Fertile in My Ex-Boyfriend's Dungeon 3

by Amanda Clover

  An Interactive Adventure Level 3

  Featuring Werewolf, Mimic, and Slime

  By Amanda Clover

  @amandasmut

  Cover artwork by Deilan12

  Interior artwork by Walnusstinte

  This book and all its contents are copyright 2019 by Amanda Clover. All rights are reserved and no portions may be reproduced unless for the use of brief quotations for review purposes.

  All characters appearing in this story are over the age of 18. This is a work of parody and any resemblance to real people or situations is coincidental.

  Hold on! This book is not linear!

  Fertile in my Ex-Boyfriend’s Dungeon is an interactive adventure book and is not meant to be read straight through. You are in control of the choices Beatrix will make as she tries to escape from the dungeon. At the end of each section, you will be prompted to make a decision for her. Following the link to continue her story!

  This book contains several different paths that will take Beatrix to a premature end. If she doesn’t make it to the end of the level, you will be able to start over at the beginning or jump back to an earlier encounter.

  Have fun!

  Surprisingly Comfortable

  Nellie’s luscious rump devours the back of her green costume as she ascends the ladder ahead of me. The voluptuous elf’s shapely thighs are creamy white and her rear swings back and forth slightly with each rung she climbs. I’ll admit it. I’m paying so much attention to my companion’s plush rear that when she suddenly disappears over the top of the ladder I think for a second that she has somehow fallen upwards. That jolt of fear is gone a moment later when she leans her head back into the shaft, her blonde hair hanging in her face as she peers down at me.

  “Well? Are you coming up?” She asks.

  “Yeah, sure,” I say, blushing as if she has caught me thinking about her lovely rear. “One second.”

  I clamber up the last few rungs and she helps to pull me out of the vertical shaft and into a room. I blink for a few seconds, taking in my new surroundings. Red-glassed lanterns flutter and glow, casting a warm, reddish light over a room decorated with marble columns, elegant couches, and silky curtains. The environment seems surprisingly comfortable after the dank dungeon we’ve been in so far. Scattered among the finery is what appears to be the debris left by an enthusiastic celebration There are wine bottles, stained napkins, goblets, platters of food, and a few scraps of discarded clothing.

  “Ew,” says Nellie, picking up a crusty-looking pair of lavender panties with a fingertip. She shakes them from her fingers and they flop to the floor. “Do you think this was recent?”

  I inspect one of the trays of food. The fruit is shriveled and covered in black mold and the cheese has turned a shade of fuzzy blue that does not look safe.

  “Weeks ago, I’d guess,” I say. Nellie sniffs at one of the bottles of wine with some liquid sloshing around inside and jerks her head away. She nods in agreement with me, her face furrowed in a look of disgust.

  “I suppose at least we know we are not alone,” she says.

  “Maybe,” I say, still unconvinced. “There are women’s clothes, but maybe the women were victims of some partying monsters. I don’t think we should stay in this room. It might be a trap.”

  “Ah, an unopened bottle!” Nellie says, picking up a corked bottle of wine. “Shall we bring it?”

  “Yeah, that sounds like a good idea,” I say. I look around the room for a way out. Half-concealed by one of the silk curtains is a door of black iron. A brass plaque has been mounted on the door. I approach the door and read the message inscribed on the plaque.

  “It is not more of Zimon’s dreadful poetry, is it?” Nellie asks as she presses against my shoulder to have a look.

  “I’m afraid so,” I murmur. I begin to read the plaque left by our captor aloud, “Level three. The Treasury and the Aqueduct. All things that sparkle you must behold / Beware within or you shall sparkle as gold / A thousand ways to give in to pleasure / A thousand more to become my treasure / Oh, beauties, I wish you the very best luck / Rejoin’d we may be if you do not fuck.”

  “It is the worst one yet,” says Nellie with a shake of her head.

  “He’s punishing us with his verse,” I agree. “But that last part has something to it. Do you think he plans to meet us at the end of this horrible dungeon?”

  “That would seem to be his meaning,” says Nellie.

  “Good,” I say. “I will have to see him again to make him suffer.”

  I threw open the metal door with a creak of protesting humans and stepped through. One of Nellie’s magical orbs materialized ahead of me to illuminate a cave lined with columns similar to those in the room we had left behind. There was a fire pit in the cave, the flames look extinguished, but enough wood remaining that it might be rekindled. There were bones in the ashes, as if some small creatures had been devoured by whoever made the fire.

  “There are bedrolls here,” says Nellie, nudging a pair of bedrolls with her boot. “I have not slept since I was trapped in that cage. Perhaps we should encamp.”

  “There must be something worth eating in this cave,” I say, looking around at the darkness. “I could try to snare it and make us something to eat.”

  “That would be lovely,” says Nelly. “I will kindle the fire. We can have a meal, drink the wine, and, well, enjoy each other.”

  Her cheeks redden and I smile. Whatever misgiving I might have held about becoming intimate with the elf were forgotten after surviving the second level of Zimon’s dungeon with her by my side. She is beautiful, cleverer than she at first seemed, and a trustworthy companion. I watch Nellie get down on her hands and knees beside the firepit, her fingers splaying as she whispers the components of a spell and begins to conjure fire. Her magic is weakened by the curse over the dungeon and it is barely enough for her to summon a spark. She shifts her hips and I admire her luscious rear for a moment longer, desire beginning to ache between my thighs.

  “I will see what I can catch,” I say, snapping my attention away from her.

  “Please, Beatrix, do not be gone too long,” she says. “I do not want to be alone in this place.”

  There is something pleading in her tone that makes me like her and desire her more. Like she cannot stand to be apart from me. I shake my head at these unbidden desires, draw my sword, and set off into the dark cave in search of a meal.

  It takes me considerable time and exhausting effort, but I chase the skittering sounds I hear in the dark and managed to run down a plump, hairless pink creature like a cross between a rat and a pig. It tries to bite me when I catch it by its tail. Before it can snap its teeth into my arm, I thump its head with the pommel of my sword. A second blow stops the creature moving. I gut it like my father taught me to do with summer squirrels and carry it back to the inviting glow of the fire that Nellie has made in the firepit.

  “Oh, you found something,” she exclaims with delight. She is not quite so delighted when she sees the carcass of the ugly little creature. “Ew. I am not so certain about that, Beatrix. Perhaps we should not eat its flesh.”

  “It bled red,” I reply with a shrug.

  I fashion a spit out of some pieces of blackened wood from the fire and impale the lump of meat. I begin to turn the meat over the fire. Nellie watches me, her pretty face wrinkled with disgust. But soon the meat begins to roast. The savory scent fills the air and Nellie edges closer to the fire.

  “Perhaps I will eat a bite or two,” she says, crouching beside me. She rests a delicate hand on my shoulder and watches as I turn the spit.

  “You get the wine open,” I say, drawing my sword. “I’ll ca
rve up this little beast.”

  We stuff steaming, salty hunks of meat into our mouths and wash each bite down with the wine. I do not recognize the language on the bottle’s paper label, but the wine is quite good. Before long, we are both stuffed and drunk. We lean against each other, propped up by the bedrolls we discovered by the firepit.

  “Getting drunk in a dungeon is very, very, very stupid,” I say, flapping the last greasy drumstick of meat.

  “It does seem foolish,” agrees Nellie. “I keep looking out at those columns and thinking I see some sort of monster hiding behind them. Why are there columns in a cave other than to, mmmm, hide lurking monsters?”

  “Supporting things?” I suggest.

  “In a cave?” Nellie sloshes back her wine, dribbling a bit down her chin. “Maybe it is decoration. Or the chamber is only partially built.”

  “Do you think Zimon is dreaming these places up to torture us? Or do you think he’s grabbing places from all over the world and sticking them together?”

  “Perhaps they are not physically connected,” says Nellie. “There is powerful magic at work. Perhaps he bends reality to connect faraway places so that we are moving great distances when we move between levels of his dungeon.”

  “Mmmmmmm,” I lean my head back. “I think I’m too drunk to think about that.”

  We burst out laughing together at the realization that we are both far too drunk to be doing any adventuring. She leans against me, somehow smelling sweet despite all we have been through together. Her eyes meet mine. Hers are big and blue and full of feeling. She’s touching my cheek. Why is she doing that?

  “I am so fortunate you found me, Beatrix,” she says. “Zimon always mocked me. He said I was… I was a silly girl. He made me do things that I did not always enjoy.”

  “That sounds like Zimon. And you’re not a silly girl. I’m glad I found you too, Nellie,” I reply, my voice soft and raspy. I meet her heavy gaze and I feel a stirring in my core. I know we are drunk and in a dangerous place, but I cannot help my desires.

  What should I do?

  Tell Nellie to get some sleep

  Give Nellie a kiss

  Resist the werewolf

  Am I crazy? I’m getting all hot and bothered for a big, hairy werewolf. I need to break out of Benjin’s beastly spell before I pull down my trousers and offer this drooling monster a go at me. I see that same flushed look in Nellie’s face. She’s thinking about it too.

  I grab her hand and say, “We have to get out of this cabin.”

  “Are you certain? Perhaps we should stay and offer the werewolf—”

  “Listen to yourself!” I cry, pulling Nellie towards the door. “You are feeling unnatural lust. We cannot succumb to this beast’s need to mate.”

  “Yes, of course,” she says, the faraway look in her eyes dissipating. “We have to get out.”

  “No! Please! Do not go!” Benjin says, the words thick on his inhuman lips. He chases us as we back out of his cabin and into the chill air of the false night. His breath steams in great gusts and his eyes seem to glow in the moonlight. His lips curl back and he bares his sharp teeth in a lupine snarl. “No need to fight! I do not want to hurt! Give me your bodies!”

  “Our bodies?” Nellie gasps, clutching a fearful hand against her green bodice.

  “Stay back!” I warn the werewolf, drawing my sword.

  “Is not too late,” he growls, his voice barely comprehensible. “No blood yet. Still peace. Still pleasure. Give to me. I will mate!”

  His cock juts obscenely from his sheath, swinging with each step he takes as he forces us back from the cabin. The stream is behind us. The woods beyond that. We might be able to run, but I have doubts we would ever elude this beast. Perhaps a fight is what it will take. Or perhaps he could still see reason.

  “What are we going to do, Beatrix?” Nellie cries, clinging to my shoulder and pressing her soft breasts against my back. “He is not going to stop coming!”

  The werewolf stalks towards us, his reddish-pink cock bouncing as he comes towards us, panting, his breath steaming. His eyes are wild with his bestial lust.

  What should I do?

  Guard against the werewolf

  Use a Finesse Attack

  Use a Power Attack

  Talk to the werewolf

  Flee from the werewolf

  Tell Nellie to use her magic

  Surrender meekly

  Surrender eagerly

  Offer my ass to the werewolf

  One glance at the werewolf’s hot, throbbing red cock is enough to make up my mind. I know what Nellie is doing by suggesting she give up her ass. She wants that big beastly cock shoved up her fat rear. While my tight little peachy ass deserves that big monster dick!

  “I’ll do it,” I say, stepping in front of Nellie.

  “What will you do?” Benjin growls, sniffing the air warily.

  I answer him by unbuckling my sword belt and letting it drop down my long legs. His gaze follows the heavy sword as it thumps to the grass. I turn away from him with a deliberate swing of my hips. I unbutton my trousers and slide them, along with my panties, down from my firm, round ass. I hear a deep growl as I bare my creamy ass and my dark-thatched cunt to him.

  “You will mate with me?” Benjin asks as he saunters closer to me.

  “You can have this,” I say, reaching back and spreading my ass for him. “Be gentle.”

  “Werewolves are not gentle,” he says and lunges at me. He goes to his reversed knees as he grabs me around my slender waist. I cry out in surprise; certain he is about to take a bite out of me. Instead, Benjin pulls my ass against his cool lupine nose and breathes hotly into the crack of my ass. I whimper and squirm as he holds me in his arms, snuffling and sniffing at my tight asshole. It’s embarrassing, but I stop worrying about that the moment he lashes my sensitive little pucker with his hot, flexible tongue.

  “Ohhhhh, that’s a good boy,” I say. “Less growling, more licking.”

  He does both, snarling at me even as he’s giving my tight pucker a tongue bath. I arch and press my rear against his snout, savoring the hot caress of his tongue as I reach a hand between my thighs and begin to massage my clit. Benjin’s eager licking stirs the pleasure in my core and leaves me panting and gasping steaming breaths into the night air.

  I look back at him over my shoulder. If it weren’t for his clawed hands, it might look like a real wolf had his nose buried in my crack. His brown eyes stare at me intently over the mounds of my rear as he laps at my clenching hole.

  He shifts behind me, his tongue lifting from my crack as he rises on his haunches. I quickly shift my hand to cover my pussy. I must make sure he only puts that huge cock where it belongs. I feel his blunt tip bumping against my thighs, smearing precum on my fingers, and finally sliding over the crack of my ass and my tight, spit-wet asshole.

  “Nnnnnn, there it is, big boy,” I moan, wiggling my hips for his benefit. “Put it in nice and slow.”

  He snarls in reply, his cockhead catching against the wet divot of my hole. He thrusts into me, straining my clenched hole, pushing harder, and forcing his way inside me. I wail in pain and shock as his hot length slides into my ass. He thrusts so deep that his furry balls mash against my hand covering my pussy.

  “Please, Mr. Werewolf, do not hurt her,” cries Nellie.

  “It will not hurt,” growls Benjin. “She just needs to relax.”

  Easier said than done as he grabs my slender waist with both hands and start pummeling my ass with his huge cock. It feels like it’s going to poke me in my lungs each time he thrusts deep inside me and like he is going to pull me inside out each time he pulls back. It doesn’t help that he is humping me like he is trying to win a race. His cock prods deep, the only mercy that his precum is so plentiful it lubes up his thrusting hardness.

  “Oh, gods, that is big,” I pant, still not able to catch my breath.

  “The better to pound your pale flesh with,” snarls the werewolf, seeming t
o double his furious thrusting.

  He is slamming my stretched hole with his hot cock, his growls growing louder and more savage, when I begin to feel something swelling up against my stuffed ring. His cock is getting bigger! I’m already as full as I can get with his cock! His thrusts press this new bulge insistently at my already-stuffed hole.

  “No! I can’t handle it!” I moan. I feel so much dirtier as I realize that bulge is his knot. I guess a werewolf has a lot more in common with an actual wolf than I realized. And I’m on the receiving end.

  “You will take it!” Benjin snarls with animal fur, slamming into my ass even harder. It forces his knot past my ring. I feel certain I will split open, but I take his growing bulge and his knot plugs my ass. The moment the werewolf’s throbbing knot slips past my pucker, Benjin throws back his head and howls with ecstasy.

  “Oh… oh gods! Ohhhhh yes!” I cry, feeling his huge cock jerking and pumping inside me. He’s shooting his massive werewolf load deep into my ass, his thick cum slicking his cock and stuffing me with his warm seed. It’s enough to drive me over the edge. I desperately rub my clit, my ass clutching at his pumping cock, milking out spurt after spurt of his cum.

  He collapses atop me, panting heavily and licking at my neck and ear as I continue cumming. The feel of my ass squeezing against his huge knot is so strange, dirty, and exciting. It finally makes my arm give out and my face falls to the grass, my ass still up and his knot still buried inside me.

  “Good cum slut,” he growls in my ear, nipping at it. “If you give me time to recover, I will fill your pussy with cum too.”

  “Ohhhhh,” I whimper, practically ready to give up my cunt to him as aftershocks ripple through my body.

  His weight lifts and his huge knot tugs at my anus. It pulls and pulls, buried inside me, not quite ready to pop free. By force of will, I relax my muscles and his huge knot slips free. I gasp, feeling a huge quantity of werewolf spunk bubbling out of my raw ring and dripping down my cunt. There’s so much of it pouring out of me that it’s embarrassing. I know Nellie can see it. I don’t want to meet her lusty gaze.