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

by Amanda Clover

  "Please, my dear," she purrs. "I want no trouble."

  "You're a demoness," you say, almost ashamed to be leveling such an accusation against such beauty.

  "Yes, that is true. But I don't want to hurt you, Kirsten. I want to help you." Ashara beckons you with a finger. "Madreg has summoned me and imprisoned me here as well. We both desire our freedom. But make your next move very carefully, princess. I am friendly now, but I do not forgive."

  You want to fall to your knees and offer this woman whatever she wants. That terrifies you.

  What do you do?

  WAIT

  PARLEY

  ATTACK

  MAGIC

  SURRENDER

  Epilogue - The Great Wizardess of Tarol

  It pains you to send your sisters away, but it makes sense. Without your family's fortune, without the castle and the strength of your banners, you must forge a new meaning to the name Sungbaard. You refuse to waste away in the Lakelands, waiting for some duke or baron to come along and wear you like jewelry on his arm and a gilded sleeve for his cock. Strength will come from within. Magic will forge your family's name anew.

  "I will remain here," you say, bowing your head deferentially. "Master Oriodamus."

  "A wise choice!" He claps his hand on your shoulder. "Wise indeed. Of course, your sisters may stay for a time. Enjoy their company before they must go."

  You spend four days with your sisters in the tower. In a way, those days are as magical as your surroundings. Oriodamus has a lovely sailboat and you sail the pleasant seas. You walk the shores below the tower and strip off your clothes and swim in the crystal blue waters with your sisters. Oriodamus gives you time and space, and only intrudes to offer meals or magical amusements.

  Jacinda seems ready to leave by the fifth day. Camilla is convinced later that afternoon. Although there is comfort and safety in the tower, they want to go home. Only Heidi clings to you.

  "I don't want to go back," she says. "It's scary."

  "It won't be Tarol," you say, holding her tight. "The Lakelands. Kinsingtown maybe. You will be happy there, sweet sister. You will make new friends. Maybe find a prince to marry you."

  She smiles sadly. You tell her you will visit when you can. That night, they go. You watch as Oriodamus sends them away. He returns minutes later, the night air seeming changed as he looks at you across the tower's platform.

  "Now your real education begins," he says.

  The first lesson he teaches you is humility. You spend the next few weeks performing menial tasks for Oriodamus and familiarizing yourself with the tower that the spell sage calls his "perch." It is no ordinary tower. There are cabinets that open into pantries and closets far too large to be real, stairs that go nowhere and emerge somewhere else in the tower, cages containing strange creatures, a three-story library with an overstuffed reading chair that floats through the air, stone and brass golems in various states of completion, and a locked vault containing artifacts Oriodamus has collected far and wide.

  Most of all, you become acquainted with the kitchen. In its vast ovens, you prepare gourmet meals for Oriodamus to the best of your ability. He is always dissatisfied and sometimes spits out the food you give him and refuses to eat. There are no more spankings, true, but there are cold stares and demeaning chores.

  After four weeks of this, Oriodamus calls you into one of several studies and announces that it is time to begin learning magic.

  "Your first lesson," he explains, "is to bathe for me."

  He gestures to a huge brass tub that was not in the room hours earlier. When you hesitate, he snaps his fingers loud enough to be a firework. You immediately begin to undress, stripping off the simple servant's gown and your plain underclothes. You cover your breasts with one arm and your golden mound with your hand. Oriodamus smiles at your nudity and gestures to the tub.

  "Proceed," he commands.

  "Yes, Master Oriodamus." You bow your head and shuffle to the tub. The water nearly fills the tub to the brim and is steaming hot. You hiss as you dip in a toe. When you see him watching impatiently you slip into the tub. At least the hot water covers your bare breasts. Some of the water sloshes over the sides.

  You pick up the sponge placed on the rim of the tub and the lump of soap. You begin to lather your body. Oriodamus observes your glistening breasts and your hands stroking over them, brushing across your nipples, and deeper beneath the water. You look at the wizard with a hint of lust in your eyes. Is this what he wants? Your fingers slide down your flat belly. So be it, you decide. It has been so long since you've been touched. You crave it and you will do it right here in front of the old goat.

  Just as your fingers are about to make contact with your submerged pussy, you feel something else touch you. It seems to push apart your legs with hands on your inner thighs. You let out a gasp as a tongue of water current caresses your slit and strokes over your clit. You realize something is amiss and you stand up, sloshing more water and trying to cover yourself.

  "Something is..."

  Your words trail off as a feminine figure rises from the water beside you. Not, not from the water, she is the water. Contoured and appearing as a voluptuous woman, with a foaming spray of white soap suds gathered between your liquid thighs.

  "An elemental," you gasp.

  The elemental pulls you into a warm embrace, her arms solid and yet engulfing and her breasts swallowing up yours. You are touched by her and yet inside her. Fingers of water push into your quim and flow into your tender ass. Water pressure squeeze, shapes and caresses your breasts.

  "Your body itself is magic," says Oriodamus, walking closer as you are molested by the elemental. "You can control this creation if you can control your aura."

  But there is no controlling your aura as the elemental assaults your body with vigorous thrusts of liquid fingers. The waters pushes deep and flows inside you, scouring your cunt and ass and thrusting into you like exquisite cocks. You are lifted up on the column of water, your body bouncing and slapping helplessly against the elemental. A feminine face touches yours and you open your mouth for a kiss that is hot and bitter with the dissolved soap.

  "Mmmmmmmm!" you cry, muffled by the water. Your orgasm builds quickly. You bounce faster and harder, splashing water out of the tub, embracing and caressing the semisolid back of the elemental. Your muffled cry becomes a wail that echoes through the room. "I'm cumming! Master, I'm cumming!"

  Magic flares around you as the water gushes deep into your bowels and womb, washing you from the inside. Your contractions squeeze and burst the water. Light spears from your heaving breasts and seems to dissolve the elemental. In a last explosion of water, the creature of pure magic is gone, and you sink back into the tub exhausted.

  "Hmmmm," says Oriodamus and he turns on his heel and leaves the study.

  The very next night, Oriodamus comes to your bed. You rub away the sleep from your eyes as he stands over you in the moonlight.

  "I am lonely," he explains. "And I want to sleep in your bed and hold your body against mine."

  "Is this a lesson, master?" You ask, turning onto your side and noticing the outline of his body backlit through the fabric of his sleep shirt.

  "No lesson. This is simply a lonely old man at the doorway of a beautiful woman."

  You consider his words and think about what you were ready to do for him in the heat of the bathtub. You lock eyes with him and your hand finds the edge of the blanket. You pull it away from your body. The nightgown clings to your body, exposing the shape of your hip and the settling of your breasts. Your erect nipples jut beneath the silky fabric. Oriodamus takes in the sight of you and wets his lips.

  You roll onto your back and run your hands down to the hem of your nightgown. You gather up the fabric and raise the gown up your legs, over your thighs and expose that you are wearing nothing beneath the gown. You pull it over your head and lie naked before your master.

  "Come to bed then," you say. "Keep me warm."

  Th
at first night, it is intense and explosive. You both have something to prove. His elderly frame is virile, his cock rising quickly and his hungry mouth devouring your body. You prove your eagerness as well as your skill. Magic is incorporated seamless into the bed, to stroke, and lick and fuck when other parts of you are busy. You exhaust yourself in his arms. He fills you again and again until you feel like your bodies are permanently joined by the sheer liquid filthiness of the sex.

  So your education continues. Days in hard schooling and nights in your bed or his. Sometimes on the platform. And in the kitchen. Also on the sailboat. And once with one of the golems, though the less said about that the better.

  Oriodamus commands you with authority when you are dressed and is very gentle and almost passive when you are together in bed. It emboldens you and you become more sexually assertive. His caress, his tongue and fingers, his wild, bull-like cock, teach you to control your body's inherent magic. You use this knowledge to your advantage in and out of the bed.

  "Gods, you're so big tonight," you cry, riding atop him, your breasts heaving up and down and the whole bed shaking beneath you. Oriodamus cradles your shapely bottom and helps guide you up and down on his swollen cockmeat. You know he is about to explode. You want to taste it, but when you try to rise, he pulls you back down onto his cock with surprising vehemence. So hard that your ass slaps loudly onto his hips as his cock impales you.

  "Not tonight," he growls.

  A smile spreads across your lips. His forcefulness heightens your lust and you resume riding his huge cock, swinging your hips and bouncing on him. Your slick pussy swallows his length with wet sounds. You arch your back, whining his name as an orgasm ripples through you. Magic hands grasp your hips, moving you atop your master as he reaches his real hands up to your breasts to roughly squeeze them.

  "Oh, Kirsten," cries Oriodamus. "You are so beautiful. So... ahhhhh!"

  He slams his cock into your velvet tunnel and explodes, firing warm gushes of his seed into your depths. The sensation of his cum filling you and lubricating your ride atop his cock prolongs and intensifies your orgasm.

  Master Oriodamus has cum in you before, and you know he is infertile in his advanced age, but this time feels different. This time there is a hint that something has changed. Gasping, draining and milking his cock, you finally collapse forward onto him, your sweaty tits mashed against his slender chest. You kiss him on the lips and share your tongue with him, both of you shuddering with aftershocks.

  "I love you, master," you whisper.

  You've never said anything of the sort to him before. He chuckles and pulls you tightly against him.

  "And you as well, my sweet," he whispers in your ear.

  You sleep together in his bed and awaken feeling different. Not pregnant, but different. As if his seed and your confession of love have somehow changed you. Oriodamus is missing from the bed. You pull on your nightgown and walk into the parlor. He greets you with an illusory version of himself. Not an uncommon thing when he is busy with another task.

  "Good morning, my sweet," says the spectral duplicate. "Come with me to the study. I have something for you."

  Still rubbing sleep from your eyes, you pad after the illusory Oriodamus and into one of his more formal studies. Morning light pours through slanted windows, filling the room with golden radiance and perfectly illuminating a lovely corseted robe with embroidered details and jeweled embellishments. It is lavender and perfectly fitted for you.

  "Try it on," says the illusion.

  When you dress in the robe it cinches itself tightly around you, lifting your breasts and slimming your already slender waist. The fit is perfect. The style immaculate and regal. Now that you are wearing it, you notice that it is also very useful, covered in dozens of hidden pockets and complete with a hip sheath of sorts for your spellbook.

  "You look so beautiful," says the illusion. "You are ready. It has been almost two years since you joined me here. You've hardly visited your sisters. It is time for you to go to them, alone."

  "Master," you cry in surprise. "I'm not ready--"

  "You are ready," says the illusion. "I've passed some of my aura onto you. Now you have the power to eclipse me in time."

  "Master!" you cry. That must be the source of your vigor. If he passed some of his aura to you - no easy task - during your lovemaking then he must have made up his mind to leave the physical world. You plead with the illusion, "Don't go, please."

  "My sweet, I am already gone," says the illusion. It fades away from sight, leaving you horribly alone in the tower. You search for him and hope for his return. You cry. You curse his name. But he does not return.

  The following morning, you gather mementos from the tower and a few of the ancient texts you have yet to study, and you step out onto the platform. The air is warm. The sky is darkened by rain clouds in the distance. You can see the sky weeping into the ocean near the horizon.

  "Goodbye, Oriodamus," you say to the heavens and cast the teleportation spell.

  You will find your sisters and restore your sisters to power in the ruined kingdom of Tarol. You will forge a new name for your family and cleanse the last remnants of Madreg's army. These are your duties. Then you will travel the world and learn the ways of the most powerful and ancient magics. It will be an epic adventure.

  For another time.

  < START OVER | INDEX

  Encounter Fifteen - Little Red Riding Hood

  You emerge into a clearing beneath a glorious night sky. Looking up at those stars, there is something unfamiliar about them, and you wonder if you have been moved to a distant location by the mind-bending passages of the maze. It does not matter at the moment. You are nearly crying with relief at being out in the open. There are no walls hemming you in as if you are in a courtyard. You seem to be free! And there is a huge forest ahead of you.

  But doubts linger. You cannot see the walls of your nightmarish prison, but you feel them still, somehow enclosing this open space. There is no clear path through the woods, so you simply set off into them and hope you might find your way out again.

  You are a skilled rider, a swordswoman, and a fairly powerful magic user. But you are not a navigator and you soon become lost in the darkness of the woods. It feels as if you are going in circles. Worse, the strange animal sounds you hear in this primeval forest are driving you towards panic. You start to hurry and hurrying through the darkness inevitably leads to a fall. Your ankle is twisted as you go down. For a moment, you think it has broken, but it is only sore. You sit up and listen to your breathing and the sinister sounds of the woods.

  "Awwwoooooooooooooooo!"

  The cry of the wolf pierces the night. Your breath catches in your throat. The wolf howls again, slightly closer. You pull yourself up on the trunk of a tree and begin to move again through the darkness. The howling is answered by others. Wolves are closing in all around you.

  You begin to run, branches scratching at your body as you move desperately through the dark forest. The wolves are closing in on you now. They are making a terrible sound, crashing through the trees. They must be enormous animals.

  You cross through a cold stream, like ice against your feet, and burst from the trees and into a clearing. A small cabin sits in the center of this clearing. Light glows faintly from inside the cabin. Smoke from its chimney smears the night sky. You hear the wolves, almost upon you now. The cabin is so close and yet just far enough that you are afraid you will not make it if you take off running.

  Should you try to reach the cabin? Or should you turn and face the wolves in the open? Your heart hammers wildly in your chest. Each second wasted deciding is another second the wolves draw closer. The ring of the succubus throbs gently in your bellybutton, serving as a reminder that Ashara might be able to come to your aid whichever path you choose.

  What do you do?

  Turn and confront the wolves

  Keep running for the cabin

  Special Encounter - The Crossroads
<
br />   The glowing worm Yalak plucked for you makes an effective lantern as you enter the musty tunnel. The door closes with a loud thud behind you and an unseen mechanism seals it shut. There is no going back and you can see how this distresses Yalak.

  "There other ways," he says as if reassuring himself.

  "We'll find them," you say and start down the tunnel.

  The musty stone gives way to tiles and an actual hallway. A brazier of blue flame burns in the center of an open chamber. There does not seem to be a monster here and Yalak nods that he sees nothing either. The tiled walls are covered in graffiti in various languages. Much of it carved, some of it written in blood.

  You shine the light over the words and see that some are very old, faded almost to nothing, while others seem fresh.

  "Corinthia Druselme," you read aloud. "899. I am alive. I will find you, Vikktor."

  You move the light to another.

  "I cannot take it any longer. This is hell!" reads an unsigned message.

  Names and phrases of desperation, messages of devotion and pleas to gods, some of which you have never even heard of. These are the women who have been imprisoned in this dungeon. How many souls? How many centuries? The scale of the graffiti is making you feel dizzy and then your light stops on a bloody scrawl that freezes you cold.

  "I am Princess Camilla Sungbaard," you read your sister's name. "I have been imprisoned here by a sorcerer called Madreg. I will escape and I will kill him for my family."

  You smile as tears drop from your eyes. Camilla always was as strong headed as you. She might have been bound for a life as a proper queen in some faraway land, but she could have made a knight. You run your fingers over the words she scrawled on the wall. Your lip trembles.

  "My sister," you say. "She was here."

  Yalak reaches up and rests his hand on your arm.

  "Two doors says the goblin," pointing to two iron doors on opposite sides of the chamber.