman, even if she is a demon. You cannot simply surrender to her. That means trying to strike some sort of bargain with her, which might be the most terrifying prospect of all.

  "I have no quarrel with you, Ashara," you say, holding up your hands. "Let me pass and we can part ways as friends."

  "Of course!" Ashara turns to the side and gestures towards a sinister painting of a tower rising on an apocalyptic landscape. You're not really sure why she is pointing to the painting. She sees your doubt and her smile spreads. "I want you to continue on your way, princess, but it would be much nicer if you stayed a while and heard me out. I have an offer for you."

  You don't really know how to leap into a painting and escape. Hearing out the succubus with her intoxicating voice seems your only actual choice.

  "What is your offer?" you say, steeling yourself to keep your wits.

  She prowls a bit closer, her scent making you feel almost dizzy. You try not to focus on the heat building between your thighs and the wetness slowly beading at your folds.

  "Madreg is a powerful wizard, to be sure," purrs Ashara. "Not powerful enough to conquer all the kingdoms and command such a diversity of horrors in his onslaught against you humans. No, Madreg turned to one of the princes of the abyss. Castigoroth. My master."

  "You serve one of the princes of hell?"

  "Serve is not the proper word." Ashara does not disguise her bitterness. "I was free, or as free as a demoness can be, but he took all that from me and enslaved me as one of his concubines. When Madreg made his pact with Castigoroth, I was a gift to the mad wizard. A lover and an agent of my master."

  "What is this pact?"

  "Why, Madreg is opening the way for Castigoroth. He is conquering the known lands and thinks he can summon my master to this realm and then simply share power with him."

  "He is going to bring one of the demon princes to the earth?" You have read prophesies and ancient stories claiming it had been done before. You never truly believed them.

  "Yes, and he needs a virgin princess to do it."

  "Me?"

  "Your womb."

  "Then it is simple," you say. "Take my virginity."

  Ashara smiles sweetly and caresses your face. You shudder at her touch.

  "Were it so simple, I gladly would, princess." She whirls and walks away from you, her hips swinging and the purple snake of her tail twitching and drawing your gaze to her shapely bottom. "There are others. I sense them, already in his clutches. Some trapped in this maze. The maze is meant to test them. To test their purity. So that only the most pure reaches the altar of sacrifice."

  "How can I help you?" You ask the question with unintended earnestness, taking a step towards Ashara and feeling a fresh pang of lust. The succubus turns back to you, folding her arms beneath her breasts and cocking her hips to one side in a pose that makes you want to beg for her to ravish you.

  "I can link myself to a ring which will allow you to call upon me for assistance. No matter where you are, no matter what you face, I will come to you and aid you."

  She strides closer.

  "Why?" you ask.

  Her hand caresses your face and your thighs begin to quake. It requires every measure of your will not to lunge forward and kiss those luscious, glistening lips.

  "Because you must reach that altar, my sweet," she says, her smoky voice hushed. "They must believe their ritual will work, until I appear and we destroy them together. Madreg and Castigoroth. Then we will both be free."

  "And my sisters?" you ask, trying to fight the trembling.

  "Your sisters and all the other poor girls trapped in his dungeon. His army will turn on itself and the human slaves will rise up and escape. It will be the end, in Madreg's moment of triumph."

  "I suppose it is an offer I cannot refuse," you say.

  "No, you must be willing." She flicks her gaze to the painting again. "You can go now, without my help, and I will hope you find a way to defeat Madreg. Or you can stay a while longer, accept my help, and enjoy some of my hospitality..."

  Her hand drops from your cheek and falls, seemingly incidentally, so that her fingertips brush over your erect nipple and touch your hip
. You gasp at the contact.

  "Will you go now or will you stay awhile and have my help?"

  Ashara chews her lower lip and watches you for a response. Her lashes flutter. Her breasts swing gently, lavender nipples plump and erect, as she leans towards you ever so slightly. Your eyes can hardly take in the fullness of her voluptuous beauty. It seems no choice at all.

  What do you do?

  Agree to her bargain

  Refuse her bargain

  Encounter Thirteen - Attack

  You do not even take a breath to betray your action. You draw your blade and lunge forward with your sword in hand, determined to save yourself from this irresistible demoness.

  The point of your sword pierces the softness of Ashara's left breast. Your blade drives deep and you impale her on your sword. She looks at you for a moment in complete surprise. Dark blood, almost black, spills from her lips and down her chin. It pours in rivulets from her wounded breast. Her face contorts in agony and she collapses towards you. It is all you can do to reach out and catch her in both arms. You hold her up on her feet.

  "I'm sorry!" you cry, feeling instantly guilty for what you have done. "Please... please... Ashara, forgive me."

  "F-forgive... you?" She coughs and her head drops forward. Blood patters from her face and flows in scarlet ribbons down her pale torso. The lavender tinged pile of her white hair unspool s and falls down over her face like the drop of a curtain. For a moment, you hold her limp in your arms, feeling her hot blood spill onto your chest.

  Ashara begins to laugh. A sinister chuckle builds to a mocking cackle. She throws her head back and roars with laughter.

  "You thought... a sword would kill me?" She pulls the blade from her breast and hurls it away with such force that the blade sticks in the wall. The wound on her flesh is gone in moments.