The bigger tentacles begin to rhythmically knead my breasts, the suctioned tips popping on and off my stiff, sensitive nipples. Overwhelmed by sensation and drenched in slime, I cum for the pitiless abhorreth. Ecstasy tightens in my core, clutching at the tendrils in my pussy and ass. I buck my hips, abandoning all the thought but the waves of pleasure swamping my body.
Lord Splugwyrth lowers me back to the gangway, gentling setting my body down and partially withdrawing his tendrils. I gasp and jerk with aftershocks, unable to catch my breath. His tendrils open my pussy and ass and his cock-tipped tentacles descend.
I sit up sharply and shout, “No!”
He stops, his cocks poised only a hand’s width from my parted pussy lips and tentacle gaped asshole.
“Do you not wish to know the heights of pleasure?” The question rolls seductively through my mind.
“I do not wish…ooooohhh…would you stop that!?” I shake my hips to try to dislodge his tentacle. “Please, Lord Splugwyrth. We had a deal.”
“Mmmmmmm, very well,” he grumbles. “We did have a deal. And I am not yet satiated.”
He presents his three stiff cocks for me. I catch my breath and roll onto my hands and knees. Dripping with his slime and feeling nauseas from all the cum I swallowed, I nevertheless crawl to the abhorreth’s cocks and eagerly begin pleasuring him. I rub his cocks against my slimy breasts, stroking them, licking them, and taking turns sucking them. Soon, he is moaning, and the sounds of my wanton sucking echo in the vast chamber. It takes a great deal of effort, but I make him explode against my breasts, drenching me in his hot, slippery seed. It flows and splashes upon my breasts. I wank his cocks empty and let it cover me.
And still he is not satisfied, so I suck and suck. Drawing out yet more cum from each of his cucks, drinking it down whorishly and pretending to savor it even though he must know I feel nearly bursting with his seed. I roll onto my back, my belly distended with cum and my slimy body tingling from an overdose of the abhorreth’s secretions.
“You have done well,” he says. “Recover, sweet Beatrix. I will not try to stop you from seeking out your friend.”
He gathers my clothing and even spouts water onto my naked body to clean away the cum drying on my flesh. I regain my senses, dress, and rise unsteadily to my feet. My jaw aches and my lips are sore from pleasuring the abhorreth so much. But I am free.
I set off down the gangway, feeling a bit sluggish, but otherwise recovered. The Savage Queen looms before me with the rope ladder dangling from its moldering flank. It’s a long way up the ship’s bulging timbers. I sheath my sword and grab the slimy ropes, hook my foot into the net, and begin my climb.
I pull myself up to the gunwale and drop over onto the deck of a misty, eerily quiet ship that belongs to the dead. I might be mad at Delfina, but I will be damned if I lose another comrade to the horrors of Zimon’s dungeon.
CONTINUE >
Guard against the abhorreth
I will not allow myself to be mesmerized or lured by this vile leviathan. I back up the gangway, drawing my sword as questing tentacles of gray flesh. These boneless limbs thump and flail about, curling on the rotten wood, pulling up planks and shaking the entire maze of docks so that it is difficult to stand.
Of these tentacles there seem to be several types. The thick muscular main limbs are doing the greatest damage to the gangways while numerous small tendrils whip about furiously to little effect. There is also a large tentacle with a tip like a fleshy spade that the abhorreth holds out of reach and does not flail like most others. I also count at least four tentacles that end in a pinkening of the flesh and a distinctly phallic design that I can easily imagine being used to violate any unlucky woman that comes into reach.
“Not me,” I say with determination, swatting away a slimy tentacle.
Lord Splugwyrth’s voice rises again, forceful enough to be disorienting as it rings in my mind.
“This is no child’s game, Beatrix Ardora,” purrs the abhorreth, his voice unctuous and inhuman, yet appallingly seductive.
“H-how do you know my name?” I cry, swatting aside another tentacle. This one has suckers that adhere to the flat of my sword. The tentacle pulls at my weapon and I twist my sword free to keep it from being wrenched from my hand.
“I know your mind like you know the direction of a breeze, my dear,” purrs the abhorreth. “I smelled your thoughts, desires, and memories the moment you passed over me. Lesser Crudridge. Your father. That boy in the hay loft. The other boy in the hay loft. The third boy in the hay loft. I know them all. I know your…usefulness to me.”
The tentacle swipes at me again and I step back rather than trying to parry its sticky attack. The abhorreth is ready for me, with two thick suckered tentacles rising behind me so that I back directly into them. One curls swiftly around my waist, binding me tight and sucking against my bare midriff. I squeal as the slimy secretions of the tentacle spread over my flesh, cold at first, but quickly warm as they soak into my body.
“Ohhhhh,” I moan, my thoughts becoming confused by the sudden rush of sensation. The other larger tentacle wraps my sword arm from my bicep to my hand, twisting painfully and causing me to drop my weapon. It splashes harmlessly into the lagoon and disappears beneath the black waters. My mind reeling, my body growing hot, I try to leap over the far side of the gangway as a last act of defiance.
“Now, now,” purrs Lord Splugwyrth. “This way, my dear.”
He pulls me in the other direction, my feet lurching off the planks. I brace for the cool water of the lagoon, but the abhorreth lifts me up, holding me above the water’s surface as numerous tentacles gather upon my body to do their insidious work. They slither into my clothing, undressing me from the inside, bursting buttons and peeling back my blouse to reveal my heaving, pale breasts. Countless smaller tendrils push into my ripped trousers and burst the seams of my pants. Wherever these tentacles touch, they coat my body in slime and this slime stokes the heat in my core and makes my mind drift to unwelcome thoughts of being taken by the abhorreth.
“Yessssss,” the leviathan purrs. “No need to fight it, Beatrix. We were destined to be together. Our pleasure is the door to freedom. I will mate with you and we shall escape this accursed place.”
I can only moan in reply. My thoughts are turned entirely to pleasure. I writhe as the tentacles slide and slap against my naked flesh. Tendrils tear apart my panties and wriggle against my cunt. Several of these smaller tentacles slide between my buttocks, dragging maddeningly against the divot of my anus. The heat in my core becomes unbearable. My eyes roll back in my head and I buck with desperation to be fucked by the abhorreth.
“I have what you desire, my sweet,” purrs that horrible voice.
Three slimy gray tentacles rise from the water around me, each crowned with a pink cock like a well-endowed man, but with many small bumps and a fleshy frill around the bulging bell end. I moan wordlessly, but my desire is clear enough in my thoughts. The abhorreth’s many tentacles pull my legs wide and one of those cock plunges directly into the hot cove of my pussy. Pleasure shoots through me, those bumps and frills rubbing exquisitely against my clit as it takes me with sloshing, slimy strokes.
“Ohhhhhhhh!” I wail, my voice echoing in the quiet of the vast cavern.
“More? Is that what you want?” The abhorreth teases me as the other two cock-tipped tentacles move towards me. One presses between my cheeks, catching on my clenched asshole for a moment, but then sliding past that and into my tight hole. Gods, it goes so deep! It feels as if that slimy cock is in my belly. The third tentacle slides between my heaving breasts, wrapping tightly to my body, and finally pushing its fat tip straight to my mouth.
“Mmmmmmmm!” I moan, sucking it without hesitation. I taste the sickly-sweet slime of the tentacle, gulping down the ooze and sucking wantonly for more. The abhorreth chuckles in my mind as I dangle like a ragdoll in a web of tentacles, my holes filled with monstrous cock. I hate him, yet I am lost in the pleasure
of what he is doing. His cocks stir one orgasm after another in my depths, finding pleasures I never even imagined as his slime coats my flushed flesh.
“I shall play you like an instrument, my lovely human!” laughs the abhorreth. “I will drive you mad with pleasure before I claim your womb!”
“GGrrrgggllgggrl!” I gurgle around his cock as it pumps in and out of my throat. Although I suck him in my mouth and move my hips, I am entirely at his mercy. His slimy cocks rule me and drive me to a third, fourth, and fifth orgasm. My muscles ache from the spasms of pleasure. My throat is hoarse from crying out around his cock.
My mind breaks on the tenth orgasm. I no longer thinking of myself or my body as distinct from the abhorreth. My slimy breasts belong to him. My cunt belongs to him. My pleasure is just another facet of his physiological reactions, like an ache in his belly or a pain in his mighty head.
“Now,” he purrs. “Now you are ready to receive the seed of Lord Splugwyrth.”
Yessss! It is what I crave! Tears fall from my unseeing eyes as happiness fills me. His cocks pump faster and faster, becoming slimy pistons in all three of my holes. A roar engulfs my mind, howling with pleasure that only I can hear. Tiny ripples spread across the surface of the lagoon.
All at once, the three cocks throb inside me. Torrents of monstrous seed pump into my stretched asshole, my raw throat, and deep into my hungry cunt. The moment the abhorreth’s seed reaches my womb, the curse takes hold and I feel the power of conception, bursting like a sunrise within me. I howl with ecstasy, my purpose fully joined to my master. My womb a vessel for his unholy spawn. Yes! It is everything I have ever wanted. My body quakes with unbounded pleasure.
I have been bred by the abhorreth! All hail Lord Splugwyrth!
CONTINUE >
Use Power Attacks to defeat the pirates
I’ve faced down monsters of unimaginable evil and power. I can certainly face down a couple of pirates with rusty swords, glowing eyes or not. In fact, I’m angered by these two oafs thinking they could match blades with me. I laugh as I raise my longsword high and charge at them.
Brollo’s glowing eyes widen and he brings his sword up just in time to deflect my blade. Although he manages to save himself, his blade breaks and rusty fragments fly away from the ruined sword. Instead of finishing him off, I turn my swing to Skeff and with an even louder roar I drive my blade deep into his guts. It feels more like a stuffed pillow, to be honest, and as I pull the blade out more blue light spills from his belly.
“Gonna take more than that to stop me,” he laughs and raises his sword to deal me a mortal blow.
“Would this be enough!?” I ask, swinging wide and cleaving Skeff’s head off his shoulders. A ghostly version of his head pops up from the stump, looking at me with surprise.
“You cut off my head? You b…” His words trail off as his body collapses lifelessly to the deck and the glow is extinguished.
“You killed my best mate!” Brollo grabs my blouse and beats at me with his fists. I kick him away and turn my sword on him, slashing his belly and following through with a stab upwards and into his skull. What could have been gruesome seems to register more as surprise. His glowing eyes widen and he groans, “Doesn’t really hurt, you know. Only a minor wound. I can…”
His words fade away like Skeff’s had and Rollo slumps to the ground, the light gone from his eyes. Can you really kill something like these two or have their ghosts simply gone somewhere else temporarily? I don’t intend to wait around and find out. If they can come back, they’ll bring at least a dozen friends.
I search the darkened doorways near me to be certain no more pirates are about to sally forth and challenge me. Once I am convinced, I turn back to the stairs and climb to the cabin. A broken lantern hangs beside the door. The door itself is exquisitely ornate, depicting a pirate woman astride the seas, her breasts bare and a cutlass in each hand. The face of this image has been chopped away in anger and the carving is blackened with filth. A placard is just visible beneath the grime. “Captain’s Quarters.”
I listen at the door. It's eerily quiet in there. Has she won? Has she killed him? Or has he bested her? I grasp the handle of the door.
There is only one way to answer those questions.
CONTINUE >
Use Finesse Attacks against the pirates
A smile quirks my lips as I look at the two clumsy pirate swordsmen. Brollo holds his blade in an awkward two-handed grip totally inappropriate for a cutlass. Skeff wields his blade in lazy swings, practically dropping it because he holds it so loosely. Finally! A chance to use my skills as a swordsman for a real battle! I am going to enjoy this!
“On your guard then, sea dogs,” I laugh, easily parrying one of Skeff’s swings and driving a playful jab at Brollo. He cries out and staggers back, his rust-eaten sword clanging harmlessly against my superior longsword.
“I’ll cut you down to size,” snarls Skeff, taking a wild swing at me that I easily dodge. I counter and slice through his off hand, severing it just below the elbow. He cries out as the severed limb drops to the deck. A moment later, his forearm and hand reappear, only now they are translucent and ghostly blue. I’m so distracted by the appearance of this glowing limb, that I almost allow Brollo past my blade with a ludicrous overhead swing of his cutlass.
“Nice attempt!” I shout, stepping aside and letting his swing cleave thin air. “I will cut you both down a bit. How about I even you out, Rollo?”
He turns, trying to bring his guard up, but he’s far too slow. My sword takes off his good leg with ease and he crumples over, moaning and kicking as a ghostly leg pops out of the stump. This passes straight through the deck with each frustrated kick and he drags himself over to the gunwale to try to pull himself back onto his stump.
“You’ve maimed me,” he cries in frustration. “How could you do that? Alls I can do is hop about now like a cricket!”
He tries and promptly falls back on his face. I am amused by his plight, but my amusement almost gets me killed. Skeff comes in fast, swinging his cutlass for my back and coming so close that he slices my blouse. I shout, dancing out of his reach and turning to meet his second swing. Our blades clang together. I overpower him and kick him away from me.
“You often creep up behind women and try to stick things in them?” I ask, flourishing my sword.
“All the time,” he says, baring his blackened teeth.
I smile in reply and lop off his sword arm at the shoulder. He stares in confusion as his ghostly limb pops forth from the stump.
“You cut my—” I finish him off with a swing that removes his head. A ghostly head pops up from his stump and he says, “Oh, now that’s just not fair.”
He collapses to the deck, the ghostly limbs seeming to slide out of his flesh and down into the bowels of the ship. The light is gone from Skeff. Rollo, realizing he is in danger, starts dragging himself away from me. I stalk over to him and drive my sword into the back of his bald head. It crunches easily into his skull and blue light spills out of like I’ve just carved into a lighted jack-o-lantern.
“Oof,” he grunts. “Doesn’t hurt near as bad I expected though.”
The light dims and fades from Rollo as well and his body goes limp on the deck. I yank my sword out of his head.
I search the darkened doorways near me to be certain no more pirates are about to sally forth and challenge me. Once I am convinced, I turn back to the stairs and climb to the cabin. A broken lantern hangs beside the door. The door itself is exquisitely ornate, depicting a pirate woman astride the seas, her breasts bare and a cutlass in each hand. The face of this image has been chopped away in anger and the carving is blackened with filth. A placard is just visible beneath the grime. “Captain’s Quarters.”
I listen at the door. It's eerily quiet in there. Has she won? Has she killed him? Or has he bested her? I grasp the handle of the door.
There is only one way to answer those questions.
CONTINUE >
&
nbsp; Talk to the swaugins
“Wait,” I say to Delfina, “let’s not be hasty. Maybe we can reason with the one that talks.”
“Trained a parrot to talk on my ship,” she whispers. “Beautiful bird. Every color of the rainbow. Caught him on the Isle of No Hope. Named him Fortunato.”
“What happened to him?” I ask, sparing the pirate queen a nervous glance.
“He got the door open to the galley when we were all asleep or on deck and died from eating too many pickles,” she says. “Found him the next day with half a cornichon wedged down his throat. Poor bastard. Buried him at sea wrapped in a stocking.”
“Hang out now?” asks the leader of the swaugins as he creeps nearer.
“M-maybe,” I say, raising a calming hand and lowering the blade of my sword. “Let’s talk things over. What exactly do you mean when you say that you want to hang out?”
The leader, seeming to take my question to be an invitation, lowers his weapon and steps closer to me. I flinch from his hands as he reaches them out to me. Cold fingers caress my face. His touch travels my arms. His gray lips curve into something like a human smile.
“Hang out,” he hisses. “Be friends.”
“I’m not certain they are getting the message,” warns Delfina, keeping her sword up as the other four swaugins close in around us.
Fertile in My Ex-Boyfriend's Dungeon 4 Page 11