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

by Amanda Clover

  Ashara remains atop you and inside you until her cock grows soft. She finally rolls next to you and pulls you tight against her bosom. You kiss her breasts and flick a nipple with your tongue. Your fingers tease her damp cock. Your teeth brush against her plump nipple. You thrust your creamy quim against her thigh, grinding your wetness against her supple warmth.

  "You're not satisfied?" she laughs.

  "I'm only getting started, my sweet succubus." You kiss her lips. "I want to know every secret your body has to share with me."

  "I have many," she says pulling you atop her. "We have a lot of work to do if you want to know them all."

  You spend three days and four nights in the cave with Ashara. Her feminine body and her masculine cock are both available to you whenever you desire, but that does not lessen the exciting secrets her body holds for you. She is a master of sensuality and of sexuality. And you occasionally use your magic to surprise her.

  When you are not rutting like a newlywed couple, you prowl the woods with her in search of animals for prey. Ashara can sustain life with normal food, but any use of her powers requires life force. This means her constant shape-changing for your sexual play requires a few snacks on your essence. The toe curling pleasure when she feeds, often mid-orgasm, makes you a very willing meal whenever she is hungry.

  When the time comes, you depart from the cave and set off for a nearby town. Your travels take you on several minor adventures and dangerous encounters where your bond only grows with Ashara. You finally reach the city of Kisven, a booming industrial city shared by humans and dwarves. It has streetlights powered by coal and, with a little careful use of magic, you and Ashara find some conservative clothing to match the popular fashion and blend into the city.

  For months, you and the succubus live in anonymity. You practice magic to pay the rent on a small flat and Ashara earns enough money working as a baker to ensure there is coal for your furnace and lamps throughout the long winter. You buy her a heavy fur and walk with her along the snowy streets. She flushes differently than you in the cold, her nose turning slightly purple, and the way the snowflakes melt so quickly on her extra-warm skin makes it seem like she is crying.

  "You're so beautiful, Ashara," you whisper, taking her hands. "There is something I need to tell you."

  "You do not need to say it," she says, leaning closer and slipping her hand to your belly. "I knew it before you did."

  "How long?"

  "My seed took a few nights after we left the cave. It is a daughter. She is healthy."

  "We'll have to give her a name," you murmur, the snow growing so heavy and strange in the streetlights that you feel as if you are in a world alone with the succubus. "What will we call her?"

  "Isharica," she suggests.

  "The fertility goddess that was... Old... yes. I like it." You smile and kiss her in the snow, your lips melting together, her tongue as sweet as always. "We will of course have to come up with more names, Ashara. I will give you many children."

  Oriodamus finds you in the spring, shortly before you give birth to Isharica. He tells you that he has pacified Tarol and is ready to move your sisters there. He is surprised to see you pregnant and still with Ashara, but he does not question either.

  "What do you want of me then?" you demand. "Why did you find me?"

  "I want you to return to Tarol. I want you to be queen."

  "The people will not like that I choose a woman to sit with me on the throne."

  "Make them believe in her the way you do," he insists. "If it is what you want, then I will help in any way I am able. Your sisters and I, Kirsten, we just want you home."

  Oriodamus departs in a flash of teleportation. You feel as if the peaceful romance you had built with Ashara is under threat, but when you look to the succubus you see sympathy in her violet eyes.

  "It is time for us to go to them," she says, perhaps sensing your question. "It is time for you to rule your kingdom."

  "Our kingdom," you say, taking her hands. "You will be my queen and I will be yours."

  You have a damaged kingdom to heal, a demoness to be your queen, and your half-demon daughter on the way. Your life seems destined for even greater adventures, but those are stories to be told another time.

  < START OVER | INDEX

  Encounter Eight - Magic

  Zapping this little goblin with a bolt of fire or turning him into an icicle seems like overkill. Just a simple minor polymorph spell should do the trick.

  You creep to the edge of the jungle and begin chanting under your breath. The command words are thankfully few. Your fingertips flare and an invisible bolt of magical energy leaps from your hand and strikes the oblivious goblin in the back. He staggers a step and turns to look at you accusingly. He reaches for one of the knives on his belt.

  It's too late. Before he can pluck the blade out, his fingers become tiny an rounded. White fur sprouts from them and little toenails stick out from his fingertips. The white fur spreads rapidly up his arm and across his body. His limbs and head begin to change shape. His long, pointed ears become rounded and pink on the inside.

  In seconds, the goblin hunter has been transformed into a fluffy white bunny rabbit. He hops off as you step out into the clearing.

  "Be careful," you warn him. "You should turn back in a day or two, but not if you end up in a python's belly."

  The goblin-turned-rabbit disappears into the jungle. You scoop up his catch. You'll leave the pelt, but the meat would be nice roasting over a spit. Your belly tightens in agreement.

  You make your way through the jungle, trying to watch for traps and doing your best to avoid the natural dangers of the environment. You don't have to walk much more before you decide you would rather just find another clearing and start a fire to cook this rabbit. You see some light up ahead that must mean the trees are opening up.

  Your hunger gets the better of you and you stumble right out into the open. Right into a goblin village. Their small huts are like half-sized versions of an orc village and the goblins are gathered around the charcoals of a communal cook pit. Their red eyes seem to glow like the embers of the fire. There are a lot of those eyes looking right at you.

  "Shit," you mutter, frozen in surprise.

  A hugely fat goblin with a lopsided crown of bones on his ugly head lifts a fat finger and jabs it at you.

  "Get human!"

  You turn and flee into the jungle. The goblins gathered around him leap to their feet and run after you. Their yipping language chases you into the darkness.

  It is a short pursuit. A goblin throws a bola that catches you around your ankles. Entangled, your next step sends you crashing into a scratchy brambles that pricks at your skin. The excited goblins surround you, tearing off your loincloth and kicking you as they steal your sword and drag you back towards their village.

  The fat goblin chief waddles over to you and speaks to the goblins in their language. He then gestures to an upright post near the fire.

  "Chain up," he says. "For breeding."

  "Noooooo!" you cry, kicking your legs and trying to resist the goblins.

  The goblin who threw the bola gets first turn. Then the chief and then they all fuck you and you love it. You love them all. Sucking and eagerly fucking back against them.

  The third time you awaken you are standing tied to a post with your wrists overlapping above your head. Your ankles are tied to the post as well, so that your weight rests against these ropes and the most you can move is to bow your body out painfully. Doing so and letting out a soft grunt of discomfort draws the attention of several goblins. They shout out gibberish to their kin and before long you are surrounded by more than a dozen of the greens-skinned runts.

  "Hey, can we talk about this?" you plead. "I mean you no harm. No...ohhhh!"

  One of them reaches out and begins rubbing your naked mound. You cry out and arch against your bonds as the goblin's rough fingers saw at your tender groove. The other goblins chatter excitedly. A much larger
and uglier goblin waddles into view, pushing aside the crowd. He wears a lopsided crown of bones on his head.

  "Me chief!" he announced. "You prisoner. Mating slave. I mate first."

  Goblins in the crowd begin to brandish knives. They saw at the ropes tying you to the pole. You arch against your bonds again and cry out, "Wait! Come on. Be reasonable. You can't do this to me!"

  "Can do!" growls the chief. "We catch you. We keep what catch."

  They clap crude irons on your wrists and one goblin hauls the chain up a stepladder and secures it atop the pole over your head. They turn your so you are facing the pole and more goblins, smacking your round bottom, rubbing your thighs, and squeezing your dangling breasts, begin to shackle your ankles. Between your ankles, they secure a rigid iron bar that forces your feet wide apart. Then they pull the chain running down the pole, lifting you against the pole so your ass is thrust out behind you and your virgin quim is terribly exposed.

  "Don't do this," you moan.

  "Stop!" shouts the goblin king and the others scatter and lift their hands from your body. He continues, addressing his tribe, "Moggo catch girl. Moggo get go first."

  The goblins set a wide stump behind you and a reedy goblin with long arms comes loping triumphantly over to you. He climbs up onto the stump and the other goblins cheer for him. You close your eyes as you feel his hands, rough and bony, caress between your thighs. He is not rough, nor is he gentle. He handles you like you are a pet, rubbing your buttocks and scratching his nails affectionately on your thighs.

  He says something to you in the goblin language. You lift your head and look back and see he has taken off his loincloth and is holding the greenish-pink pinkie finger of a cock in his little fist. It swells as he squeezes it and clear liquid drips form the tip. His eyes are fixed on the furry trench of your cunt.

  He pushes into you without further warning and you let out an involuntary gasp as the hot finger of his cock sinks into your virgin tunnel. He pushes until he is against your ass and draped across it, thrusting just far enough to pierce your maidenhead. The prickling pain of his cock makes you whimper in pain.

  "Please, stop it," you whine, tears stinging your eyes. "Please. Don't do this to me."

  Your body shakes, setting your breasts in motion with each thrust of the little goblin's cock. Your tits swing humiliatingly beneath you and the goblins gathered around the pole begin to laugh and cheers as Moggo slaps against your ass and thrusts his cock in and out of your velvet cunt.

  The worst part of the violation, worse than the knowledge that your precious virginity is gone, worse even than the fear that he'll inseminate you and doom your mind to slavery, is that you begin to enjoy it. The sensation of his little bollocks smacking against your clit and his extremely hot cock stretching you around him is increasingly pleasurable. Little shocks of pleasure jolt from your straining clit and fill you with his growing heat.

  "She move body!" declares the chief. "She like gobbo cock!"

  You moved involuntarily, but even now that you realize you are doing it, you are unable to stop yourself. The goblins cheer as you work your hips and fuck back against Moggo. He squeals with pleasure and pumps in and out of your pussy. His thrusting becomes feverish. You can feel his wee willy tensing up inside you.

  The moment arrives with a sudden, sick twist of doom in your guts. You feel the first spurt of Moggo's goblin spunk as it erupts into your clutching depths. Hot gushes of goblin goo flood your cervix and your clutching cunt squeezes back. The pleasure of your mind's surrender is as potent as any orgasm. You go from self-loathing to total adoration in the span of an instant as your princess pussy is seeded by the lowly goblin.

  "Ohhhhh, yes!" you cry, suddenly enraptured. "Yes, cum inside me! Fill me with your seed, my love!"

  Your affection may be immediately directed at Moggo, but as the goblin pulls his spent spunk-spewer out of your creamed cunt, you find another goblin stepping up behind you. This time it is the bloated chief and he smacks you ass with both hands and thrust his surprisingly large cock into your gooey channel. You let out a moan as his girth stretches you open and abandon yourself to the pleasure of his lewd rutting.

  "Good, human. You fuck tribe good. You fuck whole tribe." He smacks your ass as his cock slurps in and out of your fresh-fucked tunnel and you love it.

  "Yessss!" you cry with total abandon. "Yessss. All of you fuck me. Come closer...let me...put you in my mouth. Ohhh...in my ass."

  The goblins crowd around and find you all too eager to please.

  CONTINUE >

  Encounter Ten - Parley

  You draw your sword as the beast approaches. You know you stand little chance of out-fighting a creature as large and powerful as a manticore, so you hold the sword in a seemingly relaxed posture. The beast roars, shaking you and forcing you back a step.

  "Wait!" you cry. "Wait! I don't want to fight."

  The charging manticore slows and advances more cautiously. His lip seems to twitch uncertainly.

  "Please, believe me, I mean no harm. I just want to get out of this dungeon."

  The manticore's nostrils flare. He lifts his head and sniffs the air like a housecat smelling another in heat. His whiskers twitch and he fixes you with a black-eyed stare.

  "Look, I can...I can get you something to eat...and I can free you once I am out of here."

  The manticore lowers his head as if he is listening to you.

  "That's right," you say, offering your hand for him to smell. "I mean no harm. Friend. Do you know what I'm saying? Friend."

  His warm tongue rasps over your fingers. You can't help but giggle. You are so put at ease by the gesture that you never even see the manticore's tail as it darts in and sticks its barb in your chest. You feel the pain a moment later, a cold dagger that plungers into the muscle and quickly burns through your veins. You stagger back.

  "No," you gasp and look down at the rivulet of blood from your breast. "What...why?"

  Your legs no longer respond. Your hands are barely moving as the sword slips from your immobile fingers. You let out a whimper as you fall back onto the floor of the cave, your butt landing first and your head hitting the stone hard enough to knock the sense out of you.

  You manticore stands above you, his huge and savage head turned down to look at you as his nostrils flare with excitement. His hot, rotten-meat breath blows across your face and you are certain you are about to feel the agony of your throat being ripped out. Instead, the manticore presses its belly down, pinning you to the floor.

  "What is he doing?" you wonder. "Just get it over with. Kill me."

  Something moist and very hot slides between your thighs. Before you are even sure what is happening, the manticore's cock is against your velvet entrance, and you are helpless to stop him from violating your virgin cove. Tears drop from your eyes, but you cannot even scream as the manticore's bestial cock pushes inside you. It snaps your maidenhead and stretches your virgin channel to its limit.

  Above you, the manticore growls loudly, and you feel the rumble in your entire body as it transmits through the oppressive weight of the manticore. The huge magical beast moves its haunches, lifting your ass off the ground as it impales your pussy on its throbbing length. Each stroke skids you slightly across the floor until your head and shoulders catch on a rock outcropping.

  The tears flow freely as the manticore's huge cock prods your womb. You feel like a fool for trying to reason with this creature's savage lust. You burn with fear and shame, visualizing the sight of your helpless body being fucked by the creature as if you are observing it from afar.

  The detachment does not alleviate the pain. It seems as if a fire is burning in your loins and the growling manticore ruts faster and harder into your helpless body. It feels as if its huge cock is going to split you to pieces and the foul musk of its body smothers you.

  "Rooooooooaaaarrrr!"

  The primal roar of the manticore tears the breath form your lungs. Its huge cock throbs inside you an
d you feel a sharp pain as if its tip is somehow latching against the opening of your womb. It pumps a thick torrent of its seed straight into your virgin cove. Its frothing fuckcream overloads your channel and spills down your ass to splatter on the floor of the cave.

  The manticore is still spunking your fuckhole full of its seed when the magic of the dungeon overwhelms your mind. The pain becomes pleasure and your bottomless fear becomes love. If you could move your limbs, you would throw your arms above your lover.

  Your mate. You adore him, beastly, barbed cock and all, and you hope your human body can birth him a litter.

  CONTINUE >

  Special Encounter - Embrace the goblin and admit your urges

  You take a deep breath that shakes in your chest as you look at the goblin by the firelight. The warmth in your body, concentrated between your supple thighs, is not dissipating.

  "Yalak, come here," you say, your voice hoarse with sudden emotion. "Lie down beside me."

  The goblin looks at you curiously. You are not certain if he can see your lust, but he flares his nostrils and a smile spreads across his face. He pads over beside you and stretches out on his side on the fire-warmed stone.

  "What is it, pretty?" He toys with his loincloth as he asks the question. "You need company?"

  "Something like that," you say and draw the goblin into your arms.

  He does not resist as you pull his sinewy body against you and mash him against the softness of your breasts. You lean in and close your eyes and plant a kiss on Yalak's mouth. His thin lips part and his long, nimble tongue flicks against yours. The goblin shifts in your embrace and you feel the prodding hardness beneath his loincloth. You let your hand rest against it and give him a testing squeeze.

  "Shank is hard for you," rasps the goblin.

  "Quim is wet for you," you reply and pull his bony hand between your thighs. His beady eyes widen to almost human proportions as he feels the dew atop your blond-furred groove. You thrust yourself against his fingers, biting your lower lip and moaning as you force your clit against his callused touch.