“Mmmmmmmm,” I moan, drawn back to Petr’s hungry kiss, my hips moving as I ride atop his twitching cock. I will miss Mishanna, but she knew my words were true.
I was destined to become the satyr’s bride.
CONTINUE >
Say nothing
I won’t give this horrid little pervert the pleasure of a reaction. I bend my lips together and pinch them tightly to keep quiet as he squeezes my breasts and rubs at my quim through my trousers. I suppress every wince of pain or shudder of pleasure as he watches me and breathes loudly through his red nose.
“Oh, yes, you looked skinny hanging there, but you’ve some meat on you! Mmmmm! We’ll have fun together, girly!” His awful hands crawl all over me, unlacing my blouse and my trousers and stripping both off with grunts of effort. Being no bigger than a tot, he puts his weight into tugging my trousers down to my ankles.
Babo uses one of his daggers to cut away my panties and tears the fabric from between my clenched thighs. He gives the torn material a good sniff as he eyes my dark-thatched mound. “Mmmmmmmm. You’re a salty one. Been having fun, haven’t you?”
“Mmmm,” I bite back an annoyed reply.
The gnome tosses my panties over his shoulder and sets upon me like a ravenous little beast. He paws at my bare breasts, squeezing and pinching until I am barely restraining my cries of discomfort. As his horrid little hands are mauling my mounds, he shoves his face between my thighs and begins licking at the tufted mound of my cunt.
“Beast! Mmmm!” I cry out, wriggling my hips to attempt to escape him.
His tongue slips and slides over my folds, eliciting unwanted pleasure. The little acorn of a man knows what he is doing with that damned tongue. Gods! He flicks and sucks at my folds. He laps at the aching bud of my clit. As he works his tongue on me, he loosens the ropes on my ankles so he can spread my legs wider and wider.
“Ohhhhhh, stop it,” I moan, squirming and slapping weakly at his back. All I manage to do is knock his hat askew as he burrows between my thighs like he is trying to make a nest of me. My grip tightens on his shoulder. My thighs squeeze against him. Damn the runt, he is going to make me cum!
Just as I am driven to the gasping brink of ecstasy, Babo lifts his red, cum-smeared face up from between my thighs and grins at me.
“You like Babo, eh?” He wipes his lips and chin on his sleeve. “I will give you real pleasure! I will give you…the fist!”
He makes a fist with one hand and waggles it around. My eyes widen at the thought of what he intends.
“Now wait just a moment, Babo, that’s not…ooOOOOHHH!” My cry of protest is interrupted by a shocked cry of pleasure as Babo thrusts his entire fist into the folds of my pussy. He thrusts his clenched hand in deep into my tight channel. I am soaking and his fist pushes all the way until I can feel his little elbow rubbing against my delicate petals. The sensation steals my breath. It’s as much the size as the forceful way he begins to pump his fist and half his wee arm in and out of my clutching cunt.
The awful, slimy sounds he is making and the way he moves his clenched fingers inside me is almost too much to bear. I can feel my pleasure rising quickly. I cannot keep it from my face nor bite back the gasps and whimpers of rising ecstasy that escape my lips.
“That’s it,” laughs Babo. “Cum for me. Cum for Babo!”
“NnnnnnnaaaaaHHH!” I cry out, arching and straining my arm still bound behind my back. I can do nothing to resist the explosion of pleasure as my slick channel clutches tightly around his thrusting fist and forearm. The humiliation of it is almost as intense as the climactic waves that shudder through me. Babo cackles with glee as he watches me cum. I know he can feel it too. Squeezing and spilling my nectar around his thrusting fist.
“Yes, yes,” he laughs as I slump back to the ground. “Oh, so pretty when you cum. And now I have the real treat for you, my pretty girl!”
He slides his fist from my folds with a lewd slurp and I can see my juices glistening on his hand. I tremble and look away but cannot help but look back again as he hops to his feet and begins unbuckling the thick strap of his belt. His eyes twinkle as he unbuttons his trousers and drops them down his stunted legs.
“Now you’ll get what you deserve!” He says, yanking down his underwear and thrusting his hips towards me. “The fucking of your life!”
Babo’s cock is not even so big as my thumb. It’s as wee as the gnome and red as a tomato. His precum smears the entire little mushroom cap of it. He grins and wags his hips from side to side, which makes his cock bounce about slightly and his hairy bollocks swing beneath it.
“That’s it!?” I cry, bursting out laughing. “It’s a speck!”
“A speck, eh?” His brow furrows. “Well one thing you may not know about gnomes, girly, is that once we start, we hardly stop. I’ll cum a hundred times before I’m through with you and your plump pal with the sharp ears!”
“We’ll hardly notice,” I laugh.
He puts a stop to my laughing by leaping on me, grabbing my breasts with his grubby little hands, and thrusts his wee cock straight into the steamy folds of my pussy. His weight beats against my pelvis as he vigorously fucks me, grunting and wheezing and holding onto my tits so tightly it begins to hurt.
“Hey, slow down,” I cry. “Not so rough! Watch it – ooooohh – you little beastie!”
“Ohhhhhh! They always laugh! But then I give it to them and they can’t stand it!”
Even though he is so small, he fucks me with such force that it begins to feel quite nice. Without realizing what I’m doing, I spread my legs wider for him, feeling my nectar dripping from my pussy as the gnome ruts into my clutching cunt. His cock is so warm! Moving faster and faster!
“Ahhhhhh! Here it is! Here it is, you sassy slut!” He cries out, wincing as he throws back his head and explodes inside me. Not very deep, I suppose, but the hot sensation of his cum flooding my pussy reaches my fertile womb.
“Oh!” I cry, my eyes widening as pleasure blossoms within me. “Ohh! Ohhhh Babo! Yessss!”
I’ve never felt anything like it before. Wondrous spasms of pleasure wrack me as the gnome seeds my fertile depths and continues to thrust into me with his wee cock. He laughs as he looks up at me and sees the rapturous expression on my face.
“That’s right,” he laughs. “You’re mine now. And your elf friend’ll be next!”
“Oh, yes, Babo,” I cry, my heart bursting with love. “My mate! My love! My sweet, wee conqueror!”
He slides his cum-greased cock from my dripping depths and climbs onto my chest, sitting on his breasts as I lean my head up to take his cock into my mouth. I cradle him in my soft lips and adore him with my mouth, sucking gently and tonguing his salty, magnificent gnome cock. Behind me, I hear Mishanna moan with despair.
Soon we’ll both be mated to Babo the gnome.
CONTINUE >
Rest while Mishanna keeps watch
The crackling fire in the hearth and the steady creaking of the water wheel lull me towards sleep. I need rest more than I need to test out the mill’s obscene chair or discover what the cow girl milk potion does to Mishanna. With the comforting sounds and knowing the beautiful elf assassin is watching over me, I close my eyes.
Even still, it takes a moment, as I consider the sad story Mishanna told me about her lost lover stolen by Zimon. No wonder she is so intent on killing him. She’s not just trapped here as one of his exes; she wants revenge for a past lover the philandering wizard drove to suicide. By comparison, it makes my simple need to kick his butt for locking me in this dungeon seem a little lame.
No. It’s more than that. I need to be honest with myself. I had dreamt for years of leaving my pitiful hometown of Lesser Crudridge. Zimon was my ticket out of a lifetime washing laundry and raising kids for some drunken miner. Either that or dying alone of old age at my family’s general store and passing it on to some distant cousin.
Yeah, Zimon got me out of Lesser Crudridge and he introduced me to a world of
adventure. He showed me the sort of life I always wanted. A mysterious and dashing older man. What wasn’t to love? When things got too serious, he locked me in this torture dungeon and invited every monster to put a baby in my belly.
He has ruined my dreams and turned me into a joke for his amusement. He deserves the fire of a thousand layers of the abyss applied to his bollocks. Preferably very slowly.
Yeah, when I think about it like that, it makes revenge seem a little more justified. And it makes me finally slip off into the warm darkness of restful sleep.
CONTINUE >
The pipes of Petr
The last of the morning mist clears, leaving behind only a dewy dampness in the grass and fallen leaves as we follow the sound of the flute. The music is no tune I recognize, but it is upbeat and exciting. The sort of music I imagine might be heard at a Rama campground or perhaps a gathering of horse lords on the steppes.
Mishanna stops suddenly and holds a finger to her lips. We creep more carefully to the edge of a small clearing. She parts the branches of a maple tree. Beyond the trees, in the clearing, is a circle formed by fat mushrooms with brilliant red caps speckled with white. A shaft of golden light illuminates a mossy boulder in the center of this circle. A creature with the upper body, arms, and head of a man and the lower legs of a man-sized goat reclines on the rock, playing a banded flute with seven or eight pipes.
A satyr, I realize. A young and handsome one. Very handsome. With glossy brown hair to match the brown fur on his legs, a slender, but muscular body, and small horns emerging from his head.
“Goddess, he is a specimen,” says Mishanna with a twinkle in her eyes.
She is right and the merry music he is playing seems to stir my excitement. This satyr is a hunk. I feel drawn to him and start to step into the clearing. Mishanna’s hand on my arm stops me.
“Careful now,” she whispers. “There is not a creature more lusty or fertile than a satyr. They say a single satyr can seduce an entire village and bed every woman to give them all a child.”
“Then why aren’t there more satyrs?” I ask.
“Because men hate them and try to kill them,” she whispers. “Or so I have heard. Satyrs never venture into the under deep. Too grim for them. They keep to the forests and mountains and your human villages.”
I look back at the satyr as he shifts atop the boulder, revealing the furry sheath of his cock.
“He would impregnate us both in an instant,” whispers Mishanna.
I feel a pang of desire in my core and almost wish that he would impregnate us.
“We should go then,” I say. “We can walk around this clearing and continue on into the forest.”
“No,” she says. “He is the guardian of this fairy circle.” She points to the red-capped mushrooms. “Fey magic like this can create portals to faraway places. Sometimes other worlds. I would venture this our way out of this level of Zimon’s dungeon.”
“Then we capture him,” I say, resting my hand on the hilt of my sword. “He doesn’t seem hostile.”
“Right,” agrees Mishanna. “But be on your guard.”
She motions in one direction and then sets off in he other. I take her direction, following the perimeter of the clearing until I can just see Mishanna directly across from me. We advance slowly into the light, weapons drawn, creeping up on the flautist satyr from both his flanks. The satyr does not seem to notice our approach and continues piping away even as we step over the red toadstools and into the shaft of sunlight.
I’ll admit, I’m expecting a trap of some sort to suddenly catch us in a snare or magic, but there is nothing of the sort. The satyr remains oblivious even as we walk to within arm’s reach from either side. He still does not look up as he basks in the sunlight, his eyes closed and his pipes held to his muscular chest as he toots away on them like a fool.
Mishanna exchanges a disbelieving glance with me. I nod to her and ready my sword. We step forward, practically pressing against him as we cross our swords before his face. That finally gets his attention and he drops his pipes with a hollow clatter and his brown eyes go wide as saucers.
“L-l-l-ladies, p-please!” He cries, shielding his face with his hands. Then he seems to have another look at us and lowers his hands. He looks me up and down, his gaze lingering on my pert breasts and nipples stiff beneath my blouse. Then he turns his attention to voluptuous Mishanna and her revealing costume and nearly pitches over backwards off his perch. A grin spreads on his face and he mutters, “Oh, my lovely ladies.”
It is quite amusing until I notice his pinkish and nearly human cock has risen erect from the dark brown fur of his bestial sheath.
“The lad draws his sword at the least provocation,” I say, gesturing with my own sword to the satyr’s twitching erection.
“A-apologies,” he stammers, trying to cover himself with one hand. “My name is P-Petr. I’ve been cursed by the wizard to protect the fairy circle.”
“You control it?” Mishanna demands, betraying no amusement at Petr’s behavior.
“I do, but I can only open it if, well, ah…well…it won’t open unless I’ve been…”
“Out with it!” Mishanna says in a threatening tone, menacing him with her sword.
“I have to be satisfied!” he cries. “Don’t look at me like that! It’s true! That’s the curse the wizard put on me! I can’t help it!”
“Doesn’t seem very plausible, does it?” I say, waving my sword for emphasis. “The horniest monster just so happens to need to get off to open the portal for us. Sounds to me, Mishanna, like he’s just trying to knock us up.”
“I agree, Beatrix. It sounds like another crude ploy by another sex-crazed monster.” She rests her fists on her hips and stares dubiously at the satyr.
“N-no, I don’t need anything like that,” says Petr. “And truth be told, I’ve never even done it before.”
“What!?” Mishanna and I both look at him in amazement. A virgin satyr? Difficult to imagine, and yet, this handsome young satyr does seem to have an innocent aura and a twinkle in his eyes uncharacteristic of the satyr’s of myth.
“It’s true!” Petr says. “I always, um, explode early. I've never even had it inside, um, a woman before. I think that blasted wizard knew this about me when he put the curse on me that forces me to guard the circle and, um, the conditions on my release. Satisfy me or the, um, the magic won’t work.”
I must admit, as far as ploys to get a couple of women to have sex with him, he could have done worse. Not to mention Petr is actually cute. Definitely cuter than most men I’ve dated, including Zimon.
“Sounds like Petr needs to be satisfied,” I say to Mishanna as I sheath my sword.
“Well, I mean, you can t-try,” he says. He braces his arms on the rock behind him, his hard cock standing up stiff from his loins.
“We could just chop off his head,” she says. “Either one.”
“N-no! You need me to open the circle!”
Petr recoils in terror, but I can see it’s only a joke as soon as Mishanna sheaths her short sword and begins undressing. I do the same, unbuttoning my blouse and baring my pert breasts to the wondering eyes of the young satyr. He looks ready to fall over as Mishanna turns and peels her leather thong from between her buttocks. By the time we are fully nude, poor Petr’s cock is jumping with anticipation and dripping out precum.
Mishanna and I giggle and press our bodies together.
“We need him to open the circle,” says Mishanna, mocking Petr’s fearful tone. “I suppose one of us will need to satisfy him.”
“I think a quick wank will do the trick,” I say, making a stroking motion with my hand that causes Petr to whimper pitifully.
“The question is, which one of us?” Mishanna muses, wiggling her fingers as if in anticipation of doing the task herself.
What should I do?
Try stroking Petr
Tell Mishanna to try stroking Petr
Become the troll’s bride
&n
bsp; I look at the giant troll completely blocking the way across the bridge. His face is a grotesque mask and his long limbs could snatch us up if we tried to run past him. The troll wants one thing: a mate so that he can escape. His enormous cock twitches and drips with oily precum. I remember Nellie all those days ago, giving herself up to that rapacious slime to save my life, and I know what I must do.
I take a step onto the bridge. Mishanna grabs my shoulder and tries to pull me back, but I shake her off.
“Go,” I tell her.
“What? Beatrix, no!”
“It’s alright,” I say, smiling faintly. “If it gets you through, it’s worth it. There is no point fighting this. I…I want it to be this way.”
“Why? Why would you do this?” She demands, tears glistening in her silvery eyes.
I glance back at his cock. I feel a pang deep in my loins.
“It’s what needs to happen,” I say, pushing her. “Go!”
“What is this?” Kergel snarls, his head cocked to one side. “Decide! Who will be my mate?”
“I’ll do it!” I call out to him, taking another step towards him. “Let the elf pass and I will be your bride.”
“Come here then, human,” he says, his mouth widening into a terrifying fanged grin. “Embrace me and I will let her pass.”
“Gods, you are a silly girl,” murmurs Mishanna, brushing past me.
I step into Kergel’s outstretched arms. He embraces me with hands that encircle my slender waist and fingers that reach halfway up my back. He pulls me closer, my face even with the head of his stiff cock and his upper body looming above me. He curls over me, squeezing me against his cock and his gnarled body. He reeks of rotting vegetables and pond scum. It is a distinct, unpleasantly earthy smell.
I can hear Mishanna’s soft footsteps retreating as she crosses the bridge and a great wave of relief washes over me. Whatever will happen to me now that I am promised to the troll, at least I know that the deadly elf assassin’s adventure will continue.
Fertile in My Ex-Boyfriend's Dungeon 6 Page 15