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Fertile in My Ex-Boyfriend's Dungeon 6

Page 25

by Amanda Clover


  I know he is right. My mighty gnome can go a hundred times a night if his claim is to be believed. And I will gladly share such pleasure with him. I adore him! Babo is so handsome and sweet!

  My hand caresses his still-hard cock as it slides from my creamy pussy. My lips remain locked to his and my tongue eagerly wrestles with Babo’s. Gods, but I want more! Luckily, he is all mine now that I’ve been bred by the gnome!

  CONTINUE >

  Free myself with the sword

  I’m not risking throwing my sword. I will cut myself free and deal with whatever monster is coming. I fumble my fingers with the grip of my sword. The heavy weight of it is reassuring, but the angle is awkward. I draw the sword, my blood rushing to my head as the blade clears the sheath and I begin chopping at the rope binding my ankles.

  “To me, silly girl!” Mishanna hisses, wiggling her bound hands. “It is almost upon us!”

  I can hear she is right. Whatever is coming will emerge into the small clearing at any moment. I hack and saw desperately at the ropes, shaking my dangling body and making little progress. I swing awkwardly but with all the strength I can muster. The sword’s blade hits a tight knot of rope and vibrates from my grasp. I cry out in dismay as the sword plummets past me – almost slicing my face as it falls – and lands beneath my dangling body.

  Mishanna curses my foolishness in her elvish tongue. I stare at the sword with cold realization that I have just doomed us both. I dangle there no more useful than the hams we keep over the counter in my family’s shop in Lesser Crudridge.

  “Sorry,” I moan.

  “You will be soon enough,” mutters Mishanna, glaring up at me over her shoulder.

  A dark shape becomes visible through the trees. It is as tall as a man but with the vague outline of a stocky horse. My heart catches in my throat as the strange creature emerges into the small clearing and reveals itself…to be a plump, white-bearded gnome sitting atop the back of a tan pony with a golden mane.

  The gnome pushes his conical hat back from its head and his eyes bulge with surprise at the sight of me hanging from the tree. Then his gaze roves over Mishanna, wriggling in her binding, her breasts heaving against their bandoliers as she fights to escape. His smile widens.

  “Goddess of the deep, not a gnome,” moans Mishanna. “I hate gnomes. Their little hands are so awful.”

  This gnome, looking jubilant, grasps the reins of his pony and swings down over its flanks to land atop the stump of a dead tree. He is no bigger than a tot of two or three, but his wizened face and graying beard betrays an advanced age. His belly strains at his belt worn over his red felt jacket. He wears blue velvet trousers that are billowy on his wee legs and make him seem even fatter. He balances some of his weight on a gnarled walking stick no longer than my forearm, though he seems spry enough not to need it.

  He surveys Mishanna and then me like a woman at the butcher’s shop deciding on the cut of meat to take home for supper. The gnome’s gaze finds my sword glittering under my head.

  “Ah, being naughty!” He says in a scratchy little voice. “Been trying to cut your way out of Babo’s traps?”

  Babo, I presume, hops down from the stump and picks up my sword, hefting it with some effort before carrying it back over to his pony. He slides my weapon into the pony’s saddlebags and feeds the animal a berry from the palm of his hand. It whinnies and swishes its golden tail, munching on the fruit.

  Babo walks back, stroking Mishanna’s shoulder with the little nubs of his fingers as he passes her, which causes the normally fearless elf to cringe away from him. He walks back over to me, standing almost perfectly at my eye level.

  “Since you were the bad one,” he says. “I will start with you.”

  “What do you mean ‘start’?” I ask him.

  He smiles and draws a tiny dagger from his belt. He moves suddenly, throwing it past my feet with incredible accuracy and slicing through the rope connecting my ankles to the branch. I drop heavily, though shield my head with my free arm as I drop onto my face. I pull my knees under me, but my ankles and my left arm are still bound.

  Babo plants a booted foot on my side and gives me a shove. I topple over and roll onto my back, crying out as I find myself looking up at the wee gnome. His little fingers wiggle excitedly and he traps the tip of his tongue between his lips as he goes straight for my breasts. He squeezes my mounds and pinches my nipples until they are visibly poking beneath my blouse.

  “Nooo! Stop that, you little cretin!” I try to twist away from him and this causes him to give my nipple an especially hard pinch. Pain jolts through me and I feel it in my clit.

  “I’ll show you little!” Babo laughs and gives my pussy a hard squeeze through my trousers causing me to cry out, then he begins massaging me. The worst part? His kneading hand feels rather nice.

  What should I do?

  Beg Babo to stop

  Say nothing

 

 

 


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