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 43

by Amanda Clover


  "It is as big as a horse's," you say.

  "You ever fuck horse?" asks Torgo.

  "Never...had the opportunity."

  Torgo steps aside, sitting down on the floor and leaning his back against the wall. His tiny black eyes dance with firelight.

  "Come, human," he beckons. "Let me feel pretty body against me. I think about let you go."

  The scale of the ogre makes approaching him like approaching a statue. You walk between his outstretched legs, untying and dropping your loincloth as you approach the swelling altar of his manhood. Your hands cradle the hot heaviness of his cockflesh. You press against it, riding it as it bends back to meet his belly.

  You climb the length of it, your ass resting on his bollocks and more than two feet of thick ogre cock held against your belly and breasts. You pull the fat cap between your tits and coo at the ghastly face of the ogre as if you are staring up at your most handsome suitor.

  "Mmhmmm," chuckles Torgo, his big belly jiggling. "Pretty human so soft."

  You work your hips, thrilling at the way your downy peach grinds against the hot steel of the ogre's cock. Your draped breasts stroke his velvet cap. The unwashed stink of the ogre is vile, yes, but such revulsion is lost as your lust grows. You lick your palms and smooth both hands against the apple of his cockhead. Precum leaks out and glistens in the firelight.

  "Feel good, human," groans the ogre. "Want more. What you give me?"

  His question sends a thrill racing up your back. You continue to move atop his cock, massaging it with your body as you consider how to answer him. Such a question must face the truth that every passing moment the fire of your lust is stoked by what you are doing.

  What do you offer the ogre?

  Your mouth

  Your ass

  Bad Ending - The Birth of Castigoroth

  Madreg pulls his cock from your creamed channel with a loud slurp. Despite your feeling of fullness, none of the demon seed stuffing your cunt drips out. The tingling in your body grows stronger and you feel a tightness in your belly, just above your loins. It grows and grows, from a pebble of pain to a boulder, your belly swelling hugely and your breasts inflating. You gasp in agony as your nipples enlarge and begin to drool milk.

  "Aaaahhhh it hurts!" you scream. The organ has fallen silent and the chanting, though continuing, is much quieter now.

  "The birth pangs," Madreg laughs. "Look at you, my princess. Such a worthy vessel for the prince."

  Pain like nothing you have felt before shoots through your body. It is as if a sword has skewered your entire spine. You arch your back against your will, thrusting your newly huge belly up and twisting your head in pain. Black light shines from your loins. Its darkness grows brighter. Its nothingness fills the room.

  "Aaahhhh makes it stop, please," you cry. The spasms are monumental, as if entire continents are shifting within your agonized body. From the blackness, a shadow, darker even than the light. It spills from your loins, a cackling chorus of demons, taking shape and setting up the chanters. The women begin to scream as the black shadow-things molest them and rend away their loincloths. In a final, climactic push, the demon prince is born from your womb. An expulsion that empties you of all life force and leaves you a shuddering husk.

  Castigoroth rises from his oily cloak of shadow to stand twice as tall and twice as wide as any man you have seen before. The slab of his body bulges with muscles. He wears bands of brass on his forearms and a furry loincloth around his waist. His legs, from beneath his knees, are those of a stout bull, which matches the sharp horns that curve forward from his snarling head. His red-skinned face is that a man, contorted in hatred and with a savage brow. A segmented scorpion's tail rises from his back, the tip dripping with brown venom.

  There is a flash of flame and a golden crown wreathed in fire appears above Castigoroth's head. It floats just above his head and moves with him as if connected by unseen tethers. You are so helpless from the birthing, you can do little other than watch as your body slowly returns to its previous condition. Yet you feel intense pride and love for the huge demon. This is your child. Demon or not, he was born from your womb.

  "Prince Castigoroth," says Madreg, bowing to the demon prince. "I welcome you to my dungeon. The armies of the north have been crushed. The south will fall easily. You may serve as my commanding general and--"

  "You call me a general?" Castigoroth's voice is like the thunder of bells in an unholy steeple. "I am a king."

  For his size, Castigoroth moves with incredible speed. His clawed fingers scythe down upon Madreg and sever the wizard's hands. A third blow removes the wizard's cock, leaving the black appendage to wither and disappear in ashes.

  Madreg howls in agony. His eyes bulge at the sight of the stumps of his hands. Castigoroth's attack has expertly destroyed the wizard's power. He might one day learn to channel his aura in some other manner than his hands, but it will take years and his powers will be greatly diminished. You smile at the sight of your son inflicting this revenge on Madreg.

  "You will serve me as a eunuch adviser," growls Madreg, "as I assume my rightful place upon the throne of this entire planet. It will be mine and you will grovel just to witness my triumph."

  Satisfied by the wizard's defeated mewling, Castigoroth turns his attention to the altar. He lifts you up in his mighty hands and smiles at you.

  "Princess," growls the demon. "The vessel of my birth. You and your sisters will serve me as doorway for my armies."

  He removes his loincloth, revealing his unholy manhood. It is much larger than Madreg's demon-cock, crimson and purple, darkening almost to black at the flared tip. The shaft is corded with veins as if overgrown with fleshy vines. Precum is already glistening at his slit.

  Cackling shadow demons carry your sisters out and throw them onto the altar beside you. They scream at the sight of the unearthly horrors occurring in the evil cathedral. Not you. A serene smile on your face and you look up at your son as he brings his cock to your entrance.

  "I love you, Castigoroth," you moan.

  "Yes, my sweet princess, and when I am done using you for your womb, you will join my court as one of my pleasure slaves." His hand roughly strokes one of your breasts. "I might even transform you into a succubus to better serve me. There is something... appealing... about fucking my own mother."

  His cock fills you and all other thoughts are thrust from your head. His wings snap open and he howls triumphantly as he begins to pound his cock into you. His seed will soon fill your womb and open the way for his unholy legions. Your sisters will suffer beside you for as long as this takes.

  CONTINUE >

  Strange Ending - Submissive Snake Sister

  You spring from the shadows and take hold of the intruder before she can even formulate an escape plan. The poor girl was so distracted by the sight of your lamia sister, that she never saw you lurking behind the door. The girl is an elf, a bit shorter than a human, with delicate features to matcher her slender body. Her blond hair is a much paler shade than your own and her otherwise flawless golden skin shows a number of scratches and bruises to attest to her difficult journey through Madreg's maze.

  "Oh, no!" she cries as you pin her arms behind her back. "Please, let me go!"

  "I hate it when they beg," says Mido. "Show some courage. You're very lucky. Usually I eat the ones that plead to be released. But not today, isn't that right, sister?"

  "That's right," you say, anticipating what is about to happen.

  "What...what do you want from me?" cries the elf.

  "Your warmth," answers Mido, "and this."

  She places her large hand over the elf's abdomen and you feel the elf shudder as you hold her arms pinned. Mido tears off the elf's tattered loincloth, exposing the elf's hairless mound a shade paler than the rest of her golden skin.

  "Please, don't do this," cries the elf. "My family...we have much gold...and..."

  "Shhhhhh," you hiss and flick your tongue against the elf's ear. "Mido wil
l make it feel very nice."

  "Oh, yes," coos Mido, caressing the elf's face. "You will enjoy your time with us."

  You turn the elf's face to you and cover her lips with your kiss. Your tongue invades her mouth as you reach one hand around her to fondle the delicious warmth of her breast. You can see the heat in her skin, flickering with the growing flow of blood to her face, nipples, and between her thighs. Her tongue begins to press back against yours as she yields to her growing desire.

  Mido spreads the girl's silken thighs and begins to tongue the hot, honeyed slit of the elf. The woman moans into your kiss, enjoying your sister's delicate tonguework. Her orgasm shudders out of her and her juices spill into your sister's mouth.

  In a haze of pleasure, the elf girl offers no resistance as your sister rises on her serpentine tail and presses her slit against the elf's hot vessel. The elf girl's eyes widen as she must feel the egg beginning to press into her virgin channel.

  "Ssshhhhhh," you soothe, stroking her belly and watching her quim, rubbing flush against Mido's slit.

  "Oh, my, she is a tight one," moans Mido. "The egg barely fits."

  "It hurts," whimpers the elf.

  "Of course it does, silly," laughs Mido. "You are a virgin. But do not fear. Soon enough I will fertilize the egg and you will be as happy as the other one."

  You glance back at the silk-curtained bed, where your egg grows inside the belly of a tawny-skinned human girl named Verissa. Your egg bride is a lovely and very obedient companion. She swooned for you the moment you pressed your fertilized egg into her womb.

  "Aaahhhh!" cries the elf girl. "I can feel it...in...in...my belly."

  You can see a slight bulge in her lower abdomen where Mido's egg has been pushed into the elf's womb. Now your sister grasps her swollen member, glistening and pink, and guides it to the elf's slit. The elf girl, sweat-damp from the pain, now moans in pleasure as her stretched channel is filled with your sister's cock. It is all over quickly for Mido and for this poor elf. The elf's body heat is too much for Mido and after only a few strokes she lets out a cry of pleasure as her seed pumps into the woman.

  "Aahhhhh! Yes!" cries the elf, as if awakening from her stupor. "Baste my sanctum with your hot seed!"

  You giggle at the turn of phrase and pinch her nipples to heighten her sympathetic orgasm. She bucks and arches in your grasp and you can see her cute little toes curling as she receives the blessing of your sister's seed.

  "Welcome to the family," you whisper to the elf girl. "What is your name?"

  It does not matter. Her adventure, like your own, is over. You have been seduced by the lamia.

  < START OVER | INDEX

  Encounter Sixteen - The Cathedral of Isharica

  You soon discover that the floor of the pit is covered in a dense, foul-smelling fog. The miasma conceals dozens, perhaps hundreds, of skeletons that crunch beneath your feet. Most are small animals, but you stumble over the occasional slime-covered limb that clearly belonged to something humanlike. There are also corroded weapons that clang when you kick them and scattered buckles and fasteners that gleam through the mist.

  The stench is more bilious than decayed, as if these skeletons and objects were regurgitated from above. You look up and see the ropes hanging in the darkness. Feeling a prickling at your neck, you hurry to get out from beneath these menacing vines. You try to listen for the drumbeat, but you do not hear it again. A faint, pinkish light becomes visible in the foggy distance. You escape the crunching field of skeletons and are grateful to walk once more over timeworn stones.

  The mists give way to an ominous building that fills the cavern. It resembles a grand temple, with encrustations of black scultpures and other embellishments, huge black doors, and stained glass windows backlit red from within. Stairs lead up to the entrance to the sinister temple.

  A single human woman stands sentinel at the door. She is nude, her breasts engorged and belly enormously gravid. Her wide hips are covered with a red loincloth that matches the red hood she wears over her head. Clear blue eyes stare at you from the holes cut in the hood. Her lips are exposed and smiling. She holds a spears against her chest. As you cautiously approach, the woman steps aside from the door.

  Your heart beats faster as you climb the stairs. There is something about the woman's eyes worse than the costume or the smile on her face. Something worse even than her obvious pregnancy. She is insane. And she was waiting for you.

  The double doors of the temple are black with age rather than paint. The dark wood is rough with mold, but the exquisite carvings still visible when you stand very close. The carvings depict huge serpents, leering demons, and human men and women all locked in a continuous, graphic orgy. The images are disconcerting, but the lust they awaken in you is worse and accompanied by a dull throb in your belly.

  Standing at the doorway, your fingers playing in the iron pull-ring, you first hear the chanting from within. A hundred women or more are chanting softly, beautifully, in a language you cannot understand. The pink pearl resting against your navel gives you the strength to continue. You take hold of the pull-ring and open one of the doors with a loud groan of ancient wood.

  The moment you step into this unhallowed cathedral, dissonant organ music begins to play. A tattered red carpet leads you beneath a carved statue of a faceless, hugely-pregnant woman and among the pews. These are filled with more of the hooded women in various stages of pregnancy themselves and they are the source of the chanting. Although this scene terrifies you, it is the altar that fills you with the greatest dread.

  Madreg the Demented hovers in the air above an altar sculpted to resemble the cupped hands of a demoness with huge breasts and a swollen belly. Her face is hidden by the pipeworks of the organ. Madreg rotates in the air and sees you slowly approaching the altar. His gaunt, cruel face breaks into a huge smile, which somehow makes him appear even more cruel.

  You hope Ashara is right about her plan, because you are walking right into what feels like a trap.

  "You have made it at last, princess!" Madreg opens his arms in celebration, the black velvet of his robe parting down the middle to expose his pallid, scarred flesh and the withered husk of his penis. "I knew you would survive. A cruelty necessary to proving your worthiness."

  "Worthiness for what?" you whisper.

  If he hears you, he ignores your question. He gestures to the massive sculpture that forms the altar.

  "Isharica," says Madreg. "Isn't she glorious? One of the lost gods, you know. Goddess of fertility. The damned inquisitors of light purged her centuries ago because they believed she was a demon and feared her power. They were right! Isharica's power allowed her to bring a demon prince to this world in the womb of a woman."

  He takes out a strangely fleshy candle from his robe and wiggles his splayed fingers. A spark of fire ignites the candle and it begins to drip hissing wax down Madreg's fingers.

  "Consecrated with the abyssal blood of a demon prince," he says. "It will suffice for our purposes."

  His magic sheds his black velvet robe entirely. It falls in squirming pieces to the floor beneath him, exposing the disgustingly emaciated and scarred body of the mad wizard. He leans his shoulders back and tips the candle over his abdomen. Hot, purple-black wax begins to drip onto his flesh. It hisses and Madreg's eyes roll back at the sensation.

  He pours the hot wax onto his groin. His tiny cock begins to grow to a full and terrible tumescence. It is hardly the biggest such appendage you have seen in your journey through the dungeon, but it is still very large and purple-black like a ripe plum. He thrusts his hips and pushes the cock towards you.

  "Come, princess. Take your place on the altar." He floats closer and extends a hand. "My bride. The mother of the new age."

  What do you do?

  WAIT

  PARLEY

  ATTACK

  MAGIC

  SURRENDER

  SUMMON ASHARA

  Aftermath - Birth of the Demon Queen

  The
last orgasmic spasm wracks your body. There is a final thrust inside you and you feel as if you are going to burst. You blink away the light in your eyes and realize that the beautiful succubus is gone. Her cum fills your quivering channel. You lift your head weakly and moan, "Ashara?"

  The tingling in your body grows stronger. The pressure you felt in your belly becomes a tightness, just above your loins, that swells into a pain. It grows larger, from a pebble to a boulder, and you watch in helpless shock as your belly swells to an enormous size. Your breasts inflate, your nipples thicken, and you let out a cry of shock as your breasts begin to leak milk.

  "W-what is happening to me?"

  Your voice is loud in the sudden silence of the cathedral. The chanters stare. The organ has fallen quiet. You are alone on the altar, alone with your pain and fear. Your body convulses again and you scream through your clenched teeth.

  The scream dies on your lips as the pain becomes a strange pleasure, like the relief of setting down a burden. You arch your back as another thrill of pleasure vibrates through your body. Lavender smoke begins to curl from your loins as if there is a fire within you. Perhaps there is, as a heat burns in your belly. The smoke becomes copious and its sweet smell billows into the cathedral.

  Another spasm wracks you and another. They follow in rapid, orgasmic contractions. You squeeze your breasts and your mother's milk gushes into the air and patters down onto your supple skin. You feel something moving within you and you push with your inner muscles to help it. There is a sudden gust of the lavender smoke and your belly begins to shrink back to its previous flatness. You feel intense, satisfying relief to the pressure inside you.

  Ashara steps from the curling smoke, fully-formed and even more beautiful than before. Her lavender tinted hair is arranged in immaculate curls that fall over her shoulders. Her hips and abdomen are cradled by a golden corset that leaves her plump and perky buttocks as exposes as her bountiful breasts. Her violet eyes now glow as if backlit. Her wings unfurl, massive and majestic, and her tail curls around one long leg.

 

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