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

by Amanda Clover

  You push yourself up on your hands and fuck back against him. You want to touch your clit, but you are ruled by the sensation of his cock thrusting in and out of your ass. Your tits sway and your mouth hangs open in a cry of pleasure. The loud slap of goblin on human flesh overwhelms the soft crackle of the fire.

  "Fuck seed," he cries. "Fuck seed into ass."

  "Yessss!" you wail. "Let me feel your hot seed in my ass."

  "Aaaaoooeeeee!" he cries, stretching out the vowels and holding so tight to your ass you feel his claws pierce the flesh.

  The sharp jolt of pain triggers your orgasm just as you feel his cock throbbing inside your stretched ring. His twitching goblin fucktool unleashes a hot flood of spunk up your ass and your orgasmic clenching only adds to this wave of seed. Your orgasm wracks your body as you fuck back, impaling the hot, cum-smeared vice of your hole onto his spurting cock as he fills with your his spew. You milk out every drop and then slowly slide forward off his cock.

  "Ohhhh," he groans and his length leaves you with a pop of lewd suction. You feel the hot cum dribbling out of your freshly-fucked hole. You rise high on your knees and push your bowels. Cum bubbles out from your hole and pools on the tiles.

  "So pretty," says Yalak as he watches the obscene display of you squeezing out of his cum.

  He kisses you this time, hands playing with your soft ass as he pulls you down to his level and his tongue invades your mouth. For a few seconds you are equals and then you lie back onto the ground, avoiding the gooey patch on the tiles. You drag Yalak against your breast and you both share the afterglow of your pleasure.

  "Sleep now," he murmurs, using your breast as a pillow.

  "Sleep," you agree, clenching your slippery hole.

  The darkness of exhausted sleep closes quickly over your moment of depraved happiness.

  CONTINUE >

  Encounter One - Accept His Offer

  "I will do it," you say, your voice almost a whisper.

  You feel a hot surge as you commit to pleasuring the orc. A smile spreads across his ugly face and he unbuckles his belt. It drops heavily at his feet and he unties the cords of his fur-lined loincloth. The fat, green curl of his cock sits atop the fat stones of his testicles. His shaft is veined and the tip peaks pinkly from beneath his sheath. Thick, black hair surrounds his root.

  "Before I do it," you say, stepping closer to him, "tell me your name."

  "Lobok," grunts the orc. "What you called?"

  You could be anyone to this vulgar beast. You doubt he would care, considering what you are about to do for him. But for some reason, you blurt out the truth.

  "I am Princess Kirsten Sungbaard," you say.

  "A princess? Lucky me."

  You step closer and run your hands from his muscular chest, down his belly, and to his thick, muscular thighs. You slowly sink to a crouch. He has an unwashed smell, but it is not intolerable. Sweat and a little beastly. You touch him with your fingers. You gather his cock in your hand and stroke back the skin, exposing the bulging, pink-tinged bell. You work your hand slowly and carefully. You have never done something like this before, though not for lack of thinking about it.

  You bend your lips down and run your tongue across the fat ridges of his glans. His oily precum has a faintly salty taste. It wets your lower lips as you open your mouth and begin to suck. The orc lets out a groan as you engulf his cock in your mouth. He brings his hands down to your head as your lips tighten and you bob your mouth on him.

  "So good!" groans Lobok. "Hard shank in wet mouth. So good."

  You moan around him. The more you suck, the more your desire grows. You push your hands between your thighs and begin to touch yourself as you bob your mouth on Lobok's fat cock. You steadily swallow the precum that oozes from his tip as your fingers dip into the hot furrow of your quim. You fuck yourself, two and three fingers, working in and out as your bobbing head works Lobok's prick.

  The orc is surprisingly gentle with you, touching your head and shoulders, but not pulling you onto his cock. He allows you to set the pace with your slurping mouth filled with hot, orc meat. You cannot possibly take him all, but you keep one hand wrapped around his root and stroke him as you suck. Your fists meets your lips with each stroke. Lobok's fat cock seems to swell even more.

  "Princess," he groans, "I spill seed very soon."

  You work your fingers feverishly in and out of your cunt. Your thumb strokes your clit. As your spit soaks down to Lobok's tightening balls, you know you must decide how you are going to take the orc's hot seed.

  What do you do?

  Take it in your mouth

  Stroke it onto your face

  Stroke it onto your breasts

  Encounter Fifteen - Cast a Spell On Him

  You do not want to hurt Bjorn, but he is preventing you from continuing your journey. There's no talking your way past him. You splay your fingers as subtly as possible. Bjorn notices and tries to reach out and grab hold of your wrist to prevent your casting. You step back, quickly, and speak the words for the simple and yet powerful spell.

  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 >

  Special Encounter - Wait for him to satisfy you

  "You are my prisoner," you remind the goblin. "I think you should satisfy me."

  He looks at you curiously and you stroke his face with your fingertips. You let one finger play over his thin lips and tease his mouth open.

  "Your tongue would be an able weapon."

  "Ohhhh, yes!" cries Yalak with excitement. "Tongue very strong. Show you!"

  You let out a yelp of surprise as the goblin springs from your arms and rolls you onto your back on the tiles. He falls atop you, burying his face in the soft cradle of your breasts and loudly smacking kisses into the valley between them. You giggle and squirm and then feel his fingers against you again, opening your slit as his kiss seeks out a nipple.

  "Aahhhh," you cry, grasping the back of his head as his tongue curls around one of your tender nipples. His mouth covers the sensitive bud and he sucks it between his lips. You arch against him, thrusting your trembling slit against his strumming fingers. "Oh, yes, suck my breasts. Harder!"

  He obeys, sucking so hard he lifts his head with your soft flesh still caught by the suction. Your breast finally pops free, quivering back into place and wet with his spit. He sucks your other nipple and begins to tease his fingers into your hole.

  "My maidenhead," you gasp. "Don't..."

  "Won't, pretty," he says. "You keep door locked."

  Yalak give your straining nipple a last lash of his tongue and then begins to crawl down your supple body. You spread your thighs wide for him and he climbs between them, untying your loincloth a
nd pressing his face to your inner thigh. He inhales your scent loudly and his fingers open your groove.

  "Gods," you cry, anticipating the touch of his tongue.

  "Just me. Yalak."

  He chuckles as he dips his tongue into the honey-slick groove. Your breath catches, but that first touch is nothing compared to the long lick that collides with the throbbing bud of your clit. He gives it a few testing licks and then, as you moan and squirm, he pulls at its hood with one finger and laps the pebble of your pleasure. The sensation is incredible, but also almost intolerable, almost like being tickled. You fight to endure it, scissoring your thighs against him as he laps at your bud.

  "Oh my...oh gods...Yalak! I'm cumming!"

  His deft tongue never relents. You arch against your shoulders and buttocks and thrust your cunt against the goblin's masterful tonguework. Your orgasm pulses through you in almost perfect time with his flicking tongue. Pleasure fire hot and deep and the spasms crackle from your clenching cunt to every nerve in your body. Your juices pour down the goblin's sharp chin and slick the clenching pucker of your asshole.

  When you finally release Yalak from the soft prison of your thighs, it's not to reward him for his efforts.

  "More," you growl, lifting him up and tossing him onto his back.

  "What you doing?" he asks, bewildered by your actions.

  Before he can ask another question, you climb atop his face and smother him beneath the softness of your ass. His claws hands desperately grip your cheeks and he seems to be trying to push you off, though he is careful not to scratch your pale roundness. You give him just enough room to breathe, looking back over your shoulder.

  "Lick me," you demand. "Make me cum again."

  "Yes. Yalak do good job."

  He buries his long nose in the crack of your ass and his tongue up your hot fuckhole. This time, you are in charge of your own pleasure, riding back against his face and letting his nose stroke against your clenching ass. Your gooey sex slurps against him and you pant from exertion. As you are riding atop him, you notice that his cock is sticking up, green and very erect.

  "Do you need some motivation to work that tongue?" you ask.

  "Mmmmhhmmmmm??" wonders Yalak, furiously licking your slit and wallowing in your juices.

  "I think you do," you decide.

  You drape your soft curves over him to lean forward and wrap your hand around the hot steel of his little goblin cock. He twitches at your touch and his head drops away from your ass for a moment.

  "Ohhhhhh...yes...pretty human. Pretty Kirsten. Touch shank!"

  "Get your tongue back to work, you little beast!" you command and don't touch him again until you feel his nimble tongue working at your clit.

  You stroke Yalak's hardness, working your hand up and down with a tight squeeze that produces droplets of precum at his tip. You smear them with your thumb, using them to lubricate your massage. Your other hand reaches down to the goblin's stones. They've tightened up against his root, but you fondle them all the same, teasing with fingertips and gently squeezing.

  The more you stroke him, the harder his tongue seems to work against your clit, the pleasure that causes motivates your lust and you stroke him even more vigorously. It's a perfect cycle of sensations. You decide not to announce your orgasm as it boils through you, shuddering your thighs and awakening new spasms in your pussy and ass. When you reach the other side, slipping into a gentle afterglow, you drop your head to Yalak's thigh, watching from close up as your fingers work over his precum-slicked shaft.

  "Oh, Yalak," you sigh. "What a good little goblin."

  "Yes! Yes! I very good!" he cries. "Put in mouth. Please. Put shank in mouth!"

  You giggle at his desperate request. You shake your ass in his face and roll your hips, but the smile on your face is not a cruel one.

  "Well, I suppose you've earned it," you say.

  You press your lips to his cock and open your mouth against his tip. The salt-smeared heat of his cockflesh presses against your tongue and fills your mouth. You slip down his length until every inch is buried in your mouth. He says something, muffled against your pussy, and then you feel a hot jet of liquid against your throat.

  "Mmmmm!" you cry out around his cock and swallow the liquid.

  It takes a moment, and another hot gush of liquid, for you to realize that he is cumming in your mouth. You tighten your soft lips around his root and slowly bob on him, flicking your tongue in the stream and using suction to coax out every drop of spurting load. Despite yourself, you rather enjoy it feeling and giving him a wet and sloppy finish as you gulp down his spunk.

  He finally goes soft and pops free of your mouth's suction. You give his soft foreskin a last lick and then climb off the goblin. He is sweaty and smeared with your cum.

  "Aren't you a mess," you laugh and stretch out beside him. He snuggles against your breasts, wresting his head on your soft mounds of titflesh. You kiss him on the top of his head. The glowing embers of the fire color you both in orange warmth.

  "Sleepy time now," says Yalak. "Milkbubs good pillow."

  "The best," you agree, cradling him there as you drift off to sleep with the goblin in your arms.

  CONTINUE >

  Encounter Twelve - Wait

  Unsure of how to react to the pale man's unpleasant offers, you decide to bide your time and keep your distance.

  "What if I choose neither fate?" you ask, taking a few steps sideways to put distance between you and Telemas and Vardak.

  "My dear," Telemas spreads his arms in a welcoming gesture, "I assure you, either choice would be to your liking. As my queen you would know riches and infinite pleasure. As my general you would know triumph and...revenge."

  You do not see other exits from the chamber other than the doorway to the laboratory. If there is another way out of this place it must be through that room. You start to edge towards the open door to the laboratory. Telemas finally betrays his anger. His face bends into a scowl.

  "What are you doing? Stalling for time?" He comes closer. "My dear, there is no escape, now--"

  You draw your sword and strike at him in a single motion. It was a move taught to you by your sword master, meant to end a combat in a single stroke. Your blade lashes out and slices the pale man's face. It is a deep wound and yet hardly prompts a reaction. A fine line of black blood appears on his cheek. It seems to squirm as if writhing with black maggots and the wound closes.

  "What are you?" you demand.

  "You will learn soon enough," says Telemas. "Seize her."

  You think he is talking to Vardak, but the kneeling bone collector does not move from his spot. Instead, cold, dry arms seize you from behind, wrenching the sword from your hand and bending your arms out to your sides. You look back and see the glowing blue eyes in the sockets of two skeletons. They wear rusty suits of armor and carry broken swords on their hips.

  Telemas slips his robe open and reveals the pale musculature of his body and a simple crimson loincloth. It seems soaked with liquid as if he has pissed himself, something completely at odds with his otherwise well-kept appearance. Your heart strains with terror as he unties the filthy cloth and lets it slip down his thighs.

  What Telemas has between his muscular thighs is a horror. His flesh seems mutilated, not as if by knife or claw, but as if burst like a boil and from within this wound wriggles a thick, tar-black snake. It is segmented like millipede but its shape mimics that of a large version of a man's appendage. It curls and waves in a prehensile fashion, black-tinted slime dripping from its length.

  "Behold, the eternal," says Telemas, striding closer.

  You can smell the death-scent of the thing. It must live within the necromancer and only emerge as his disgusting cock. It must be the source of his eternal life. Some demon or parasite creature dwelling within his ageless flesh.

  You shudder and try to shrink away from Telemas. The skeletons hold you in their bony grip and do not allow you to do much more than wince. The necromanc
er caresses your face. You feel the wet tip of his nightmare cock slithering against your inner thigh.

  "A shame I could not make you a general," he whispers. "You are obviously brave. But I require obedience. So I will make you my queen instead."

  His kiss shocks you with its coldness, as if winter lives within his mouth and his cold tongue that thrusts between your lips. His cold hand caresses your breast and plucks at your nipple, so cold it feels as if frost my spread to your areolas. Gooseflesh raises on your arms and neck. You tremble against him.

  "Don't...don't do this," you gasp, trying to stop your teeth from chattering.

  "It is too late, my dear Kirsten." His cold fingers squeeze your cheeks. "Smile for me. You are about to become my bride. For all of time."

  "Nooooo!" you scream, but your scream is silenced by another of his cold-lipped kisses.

  Telemas kicks your feet apart and the wet, amphibian flesh of the thing rising from his waist begins to prod between your thighs. The foul thing's cool slickness presses against your slit and seems to suck at the heat of your cunt. You whimper and try in vain to wrench your hands free from the skeleton warriors. The necromancer cradles your face and forces you to peer into his black eyes.

  "This will hurt," he whispers.

  The segmented cock launches into your sex, piercing your maidenhead and burrowing into your depths with a relentless, liquid force. The pain is excruciating and you sag in the grasp of the skeleton warriors as you lose your ability to stand upright. Disoriented by the pain, you lift your head, your hair hanging in your face, and you look down as the smooth skin of your belly bulges with the swelling length of the creature.

  "Gods," you moan. "Help me. Please, help me."