Fertile in My Ex-Boyfriend's Dungeon 3

by Amanda Clover

  “NNNNNNNN!” I cry, my tongue still buried in Nellie’s naughty hole.

  “Yessss!” My elf friend cries.

  The werewolf pumps me completely full of his cum, his knot plugged tight into my cunt even after the last jerks of his orgasm subside. He lays atop my back, panting heavily in my ear, his breath steaming past my face. I finally manage to slide my tongue out of Nellie’s ass and lift my face from her soft cheeks.

  “Oh, my love,” I moan, reaching one hand up to stroke the werewolf’s furry head. “Thank you for filling me with your pups.”

  “I could not resist,” growls the werewolf.

  “What’s going on back there?” Nellie asks.

  Benjin shifts atop me, his huge knot pulling at my stretched cuntlips and finally popping free. I feel his huge load trickling out of my pussy. Nellie looks back and see Benjin licking my face and me cooing with happiness.

  “Oh, no, Beatrix, what have you done?” She cries.

  Benjin growls at her.

  “Don’t worry, Nellie,” I laugh. “I think you’re next.”

  She whimpers with realization as the werewolf and his red, twitching cock crawl towards her big ass. I can hardly wait to watch her join the pack. We’ll both be bred by the werewolf.

  CONTINUE >

  Embrace Nellie and kiss her

  “Please,” moans Nellie, reaching up for me. I let her hand touch mine, our fingers intertwining, and she pulls me down with her onto the ground. She kisses me hungrily, smacking wet, hot kisses on my shoulder, neck, and up to my ear. Her tongue is a wet serpent in my ear. She’s panting with need. “Fuck me, Beatrix. Please. Fuck meeee.”

  “Alright, Nellie,” I whisper. “I’ll give you what you want.”

  I turn to her lips, meeting them with mine, our tongues grappling as the residue of slime soaks into my blouse and smears my arms. She reeks of the sweet smell of the inside of the mimic. It is an addicting scent, sweet and musky, and I pull her slimy breasts against me. The slime saturates my top begins to tingle into my flesh. The mimic might be dead, but its secretions have the same intoxicating properties. I feel hotter by the moment and it’s not just Nellie’s hand sliding under my blouse to pinch and play with my nipples.

  “Gods,” I moan against her lips. “This is stupid. That thing might not really be dead.”

  “I do not care,” gasps Nellie. “Please, I will die without it. I will die if you do not fuck me.”

  “Hands and knees,” I say, the flush in my body spreading to my face. My heart is pounding and my hips are moving on their own. I feel feverish with lust. Nellie, gasping, trembling, rolls onto her hands and knees, arching her back and offering up her slime-soaked ass and her glistening cunt. I smack her plush rear, my hand leaving and red mark and the impact making her plump cheeks wobble.

  I rub two fingers against Nellie’s delicate divot, my slime-coated fingers pushing easily into her ass. She croons with pleasure, her head jerking up as I push two digits into her hole to the last knuckle. I thrusts three fingers from my other hand into Nellie’s sopping cunt. Her inner walls squeezing against my fingers and she pushes back against my hands.

  “OOOOooooooohhh! Fuck meeeee!” She whines, rolling her hips and fucking my fingers with both holes.

  I lean over her, kissing her back and her shoulder. Tonguing her long, pointed ear. Whispering to her, “You’re my elf slut, aren’t you?”

  I can hardy believe I just said something like that, but the words escaped my lips without thinking. I’m in the same frenzy as Nellie now. I’m drunk on the mimic’s venom.

  “Yesssss. I’m your slut!” She throws her jiggling ass back against my fingers, both holes plugged with my thrusting digits. Her pussy squeezing against my touch and her ass clenches so tight it feels like she’s trying to cut off my fingers. Her inner muscles tighten with the rhythm of her ecstasy as she cums for me. She rides back, spasming again and again, howling with her pleasure until she slumps forward onto the slimy floor.

  It’s not enough. We both need more and I collapse onto the floor with her, pulling off my clothes so that I can rub y naked body against Nellie. Our nipples rub together. Her soft tits smothering my pert breasts. My fingers are between her legs and hers are between mine, strumming and pumping, stoking our mutual heat. Our kiss is more of a mutual gasp. Our tongues are wild and drunk.

  She rolls me onto my back and nuzzles her face between my legs. Her tongue drives me wilder than her fingers, sending that ecstasy crackling through my body as I play with my sensitive nipples and watch her lick. She looks up at me with those big blue eyes, my legs over her shoulders, her tongue licking from my clit to my clenching ass.

  “Ahhhhh! Yessss! Gods, yes!” I cry, lifting my hips off the floor and fucking against her face. Her tongue slides all over my clit. Her fingers push back inside my pussy just as I reach my peak. I howl and cling to her head with one hand, bucking hard and riding my pussy against her tongue. My climax is prolonged by her slipping a finger into my ass, fucking me with both and lashing my clit with her tongue.

  Finally, my clit becomes too sensitive, and I pull her face up from between my thighs. I give her a breathless, sloppy kiss, tasting my nectar as we swap it between our tongues.

  “More,” she moans hotly against my lips. “I need more.”

  “I’ll give you more,” I promise, pushing her back again.

  She holds the backs of her knees, her feet up in the air as she exposes the ripe fruit of her cunt and the slimy wet divot of her anus. I devour them both, tongue probing and swirling, dancing over her clit before plunging into her crack to delve into her ass. Back and forth, again and again, my fingers and thumb added to my efforts until she is howling and shaking with ecstasy.

  Our legs intertwine once more, our cunts pressing together, hands on hips, holding tight and rocking our bodies. The soft wet sounds of our motions are accompanied by almost beastly panting and grunting. It feels so good, tangled up with her, rubbing against her.

  “Yes!” I cry. “I’m cumming!”

  “I’m cumming too!” She laughs.

  We cum together, again and again, our bodies moving fearlessly and without any restraint. We spend our lust and collapse on the cold stones, our bodies shaking and our flesh stinking of the slime. At last, the intoxicating effects recede. I realize how foolish we are to still be flopping about naked on the floor.

  “Let’s get some clothes on,” I suggest to Nellie, helping her to her feet.

  “Yes, of course,” says Nellie, blushing deeply as she tries to avert her gaze from my naked body.

  Once we are dressed, I turn my attention to finding a way out. There is a large yawning opening to another room near the mimic. It is filled with blocky stone structures that I realize are tombs.

  “I’d rather not go that way,” I say, feeling a dreadful chill in the air and a miasma of decay.

  “There,” suggests Nellie, pointing to an arched passage hidden in nearby shadows. She conjures one of her glowing orbs and reveals a tunnel with two very narrow walkways on either side of a wide, shallow canal. The water is dark, but does not smell particularly bad, so at least it isn’t sewage.

  “Looks like we’re going to get wet,” I say, wading into the water.

  “We are rather dirty,” she chuckles, gasping slightly as we slip thigh-deep into the cold water.

  The canal stretches ahead into the darkness, the surface only stirred by the movement of our legs. We have no idea how far it goes or how deep it can get, but we seem to agree that it is preferable to the creepy tombs.

  CONTINUE >

  Reluctantly let Nellie stand on the pressure plate

  The repulsive gelatinous wave of the zyggoth is bearing down the hallway towards us. One of us must remain on the pressure plate on the floor to keep the gate up and let the other escape. I don’t want to let Nellie sacrifice herself for me, but I can see the determination in her eyes. Arguing with the beautiful elf is going to cost us both.

  “Thank
you,” I say, hugging her tightly one last time.

  “Do not ever yield to these beasts,” she says, squeezing my hands against the softness of her breasts. “Do not stop until you make Zimon pay for what he has done.”

  “I will make him remember you,” I promise, pulling away from her as I see the slime surging much closer.

  “Perhaps we will meet again,” she says. I spare a glance over her shoulder as the slime is almost upon us. The mockery of a face on its surface has contorted into something almost like anger. Nellie cries, “Go! There is no more time!”

  She stands firmly on the pressure plate and the iron gate ratchets all the way up to the ceiling of the hallway. The way is clear to the door and time has run out.

  “Farewell, Beatrix!” She calls.

  “Farewell, Nellie!” I call in reply and run for it.

  I duck under the gate and reach the small door as the slime reaches Nellie. I fling the door open as she cries out behind me, cursing as the slime slurps lewdly at her body. I don’t dare look back. I run through the door as she begins to wail. I hear the gate slam shut behind me.

  Nellie is no longer on the pressure plate. I slam the door, crying out in despair as I realize I have abandoned my only friend in this awful dungeon to a fate that might be worse than death. Now all I have left is my oath: I will find Zimon and I will make him remember Nellie as he suffers for what he has done.

  With renewed determination, I set off down the dark passage ahead of me.

  CONTINUE >

  Use my Finesse Attack against the slime

  “Stay back!” I shout to Nellie. “I’ll take this thing apart!”

  “Y-yes, alright,” gasps the elf, backing towards the wall of the chamber. The zyggoth follows the movement of its bulging pseudopodia, slithering and flowing into each of these extensions and oozing closer. I move with quick motions, darting close and slicing through the protrusions. These separate under my blade, but the slime is quick to extrude a portion of itself after each severed part and recapture the gelatinous remnant.

  Seeing the ease with which it recovers from my attack only strengthens my determination. I dance out of the way of several searching tentacles of slime, hacking off the tip of each and causing them to splash to the ground.

  “Blooooo!” The slime burbles with annoyance. I dance around the puddle of its body, leaping close to hack off a pseudopod or a tendril and darting back again before the slime can react by lurching in my direction. It wobbles and mewls with annoyance as I continually prune its limbs, forcing it to focus more and more of its efforts on simply repairing the damage.

  Despite these skilled attacks, I am only occupying its attention, not actually doing it harm. I will eventually grow tired and the slime will still be there, waiting for me when I slow, grabbing me with its gooey tentacles.

  “I can’t keep doing this forever, Nellie!” I shout, lopping off another tendril as big as my wrist. It splatters at my feet and kick it off my boot, retreating quickly as the slime reclaims its lost appendage. “You need to find us a way out of here!”

  “Yes! Yes, alright!” Nellie cries and she summons her orb of light to her hand to shine it between the columns and into the dark recesses of the chamber.

  I battle against the slime, hacking off more and more of it as it burbles with frustration. It tries to get under my feet and it almost succeeds in wrapping a tentacle around the ankle of my boot. I manage to lop off the knotted end of the tentacle trying to ensnare me and kick away the severed glob slime.

  “BloooOOOOooo!” The slime warbles and lashes out at me with two more tendrils that I slice away. Ripples spread across the surface of the bulky slime and its strange face furrows with something that might be anger.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, am I upsetting you?” I laugh, lopping off a few more tendrils as they begin to surge forth. A long, dripping tentacle flails at me and fall over backpedaling out of its path. I scramble back desperately, kicking at more tentacles and then managing to lop them off with my sword. I pull myself to my feet.

  “Beatrix!” Nellie cries. “Stairs! I found a staircase!”

  “Thank the gods!” I pull myself to my feet, slicing off one last tentacle before I turn and run. I follow the glow of Nellie’s orb to an arched doorway between two columns. Nellie is waiting a few steps up a staircase.

  “Did you kill it?” She asks hopefully.

  “No!” I say, taking the stairs two at a time. “Run, Nellie! I can hear it coming!”

  I grab her and pull her with me up the stairs as I run past. We stumble arm-in-arm up the winding stairs. A glance back confirms my worst fears as I see the violet mass of slime slosh into the stairwell and begin flowing up the steps. We climb higher and higher. My legs ache and I am desperately out of breath.

  “Just ahead,” cries Nellie. “There! A hallway!”

  The slime is not far behind us as we emerge from the stairwell and into a long hallway. There is a heavy door at the end of the hall, but the door is behind an iron gate. As I run towards it, my food depresses a hidden panel in the floor. My full body weight presses down on the panel and the gate begins to rise. I step off the panel and the gate crashes down again in an instant.

  “It’s a pressure plate,” cries Nellie. “The gate is opened by a pressure plate.”

  The slime is filling the hallway behind us, spreading its oozing body wide so that it can obstruct the entire passage. There is no going back. I realize the meaning of the pressure plate activation for the gate: one of us will have to stay behind to hold the gate open for the other person.

  “I might be able to wedge my sword into the plate and hold it open so… so…” The gate clatters up as I struggle to hold it down with my sword, but I can already see that it won’t work. There is no gap between the depressed plate and the wall of the depression beneath it. I can’t even work the tip of my sword between the two.

  Nellie’s soft hands cradle my face. She makes me lift my gaze and look into her blue eyes.

  “It’s almost here, Beatrix,” she whispers, a smile forming on her lips. “Go. Go and I will stand on the plate.”

  “No, Nellie,” I say.

  “You saved my life,” she says, her eyes wet with emotion. “Let me save yours. I will stand on the plate. You go through.”

  My heart aches at her sincerity. There is no time to convince her, no time to debate. The slime is almost upon us. I must either agree or take her place and push her through the gate.

  “Bloooo!” The slime calls, seeming to taunt us as it approaches.

  “Go,” says Nellie, squeezing my hands.

  What should I do?

  Reluctantly let Nellie stand on the pressure plate to open the gate

  Stand on the plate and hold the gate open for Nellie

  Gather treasure for the mimic

  “No way am I going near you,” I say. “You ate my friend!”

  “Sounds like you don’t want her back then,” says the mimic.

  “I’ll go into the crypt and get you your treasure,” I say. “I’ll put it here on the floor and you give me my friend back. Fair?”

  “I need at least five prime pieces of gold lure to equal the lure I’d get from digesting this elf,” says the mimic. “Not to mention, she’s delicious and I’m going to be missing out on a meal. So make it good, or I’m not giving you nothing.”

  “That’s a double negative,” I say.

  “Smart ass!” He lashes out at me with a pink tentacle. It slaps wetly against the stone floor as I dodge easily out of the path.

  “I’ll be back,” I say, feigning confidence, but feeling sick down in my stomach at the thought of Nellie spending any more time being magically digested inside the mimic. That thought provides me the motivation I need.

  “Heh heh! Good luck!” The mimic shouts after me.

  The entrance to the room near the mimic is an open doorway into a dark room. As I step inside, a sparse few torches flicker to life with magical blue flame, casting a dim gl
ow over two rows of large stone tombs. Each is topped with a different image of a king, a knight, or a cleric. There is a chill in the air far worse than in the previous room and my breath comes in heavy gusts from my mouth. I shiver as I approach the first tomb. The image carved on the stone lid is of a young-seeming man holding a scepter and a sword. A crown sits upon his head.

  I push with both hands the lid groans and shifts. I use my sword and carefully lever the lid open enough to tip it off the tomb. It slides to the ground and lands with a crash, the stone lid smashing into a hundred pieces. A horrid cloud of corpse dust rises from the tomb. I wave it away and lean over the tomb, peering through the lingering cloud of dust at a corpse in ancient finery. There is hardly more than bones and a few wisps of hair left on the skeleton. There is also a large amulet around the corpse’s neck in the shape of a serpent with a dusty emerald as big as my thumbnail set into the gold serpent’s eye.

  I reach in for the amulet and the corpse sits up, growling at me as a faint blue glow appears in its empty eye sockets.

  “Thief,” it rasps and reaches for me with its bony hands. I shout a curse of protection and swing my sword. The moment the steel blade makes contact with the corpse’s ribcage, the skeleton explodes into a choking cloud of dust and scattered pieces of bones. I stagger back, but I have the amulet in my hand and the skeleton is destroyed.

  It’s at that point that I hear the growling come from fifteen other tombs. Bony hands begin scrambling inside some, while other tombs begin to rumble as the lids are shoved aside from within. I ready my sword and turn my attention to the nearest tomb. The lid is tipped off the top and crashes to the floor. A long-haired skeleton practically leaps from the tomb and wields a gold-headed war hammer.

  “Thief!” It snarls in a high, rasping voice. “Invader!”

  I swing my sword and it catches my blade on its war hammer and throws me back. I almost fall over backwards into the tomb I just looted. Instead, I recover, driving my sword into the skeleton’s head and cause it to explode into dust, pieces of bone, and tufts of hair. I grab the hammer before it falls to the floor and swing it in an arc that catches the next skeleton in its ribcage. The withered corpse looks almost surprise as it bursts apart like a festival popper and drops a golden crown.