"Take it, good bitch," growls the leader. "Suck it all out of my balls."
"Mmmmmm!" you cry, gagging yourself on cock as hot werewolf spunk begins to flood your throat. Your belly fills with the hot weight of cum as some spills down your chin drips onto the ground. The leader's cock is withdrawn and you mewl pitifully for more.
Your head bounces and your tits swing as the furry beast rutting into you from behind howls and fills you with another wonderful load of hot werewolf cum. Again, you feel the teasing of its knot, but he withdraws to make room for the runt of the group.
"Janus is the smallest," growls the leader. "But he has the biggest cock. He'll make you feel real good, bitch."
You can hardly imagine feeling better than you already do, awash in werewolf cum, the salty taste coating your throat and filling your belly. Powerful claws seize your shoulders and hot breath washes over the back of your neck. Furry haunches press against your backside and your tiny asshole is skewered on the enormous cock.
"Ohhhhhh!" you throw your head back and wail with a mixture of pain and lust. It feels as if the huge cock is going to burst you open. It stretches your belly as it begins to thrust into your clutching bowels. Hot werewolf cock rules your body and you love it. You begin furiously rubbing your clit as your ass is claimed and filled by the huge werewolf fuckmeat.
Sven howls his pleasure above your head, slamming rapidly into your stretched ass and finally filling your pucker with a flood of fuckjuice. It burns inside you, coaxing out yet another orgasm as you collapse, drenched in cum, beneath the werewolf. At last, this beast allows his knot to fill you, stuffing your already stretched hole to the absolute limit.
"The bitch loves it," laughs the leader of the werewolves as he gazes down at you knotted with the werewolf named Sven.
He's right, your ass is sealed and knotted by werewolf cock and you do love it.
CONTINUE >
Special Encounter - The Locked Door
You crawl on your hands and knees through the narrow passageway as it slopes upward. You are relieved when it opens into a stonework hallway lined with the dark sconces of long-exhausted torches. You follow the hallway, mindful of your footsteps on the uneven stones, until you reach an ornate door. Its handle is strangely in the center of the large door and carved to resemble the semi-flaccid, drooping penis of a human. Several feet above it, at roughly the same level as your face, is a simple carving of a man's face with its eyes closed.
You reach out and take hold of the cock-shaped handle and give it a tug. The door does not budge. You tug it again and there is still no movement. In frustration, you give it a third and final tug and you are shocked by a cry of pleasure. You lose your hold on the phallic handle and slip onto the floor. You look up and see that the face has opened its eyes and is staring directly at you.
"Who dares try to open me?" thunders the face, seeming to become more pink and lifelike.
When you do nothing but gawk in surprise, annoyance flashes on the face on the door.
"I am the door," it says. "You tried to open the door."
"What are you?"
"The door!" snaps the door. "Well, that's what I am now. That damned conjurer caught me trying to steal a gem from him and he imprisoned my spirit in this door. I used to be more of an elf."
"I hate that guy," you say. "He trapped me and my sisters here in the dungeon. He wants me to mate with one of his monsters."
"Yuuuuck." The door sticks out its tongue. "There are some nasty customers in here."
"So we're on the same side. Can you help me out and open up so I can continue on?"
"It's not quite that easy," says the door. "The same curse that trapped me in the door forces me to challenge all who would enter."
"Alright," you say. "I'm game for a challenge."
The door gives you a lecherous look.
"The challenge is simple, my lovely lady. All you must do is satisfy me and I will not only open, but give you fair warning about what is on the other side."
Preempting your next question, you watch as the flaccid cock handle of the door begins to grow and stiffen. It rises until it is a good ten inches in length, quite thick and capped with a fat, purple mushroom. The detail of this erotic sculpture is not just in the carving, it has also taken on a decidedly realistic fleshy tone.
You bite your lip and lightly brush your fingers against this obscene projection. It is warm beneath your fingertips. The door lets out a soft moan of pleasure.
"What do I have to do to satisfy you?"
"I am forbidden from telling you that," says the door. "But you seem to be a clever girl. I'm sure you will figure something out."
You look at the big, lovely cock sticking out from the door. Yes, you might just be able to think of something to do with that.
How do you satisfy the door?
Use your hand
Use your mouth
Use your pussy
Encounter Twelve - Surrender
This deathless fiend that looks like a man has at least been honest with you. The thought of becoming his undead bride is terrifying, but you cannot deny your body yearns for the touch of this handsome necromancer. You draw your sword slowly so as not to arouse his concern. The blade rings loudly as you toss it into the cold stone of the floor. Vardak, the old man who brought you to his master, cringes at the sound.
"I surrender," you say.
"So easily?" Telemas seems surprised by your defeat.
"I have traveled through a sort of hell I never imagined existed. If I am to be damned, then let me at least reign in this hell." You sink slowly to your knees. "I place my fate in your hands, necromancer."
The surprise on the face of the handsome necromancer twists into disgust. His lips curl back. His cold fingers reach down to caress your cheek and tilt your head up.
"You surrender to me the moment you meet me," he scoffs. "You are not worthy to be my queen, but perhaps you can be the queen for another."
He lifts his gaze and shouts, "Pick her up!"
You think he means Vardak, but the old hunchback does not move. There is an awful clattering sound and from the darkness strides a pair of living, articulated human skeletons. A faint malevolence glows in the empty sockets of their skulls. You begin to scream as they lift you to your feet, their fleshless hands gripping you with impossible strength.
"Please," you moan. "What are you doing? I surrendered!"
"Yes, a pitiful act of weakness does not mark you as my future bride. You should have given up your precious cunt to an orc or let yourself be devoured by some hungry beast." Telemas leans closer and for a moment his handsome features melt away to reveal a rictus mask of worm-eaten horror. "No one will ever love a pathetic creature like you, but you might at least entertain me."
He motions and the skeletons turn you around with your arms bent out straight and painfully wrenched upwards. This forces our upper body down, your breasts dangling forward and your bottom thrust towards the cruel necromancer.
"Vardak!" he shouts.
"Yes, my master," says the groveling old lunatic.
"Do you think she is pretty?"
"Yes, master."
"Tear off her loincloth," says Telemas coldly.
You moan, but you cannot even look back to see what is happening. Your hair hangs in your face as you stare down at the stone floor. You feel Vardak's rough hands on your hips and his fingers sliding into your loincloth. He does even bother to untie it. He yanks it roughly down from your waist, pulling it tight against your sex as he forces it down past your jiggling buttocks. It drops down your thighs and he finally unwinds it from you and tosses it aside.
"Look at her, Vardak," says Telemas. "Look at the lovely haunches of a virgin princess. Imagine the princes she might have sired. The queen she might have become. But she does not deserve that, does she?"
"No, master," says Vardak.
"Very good, my little trash picker. She is refuse. That means she is yours."
The
necromancer's words shock you and anger tightens in your guts. You want to scream, but you are afraid of the anger that might conjure in Telemas.
"Master?" asks Vardak.
"Do not make me say it again, Vardak. My only command is that you do not seed her. The bitch does not deserve the magic of the maze clouding her mind with happiness."
"Yes, master," says Vardak, obviously pleased. You let out a helpless whimper as the old man grabs your hips, turning your bottom slightly and playing the misshapen head of his cock against your tender furrow. You shudder at the contact. He presses, and your velvet flower opens to the greasy tip of his manhood. Your breath catches in your throat as he grips you tighter and plows deeper. Pain snaps through you as he violates your chastity and, in a single horrible thrust, you are ruled by the madman's cock.
"Please," you whimper.
"She likes it, Vardak," chuckles Telemas. "She wants more. Fuck her harder."
"Yes, ohhh, yes, master."
For such an old, hobbled man, he is not gentle at all. His rough hands squeeze your hips tightly and he slams his cock into your freshly opened cunt. His hairy stones swing against your clit and you feel each disgusting lump and disfigurement of his cock as it stretches your tight channel. His scabrous thighs slap against your ass. He wheezes and grunts as he violates your depths with his gnarled cock.
The cold hands of the skeletons hold you tight, but not immobile. With each thrust, your head bounces and your breasts swing beneath you. Your view is jarred and your flesh slaps loudly against Vardak. Worst of all, the wetness comes. At first from your lose of your maidenhead, hot and rough inside you, but soon a more pleasing flow that lubricates the old man's cock.
"You drip with lust for this pitiful rag picker," laughs Telemas. "I am glad you exposed your weakness, lest I might have crowned the wrong woman to be my queen."
"Please," you gasp, unable to articulate more.
"Yes, please her, Vardak. For as long as you can stand."
Vardak does not last much longer, sliding the foul appendage of his cock from your aching walls and wanking hot streams of his cum onto your back and bottom. The vile jelly spills warmly down your crack and drips from your thighs.
"Again," demands Telemas.
Vardak pushes his cock into your mouth, using your lips and tongue to arouse himself. You hang in the grasp of the skeletons, helpless and wanting it all to be over. The salty taste and the foulness of his smell inspire you to do your best to wash it away with your spit. You suck him and lick him, behavior that makes Telemas cackle with amusement.
Before long Vardak is inside you again, screwing his warty cock into you fresh-fucked hole. It is less painful this time and your cries are cries of despair rather than pain. By the third and fourth time, those cries are pleasure. Sweat drenches your body. Cum is drying from your face, your shoulders and buttocks. Your arms are marked with trickles of blood where the sharp bones of the skeletons and the movement of the constant fucking has caused the hands to cut into your flesh.
You are lost. Driving headlong towards madness as you are fucked again and again by the old rag picker. Telemas dines with you as his entertainment and when he retires to his sinister labors he has Vardak splay you on the cold slab of a mortuary and fuck you there, among all that bones and death. After many hours, you begin to pass out from exhaustion, your head lolling over the edge of the stone slab, a crazed smile on your face.
"You are mine, young princess," says Telemas. "You will be my slave forever."
CONTINUE >
Encounter Thirteen - Agree to Her Bargain
You want revenge on Madreg and you're happy to stop the rise of some daemon prince. However, if you're being honest with yourself, you mostly just want to know what sort of hospitality Ashara can offer you. It's impossible to hide your lecherous smile as you give in to the idea of sex with the demoness. She can sense your acquiescence even before you offer her your hand.
"Very well," you say a bit breathless with excitement. "I will do as you ask. And I will stay a while longer to... enjoy your hospitality."
"Mmmmmm, good girl," purrs Ashara as she takes your hand.
She pulls you with her towards the bed. Her free hand caresses your hip and you feel the weight of your sword belt dropping from your waist. It thumps softly to the carpeted floor. Her hot fingers unwind your loincloth and you are naked before you've even reached the canopy.
"Oh my," you gasp, looking at her, realizing the pleasure you are about to experience.
Ashara takes both of your hands and bring you through the curtain and into the strange crimson cushioned infinity of her bed. The canopy closes around you and the soft cushions seem to expand endlessly in every direction. Her musky perfume is overpowering. Your body is hot and you feel almost lightheaded.
"The feeling will pass," she purrs, pulling you against her so that your breasts mash against hers. "Or at least you will acclimate to it."
Whatever questions you may have about the impossible space of the succubus's bed are immediately forgotten as her soft, warm lips press against yours. You yield to her kiss with a moan and her hungry tongue invades your mouth. You embrace her and hold her against you, doing your best to fence back with your eager tongue. To compare the kiss of a succubus to any kiss that came before it is to compare the sunset to snuffing out a candle. You are a fruit devoured by her tongue. She is a sweetness that does not dissolve.
You sprawl and roll together among the pillows. Your thigh is between her legs, against the bare warmth of her womanhood, and her thigh rocks against your aching groove. You gasp and kiss her plump breasts. She pulls you against her bosom and you breathe her scene and let your tongue roam all over, finding a nipple and sucking.
Her hands cradle and squeeze your bottom. She spreads your cheeks and you feel the warm serpent of her tale curling your thigh, over your pussy, and threading between your ass. It drags across your slit and your tight clench and crawls up your back.
"Ohhhh," you cry, arching against her, nipples dragging over her plump lavender tips.
"Oh, my sweet, innocent, virgin princess. The possibilities for pleasure are endless."
"Yessss," your cry, thrusting your hips and grinding your slippery sex against her thigh. Your lust is threatening to become a frenzy. Ashara, perhaps sensing this, disentangles herself from you and rolls away, giggling. You crawl after her. She props herself up in a sitting position, legs apart to show you her lavender folds. She plucks at a plump nipple as she looks at you and touches herself.
"What do you desire, princess?" Her voice is a maddening whisper that caresses your ear. She plays her devilish tongue against her lower lip. Her long lashes flutter across her violet eyes.
You want everything, but you know you must decide. Quickly, because not touching the succubus is an agony.
What do you do?
Crawl over and kiss her again
Tell her you want to be pleasured
Pleasure her
Bad Ending - The Goblin's Mate
"A gift for pretty," says Yalak, as he begins weaving the flowers into your braided hair.
"Oh, my love, you are too kind," you cry and stop him to shower his beastly face with kisses. "Our tots are asleep. We should use this time to make more."
You take his hands and lead the goblin hunter deeper into the hut, past the baskets containing your sleeping children and into the small, clay-walled room you share with your mate. The months have gone by quickly.
You have changed so much, living with the goblins and sharing yourself with Yalak. You have grown fat with goblings and given birth to a litter of six. Your breasts have grown immense and heavy with milk and you proudly walk naked except for your bridal belt of woven reeds.
When you first arrived, the others of the tribe despised you and envied Yalak his prize. You have proven your worth to the tribe. You are bigger and stronger than them and you have even taught the medicine man Hukal some of your simpler magic.
"Caught three
rabbit," says Yalak as he settles back into the straw that you share as a bed. "Good hunt."
"You'll never catch anything better than me," you giggle, falling beside him.
You smother the goblin's face beneath your breasts. He squeezes them with both boney hands and pulls one to his mouth. You moan as he sucks greedily and your milk gushes into his mouth. He has learned how to squeeze more out and he gently, but firmly milks your swollen breasts.
"Save some for the children," you laugh and push his head away.
You kiss down his body, now as accustomed to his gray-green flesh as if it were your own tanned body. Your dripping nipples drag down his thighs as you feel his hardness between your breasts. You kiss lower and your mouth finds the tip of his cock. With a moan, you begin to suck him. You don't mind the sweat of the hunt on his body. You clean him with your mouth and continue until he is straining and bucking against your lips.
"Ohhhhh, so good with kiss on shank," moans Yalak. "Make seed come out."
You pop your lips free and ask him the question you often do at the start of your lovemaking.
"Have you brought more than one arrow in your quiver, my love?"
"Aaaahhh yes," he cries, pushing your head back down to his cock.
Your warm lips glide down his length and back up again and his prick throbs against your tongue. The familiar salty spurts of his cum fill your mouth and you savor his taste before swallowing his load. Your bobbing head slows and you let the heat of your mouth and your teasing tongue keep him hard. Goblins, you have learned, recover very quickly from their orgasms.
His hardness lingers so you lift your mouth and position yourself in your very favorite way to be mounted by the goblin. You practically bury your face in the straw and raise your thick bottom up for him. Yalak sniffs at your loins and treats you to a brief lashing with his tongue. He is still learning how to please you with his long licks, but your cunt is already soaked and eager for his cock.
Princess to Pleasure Slave Adventure: The Dungeon of the Monster Breeder Page 46