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

by Amanda Clover

  The hunter you followed presents his rabbit to a hugely fat goblin wearing a crown of bones and leaves. He tears off a portion of the rabbit, skewers it on the end of a blackened stick, and hefts it into the fire pit. He's claiming his portion, so this must be the chief. He barks praise at the hunter and points away from the camp. Whatever the hunter says in reply seems to anger the chief. He sends the hunter away, back into the jungle, but fortunately not back in your direction.

  There is no way you could hope to overcome this many goblins, so you decide to continue following your solitary hunter to wait for a better opportunity. You fall in behind him again and travel through a good distance of darkened jungle. You arrive at another clearing, but this time you see something that makes your heart quicken.

  The goblin steps out of the jungle and you see the curving wall of the dungeon. Thick, green moss grows on the stones and conceals the rectangular outline of an iron door like the one you entered. But it is not the one you entered.

  The goblin hunter approaches it, as if to inspect its rusted and mossy surface. You decide that now is the time to strike. You leap out of hiding and before the goblin can react you have the point of your sword at his scrawny throat. He tries to slide his hand to a knife on his belt.

  "Do you want to keep your head?"

  The goblin nods slowly in reply.

  "Then do not try to test me. I will not kill you unless I have to, but if you make me, I will end you in an instant." You prod him with the sword tip. "Speak. Tell me you understand."

  "Understand words," says the goblin.

  "What are you called?"

  "Yalak," says the goblin, patting his own chest.

  You do not know if it his name or what he calls his people. You lower the tip of your sword.

  "Do you know how to open this door?"

  "I open, yes."

  "Do it."

  Yalak reaches a clawed hand into a hidden recess and turns something. You hear a mechanism clanking as the door unlocks. He pulls and grunts with effort and the thick iron door swings open into the courtyard.

  "Open," says Yalak. "I go now?"

  You think about it for a moment. You could let the runt go, but it he has been useful so far. Perhaps having an extra set of hands, even if they are green and small, could help you escape.

  "Not yet," you decide. "You're coming with me. To make sure there are no traps."

  "Please," says the goblin, giving you a hangdog look. "I not leave jungle. This...home."

  "I'm sorry, Yalak. I don't want to take you away from your home, but I need to find my sisters. Do you understand? I need to find my family."

  The goblin seems to consider what you are saying.

  "Yes. I go. I help you find family."

  "Kirsten," you say, sticking out your hand to the goblin.

  "Kirsten and Yalak," he agrees shaking your hand. "Hunting party. For family."

  You begin to step into the darkness beyond the door. Yalak stops you with his hand on your hip.

  "I find glow bug," he says.

  Before you can stop him, he darts into the jungle and disappears. He takes just long enough that you begin to worry he has abandoned you when he returns hold a fat, wriggling grub as big as your fist. Its plump abdomen glows bright green. Yalak bites the head off the grub and spits it away. He impales the squirming glow on the end of a stick and hands it to you.

  "Good light. Now we go."

  CONTINUE >

  Encounter Thirteen - Pleasure Her Ass

  You cannot resist the creamy mounds of Ashara's plump and lovely bottom. It is magnificent! You push aside her annoying tail and focus on those soft, warm cheeks, caressing them with both hands and squeezing the tender flesh of her rump. She lifts her hips a little and moans, showing off the heart-shape of her backside and allowing you to easily spread her cheeks apart to reveal the perfect lavender-tinged pale pucker of her asshole. It is just as dainty and delicately formed as the seemingly virginal petals of her flower.

  You lean lower, inhaling the unique musk of sex that hangs around the hindquarters of a succubus. You imagine all the perfumed courtesans of the finest brothels can only aspire to such a mélange of pheromones and flowers. Like the panties of a farm girl after her first kiss.

  "Ohhh, you like my ass?" Ashara twists at her waist and reaches a hand back to smack her own bottom. Her supple cheeks jiggle and a handprint reddens on her pale flesh. She seems amused by your fascination. She purrs, "You are a naughty princess. Do you want to taste it?"

  "Y-your quim?" you ask, glancing at the velvet lips of her peach.

  "You are always welcome to," says Ashara, spreading her ass open wider with her fingers, "but I meant my ass. Taste it, princess. Lick my ass."

  Resisting a command such as this might be possible if Ashara were only human. But the perfection of her flesh and the mellifluous sound of her voice are irresistible. You let out a helpless moan as your face descends upon the soft cushion of her bottom and you bury your nose and tongue in the hot valley of her crack.

  Gods! To taste her! Clean and warm and soft beneath your tongue. She wriggles and moans, her velvet soft divot clenching tighter as the tip of your tongue finds it. You rim her faintly bitter flesh, rolling your tongue around that indentation and allowing your spit to drip against her pucker. She pushes back against you and you have to wrap your arms around her ass and hold yourself against it. You lick hungrily, driven wild by the hot scent of her, tongue burrowing at last into that forbidden hole.

  Her ass swallows up your tongue and squeezes against it. Ashara lets out a long gasp and pushes back against your face as you tongue-fuck her hole. Rising on her knees, her new position inspires you to free a hand to begin pleasuring her hot pussy. You thrust three fingers into her tight quim and work a knuckle against the hardness of her clit.

  "Oh, my, princess! You naughty, naughty girl!" Ashara gasps and grabs you by your head, pulling you against her ass and grinding that hot cleavage against your face.

  "Nnnnnnnn," you reply, stuffing your tongue deep into her clenching tunnel and fucking her roughly with three fingers.

  Your delving tongue and your pumping fingers push the demoness over the edge. You feel the squeeze of her orgasm. Her cries of pleasure so intoxicating they nearly trigger your own release. Pussy and ass grind against you and you thrust into both until you feel her slipping into relaxation. She drops back into a prone position, her ass glistening with your saliva and still slightly raised.

  You rise on your knees, catching your breath and wiping your face clean on a pillow. You lick her juices from your fingers and want more than anything to have a taste of her pussy. Ashara looks at you over her shoulder, her face flushed and her lips curled into a sensual smile.

  "I am willing to wager that is the first time you have eaten the ass of a demoness," giggles Ashara, kicking a foot into the air behind her. "Did you enjoy it?"

  "Yes, I did," you say, smacking her plump buttock and leaving a mark. "You have the most delicious bottom I've ever tasted. A small sampling, I will admit."

  You fall beside her, laughing, and embrace the demoness in a long and passionate kiss. She finally pulls away, leaving you wanting more but respectful of her obvious desire to stop.

  "We have lingered too long in this bed together," says Ashara. "It is time for you to be on your way."

  "Must I go?"

  "You must," she says and disentangles herself from your embrace. She crawls off the bed, her yummy bottom drawing your gaze as she disappears through the bed's canopy. She calls, "Come along, princess. I have a very special ring to give you. One that will seal the doom of Madreg and Castigoroth and save us both from this place."

  You wish you could stay, but saving your sisters and finding freedom is more important than the infinite pleasures the succubus might offer. You hasten to join Ashara.

  CONTINUE >

  Encounter Thirteen - Step Into the Painting

  You step a testing foot into the painting. There
is a slight tingling sensation as you pass through an invisible membrane and a pleasant heat on the other side. You stare in amazement as your foot and ankle appear in the painting. It works! This is your way out! Perhaps, you reason, Ashara has already somehow passed through the painting and sent this strange carriage to bring you to her tower.

  Without further delay, you climb into the painting. The landscape is bathed in a dreary red light and you can hear the rumbling of the storms in the distant clouds. Wind stirs your hair. Dry heat warms your flesh. The bird-headed carriage driver is still standing by the carriage, waiting for you to approach. Everything, even the giant birds drawing the carriage, are just as they appeared in the painting, only now in living and real detail.

  The carriage driver bows to you as you approach him.

  "H-hello," you say. "I am looking for Ashara. Is she at the tower?"

  He cocks his head back and forth in the manner of a bird. His black eyes blink and he emits a sweet birdsong. You're not sure why, but you find this bit of nonsense encouraging and decide to climb into the carriage's plush interior. It is dark and comfortable. The motion of the carriage as it gets underway is accompanied by the distant rumbling of thunder.

  The tower is much larger than you believed in the painting and its architecture is a crazy conglomeration of styles and materials. The interior is extravagant, but there is something forlorn about it, as if it has been nearly abandoned. Dust covers the floors of the lower levels and as you rise higher into the tower, following winding staircases, you encounter scenes of death and destruction. Numerous bird-headed men lie long-dead, sprawled and mummified among broken furniture.

  Why would Ashara send you here? Is this punishment for something?

  You are relieved to arrive upon one of the upper floors and find burning lanterns and a well-kept suite of luxurious rooms. Several bird-headed men stand at attention around the room. One approaches you with a tray of food. Another bring you a goblet of sweet wine.

  "Th-thank you," you say. "Do you know where Ashara might be?"

  The bird-headed men chirp and bow and withdraw to the sides of the room. There is a lovely stone bath and a huge bed. Glass picture windows that look out upon the strange and desolate landscape. A vast library of books to read. And, when you want it, food or drink is brought to you by the bird-headed men.

  It's all so very comfortable, but where is Ashara? None of the bird-headed men will answer.

  Hours become days. You sleep and bathe and eat and explore the dark, damaged lower levels of the tower. A battle swept through this place. These bird-headed men seemed to lose that battle as they left their dead to dry out among the ruined furniture.

  Days become weeks. Alone, save for the strange bird-headed men. Your body begins to change. Your hair grows paler, day by day, and your skin loses its color and take on a lavender hue. Your breasts grow larger, your hips more shapely, and after some weeks, you realize you are becoming a succubus. With these physical changes, your urges also grow.

  You suck a bird-headed man until he cums in your mouth and you swallow something more than just his hot seed. He reels, obviously weakened, and you feel invigorated. You repeat this effort with several others and in this way learn to control both your appetites and your burgeoning powers of a succubus.

  After a few months, your belly is clearly growing. The pregnancy comes as something of a surprise. You have preserved your womb from the bird-headed men, allowing them only into your mouth or ass, and feeding upon their essence in this way. They never complain and dutifully perform whatever act you desire. So where does this child come from? Does it belong to Ashara?

  You grow huge over the ensuing months. Your horns come in, thick and curling over your lavender-tinted hair. You are a sexual masterpiece, training on the huge cocks of the bird-headed men. You mourn your sisters and the poor bird-headed men you accidentally finish off in the throes of pleasure.

  The birth is attended by dozens of the bird-headed men. The pain is excruciating. The child, born into the water of the marble tub, grows with supernatural speed, blossoming from a child to a teenager to an adult in the span of seconds.

  "Ashara!" you cry, peering up at the radiant succubus. A burning crown hangs in the air above her head. "What has become of you?"

  "Become?" Ashara laughs. "I am reborn from the womb of a demon princess. I inherit your nobility. I am a demon queen."

  The old Kirsten might have been afraid of this pronouncement. That girl is long gone. You are a demoness, a predatory, sex-hungry demoness, and Ashara is your lover and your queen. You bow at her feet and kiss them.

  "Rise, mother," she says, lifting you into her arms and kissing you passionately. "I will restore the succubae to the great city. I will destroy Castigoroth."

  "I will help!" you pledge.

  "You have already done so much, mother." She caresses you and kisses you again. "But I accept. You will be my side when we destroy all who would deny me my throne."

  The war for the abyss has only begun, but your adventure is at an end.

  < START OVER | INDEX

  Encounter Fourteen - Handed Over to the Orcs

  The iron giant slings you over its shoulder and carries you into the firelight glow of the forge. You can see from your inverted view several gray-skinned fen orcs in ragged tunics and loincloths. Some carry weapons, including the leader of the group. It is hard for you to tell orcs apart, but you will never forget this one's scarred face. He is Reemek, the orc that brought you to this place.

  "What you bring us, gnome?" laughs Reemek.

  The iron giant deposits you unceremoniously on the floor of the foundry. The sack-cloth gown you have been given by the gnome rides up your legs exposing your shapely thighs. You hear several of the orcs gibbering in their savage language. Reemek steps forward, his gray flesh taut with muscles and his yellow eyes boring into you.

  "Princess," he says. "Thought sure I not see you again."

  "And I thought I was done with you," you spit back.

  "Fate and gnome bring us together." He gestures to the iron giant. "Good job, gnome. I tell Madreg you help."

  "I didn't do it for him," booms the voice of the giant. "I learned my lesson well with these women."

  Reemek ignores the iron giant and returns his full attention to you. He prowls closer, resting one hand on the sword on his hip and the other on the hilt of a dagger on the other side. He seems to smile around his small tusks. The other orcs in his group edge closer and he snarls and backs them away.

  "I go first," he says.

  "So that's how it is?"

  You swallow your fears. You always knew it would come to this. Surrounded by savage orcs and completely at their mercy. But a look at the iron giant only rekindles your anger. You would rather end up in the hands of these savages then spend one more minute rotting in that damned gnome's cell.

  "Alright, Reemek, you first." You draw the sack gown up your thighs and expose your golden twat. The orcs cheer in their guttural language. Reemek's smile flashes his surprisingly white teeth.

  "Good you know place. I be gentle."

  You spread your thighs wide for him and lie on your back, your tender velvet exposed through the soft gold of your fur. Your legs are pale and marked with scratches and bruises from your struggle through the dungeon. You realize, as you hold your legs behind your knees, that your legs are quivering.

  Reemek unbuckles his weapons and strips of his loincloth, revealing a huge, gray cock gnarled with bumps and ending in a fat almost purple tip. You moan at the size of it as he drops to his knees and pulls you against him. His big bollocks brush your tender groove. He tilts your hips and lines his cock up. He strokes himself and smacks the fleshy bludgeon of his cock against your slit, producing hot shocks of pleasure.

  This is it, you realize. The moment you have fought to avoid. There is no escape now.

  "Do it," you whisper.

  Reemek grunts and licks the palm of his hand. He smears the warm saliva onto yo
ur cunt, pushing with his fingers and opening your velvet folds. You only have a moment more to prepare before his cock is at your entrance. His yellow eyes stare at you as he thrusts past your soft furrow and into the hot tunnel of your virgin quim. His cock claims your maidenhead, it fills you with his throbbing steel. You cry out, twisting your head as he rams to the hilt into your virgin pussy.

  The pain is intense, but short-lived. He begins to move in and out, his heavy bollocks slamming against your exposed anus and his cock stretching and stroking inside your body.

  "Gods, it's so big," you cry.

  "Orc have big cock," he snarls. "You have little cunt. Big tits."

  He grabs a handful of the sackcloth gown and tears it open, exposing the heaving mounds of your breasts capped with your hard, pink nipples. Reemek's weight shifts onto you, bending your knees back and curling your lower body as he slams into you again and again. You juices overflow your clutching tunnel, squeezing and stroking around the huge orc cock pillaring your pussy. The pleasure is unexpected, but you do not turn away from it.

  "Yes," you gasp. "Please. Fuck me. Fuck me, Reemek!"

  "Haha!" laughs the orc. "Human girl love orc cock. I give you seed soon. You always like Reemek."

  Of course, the mad wizard's spell! When this brute spills his seed into your womb you will be helplessly at his mercy, perhaps for the rest of your life. Fear seizes you and you begin to struggle. Reemek growls and pushes you back to the floor, holding your throat in one big hand. His cock slurps into the tight sheath of your pussy, his tightening bollocks spank against your asshole, and your ass collides with him with fleshy slaps.

  Worst of all, worse even than your impending slavery, is the pleasure that overwhelms your fear and shame. The orgasm crashes down onto you like an external force. You spasm and arch your back beneath Reemek. You wail with wordless ecstasy, your inner channel rippling around the fleshy piston of the orc's cock.