"Please," you manage.
"Please, what? Fuck harder? Okay, good."
He pounds his dick into your aching dirt pipe. You howl with the pain of it, stretched and violated beyond all comfort. Despite the pain, you feel an inner throb of warmth, a sick pleasure derived from the bestial violation of your ass. Lobok seems to sense your growing pleasure. He releases the weight on the back of your neck and slips a hand around your thigh to play his rough fingers against your pussy.
"Wet." He grunts, thrusting into your ass with shallow, rough strokes. "You like cock for ass."
"N...no," you moan.
He laughs and fucks you harder, working his cock in and out of your aching ring as his fingers rub at your clit. The pleasure become undeniable. The pain recedes. Each time this savage brute thrusts into you and strokes his fingers against your clit, you are driven closer to the brink.
"Squeeze tight," he groans into your ear. "Squeeze seed from shank."
His cock swells and throbs deep inside your ass. Your stretched ring squeezes around his shaft. His balls, tight and hard as stones, mash against the hot cleft of your cheeks. A spike of pleasure shoots through you from your straining clit.
"Yes!" you gasp.
"Yessssss!" growls the orc.
His cock throbs back against your squeezing hole. As pleasure pounds in a tide through your entire body, you feel the sudden heat of the orc's cum pumping deep into your ass. His big, thick load melts into your body, warming you as waves of pleasure ripple from your nipples pressing against the cold stone to your clit and to your violated, cream-stuffed ass.
He pulls out slowly, finally leaving you with a lewd pop and a gush of his trapped cum that drips down your thighs. Your stretched asshole aches as it begins to close behind him. His weight lifts and he releases your arms. You sink down to your knees on the stones, still shuddering with aftershocks of orgasm as the orc's foul spunk drips from your tortured ass.
"Done with you," he growls. "Go find sisters before I change mind. Go and try not become food for monsters."
Your ass aches. Tears sting your eyes. You gather your loincloth and sword belt and dress yourself. The orc averts his eyes as you walk past him, snatching a torch from the wall at the last moment.
You depart through the door the orc had guarded. The hallway beyond is a long and winding corridor that gradually begins to degrade. The crumbling stonework gives way to a natural cave tunnel. You travel for what seems a very long time when you come upon a stone entryway that seems to open up into a large, dark chamber. There is no other way forward. You hear a faint clicking sound within.
CONTINUE>
Encounter Fifteen - Bargain With Him
"I don't want to fight you, Bjorn," you say, showing your hands. "But I have to get through there. My sisters are trapped in this dungeon and the only way for me to get them out is to get out myself."
Bjorn shakes his head sadly.
"You'll never make it out of here. That damned wizard knows everything that happens in his dungeon and he won't let you escape."
"I have to try. For my sisters."
"He may punish me for letting you pass," says Bjorn, folding his arms across his broad chest. "No. I won't allow you to go through that door."
"I'll trade something."
"That sword?" He scoffs.
You shake your head and it's your turn to fold your arms across your chest. You place those arms beneath your breasts and lift them enticingly. Trading on your sexuality never would have cared to you a few days ago. Now, it comes naturally.
"Do you know how the magic of the dungeon works?" asks Bjorn.
"I know there are other ways to satisfy a man." You bite your lower lip. "Or beast."
"Your mouth," says Bjorn. "Might satisfy a beast. A wolf."
"You ask me to submit to such a thing? I am not a beast myself."
"I have the mind of a man."
"And the body of a wolf." The thought of sucking the cock of what amounts to a big dog is nauseating. And, damn your sick mind, exciting. You ask, "Is there no alternative with you as a man?"
He strokes his chin and looks you over. He leans to the side and you turn your hip to give him another good look at the curve of your hip and the roundness of your backside.
"Yes," he says. "Your pink rosebud. Give me that, as man and woman, and I will let you pass. It would at least lessen the bite of Madreg's lash when he learns I've let you pass."
A plain offer. Sex with a man. A real human man. With a curse, yes, but in the flesh of a man. You begin to feel warm between your thighs as you look at the handsome Noorman. He has given you two choices, both of them somewhat humiliating, but the choice seems clear.
What do you choose?
Your mouth and the wolf
Your ass and the man
Bad Ending - Mate of the Outcast
Your life with Bjorn Mooncaller is idyllic for a time. He is handsome, tender, and the love of your life. He gathers wood from the forest and builds you a full-sized bed to share. You make love under the moonlight, in the afternoon, in languid, sun-warmed mornings beside the cabin's window. You share your body eagerly and explore the fantasies his unique powers can grant. Whatever form he takes, you are grateful for him.
But you never leave the cabin. You cannot. The pack of werewolves outside honor their treaty with Bjorn, but you are not covered and if you leave the cabin they will capture you for themselves. Sometimes, when Bjorn is outside gathering wood, they come to the window and peer in at you bathing or tending the fire or cutting vegetables.
Your belly grows heavy with your lover's children. "Pups" he calls them, though he assures you that they will be born as human.
"They will be able to shift very early on though, so do not be surprised if a nursing child becomes a nursing wolf." Bjorn strokes the golden hair from your face. "They will love you as their mother no matter what."
Your arms embrace him and your thighs open to him. His cock fills you with his strength and he moves atop you, kissing you and stroking you with his hands as his cock thrusts in and out. As usual, you cum several times around the rigid piston of his cock before he fills you with his seed. You lick and suck him clean and curl beside him in the bed.
Weeks pass. Your breasts swell and you are enormous with Bjorn's pups. You give birth under a full moon, a son and a daughter, both healthy and strong. Bjorn seems disappointed that there are only two. You are overjoyed, nursing them at your milky breasts.
"We can have more," you say. "We'll have dozens more."
"Of course," says Bjorn. "I'll make you some tea while you are feeding them."
Sigur and Katja. Your little blond-haired children. They grow so quickly. They are walking in weeks and able to shift into their wolf forms. Bjorn takes them with him out to hunt and teaches them the ways of the wood.
Six weeks after their birth, you are making a meal for them when there is a sharp cracking sound behind you. The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. You turn around and Madreg is standing there, over your two children, his feet not even touching the ground.
"How beautiful!" he says. "A boy and a girl."
He scoops them up into his arms as you begin to scream. Bjorn is outside, drawing water from the well and he bursts into the room.
"Madreg!" he snarls.
"Well done, wurwulf," chuckles the mad wizard. "These two will make excellent additions to my retinue."
You pick up your sword from where it rests against the wall. Madreg clucks his tongue and his splayed fingers fire a spell that throws you back against the meal you were preparing. Bjorn roars with anger.
"Stop him, Bjorn!" You cry, pushing yourself up. "Don't let him take our children!"
Bjorn shifts into his wolfman form and leaps at Madreg. There is no chance for your beloved. Purple lighting flies from the mad wizard's fingertips and Bjorn is thrown back against the wall, his body burned and smoking. Madreg laughs. That horrible, nasal laugh echoes in your mind as the wizar
d disappears with your children.
Bjorn is dead. You try to revive him. You beg for him to return and you try your healing magic. It's no use. He's burned too badly. You stagger out into the evening light, blinking at being outside for the first time in months.
The pack of werewolves surround you and begin to sniff at you and pull at your clothing. Their intentions are obvious.
It doesn't matter to you anymore. Your false life of happiness is over. Your adventure is at an end.
< START OVER | INDEX
Encounter Sixteen - Try to Cast Sundering of Bones
You force yourself to stare into Madreg's yellow eyes as his huge cock violates your tight sex. He snarls triumphantly. He must think you are surrendering to him. You wrap your legs around his hips, drawing his cock deeper and hug him with one hand. Your hatred fuels your feral smile and the desperate motion of your hips as you take him deeper.
"Your hatred is like steam rising from your body," growls Madreg. "Draw on it, my angry princess. I hate your entire species. Imagine how that fuels the... mmm... thrusting of my cock."
You moan in reply, unable to give words to the hatred you feel for Madreg. He destroyed Tarol, your family, and even Oriodamus. He pins you to the altar with the brute force of his cock, thrusting into you like a heated pillar, violating your body and pressing against your womb. You fuck back against him, not out of desire, but out of a need to cover the truth.
You know Sundering of Bones. You know you can cast it. But it will require great subterfuge. You embrace Madreg tightly, pulling his sunken chest against your breasts, and you splay your fingers behind his back. The spell is long and complex. You know if he catches you speaking it he will punish you in some horrible way. So you hide the words beneath your pleasure. You enunciate each word of the spell, but emphasize the vowels, turning them into moans of ecstasy.
"So tight!" laughs Madreg. "You cannot deny your addiction to my cock! I can feel you clenching around me!"
He tries to kiss you, but you pull your mouth away from his squirming tongue and speak the last few words of the Sundering of Bones.
"I am going to cum," growls Madreg. "It is time to fulfill your destiny, little-- AGK!"
His head snaps back. His arms twists violently in every direction. There is a terrible cracking sound you feel through your body as his bones begin to deform and break free inside his body. Dozens of breaks and dislocations occur in seconds. Bones burst from Madreg's gaunt body, ribcage like the jagged teeth of a crocodile. Black blood pours from his mouth and splatters your breasts.
"Noooo," gurgles Madreg.
His body explodes with a full crack that echoes through the cathedral and silences the organ. You grab his severed cock and yank it out of your slick channel, tossing it down the stairs where it withers and burns. You leap from the altar as the chanters break into a panic. Some drop to their knees and begin to weep, most simply flee from the cathedral.
You feel the power in your body. Oriodamus? Yes, some part of your former tutor survived his horrible death and you gathered it to your own aura in your moment of need. Your powers have grown.
There is a gold-framed door behind the altar. You tear it from its hinges with a gesture. Inside, you find Reemek and several other orcs guarding your sisters. Jacinda, Heidi, and Camilla are bound, gagged, and blindfolded. Good. They won't have to see what you do to the orcs.
It only takes a few seconds. You fling them against walls, smashing their bodies like kindling. Reemek attacks with his jagged sword and you lift him with a spell and launch him through the highest window of the cathedral. Daggers of broken glass rain down on the remaining chanters.
You free your sisters and they hug you firmly.
"Come on," you say. "We're going home."
The way to the surface will be arduous, to be sure, but you have no doubt you will make it out of this dungeon now. As you and your sisters set off for freedom, the cathedral collapses behind you with a roar of fallen stones.
CONTINUE >
Special Encounter - Have a Drink With Yalak and Olaf
You plop down on the stone bench next to Yalak and pat your faithful companion on his knobbly knee.
"I'll have a bit of drink," you call out to Olaf.
The gnome bustles out of the house sloshing a bottle of brandy and clacking three wooden cups together. He hops up onto the bench on your other side, squeezing you between the two of them. He skillfully manages three cups and pouring the brandy. It's sweet and strong and has a fruit smell to it. The alcohol burns your throat as you take a gulp.
"Not bad," you hiss.
"It's fairly bad," laughs Olaf, "but it'll do the trick."
Yalak takes a drink and his face contorts as if he is in agony. He sticks out his long tongue and shakes his head from side to side. He blinks several times before looking at you and Olaf.
"I like. Is good." He holds out his cup. "More."
Olaf tops off your cups and you set a steady pace of drinking and laughing with the gnome and the goblin. You never imagined yourself enjoying a fireside belly-warmer with a couple of half-sized monsters, or at least a gnome and a monster, but this is actually proving quite enjoyable.
"You know, Kirsten," slurs Olaf, well into his cups, "ye remind me a bit of a dancing girl at the Trapper's Inn down in Yarbun. You been there?"
You shake your head, laughing at the thought.
"A dancing girl you say?" You put your hands on top of your head and wiggle your hips a little.
"Oh, aye, a true beauty." He looks you over and smiles, his face as red as a beet. "Not half as beautiful as you, but a beauty. She moves like a serpent and her lips, mmmm, best not say any more on that."
You rather fancy the idea of being a dancing girl. Stripping off your clothes for paying customers. Showing your body to them and driving them wild. But no touching, not unless they had enough coin and you like the way they smelled.
"How did she dance?" you ask, rising from the bench.
"Ohhhh! Dance time!" Yalak claps his hands together.
"Was it like this?" You ask, swinging your hips back and forth and turning in a circle. "Or more like this?"
You rock your hips and roll your abdomen. Your breasts bounce with each undulating motion of your body and your gaze flicks between Olaf and Yalak. Both stare at you, completely mesmerized by your erotic movements. Olaf makes no effort to answer your question.
"Did she take off her clothes?" you ask and you slowly unbuckle your sword belt and let belt and scabbard drop down your slender legs. You lift the belt with a kick of your leg and deposit it safely out of the way. Still unanswered, except by their rapturous stares, you wonder aloud, "All of her clothes?"
You turn your back to them and bend forward, slowly unwinding the knotted ends of your loincloth and tugging so the fabric cinches between your buttocks. You thread the cloth down, tight against your quim, exposing your ass completely and then, leaning forward more, the golden thatch of your cunt between your thighs. You feel yourself with your fingers. Warm and wet. Flushed and breathless with desire.
"You two are awfully quiet," you say turning back to them. You saunter closer, teasing a fingertip against your lip. "Are you just going to stare at me or are we going to have some fun?"
Yalak and Olaf exchange a drunken look and then chorus in perfect unison, "Fun!"
A smile spreads across your lips as you decide what sort of fun you have in mind with these two pint-sized perverts.
What do you do?
Climb on Olaf's lap
Climb on Yalak's lap
Get on your knees
Special Encounter - Try your mouth
You're not really eager to taste this cum that the door spewed all over the hallway, but you need to get the door open. You reason that if your hand did not do the job, then maybe your mouth will.
"Alright," you say, "I'll suck you. But warn me before you do...that."
You jerk your head in the direction of the glistening slick of cum str
etching several feet down the hall. It is still dripping from the flaccid head of the door's cock like a leaky well pump, adding to the puddle beneath your knees.
"I will do my very best to warn you, m'lady," says the door, affecting a solemn tone.
You sigh and heft the flaccid cock with both hands. It is covered with cum and there is no avoiding the steady drip of white from the slit at the end. You run your tongue up the velvety soft cockhead and get a salty smear of the door's spunk in your mouth. You don't let it deter you, sucking the cockhead into your mouth and bathing it in your hot saliva.
"Ohhhhh that's it," groans the door. "Nice and warm."
Your lips tighten and you give him a good, hard sucking before you slip lower on his stiffening shaft and take him to the back of your throat. The door's cock goes hard quickly as your tongue massages his cockhead and you look up at the silly face moaning from the door's surface. As he hardens, you work both hands through the cum on his shaft, stroking him into your mouth.
"Bob your lips on me. Suck it. Suck on it."
Although you are in no mood, you obey the door, sliding your lips up and down on his straining cock. He is quite large, stretching your lips as your softly slurp and moan your own growing lust around him. Almost without thinking, you slip a cum-slicked hand between your thighs and begin to touch yourself. It is absent rubbing at first, but as you bob and slurp, louder and more intently, the intensity of your self-pleasure increases as well.
"Ooooh that's so good!"
The door encourages you and you gladly suck him, wallowing in the raunchy scent of his cum and the taste of his precum on your tongue. Drool spills down your chin as your fingers caress the straining bead of your clit. You thrust against your fingers. Your orgasm is bubbling inside you, ready to rise and explode inside your tensed body.
Princess to Pleasure Slave Adventure: The Dungeon of the Monster Breeder Page 78