“Yes, master,” says Hina, smiling sweetly. “But you are safe now. You will be safe forever. With me.”
She leaps into your arms and you pull her in for an embrace. Her cool porcelain lips meet yours and you taste the cool sweetness of her mouth. Her tongue is more human like, though still cool, and you realize as you caress her petite body, that this is the first time you have actually embraced one of the guide Hinas. Her body presses against yours, unyielding compared to your flesh, but still supple and lovely as you stroke her slender back down to her hips.
“Are there others?” You ask her.
“There are five Hinas available to cook, clean, and join you in the bed,” says Hina.
“And what of the world beyond?” You ask, looking out one of the nearby windows and into a placid desert environment once created for Yasmeen.
“You can never leave this place,” says Hina. “Nor can I. We are completely and permanently isolated from the outside world. It was the only way to protect this realm from Veleda.”
The magnitude of your decision sends a wave of sadness washing over you. Never again will you see your mother or sister. You will never find Theora or caress Morelle. You sag into your embrace with Hina and she strokes you in a soothing manner.
“I will take care of you, master,” she says.
“Lucas,” you croak. “Call me Lucas, please. If we are going to be with each other forever I would rather not be your master.”
“Very good, Lucas,” she says, taking your hand. “Come along. Let me make you some supper. My sisters will draw you a bath.”
You smile wearily as the Hina leads you toward the palace’s kitchen.
CONTINUE >
Tell Hina to send you back home
Much as you may want to confront Veleda or stay with Hina, you know you will miss your family and the monster girls you have come to know.
“You have to send me home, Hina,” you say.
“Of course, master,” says Hina. The humming sound you heard earlier grows louder and louder. Hina closes her eyes, but pink light bleeds from beneath her eyelids and out from her joints. You start to call out to her, to say a farewell to the beautiful golem girl, but there is a blinding flash of pink light. Suddenly, you are falling and it is very cold. You plummet through the clouds, plunging through an early morning sky and towards rolling green fields and scattered houses.
“Gods, protect me!” You cry as you seem destined to smash into the ground and perish.
You do not land gently, not quite, but as you slam into the ground you do not hear bones breaking or go bouncing off in some other direction in a lifeless tangle. There is a terrible crash, the air is knocked from your lungs by the impact and it does hurt. Quite a lot. But you are alive.
“Ohhhhhh,” you groan, pushing yourself to your hands and knees.
“It’s Lucas!” Your mother cries from nearby.
Genevieve is first to reach you. She grabs you beneath your arms and helps you to your feet as you struggle to catch your breath.
“What happened, Lucas? Are we safe?” Your mother asks with concern.
You hold up a hand and finally manage to croak out, “Don’t know.”
“I can put up wards that will hide the farm from Veleda,” says your mother. “But first, we have to rebuild the house. Do you know any repair spells, Genny?”
“A few,” says Genevieve, releasing your arms once she is sure you can stand under your own power.
“Follow my lead,” says your mother.
You watch as your mother and sister rebuild the ruins of your farmhouse. It happens with disorienting quickness; timbers, planks, glass, and stone flying together and reassembling walls, repairing pipes, furniture, and restoring the roof as they chant spells one after another. With a last power word from your mother, the lanterns light themselves and illuminate the interior of the house visible from the repaired windows.
“How is this possible?” You ask, in awe at what your mother and sister have accomplished in the span of a few minutes.
“Most of that was low level magic,” says Genevieve. “Mother knew a few spells to repair the burned timbers and bury the dead. That took a bit more magic.”
“I had no idea you knew so much magic,” you say to your mother.
She is preoccupied with further spell casting, drawing circles and symbols in the air with her fingers. Your sister explains that your mother is erecting the wards to conceal and protect your house from the wrath of the goddess.
“So we can return to our lives as they were?” You ask.
“Well, we cannot raise the dead,” says Genevieve with a glance at the barn. “But I can reseed the field and churn the soil.”
“I can do that,” says your mother, completing the wards to protect your property. “Your sister must return to the academy to finish her instruction.”
“I could stay for the term,” suggest Genevieve, taking your hand.
“No,” you say. “You should not allow this…evil…to disrupt your path to becoming a full wizard.”
“You know, Morelle was sent back to her family farm,” says your sister. “I’m not sure things will ever be the same for her, but she is only a short walk away from here.”
You think of Morelle and smile. Your mind wanders to the other monster girls and to Theora. You could set off on a journey to find any one of them.
“You could settle down here with me,” suggests your mother. “You have certainly done your duty to this world, Lucas.”
The thought of working your farm and going back to a simple life fills you with a strange welling of peace. After everything you have been through, it might be nice to say farewell to this strange life and go back to being a farmer.
What do you do?
Settle down on the family farm with your mother
Confess your true feelings for Morelle
Set off on a journey to find your love
Insatiable wife, happy life
You and Morelle are married ten sex-filled days later. Your mother has come to terms with your choice of wife and Morelle’s mother is overjoyed to have her demonic daughter out of the house. Your succubus bride looks magnificent in the sprays of white lace that constitute her wedding dress and you wear a suit your sister has sent to you from a tailor in Elzeheim.
Unfortunately, the ceremony is marred by the uncontrollable horniness of the priest, who has a visible erection during your vows. Morelle’s family and several of your friends from the village of St. Ingbert are no better. Nor does Morelle’s teasing behavior help matters. By the third time you have caught one of your guests masturbating to the sight of your wife you are furious. You send them away and decide in that moment that you will live apart from civilization.
“I only want you, my love,” promises Morelle. “As long as we are together, I will be happy.”
You bid your mother farewell and move to the mountains of Olstermark. You build a small cabin with your own hands and you herd sheep on the rolling alpine slopes. Morelle is insatiable. Every night she rides you or pleasure you until you can stand no more and some days, when you are tending your sheep, she brings you a lunch and fucks you under a tree or stuffs her tail down into your trousers and drains your cock with it.
You are happy with her and though she is insatiable, she clearly adores you and never takes too much of your life essence. To repay the great care she takes with your life force, you let Morelle indulge with the occasional visiting stranger.
When a weary traveler or lost vagabond stops by, you welcome them into your home and always depart to tend to your sheep so that Morelle can have a taste of their essence. You do not ask what goes on and she does not tell. All you know for certain is that the flushed travelers always seem a bit more disheveled and a bit less energetic than when you left.
But you are always the man in Morelle’s bed when she lays down her head for the night. You are the man she curls against and sleeps. You are husband and she, a succubus, is your loving wife.
CONTINUE >
THE END
< RESTART EPILOGUE | GALLERY >
A dangerous line of work
Serving as Yasmeen’s companion and adviser gives you an up-close view of the way she commands her budding criminal empire in Mubarrah. She uses intimidation to get what she wants from the villagers and she has a hunger that can only be satisfied by devouring those who displease her. At first, you are nauseated when this happens. You look away when her jaw pops open and the peasant or traveler that has run afoul of Yasmeen begins to scream. Your mind reels at the muffled cries of the devoured from within her distended belly, slowly growing quiet as they dissolve inside her.
“You are a cruel mistress,” you observe in her nest at night.
“And you sought me out to become my lover,” she says, stroking your face with her gentle hand. “What does that make you?”
“At least an accomplice to your evil,” you say, kissing her and caressing her soft breasts with both hands. She wraps her coils around you and draws your hard cock into the hot cove of her sex. You thrust eagerly, looking into her pitiless serpent eyes as you bury your manhood in her tight pussy. When you cum, you cling to her, and you cannot deny you have made the right choice.
Though Yasmeen favors you, there is a tension to your role as her adviser. You sometimes say things that anger her in the presence of warriors or unwary travelers who have been captured. You strenuously advocate on behalf of a family with several young children, convincing her to spare their lives and earning her ire in the process. She lets them go and even gives them water to aid them.
Such risky efforts at persuasion do not always work out so well. When you try to convince her to spare a man caught stealing from her because of his value to the village as a smithy she throws a tantrum that leaves you fearing for your life and eats the man anyway. That night, she fucks you roughly, squeezing you so tightly in her coils that it seems she intends to crush your bones. You cum inside her with a desperate gasp and she releases you just short of injury. Her size and her cruelty make her a dangerous lover.
When she is not angry with you, Yasmeen is generous and even adoring. She seems to enjoy pleasuring you between her breasts or with her mouth and is particularly fond of making love with you in her bathing pool. The natural rocks making for a fine perch for her under the cool water and she coaxes you atop her to bury your cock inside her tight cunt. You are both disappointed that she does not become pregnant despite numerous nights where she begs for you to fill her with your seed. You sense this failure to sire any children becoming a mark against you.
One night, a woman and her baby are caught trying to escape from Mubarrah with supplies looted from Yasmeen’s stores. The woman and the screaming child are dragged before Yasmeen. You intercede, arguing passionately that sparing a young mother is the right thing to do. Yasmeen fixes you with a baleful gaze and warns, “If I let her live there will be consequences.”
“Please,” you say, “spare the woman and her child. Let her go if she wishes to leave.”
Yasmeen smiles at you and nods her head.
“Let them go,” she says to her men. “Give them what they were trying to steal. If they come back, bring them to me and I will devour them both, starting with that child.”
The men depart with the relieved woman and her still-crying baby.
“Thank you,” you say to Yasmeen.
She grips you in her coils suddenly. Your arms are pinned at your side and she begins to move her serpentine lower half back and forth.
“W-what are you doing?” You gasp.
“Doesn’t it feel nice?” She teases, rubbing her coils against your stiffening cock.
“Y-yes, but you’re squeezing too tight,” you cry. “Have I made you angry?”
“A bit,” she says, shifting her coils to drag down your trousers. Your hard cock juts between the cool, smooth underside of her snakelike body. You moan as the gentle friction rubs against your cock. She pulls you against her body, your head cradled against her plush breasts and her breath tickling against your neck. She hisses, “Fuck them. Fuck my coils with your useless little cock.”
“Ohhhh, Yasmeen,” you cry, twitching between her slithering coils. “Please…not like this.”
“You naughty little boy,” she hisses. “Always so quick to stand up for the criminals. I think you…like them better than me.”
You moan in an agony of helpless pleasure, your orgasm building as you are pinned tightly within her shifting coils. You let out a cry and with a hot rush you cum, spurting your seed over her coils and twitching in her grasp.
“N-no,” you cry, hearing a familiar pop above you as her jaw unhinges. “No, please. I…I love you, Yasmeen.”
She stops. You hear a softer pop as her jaw resets.
“You love me?”
“Yes, more than anything,” you cry desperately as her coils continue to stimulate your over-sensitive cock. “Please. I only advised you to let that woman go…because eating her baby might have…ohhhh…cause a mutiny.”
“Ah,” she says, hissing softly, her tongue tickling your neck and earlobe. “Perhaps you were wiser than I thought.”
“Always…oooohhhhh…looking out for…aaaaaaAAH!” You cry out as you cum again through her coils, unable to stop yourself or prevent the shameful spurting of your spunk as it trickles down her crimson scales.
“Very well, Lucas,” she says, releasing you from her coils. “Perhaps I misjudged. I will spare you. Tonight.”
Your relief is cold and small. As you look up at her, you know you are doomed.
It’s only a matter of when.
CONTINUE >
THE END
< RESTART EPILOGUE | GALLERY >
Overflowing with slime
You are awakened in your bed by the sensation of several hands grabbing your cock all at once. It takes you a moment to slip out of your dream of a slime girl orgy and realize that your cock is actually being stroked and caressed by at least four hands. You see lumpy shapes moving under your blanket and you gasp and yank back the cover from your body.
“Beeba! Alla! Yena! What are you girls doing!?” You cry out in shock as you realize three of your slime girl offspring are vying to molest your stiff cock.
Beeba shifts her slimy body, wobbling and jiggling as she redistributes her good and forms her hands into a head. Her body rearranges itself behind her new head and she begins to suck and lick your cock. You feel another slimy tongue lapping at your heavy balls as Yena begins licking your sack. Alla, youngest of the slime girls, crawls up to your head, stroking your chest and leaning down to kiss you.
“Mmmmmmmm!” You cry against her lips, but succumb quickly to her aphrodisiac slime.
Yena and her sisters are just three of nineteen slime girls that Oola has created in the last six months. They are not your offspring, not really, because they emerged fully formed and identical to Oola. Well, physically identical, adult in the span of a few days, but they lack even her maturity and often develop their own personalities. The burbling, giggling slime girls continue to suck, kiss, and lick you as you sprawl helpless beneath them. It won’t be long before they make you cum and once they’ve had a taste you know all too well that they will keep going until you are exhausted.
The door to your bedroom suddenly slams open and Oola steps into the room with an apron tied around her waist and a wooden spoon in one hand.
“Get out of here you naughty girls!” She cries, waving the wooden spoon and swatting them on their jiggling rear ends. They burble with disappointment, sliding off the bed and slinking out of the room. Your cock twitches at the sight of your beautiful slime wife standing beside the bed.
“Oola,” you moan weakly. “They attacked me in my sleep, I couldn’t stop them.”
“Oh, poor Lucas,” she says, stroking your head. “I try to find them boyfriends, but sometimes they scare the boys away with how hungry they are for seed.”
Oola’s soft hand wraps aro
und your cock and she gives it a squeeze. Her breasts bulge beneath her apron, swelling with excitement as she begins to wank you with her slippery grasp.
“You’re hungry for it too,” you chuckle, watching her stroking your hardness.
“Oh, yes, master,” she burbles. “I get jealous of them taking your seed. I am so hungry for it, master, oh, please.”
“Of course, my love,” you say, thrusting against her hand. “You are my wife. My cock belongs to you.”
“Awooooo,” she burbles happily. She sheds her apron without even untying it; the garment simply passes through her body and drops to the floor. Then Oola is atop you, feeding your hard cock into her tight, slippery ass. Her arched back is to you so you can see her plush violet cheeks as they bounce and wobble and splash against your hips.
“So tight!” You moan, marveling at her perfect slimy back passage as it rides up and down your cock. Your manhood is visible as a dark shape through her translucent cheeks.
“I know you like my ass, master,” she burbles, smacking her wobbling cheeks down against your hips and swallowing up your cock as she rides you. Her huge breasts bounce and swing so much that they are visible around her back and even rising over her shoulders on upward swings. Your fingers sink into the slimy flesh of her hips and you thrust upwards, burying your cock deep in her clenching passage.
“Oh Oola, I want to fill you with my seed,” you moan, feeling your balls tightening and your cock aching for release.
“I will make more babies,” she gasps. “Fill me, please. Let me eat up all your yummy seed!”
“Ahhhhhhh!” You thrust deep, heaving her liquid body with your forceful strokes. Your cock twitches and explodes. Oola sings loudly as your cum erupts and spreads throughout her jiggling body, swirling like a milky nebula inside her. Each pump of your cum is answered by an intense squeeze from her slippery passage.
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