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

by Amanda Clover

  The magic leaves your fingers like loosed cobwebs, invisible and drifting through the air. For a moment, you think the spell has failed. The anger slowly slips from Bjorn's face.

  "What have you done to me?" he cries, grabbing at his head.

  "Sleep," you say. "Only sleep. And when you awake..."

  His eyes close and he crashes sideways into the table next to his chair. You pull him over to his cot and with great effort you lift him into the simple bed. You cover him with the blanket he gave you when you first arrived in his cabin.

  "Sorry, big guy," you say, looking at his handsome feature. "Maybe we'll meet again and I can make it up to you."

  Your guilt is minor. He is, after all, still a dangerous monster. You can only imagine what he might have done to you if you had attacked him with your sword. No time to worry about that. You need to get out of here.

  The black door opens easily enough into a room of almost total darkness. The floor is rocky and strewn with tiny pebbles that roll beneath your feet. There is a single round entrance cut into this stone floor, smooth and perfect, and from within you can hear a howling wind. There is the start of an iron ladder bolted into the curved shaft. You do not want to go back down, into the underworld of Madreg's dungeon, but you see no alternative.

  You climb down into the darkness.

  CONTINUE >

  Encounter Sixteen - The Cathedral of Fertility

  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 sculptures 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 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. 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 have made it at last, princess!" He 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

  Encounter Seven - Wait

  With the pitcher nymph watching your every move, you reason that it's better to wait and watch for an opportunity to make your move to escape. You sink back into the soothing liquid, cutting your eyes away from the menacing gaze of the nymph.

  "Hehehe," she giggles. "Do you like my liquid. It's okay, sweet pretty human. Relax."

  Your whole body feels warm. There's a sharpness to that sensation, particular around your quim and your sensitive nipples, just beneath the surface of the sweet-smelling liquid. It's not pain though. You hope for the nymph to leave, to give you a chance to think or an opportunity to escape. She remains at the rim of the pitcher, resting her weight on her big, green breasts squeezed against the top of the cup.

  "Awwwww, you're getting sleepy, aren't you?" She reaches down and smoothes hair from your face. You try to swat her hand away but you feel drowsy and just make her giggle as you paw weekly at her hand. "It's okay, sweet one, I can already taste you. A bit of leather. A little cotton. Mmmmm...the rest of you is all woman. One of my favorite things to eat."

  Your eyes begin to close and then snap open. The cruelly beautiful nymph's smile face splits into two wavering images and then comes back into focus.

  "Do you feel it, pretty human? You're already beginning to digest. Just close your eyes now. There's no point in fighting it any longer."

  She's right, you realize. There is no longer a point. You've waited too long and the soporific effect of the nymph's juices have eaten away at your willpower. You close your eyes and slide down the smooth wall of the nymph's cup.


  Within the cup, fleshy, finger-like protrusions begin to reach out from the wall and caress your body. It is a pleasant massage to you. As you slip into the darkness of unconsciousness, the last thing you hear is the nymph's mocking laugh.

  She watches you steaming in her pitcher for a while and then returns to her flower, closing the lid as your body digests. Fortunately, you never awaken again to experience the horror of this process. Days later, the pitcher shrivels like a dying flower, the honey-sweet liquid emptied into the nymph's body. All that remains is a corroded sword, spilling onto the ground at the nymph's feet. She picks it up and giggles at it before discarding it into the trees behind her.

  Already, new tendrils of the pitcher nymph are spreading out into the jungle among the trees and beginning to bud into deadly traps. They will soon fill with her juices, waiting for the next unfortunate princess to fall in and become a meal.

  You have perished in the nymph's pitcher and your adventure is most definitely at an end.

  < START OVER | INDEX

  Encounter Ten - Lift your mouth and stroke his cock

  Wulfgar's massive cock is too much for you to handle. The torrent of his seed might drown you. With some reluctance, you pull back, sliding his bulging tip from your throat and lifting your head from his cock.

  Before your lips clear his bulging tip, Wulfgar wraps his fingers tightly in your hair and yanks your mouth back down onto his cock. You cry out in surprise as his huge manhood violates your throat, this time on his terms, plunging deep and bulging your neck. His hot cockflesh pushes well past your swallow, down your throat until you feel, impossibly, his hot cock against your stomach. Your nose is buried in the rich musk of his pubic hair and his stones, now tight against his base, are pressed against your chin.

  "Please, no," you cry, but your words are muffled to nothing by the warrior's huge cock stretching your throat.

  He shatters your hopes of mercy and begins to sliding his cock up your throat and ramming it back down again. You gag constantly, drool spilling out of your mouth and the tang of bile in your nostrils. He thrusts in and out of your throat, his thick cock never leaving your mouth as he uses his hold on your hair and fucks your face like a rough lover.

  It is almost impossible to breathe. You panic and try to fight him off. He hangs his weapon from his belt and gather both of your hands, wrenching them behind your back as he continues to rule your stretched throat with his huge member.

  His golden eyes seem cruel as he gazes down at you. His hips work and his balls slap against your wet chin as he fucks your mouth like a mate. You feel him swelling against your lips, stretching your throat more tightly, and then you feel a powerful throb travel from his base to the tip. A sudden, hot pressure fills your belly in jerks. His massive cockhose is throbbing and spunking straight into your belly, filling you with his churning seed.

  But it doesn't stop at your belly. As you feel your belly distending with his massive cumload, his spunk begins to overfill you and back up in salty waves into your gullet. Suddenly, Wulfgar's magic cum is spurting out of your throat, filling your mouth and spraying out of your parted lips. It gushes from both nostrils and fills your sinuses with his stinging goo.

  You cannot swallow is back fast enough, it is pouring out of your face and causing you to choke painfully. Each stroke of his hard cock sends another splatter gushing from your overstuffed throat. It seems an impossible quantity as it pools on the floor between your knees and slicks your quivering breasts in a warm, sticky glaze.

  Finally, mercifully, Wulfgar's orgasm begins to diminish. He pulls his cock from your throat and his cock slips past your lips. You immediately double over and cough up more of his thick cum.

  Wulfgar steps back and his thick cockhose droops between his muscular thighs. He looks at you as you sputter and gasp for breath in a pool of his filthy seed. You hear a sound that might be laughter and then he is gone in a quickly-dissipating white mist.

  Once you have recovered and your breathing has stabilized, you adjust your loincloth and clamber weakly to your feet. Your throat is terribly raw from being throatfucked. It was an unpleasant and messy experience, but at least you weren't devoured by the manticore.

  You head for the wooden door you spotted earlier. Just before you reach it, something clicks beneath your feet and you go plunging into the darkness. Your heart flip-flops as you plummet through open space, strike a hard surface, and fall deeper, dropping down what seems to be a stone chute. Your sword sparks against the stone and you have flashes of sinister symbols of death painted all around you.

  Suddenly, you are free-falling again. You have an impression of faint blue light in the darkness and then you plummet to an unseen ground. You land painfully. It feels like bones breaking.

  CONTINUE >

  Bad Ending - Brood Mother of the Goblins

  You grunt as you pick up the armload of goblings. They squirm against you, fighting with each other and with the swollen softness of your breasts to reach your nipples. One noisily latches on and you let out a groan as you feel him sucking your milk. Your other nipple gets a rough tug as two other tots battle for control. The rest of them, totaling nine plump little green goblings, wriggle against you as they wait their turns.

  It is your responsibility to care for the baby goblins, as well as the toddling goblins grabbing at your legs, and those that are already out in the mud outside your hut wrestling with each other and squawking in their mixed language.

  Preparing breakfast while you have a gobling latched to each breast is not simple. You warm the previous night's stew and try to bake snail loaf for the tribe's hunters.

  When you feel a hand between your thighs, you swat it away, think it is one of the goblings trying to climb you again. Then you feel those hands slide up to your breasts and cradle them.

  It is Teebo, one of the hunters and one of your many lovers among the tribe. You feel yourself going wet immediately, and the flush of breeding heat is a fire in your loins. You hurry the goblings to their baskets and send the toddlers out to play in the mud with the older children.

  "Make fuck," says Teebo, his thin lips curling back to show his jagged teeth. "Make fuck!"

  "Yes, my love," you say.

  The bed is hardly more than a pile of straw. You've tried to make it a bit nicer, but it is so often in use that it bears the stink of your constant mating sessions. Not that you complain for them. Your many lovers among the tribe are the highlight of each day. You cradle Teebo lovingly against you as his tongue lashes your engorged nipples. Milk drips steadily and he gleefully sucks it up, latching to one nipple and then the next as greedily as one of your goblings.

  "Oooh, someone was hungry," you giggle, pulling him against your soft mound.

  While Teebo is licking and slurping at your nipple, his stiff cock is pressed against your belly, reminding you of his true desire. You slip your hand down and grasp his goblin prick, giving it a squeeze and gently tugging. You roll Teebo onto his back and climb atop him, pushing the eager little beasty's hardness between your thighs. It slips easily into your slick cunt, filling you with the hot goblin fuckmeat you so desperately desire.

  "Oooohh, yes," you moan. "I love it."

  "Yessss," squeals Teebo. "Milkbubs go up and down."

  They certainly do, heaving and bouncing to-and-fro as you ride with the goblin between your plump thighs. Your swollen nipples fling droplets of milk as you ride atop the goblin, stroking his cock with your clutching walls. Your cries of pleasure awaken the passion of a goblin passing by your hut. Before you know it, your twosome with Teebo is joined by Gulak.

  "My ass," you cry, spreading your cheeks and inviting the newcomer to your pick punker.

  He gleefully thrusts into you, grabbing your shoulders and filling your ass with his hard cock. As you bounce atop one goblin and the other pounds into your ass, you realize that you have never been happier. Soon they will fill you with the hot blessing of their cum and, knowing their potency, one or th
e other will seed your fertile womb.

  "Yesssss," you cry. "Breed me again and again. I never want it to stop."

  Rest assured, it won't stop, you will be bred again and again and give birth to dozens of goblings. Your adventure, on the other hand, is most definitely at an end.

  < START OVER | INDEX

  Special Encounter - Attack him with your mouth

  "I've always been fond of sweets," you say as you squeeze the goblin's hardness in his loincloth. "Have you got something sweet for me, Yalak?"

  "Nnnnyes!" he squeals. "Tasty thing for you."

  He slips his loincloth off and his naked cock, hot and slightly damp with precum, is in your grasp. A hot thrill travels from your loins to your trembling breasts. You quickly roll him over, onto his back, and lower your mouth to the pink-capped curve of his finger-length fuckmeat. The tip slides easily between your lips and you suck on it as you would a hard, sugary sweet. Yalak squirms beneath you and moans with delight.

  You take his cock deeper into your mouth, pressing down against your tongue as you watch his face contort with pleasure. You bob up and down his modest length. Your spit soaks to his wee bollocks and you slurp and flick your tongue against him. The more you suck, the more you ache with lust, until you have thrust your hand into your own loincloth to fondle the hot cleft of your cunt.

  "Ohhh, pretty! So good! Mouth so warm!"

  Yalak's little hips work as he fucks between your lips. Each thrust prods the back of your mouth, but does not reach far enough to gag you.

  As the goblin fucks your mouth, you bob your head up and down to greet each stroke. All the while, your fingers are working deftly at your slit. You squeeze your tender lips between your fingers and brush hard against your straining clit. Your hips work and your ass rises and falls as you fuck against your fingers.