An Interactive Adventure Level 4
Featuring Ghost Pirates, Tentacle Beasts, and Fishmen
By Amanda Clover
@amandasmut
Cover artwork by Deilan12
Interior artwork by Walnusstinte
This book and all its contents are copyright 2019 by Amanda Clover. All rights are reserved and no portions may be reproduced unless for the use of brief quotations for review purposes.
All characters appearing in this story are over the age of 18. This is a work of parody and any resemblance to real people or situations is coincidental.
Hold on! This book is not linear!
Fertile in my Ex-Boyfriend’s Dungeon is an interactive adventure book and is not meant to be read straight through. You are in control of the choices Beatrix will make as she tries to escape from the dungeon. At the end of each section, you will be prompted to make a decision for her. Following the link to continue her story!
This book contains several different paths that will take Beatrix to a premature end. If she doesn’t make it to the end of the level, you will be able to start over at the beginning or jump back to an earlier encounter.
Have fun!
Stunned and Bewildered
I sit up, dust covering my face and my ears ringing so loudly that I cannot hear anything or than that high-pitched whine. I sputter and spit out more grit. Where am I? Who am I?
That’s right, I am Beatrix Ardora, woman of adventure, trapped in a dungeon by my treacherous wizard boyfriend Zimon Fendriss. He wants me to get knocked up by monsters. And to answer your question, yes, he is a huge creep.
I remember there was a door blocking my path, heavy and locked, and a beautiful tawny-skinned girl dressed in billowing trousers that still clung to her hips and a blouse that bared her toned midriff like a dancer or a pirate. Or maybe a pirate dancer. Is that something that exists? Not sure. Her name is Delfina Desiree, which seems like the sort of name a pirate dancer would have.
The ringing in my ears subsides as the smoke clears in the hallway. Delfina blew up the door and part of the wall with her blasting powder. Where did she go? Did she blow herself up?
Hands reach under my arms and lift me to my feet. The beautiful pirate girl with the honey gold eyes brushes the worst of the dust off my torn blouse and trousers. The ringing in my ears finally fades and I can hear what she is saying.
“Your head is still attached to your shoulders! I don’t see any blood!” She takes my hand. “Come with me and we will be out of this stockade faster than a saberfish can slice a sinker line. I will take back my ship back and hang Zimon from the mizzenmast!”
I nod, still a bit stunned and bewildered, and let her pull me along behind her, through the smoldering debris and down the smoky hallway. It occurs to me that by escaping, I am leaving behind Nellie, who sacrificed her freedom to the slime so that I could escape. Emotion swells in my breast, but I must stay focused to keep up with Delfina. Her shapely hips swing and her long, muscular legs make it difficult to keep pace with her.
We reach a staircase that leads up to a wooden hatch in the ceiling like the door to a cellar. She pulls away the bar and pushes open the door. Light and warm, humid air floods into the hallway. We emerge from underground and into a small wooden structure with broken windows and vines crawling through the empty frames. Glass crunches underfoot.
“What has happened to this place?” Delfina looks about confusion. “It is as if many years have passed. It has been only minutes since they brought me here.”
“Who?” I ask. “Zimon?”
“He was with them,” says Delfina. “But it was my first mate, Robert the Black, who turned my no good crew against me. They mutinied because of Zimon and Robert the Black and they threw me in that cell where you found me. Oh, but they will pay, the dogs. All of them will pay.”
She kicks aside a rotten door, smashing it from its broken hinges, and steps out of the derelict structure. I follow her into a lush, sun-warmed jungle clearing. There are blue skies and a few puffy white clouds drift overhead. I squint at the sun, relieved to feel it on my face again after so long in the darkness. Though it seems real enough, I cannot escape the feeling that this is another of Zimon’s tricks. His “dungeon” weaves through illusions and disparate places, creating a contiguous jail where none exists.
“I should still see their boot prints in the mud,” she says, gazing down at tangled creepers and tree roots. “I do not even see the mud.”
“Zimon is a wizard,” I remind her. “He plays tricks with his magic. Maybe a much longer time has passed than it seemed when you were in that cell.”
“Bastard,” she mutters, looking out across the jungle. She stopped towards the trees, raising her voice to be heard as I followed behind her. “Gods, but The Savage Queen is a beauty. Terror of the Great Sea, the most feared ship in Scoundrel’s Bay, and the fastest galleon under any flag. She’ll be mine again, mark my words, Beatrix, and the waves will know to fear the keel of a true pirate queen.”
“You said Zimon tricked your first mate into leading a mutiny,” I say. “Why did they mutiny?”
She wheels on me and jabs the tip of a finger against my left breast as she says, “Because they’re all treacherous sea dogs! Robert the Black is the most treacherous of all! Preying upon my feelings so that I didn’t immediately put my sword in his belly? I know better now. He’ll be the first I string up.”
“So you had feelings for him?” I ask.
Delfina turns away from me and continues stomping through the jungle. I can hear her muttering more, about a game she played with Zimon called “Rotgut and Aces” and something about tying her to her bed. My cheeks redden as I imagine the beautiful pirate lashed to the posts of her bed, Zimon tickling her body with a feather. She’s arching and giggling, her high, pert breasts shuddering with each convulsion of—
Delfina’s hand shoots out and stops me as I pull abreast of her. My eyes go wide as I nearly continue forward right off a cliff. I am struck by vertigo and grab a nearby tree trunk to keep from toppling to my death.
“Shadow Cove,” she says. “It’s different. A lot different. Like years have passed.”
I overcome my fear of heights and step beside her, peering out from the jungle’s edge and off a sheer cliff many feet above a wide cove of blue water. Beds of kelp are visible waving in the tide under the water’s crystalline surface. I can just make out turtles and groupers swimming in the shallows. The U-shaped cliffs are broken by a waterfall that plunges from the jungle heights and down the rocky face. It sends mists of water rushing into the air and flows out from the seaward edge to join the cove. The flow of water also slices through a thin strip of golden sands. It is a beautiful view, but there is no sign of Delfina’s ship, nor any other human habitation.
“The Savage Queen is still here. I can feel it.” Delfina points out over the cove to the waterfall. “Behind those falls is a narrow waterway into a lagoon within the cliffs. If I were trying to hide a ship on an island this small, that is where I would stash it.”
“How are we going to get down there?”
“We jump,” says Delfina. “Oh, don’t look at me like that. We will probably survive. Of course, if we do, we will have to get past the swaugins.”
She takes a collapsible spyglass from her trouser pocket, extends it, and peers through at the placid cove. She passes the glass to me and as I peer through at the magnified view.
“I don’t see anything. Just some kelp.”
“Exactly. That much? A sure sign the fishmen infest the cove. Swaugins have a thing for human women. Reverse mermaids, we call them. No songs, only want lady sailors, will drag you d
own and have their way with you. So if they catch you, well, that’s it. They’re going to plug your holes until you forget your own name.”
“You, ah, paint a picture,” I say. “But I’m not going to jump.”
She pats the pocket on the other side of her trousers.
“I have a flask of Kyborean Fire Rum. We’ll have a drink, work up our courage, then we’ll jump.” She motions me away from the cliff’s edge. “Come on. I saw some milk melon.”
“I am not jumping,” I say emphatically, but I follow Delfina back into the jungle. She leads me to a patch of bushes with purpling leaves and elongated milky white fruit. She plucks a melon and tosses it to me. She picks up one of her own and breaks it in half, revealing its pulpy white interior. “Don’t eat the seeds, just drink the juice.”
She tips one half of the melon to her lips and gulps down the nectar, milky trickles spilling down her chin and droplets splashing her tawny cleavage. She kicks a fallen log and, apparently satisfied it will hold her weight, plops her bottom down. I sit down on a mossy rock across from her and break open my own melon. The first taste of the nectar is distinctly bitter, but as more of the juice flows into my mouth it becomes very sweet and creamy.
“Mmmmmm, not bad,” I admit.
“Wash it down with this,” says Delfina, holding out her silver flask.
I give it a sniff. Strong stuff. Almost as strong as the mash the miners used to brew in Lesser Crudridge. I’m used to the miner’s mash, so I tip the flask back and gulp down a burning mouthful of Delfina’s Kyborean Fire Rum. It’s spicy on my tongue and clears out my sinuses like one of my grandfather’s pepper stews. I pass the flask back, coughing a little.
“Not bad,” she says. “Most sailors spit out their first swallow.”
“Where I’m from, they say they mix some blasting powder from the mines into each batch of their brew.” I grin. “I’ve developed a tolerance. Not much else to do but get drunk.”
“You might be surprised to learn that even as a pirate captain it is much the same,” she chuckles. “Suck lemons, gulp down rum, and maybe find the deckhand with the biggest cock for a bit of fun.”
“Sounds like the life,” I say, slurping some of the sweet, creamy nectar from the milk melon. She passes me the flask again and I take another gulp. I can feel it in my belly now, the heat starting to radiate through my body.
“Since you’re so experience, you want to play a drinking game?”
“Is this the one you played with Robert the Black?” It seems like a harmless question, but she grabs the flask back from me.
“No, this is one I made up myself.” She takes another swig from her flask. “Are you in or are you ready to take the dive into the cove?”
There is a challenging tone to her question, but I can’t be sure if she is challenging me to drink or suggesting I’m a coward if I need more drinks before I jump off a cliff to my almost certain death. A smile quirks her full lips and her honey gold eyes twinkles with mischief.
What should I do?
Play a drinking game with Delfina
I am ready to make the jump
Guard against the swaugins
“We need to fend them off!” I cry, keeping my guard up and furrowing my brow. “We’ll back towards the waterfall. Will they follow?”
“They don’t stray far from the cove,” shouts Delfina, swinging her sword and backing the swaugins up a step. They chatter and hiss, raising their tridents defensively. “It might just work. But be wary, they are a wily bunch and they outnumber us.”
“They certainly do!” I cry, striking away a probing jab of a trident and ducking a cast of a weighted net. We battle them with great dexterity, always able to deflect each attack and back them up when they press too close.
“Jussssttttt waaaannnntttt to haaannggg out a little,” says their leader. “Mmmmmaaaaybe ttaaaaaallkkkk.”
“I hate the way this guy talks,” I say to Delfina.
“Trust me, he does not just want to hang out either,” replies the pirate.
The swaugins surge forward, hissing angrily and jabbing at us with their tridents. Their attacks feel more menacing than actual attempts to injure or kill us. These creatures want us alive and they repeatedly throw their weighted nets trying to trap us. I cover Delfina and she covers me, swatting down the nets when needed or pulling each other out of their path. It seems each of the creatures carries multiple nets along with their tridents, but we avoid them and parry their tridents until we have backed halfway up the beach.
I’m sweaty and exhausted, my hands and arm muscles aching from so many clanging parries with their tridents. The swaugins are slowing their pursuit, allowing distance to open up between them and us. One of them hurls his trident in an almost desultory manner and it impales the beach several paces short of me.
“I think they’re giving up,” I pant, continuing my retreat.
“They won’t come far onto land,” laughs Delfina. “They’re afraid of drying out!”
No sooner have these words left Delfina’s lips than we are both struck and thrown to the ground by two weighted nets. I cry out, rolling in the sand and only becoming further entangled by the slimy strands of woven kelp. My sword is knocked from my hand. I reach out for it and see the swaugins coming towards us. Three of them have attacked us from behind, perhaps hiding under the churning waters of the waterfall. We were backing towards them the whole time, being herded in their direction.
“Hang out now,” hisses the leader of the swaugins triumphantly.
“Stay back! Stay back from me!” Delfina screams, cutting free of the nut with a dagger she must have concealed in her boot. Three more nets are thrown upon her and one of the glistening fishmen yanks the knife from her hand. She screams in rage, kicking and punching, but now so entangled that she cannot even twist her neck about.
I look up, similarly entangled, utterly defeated, as the swaugins surround me. Despite my fear, a certain strange desire builds deep in my core. Now I will surely learn the depths of such urges. The swaugins will undoubtedly have their way with us.
They drag us to the sea’s edge and into the water. I have the foresight to take a deep breath before being submerged beneath the warm waves. I float between two of the fishmen, helpless and slowly drowning. They bear me deep into the waving green pillars of the kelp bed and into a spherical, membranous structure.
The swaugins untangle the net from around me and I tumble into a chamber that reeks of the sea, the slimy walls a mesh of kelp and a silvery membrane of air holding back the water with its tension. I breathe deeply, my head becoming woozy from the strong scent of the swaugins. The floor is soft and damp. Delfina spills from opened nets, rolling beside me as the swaugins climb into the chamber with us.
“This is your fault!” She cries out, looking at me accusingly. “It was your idea to guard ourselves!”
“I was only doing what—OH!”
The swaugins are upon me, hissing with lust as their webbed hands forcefully strip off my waterlogged clothing. I struggle a bit, but there are at least four of them working to undress me and that many more doing the same to Delfina. I glimpse her supple flesh between the blue-green bodies of the swaugins. Fishy lips descend upon my breasts and two of the great slimy perverts begin to suck at my breasts as if expecting me to give them milk. I cry out from the sensation, their tongues flicking my buds as their hands pull my legs wide apart. I beat at their muscular, scaly shoulders, but it’s not use.
“Ohhhhh, you fiends,” I moan, my head dropping back onto the kelp floor.
Another of the fishmen moves between my legs and I prepare myself to be mounted by whatever cocks these creatures must have. Instead, I feel curious fingers spreading and probing my pussy. A moment later, a fishy tongue laps at my slit, tasting my entrance. It seems to know where and how to lick me to produce spikes of pleasure. The swaugin laps at my clit and my clenched asshole. It tastes my depths.
“That’s nice,” cries Delfina. “Ohhhhh,
go on then, you fishy bastards. Lick it.”
I can see her on her feet, receiving similar oral attentions from a pair of the swaugins, one fore and one aft, licking her holes with apparent relish. A slimy hand turns my head urgently away from the sight of Delfina being pleasured and I find myself staring at the cock of a swaugin. It is white and slimy with a hint of pink along its shaft. There are ridges encircling it, which produces a disconcerting inhuman appearance almost like it is a huge worm. It is no bigger or smaller than a man’s cock, but it gives off a strong musk that draws me curiously towards it.
My lips are parting before I fully realize what I am doing and the swaugin hisses with pleasure as I begin to suck his cock. Being on my back and pinned beneath three of his brethren, I cannot move my head much, but I use suction and my tongue to pleasure this foul phallus. It is as I am sucking that the attentions of the swaugin between my legs finally produces a rolling, erupting pleasure in my depths. I cry out around the cock in my mouth as the orgasm overwhelms all my senses. I can see it flashing in my eyes; I can hear it in my ears. I suck harder and the swaugin I am pleasuring gives a loud, steaming hiss and squirts his seed into my mouth. His pumping chowder disappears down my throat as I have no hope but to swallow or drown in the heavy tide of his fishy spunk. It is bitter and briny, but the more I swallow, the more I crave it.
The swaugin at my mouth departs and at last the others move aside and I am mounted by the swaugin that has pleasured me with his tongue. Gasping, I wrap my legs eagerly around him and watch as he guides his cock into my pussy.
“Ohhhhhhhh, yes, fuck me,” I cry as he slides his bulging cock into my tender depths.
Beside me, I see Delfina on her hands and knees, riding atop one swaugin as another plunges his cock into her ass. A third swaugin is being intermittently pleasured by her mouth, though she keeps sliding him free of her mouth to look back over her shoulder and moan encouragement to the other two. The sight of the beautiful pirate so eagerly being fucked by the fishmen seems to affirm my eagerness.
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