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 44

by Amanda Clover


  "Kirsten," she says, bathing you in the radiance of her eyes. "You have done it. I am free. I am... reborn."

  A small golden crown appears in the air above her head and bursts into flames. When she moves the crown moves with her as if it is tethered to her head. You stare at her with an adoring smile as your body returns slowly to its previous condition. She is your child. Demon or not, this magnificent succubus has somehow been born from your womb.

  Everything about the demoness seems the same and yet completely changed. As if she has grown larger without growing any larger. Ashara lifts her fingers up to the crown above her head. The flames spread to her fingertips, lavender-tinted as her pale skin, and she holds her fire-touched fingers before her face. She blows out the flames with her puckered lips. She returns her attention to you.

  "I can feel the power your womb has bestowed." She walks around to the side of the altar and takes your hand. "The royalty of your blood now flows through my veins. I am a queen, my princess. A true--"

  "You are a demon from the lowest abyss!" The voice of an old man echoes from the pews. "An abomination that must be DESTROYED!"

  You are shocked to see Oriodamus pulling back the hood of a crimson robe. You were certain the spell sage was dead and yet he looks very much alive. Ashara flicks her tail with irritation and turns to confront him. Oriodamus splays his fingers and frost begins to gather on his fingertips as he speaks the words of a spell.

  "No!" you scream.

  Despite the lingering pain of the supernatural birth, you move faster than you have ever moved before, leaping to your feat throw yourself in front of Ashara. Oriodamus's eyes bulge from beneath his furry brow and he immediately stops the casting.

  "What are you doing, child?!" he exclaims. "Move! She must be stopped!"

  "She is my flesh and blood," you gasp. "Demon or not, she comes from me now, old master. You must kill me if you want to kill her."

  "Your concern touches my black heart, princess," coos Ashara as she gently pushes you out of the way. "But you do not need to risk yourself. This withered old hedge mage is no concern to me."

  She waves her hand and wiggles her fingers, casting or using some other sort of power without need for a verbal component. Oriodamus rocks back on his feet as if struck and slumps onto one of the pews. He lifts his head, a look of dazed happiness on his face.

  "I'll deal with him," purrs Ashara, sauntering up to Oriodamus. She wiggles her fingers again and his crimson robe peels away from his pale, withered old body, exposing his gray hair and the lewd redness of his erection. You cringe at such an embarrassing sight. Your former teacher drools and babbles something as Ashara straddles his lap and reaches down to grasp his cock. "No more worries, grandfather. Just a bit of pleasure and then you can rest."

  She sinks down onto his cock and Oriodamus lets out a deep grown. His hands reach around to grasp the smooth plumpness of Ashara's buttocks as she begins to move atop his cock. Her juices spill down his shaft and glisten on his bollocks. The sight of her heaving hips and flicking tail draw your gaze. You feel a familiar desire to touch yourself. Such an erotic sight! She moves with the grace of history's greatest whore. Every movement reveals new details of her beauty in her heaving breasts, jutting nipples, and sighing lips.

  But you know how this ends. Ashara is a succubus and she will devour Oriodamus's soul. Without realizing, you have already begun to stroke the golden fur of your cunt. The sight of her riding up and down on his cock is painful to look away from. You just want to sit back on the altar and enjoy it.

  What do you do?

  Enjoy the Queen of Demons at work

  Save the spell sage from certain death

  Encounter Thirteen - Crawl Over and Kiss Her Again

  "I wasn't done kissing those lovely lips," you murmur.

  Ashara beckons you over with a curled finger. You crawl on hands and knees across the cushions towards the comely succubus. Ashara squeezes her breast and plucks at her nipple. The fingers of her other hand toy with the hairless lavender folds of her quim. You crawl over her legs and let your knees rest so close to her delicate pussy that you can feel the heat radiating from her opening.

  You stroke her face and smooth the lavender-tinted white locks from her cheek. You run your thumb across her lips and she moan and touches your passing digit with her tongue.

  "Gods," you murmur, "you're like something out of a dream."

  She smiles, obviously pleased at your compliment. Words begin to form on her luscious lips, but you silence them with the animalistic hunger of your kiss. Your mouth drives her backwards. She giggles and catches you in her arms, pulling you against her warm body and opening her lips to your eager tongue. The dream is real and hot and soft against your flesh. You press your leg against her hot furrow. Your tongue delves into the sweet secret of her mouth and shares that mutual wetness between your lips and hers.

  "Mmmmmm!" you cry, overcome with lust. Your hand falls between her thighs. You seek her sex and she seeks yours. Fingers, fumbling, dance against her hot folds. You open her and invade her. You feel the clenching tunnel of her pussy, squeezing back against you. The fleshy bud of her clit beneath your thumb.

  Her fingers are more delicate against your womanhood. She knows what to find and where to find it and she touches you in ways you would not even know to touch yourself. Ashara is mindful of your chastity, does not violate you with her fingers, but knows just how to drive you towards ecstasy by stroking and inching your tiny bud.

  "Nnnnnnn!" You bite your lip as pleasure mounts. Ashara kisses your neck. Sucks at your tender flesh. Her fingers are driving you mad with pleasure. You thrusts against her, working your fingers in and out. She gasps and shudders. Her ample breasts quiver so wonderfully you cannot help but kiss them. You manage to find a nipple and lick and suck, muffling your scream of orgasm in the softness of her bosom.

  Ashara cums almost simultaneously. You feel her stiffen and arch. She pulls you against her breast with one hand, cradling your head, while the other strums deftly between your scissoring thighs. Her tension melts into a moan that stokes your orgasm. You pop your lips free from her jiggling tit and seek her kiss once more. It is desperate, mutual, and as great as any kiss you've ever experienced.

  Your orgasm resounds far longer than you expected. You grow tired from the spasms and finally can stand no more, choosing to roll off the succubus and flop gasping beside her on the cushions. Sweat clings to your trembling breasts. Your hair clings to your cheek with hot moisture.

  "Oh, Ashara," you laugh. "I wish you could fuck me. You'd be a lover worthy of sacrificing it all."

  She curls beside you, an amused smile on her face. She is sweaty, but it only enhances her beauty. As if her exertion produced tiny diamonds to decorate and sheen her extravagant body. Her hair remains immaculate. She snuggles her breasts against your arm and tickles her fingertips over your breast.

  "Give me your hand," she says.

  You hold out a hand and she takes it. She squeezes it and looks into your eyes. You see a flash of light in those purple irises and you think you hear something fleshy shifting on the bed. Was it her tail moving? Ashara takes your hand and slides it down over her breasts, her flat belly and, where her perfectly delicate mound was before, there is no something else. Something thick and hard and hot.

  Your eyes go wide as you look down. The succubus's perfect pussy has been replaced with a huge, erect cock as thick as your wrist and nearly as long as your forearm. It is that same pale lavender as her areolas at its base, but it swells and darkens to a deep purple at the fat cap. It jerks and you let out a gasp and try to pull your hand away.

  "Don't be afraid," giggles Ashara. "I'm very... flexible... to the desires of my lovers. Do you like it?"

  "Is it real?"

  "As real as me," she breathes, nuzzling against your neck and kissing you just beneath your ear. "Go ahead, princess. Put your hand on my cock."

  How can you resist? You are barely able to link your
thumb and index finger around her cock. It is incredible warm against the palm of your hand and so hard you think you can feel her demonic heart beating through the bulging veins. You squeeze it and stroke it slowly up to the tip. Ashara lets out a girlish cry and her new cock produces a tiny, glistening droplet of precum. You stroke it a bit more, up and down her length several times, and watch, fascinated, as that droplet swells in sizes and oozes down to slip beneath your stroking fingers.

  "Be careful," moans a smiling Ashara. "It's very sensitive. Like a huge clitoris. If you keep stroking it, you're liable to get me excited."

  Watching her squirm with pleasure and feeling the iron heat of her hardness, you think that might not be such a bad idea.

  What do you do?

  Keep stroking it

  Stop stroking it

  Bad Ending - Mother to Scarabs

  It does not take long for the eggs to hatch within your womb. You feel the larvae squirming inside you and you feel a maternal instinct towards your hideous brood. Bound to the floor, your belly distended and wriggling, you sing a lullaby your mother once sang for you. Your mind is completely lost in love to the beetles that rule this cave.

  After a few hours, the larvae begin to squirm out of your oozing quim. They slink up your bloated belly and find your swollen breasts. Their little black heads clamp over your nipples and the squirming monstrosities take turns sucking milk from your bosom. When they are swollen and satiated, they go squirming off into the darkness.

  After several days and several broods of larvae, your sense of self is completely lost to the ecstasy of breeding and the duty of motherhood. Madreg appears in the cave with a bright flash of light that scatters the numerous scarabs now swarming the cave. He strides over to you and lifts your chin so he can look into your eyes.

  "Hmmm, not much left of you, is there, princess?" He lets your head drop again and crouches down to scoop up several of the fat grubs as they push out of your well-used birth canal. "These are good though. You have done well. They do not retain many characteristics of the human mother, but they might just inherit your affinity for magic."

  He drops a few of the squirming larvae into a flask and stoppers it.

  "I might be able to squeeze them into a potion. As for you, princess. I think you'll provide the potent base for an elixir."

  He brings another flask up to your breast and begins to knead and squeeze you. Milk spurts from your swollen nipples and collects in the sorcerer's jar. He massages your fat tits until your milk has nearly filled the container. You moan contentedly. Satisfied with your milk, he stoppers this container as well and tucks them into his robe.

  "I can hear your lovers chattering away," he says, standing up. "I don't think we want to keep them waiting now, do we? Goodbye, princess."

  He steps away, walking back to the center of the room where he appeared. Before he has even left the chamber, one of the scarabs has clamped is smooth body against you and is driving its segmented cock into your juicy flower. You tremble with pleasure, a mindless moan escaping your lips as you feel the tip of the beetle's appendage pressing into your womb.

  You do not know how many more broods you will survive, but what is certain is that your adventure is at an end. You have been bred by the scarabs.

  < START OVER | INDEX

  Special Encounter - Use the Rope

  You don't see any way down from the ledge and you refuse to ask Ashara for help for something so simple. Not when there's a perfectly good rope hanging right in front of you.

  You lean precariously over the ledge and grab the nearest rope. It is fibrous, more natural seeming than woven, but it seems to offer a good handhold and feels strong enough carry your weight. You give it a few testing yanks and lean out again, leaving the ledge in a slow, swinging arc. You brace your toes against the rope as well for added stability.

  Once the swinging stops, you tell yourself, you will begin to climb down. But somehow, you have introduced a spin to the motion of the rope and it begins to twist painfully around your wrists and ankles. You struggle to free them and the rope flexes in your grasp.

  "Gods, what is happening?" you cry.

  The rope slackens and droops down your arms, twisting over your body and beneath your armpits, cinching across and under your breasts, and clinging tightly to your hips. It jerks and you drop several feet and are suddenly hanging upside down. One arm is freed by the drop. Even more fortunately, your sword's scabbard is bound to your thigh by the living rope, so you do not lose your blade as you begin to ascend towards the darkness above.

  You let out another cry of fear as you see what is hauling you up.

  It is a large, roughly clam-shaped creature with a dark gray shell to match the stone but fleshy pink visible inside its parted halves. Slime glistens around its open orifice and drips down the rope. Your struggling intensifies as it reels you up, closer and closer to its grotesque maw, slime splattering onto your face and over your breasts. You manage to free your other hand. The creature, perhaps sensing your success in freeing another limb, binds your legs even more tightly.

  The warm, velvety soft flesh of its bulging entrance slithers over your feet. Hot breath hisses over you and you gag at the sour stench of rotten meat. The wet warmth slurps over your ankles and up your legs, closing with suction and pulling your lower half into the hot gurgling maw.

  You moan as it reaches your waist and you feel the slurp on your womanhood and over your buttocks. Slime saturates your crack and feels hot and not unpleasant on your quim. There may be no pain, but there is no denying the horror. Slime gushes down over your breasts and drips onto your face as it sucks you deeper.

  At the last moment, before it slurps you all the way in, you extend your arms and catch the soft edges of its mouth. Your fingers wrap around that velvet organism and touch the hard exterior shell. The pulling and sucking from within becomes more insistent. You feel a seductive warmth on your legs. It feels as if fleshy tongues are licking their way up your appendages, squirming between your toes and drawing closer to your virgin sex.

  It's all a trap, you know. Any pleasure to be found with this creature will be fleeting. If you let go with one hand you still might be able to reach your sword and attack. Or you could release your hold and cast a spell. This seems very dangerous. Should you call upon the succubus? You know you might only have moments to act, so waiting or trying to reason with this seemingly mindless beast seems pointless.

  What do you do?

  ATTACK

  MAGIC

  SURRENDER

  SUMMON ASHARA

  Special Encounter - Summon Ashara

  You slip your fingers over your slime-covered abdomen and touch the reassuring warmth of the pearl that sits against your navel. The squirming appendages prodding and stroking your body slither between your fingers.

  "Ashara, please," you gasp. "I need you now!"

  There is a flash of light that reveals, for a strobing instant, the fleshy horror of the chamber you are trapped inside, like a squeezing iron maiden filled with tongues and digestive goo. The sweet smell of Ashara fills the chamber and you are thrust even more tightly against the inner wall. Your back is against the throbbing inner wall and the probing tongues and your front is squeezed against Ashara. The succubus lets out a gasp of surprise as the creature gurgles and spews it slime all over her demonic curves.

  "Oh no," moans Ashara. "You've been pulled up by one of the cave barnacles!"

  "Help me," you moan as the tongues begin to pull apart your disintegrating loincloth. They lick and probe all over your back, reaching around your shoulders, tickling your sides, and flicking at your ears. The tongues find your ass and squirm between your cheeks. They probe at your clenched hole and wriggle and lap at your tender folds. "It feels good... Ashara..."

  "I cannot use my powers to get you out of here," says Ashara sadly. "It is going to digest you and I can't stop that."

  "Please, please help me," you beg as the slime begins to soak into yo
ur skin.

  Ashara's violet eyes gleam in the darkness. She pushes and turns and manages to get her face level with your own. Her thigh is against your sex. Her nipples press against yours. Her lips devour your pitiful whimpers and she begins to kiss you.

  Sheathed in the slime of the barnacle's digestive system, you begin to passionately kiss the succubus and grind your quim against her sex. The juices of the monstrous creature only seems to enhance your desire. The flicking, lapping tongues heighten your pleasure.

  "That's it," gasps Ashara. "Cum for me. Cum and it will be alright. I can save you from this fate."

  You feel so warm from the slime. Your skin is beginning to turn a sunburned pink as you writhe against Ashara's thigh. Her lips tingle. Her tongue seems to beckon you into the hot comfort of her demonic mouth. You orgasm tightens inside you, a last light in the encroaching darkness. Pleasure surges through you and explodes inside you, rippling in waves as you seem to slip down Ashara's tongue and into the hot gullet of her mouth.

  Darkness and warmth. You are falling. No longer trapped inside the barnacle, but falling free.

  CONTINUE >

  Bad ending - The Necromancer's Jester

  More than a decade has passed as a slave to the cruel necromancer Telemas. His secret army of the undead has finally grown so large that he has fought his way out of Madreg's dungeon, slaying Madreg's guards and capturing the castle. The demented wizard has sworn revenge, but for now, your master sits in the throne and controls the portals that open onto the realm of the real. His undead legions are poised for conquest of the world of the living.

 

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