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

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Princess to Pleasure Slave Adventure: The Dungeon of the Monster Breeder Page 29

by Amanda Clover


  "I am Kjall Blooded," growls the alpha. "You are mine, bitch, do you understand?"

  "Y-yes," you say, lowering your eyes to the ground.

  "A pretty one." His rough hands slide up your sides and around to cup your breasts. He pinches and roughly pulls your nipples. He chuckles at your gasp of shock. "Yes. You'll be a good breeder."

  The thought makes you shudder with fear and revulsion. What will a werewolf's children look like? Will they come out in that awful hybrid form? Kjall presses his lips to your ear.

  "On your hands and knees," he growls. "It's time to be welcomed into the pack, bitch."

  Trembling with fear, you lower yourself onto your knees and fall forward onto your hands. Your breasts quiver beneath you. The other werewolves snarl and lick their chops. You suck in a frightened breath and find yourself staring at the grass beneath you, wishing for this moment to end. Kjall does not immediately touch you.

  There is a sound like rubber stretching and tendons snapping. You look back over your shoulder and, to your horror, you see that Kjall Blooded has transformed into an enormous, gray-furred dire wolf. Not even the hybrid. He has become the full beast. The pink of his cock is visible sticking out from his sheath beneath his undercarriage.

  "Nooo," you whimper, realizing what the alpha intends.

  The weight of the dire wolf mounts your hindquarters. His rough paws hook around your hips and grip painfully at your thighs. You feel the hot slickness of his bestial cock at your entrance. He thrusts twice, missing entirely the first time and jabbing at your anus the second. You turn your hips submissively and the third thrust meets with the delicate folds of your quim.

  The fat beast cock thrusts into your virgin channel. It takes two thrusts to full pierce your maidenhead. Pain flares inside you, retreating to a hot throb of discomfort as the lupine fuckmeat begins to slide in and out of your hole. Furry bollocks slap against your clit and hot, fetid breath washes over your neck as he hunches and thrusts furiously against your ass. His cock swells. You gasp, your head jerking up as hot pleasure stabs into your belly.

  "No, gods, please," you mewl, you fingers digging into the soft soil as the huge direwolf pounds his cock into your tight channel. Tears of humiliation spill down your face. Fucked by an animal! If your parents or sisters could see you now they would die with shame.

  The other werewolves remain in the hybrid forms, circling and stroking the pink and red pillars of their fleshy cocks. Blood trickles down your legs from the scratches the alpha's claws are causing on your thighs and around your hips. He growls and pounds his cock relentlessly into you. His fuckmeat swells even more, opening your tender pussy.

  His beast cock throbs and your deflowered womb is flooded with hot gushes of lupine seed. The moment this hot cum makes contact with your inner sanctum, the magic of the dungeon maze guarantees conception. Your shame and fear wash away. Your pain becomes an unimportant footnote in the epic saga of your pleasure.

  "Yessss!" you cry. "Yes, Kjall! Fuck me! Breed me! Breed my bitch pussy!"

  You thrust back onto his spurting cock again and again. His cum overflows your quim and trickles down your thighs. You squeeze him and milk him with your inner muscles. A hot bulging knot of flesh presses against your sex and you cry out and thrust back, taking his beastly knot and sealing your pussy with his swollen flesh. For a very long time you remain tied with Kjall's animal cock. You cum again and again around his knot, loving the fullness and heat of his animal body. He pants and turns, his furry weight against your ass. He pulls and, at last, pops his knot fee from your cum-stuffed pussy. His seed gushes out and down your thighs in silky waterfalls.

  You try to catch your breath, but you feel terribly empty without his huge wolf cock filling your tight hole. You look back and see your mate has changed back into a human. He brings his flaccid flesh to your lips.

  "Suck," he says, pulling your mouth to his cock.

  "Mmmmm, yes," you cry, running your tongue over the salty remnants of his load and taking special care to lave his hairy bollocks with your tongue. You look up at him adoringly, knowing that this will be your life forever and loving that knowledge.

  "Good bitch," says Kjall, stroking your head. "That's a good... mmmmm... bitch."

  He leans his head back as you suck him, hungry to prove your obedience and love. The other pack members whine with jealousy, which adds to your enjoyment. They only wish they could have a bitch so eager to serve her mate.

  CONTINUE >

  Encounter Two - Free the Woman

  These foul creatures are using this poor woman as some sort of breeding slave. You cannot just leave her stuck to the wall.

  "It will be okay," you say. "Let me get you out of there. But we must hurry!"

  "Help meeeeee," she moans.

  You kneel down beside her and dig your fingers into the slimy pieces covering her arms. They feel like congealed jelly, slimy and sticky and difficult to tear loose. You manage to pry her arms free with an effort that splatters your breasts with the foul-smelling slime.

  "There," you say. "Let me get your--"

  "Helllppppp meeee!"

  The woman lunges at you with her freed arms and grabs you by your hair and around the neck. You were guarding against the beetles scurrying up the ledge, so the attack is sudden and unexpected and your face is dragged down to hers. You cry out in surprise and she presses her lips to your mouth. You taste foulness on her tongue as it squirms between your lips. The residues of something stomach-churning.

  You pull your mouth away, but she has a tight grip on your neck. You see the madness in her eyes. She begins to laugh crazily.

  "Heellppp meee!" This time her words take on a mocking tone.

  "Let me...let me go!" You try to push her hands away, but she drags your head lower and pushes your face against her slime-slicked breast. A swollen nipples pushes between your lips and hot, sweet milk gushes across your tongue. There is so much of it you swallow a little as you try to spit it out. The taste is delicious. Beyond delicious. It's the sweetest thing you have ever tasted.

  Your sense and will erode in that moment. You stop fighting her grasp and allow her to cradle your head against her milk-swollen tits. You wrap your lips around her nipple and greedily suck. Warm, sweet cream gushes across your tongue. You gulp it as quickly as it can fill your mouth. You moan against her breast and suckle her like a hungry tot.

  You are still nursing greedily at the woman's breast when the beetles fall upon you. There is no fear. No revulsion. You suck the milk from her breast as the first of the scarab beasts shreds your loincloth and climbs atop your back. Its segmented cock penetrates your maidenhead. You don't feel pain, only the pleasure of your master's cock driving into your womb. It throbs in your tight channel as it pushes the fleshy marbles of eggs into your inner sanctum. It begins to fuck you and pump its cum across this clutch of slippery spheres. In moments, you have been bred, and your soul is lost forever to the magic of the labyrinth's bond.

  You swallow the woman's milk until your belly is full and the scarabs have dragged you away from her. They surround you and fill your holes with their segmented cocks. You are their willing lover, stroking their bodies and begging for their eggs and their thick cum. It slops from your stretched holes. It fills your belly and oozes down your chin. A lake of it spreads beneath your body. You cry out again and again with orgasm.

  The scarabs drag you to your own place on the floor of the cave and begin to extrude the brown jelly from their bodies that they use to secure you to the floor. Even as they are pinning you down, they continue to mount your sucking mouth and drive their wriggling cocks into your leaking channel. You are glad for their attention. You love your insect masters.

  CONTINUE >

  Special Encounter - Use your mouth

  A hand may not be enough to please this rather fetching cock sprouting from the door. You bounce it again with your fingertips. Your quim would surely satisfy it, but giving up your maidenhead to open a door seems ridi
culous? Then again, what could be more ridiculous than a door with a cock? Perhaps a princess on her knees, holding the door's cock with both her hands and running her tongue around the bulbous head.

  "Ohhhh that's very nice," says the door.

  He has a clean taste and a warmth that grows in your grasp. You tease his bell with your tongue, your lust growing along with the cock's apparent hardness. After a few more licks, the thought of stuffing the thing in your mouth no longer seems so silly. In fact, it seems like quite a good idea. You press your pouting lips to it, giving a gentle kiss before you look up at the strange face, part your lips, and slide them down around the bulging bell end.

  The door groans with pleasure. You want more. You slide another bit and another into your mouth until the cock is pressed against the back of your throat. Your hands work the shaft as you let your warm mouth and a gentle suction pleasure the tip.

  "So hot and wet," moans the door. "Suck it harder."

  You hollow your cheeks around it. You also begin to bob your head, slipping your lips along the glistening wetness of the door's cock and massaging his sensitive tip. Your spit soaks down the shaft and wets your grip.

  "I cannot...ahhh...I cannot go on..."

  You suck faster and harder. You moan around the cock. You bounce your head on it and slurp loudly to show that you are eager for the door to release its seed. The cock swells between your lips. Your moaning grows louder.

  "Aaaaaahhh...here...AAAHH!"

  The cock throbs once between your lips, spattering your tongue with salty drops of seeds. It throbs again and your eyes go wide as your mouth, throat and sinuses are shot full of a hot gush of cum. It drains out of your nose and mouth. You swallow because there is nothing else to be done and your throat is filled with a hot broth of goo.

  "Gods...ahhh!" you cry, pulling off the door's cock. It bucks again in your grasp and you are walloped in the face with a goo rope as big as thick as your thumb. It splatters your open mouth, your cheeks and forehead and fouls your hair. You push the cock down and it bastes your tits in hot spunk. It takes several more pumps of jiggling gelatin strands, hanging off your nipples and spilling to the floor, before the door has emptied its supply.

  "Ohhhh, that was good," groans the door, its cock beginning to soften.

  "Yeah? Right, you've made a mess of me. How about opening?"

  You stand up, holding your spunk-covered arms and hands out to your side. You feel it in your belly too. You swallowed more than ten men might have made.

  "Very well! You have done your duty and satisfied me. I will open for you."

  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 the way 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 Seven - Attack

  The nymph's mocking expression catalyzes your will to fight. You battle back the stupefying power of the liquid surround you and reach down to draw your blade. As your sword rises above the liquid's surface, you are gratified to see the nymph's expression change to shock and concern.

  "I'm not going to die in your pitcher, you evil bitch!" you cry.

  "We'll see about that!" screams the nymph.

  She disappears from the rim of the pitcher and almost immediately you are plunged into darkness as a lid closes over the top. The liquid begins to churn all around you and you can feel finger-like appendages press and prod at your flesh. Some reach for your intimate areas, trying to wriggle inside your body like worms.

  "Noooo!" you bellow and drive the tip of your sword into the side of the pitcher with both hands. The blade pierces the vegetable flesh and light spears into the steamy chamber. You draw your blade out and attack again, this time widening a second hole.

  "Stop it," cries the nymph. "You can't escape."

  She foolishly tries to cover the holes with her hands and you drive the sword into her palm and lop off a green finger. She retreats and you are able to slice more holes into the pitcher, even as you feel her tendrils spreading your ass and pushing into your tender pucker. You keep your thighs clamped tight together so at least she cannot easily claim your maidenhead.

  You lash out again, this time stabbing well below the surface of the liquid. Immediately, the soothing, sweet-smelling juice pours out, empting in glugging gushes from the pitcher. You slice downward again and again, widening that hole and draining more liquid until you can see the pink tendrils assault you and begin to hack them away.

  Once your legs are free, you renew your attack on the side of the pitcher, finally hacking your way to freedom and spilling out into the jungle. You look up and see the nymph clinging to her plant like a bundle of twisted vines.

  "Be gone, then, troublesome human!" she cries.

  "Not just yet," you laugh, and attack the nearest pitcher.

  She screams as you hack open all the pitchers you can find. Most of them are empty, but more than one spills a partially digested person. Their pale, clammy flesh and green faces turn your stomach. These poor corpses were your destiny too.

  "You'll never trap another woman," you roar, hacking open the last pitcher.

  "I'll starve," wails the nymph.

  "Then you will starve!" you laugh, leaving her sobbing in her tree.

  The pitiful wailing recedes into the sounds of the jungle as you escape from the twisted nymph's feeding grounds.

  You find your way through the moonlit jungle to a clearing. No, something more than a clearing, you have reached the edge of the jungle once more. The walls of the dungeon curve ahead of you, thick with green moss, and the overgrown stones conceal the faint outline of a rectangular door. It is rusty iron, like the door you entered, but you are certain this is not the same door.

  Checking behind you to make sure you have not been followed, you search with your fingers for a latch to open the door. You find a hidden recess and a small mechanism that turn. You hear a clank as the door is unlocked. You pull on the mechanism and, with effort, the thick iron door swings open into the courtyard.

  You step into the dark, rough-hewn tunnel. The door slams shut behind you and you realize there is no way to open it back up. Your eyes adjust slowly to the darkness and you can make out a faint, blue light in the distant tunnel.

  The musty stone gives way to tiles and an actual hallway. A brazier of blue flame burns in the center of an open chamber. You are on your guard, but there does not seem to be a monster here. In fact, it seems many people have made camp in the past beside the blue flame. The tiled walls are covered in graffiti in various languages, but it is too dim to really make it out.

  "Two doors," you say, realizing there are two iron doors set into the graffiti-covered walls on opposite sides of the chamber.

  You study the iron doors by the dim blue flame. There are symbols carved into the stone above them. One seems to be a winged lion. The other a snake with a human head. The symbols are
crude, so it is hard to be certain what they mean.

  "Now which door do I take?" you wonder aloud.

  Which door do you enter?

  The door with the human-headed snake

  The door with the winged lion

  Encounter Eleven - Ask Xinophus about his alchemy

  "I have nothing interesting to tell," you say to the octopus-headed creature. "But I would know more about you. Please, tell me more of your alchemy. Can you truly create potions of magic?"

  Xinophus seems delighted by your question. He motions you over to his workbench with its glass alembics and bubbling flasks of foul-smelling liquids. He adjusts the flame on one and pours a vial of green liquid into another.

  "I believe you humans are quite adept at preparing foods and baking. This is not very different. Both require a keen understanding of portions and ingredients, as well as a firm grasp of the effects of heat and cold on your ingredients."

  He lifts a vial filled with silver liquid and holds it up for you to see.

  "Mardac Solution. Very expensive. It is made from the bile ducts of chimeras. One sip and an alchemist will lose his shape or, if you seek to terrify, a victim will slip into a boneless pile. The effects are long-lasting but not permanent. Madreg has me produce it for his assassins who must slip in and out of fortresses."

  "Why not use it yourself and escape this place?"

  "Were it so easy," rasps Xinophus. "In addition to my physical prison, I am contained in a prison of the mind. Madreg has placed a curse upon me. I cannot be free until his armies have completed their conquest. But, there are some pleasures to be found in my oubliette."

  Xinophus plucks another vial from a small shelf atop his workbench. He removes the stopper. His tentacles lift, exposing a small mouth with hard, black lips almost like a beak, but still somewhat flexible. He upends the vial and pours half of it into his mouth. The sight of his pale, bifurcated tongue sends a shudder through you. To your surprise, Xinophus hands you the half-consumed vial.

 

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