The Library of Forbidden Pleasures Presents

MONSTER MILKED

It’s Time for the Princess to Quench Monster Thirst!

By Amanda Clover

This book and all its contents are copyright 2022 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.

Introduction

Even monsters agree that milk is a delicious and healthy treat. They especially crave the creamy taste of human milk! A true delight for thirsty monsters on the prowl in a mad wizard’s dungeon!

Like most books in the Library of Forbidden Pleasures, Monster Milked began as a series of commissions from one of my patrons. This patron is particularly fond of Kirsten Sungbaard, the tough blonde princess who is the protagonist from The Dungeon of the Monster Breeder. This is the first book in my Princess to Pleasure Slave Adventure series of choose your own path erotica and features many triumphs and defeats for Kirsten.

The dungeon, ruled over by the mad wizard Madreg, is full of traps and monsters that can defeat Kirsten if you choose the wrong path. One portion of the story centers around a magical dairy that uses automatons to pleasure and milk women. Kirsten can escape this lair of milky menace, she can fall prey to it, or even surrender willingly to its perverse pleasures. Lust and ecstasy can transform her into an eager human milk cow.

This magical dairy and other lactation fantasies featured heavily in my patron’s commissions. Each story in this collection represents a “Bad End” for Kirsten in Madreg’s dungeon. Think of the stories as related, but not directly linked by events. Each is a path not taken for the brave princess. Each story may end in defeat for her.

Although this installment of the library is a dark fantasy, it does not get as dark as Future Filth. At worst, Kirsten will become a slave to pleasure. But with each gasping surrender, she will still have another chance in the next story to avoid a similar fate!

Amanda Clover

2022

1

Madreg’s Milkers

It was the Convent of Lady Ulsen the Pure that finally provided Madreg the Demented with the raw material for the plump, subservient cows he had long desired for his magical dairy. The pious sisters of the convent did not begin as cows. No, once the insane wizard’s orcs had broken down the gates, the nuns barricaded themselves in their convent and refused to come out.

“Madreg the Benevolent will show you all mercy,” cried Madreg’s latest negotiator. “Surrender to him and you will know boundless pleasure and the freedom from the oppressive strictures of your false goddess!”

“Never!” The sister superior shouted through a small opening in the shutters over the tower window. The old crone had maintained the barricades and kept her comely flock on a short leash. “We would rather die than surrender to you!

Madreg smiled and leaned over to the orc doing the shouting. “Keep the crone talking.”

“Yes, boss,” said the orc. He raised his voice and resumed yelling. “I’ll make you a deal, you old witch. Send out two of them. Your fattest, softest pair of sisters. Send them on out and we’ll refrain from putting the torch to this here convent. What do you say to that?”

“I say you are wasting your breath, orc!” came the immediate reply. “Your word is no good! We’ve heard what your master has done to the villages to the south!” The crone’s face was visible at the small opening. “We have weapons, you know! Come and find out! We’ll show you the sharp ends and we’ll… we’ll…”

She realized something was wrong and slammed the shutter closed. It was too late. Madreg had cast the unholy spell, concentrating on the sound of her voice. Inside the tower, the crone was shaking, withering, transforming by sloughing skin and clumps of hair until she was a gnarled wooden broom that clattered to the floor. The nuns screamed and began to run out of the tower.

The orcs were waiting.

As the terrified nuns came running out of the doors and even jumping from second floor windows, the orcs snatched them up.

“No fuck them!” snarled the orc commander.

“Bring them to me,” said Madreg. “I will let you have a few.”

The nuns were collected by the orcs and hauled into the trampled garden behind the convent. Some were still kicking and screaming and some were whimpering with fear, their habits torn open and their wimples gone. They all fell silent when they saw Madreg. The gaunt wizard floated above the ground, looking them over as they quailed before him. Their blue garments were torn and their linen slips showed through. He caught glimpses of their shapely bodies. Most were well fed, but there were a few that looked too scrawny to really be worth his effort.

“You may have those four,” he told the captain of the orcs. “Do with them as you like.”

“This one is mine!” snarled the captain, choosing one golden-skinned sister that looked different from the others. “You take these three.”

The orc’s lieutenants and bruisers began fighting over the three remaining sisters as the captain slung the golden-skinned girl over his shoulder, grabbing the meager roundness of her ass. Madreg chuckled and watched the green-skinned barbarian carrying off his prize. The demented wizard returned his attention to the others. Eleven in all. A little magic and they were collared and docile, runes glowing on the iron collars to keep them receptive to his needs.

He had readied his dairy. Now he had his cows. The fun would soon begin.

Three Months Later

Madreg breakfasted on blood cakes, sting fruit, and fried leeches. When he had slurped up his fill of wriggling vermin, he decided it was time to pay a visit to his dairy. It was within this perverted milk farm that he extracted the invaluable cream used for his magic and provided milk to supply his conquering army.

He had no pressing matters. The conquest of Tarol was nearly complete and his orcs would be more than capable of handling anything involving looting and pillaging. Madreg donned a black velvet robe over his bony frame, but not before running his fingers over the squirming green length of his new cock. A little something to use to enjoy his many slave girls every night. Taken from an orc and enhanced with blasphemous magic.

His mind drifted, as it often did, to Kirsten Sungbaard. His latest triumph. He could have put that meddling princess in his harem, but he rather enjoyed her staying where she’d ended up. Caught in the trap that had befallen the sisters of the nunnery, the princess had spent the last three weeks being stimulated and milked in his unholy dairy.

“It’s been more than a week since I have visited,” he chuckled, sliding his gnarled feet into his clawed slippers. “I wonder how her transformation has progressed.”

The dairy was hot and dark and filled with the sights, sounds, and smells of carnal pleasure. Two tiers of cows stood at their milking stations, six on the bottom and six on the top. Their bodies swollen from the injections and constant stimulation to the point that their breasts had doubled, tripled, or even quadrupled in size depending on the cow.

As Madreg looked on, the laden tits of his cows heaved and shuddered. The cows shifted their burgeoning weight from foot-to-foot, unable to escape their milking stands.

The pious sisters of the convent had broken easily once he’d unleashed the milkers upon them. The sphere-shaped magical artifacts had a way of driving a girl mad with pleasure and molding her mind until she was a perfect submissive milk cow. That was even before their bodies began to change.

A few of the nuns that had been busty from the start now sported breasts that were each twice the size of their heads. Their massive teats shuddered and their fat red nipples pulsed under the suction of the spheres. Madreg watched through the translucent cups as milk spurted with each thump of suction. The priceless cream was instantly drawn into the sphere milking each girl. A golden tender floated among them. Much larger than the other spheres, this one carried the main reservoirs and served up the enriched milk bars that nourished the cows.

As Madreg watched, the tender approached one of the silver spheres. The smaller sphere disengaged its milking cups from the pale redheaded woman it was milking with two loud pops. Her huge breasts, partly deflated after the milking, jiggled and drooped as they were released.

The glassy-eyed woman lowed with discomfort as the cool air hit her glistening red nipples. The silver sphere extended its hose to the golden tender and began to empty its reservoir into the much larger reservoir of the tender. As it did, the silver sphere extended a pair of manipulator arms and spurted out soothing salve onto tiny rubber-covered hands.

“Hurt,” moaned the cow, tears welling in her dull blue eyes.

Madreg chuckled. Her nipples did look rather raw.

“Back,” he commanded the silver orb as he approached. “Give me the salve. I will apply it.”

“Confirmed,” replied the sphere, floating over to Madreg and spurting out the greasy salve into the palms of the wizard’s hands. He smiled his wicked smile as he stepped up to the moaning human cow and gently cupped his hands beneath her dangling teats.

“OoOOOooOOoo,” she moaned, twisting her head back and forth as he slowly massaged the salve into her fat tits.

Her nipples seemed to swell and thicken even more against his fingers. He tugged at them and she moaned again, louder, her plush hips shaking from side to side. Her buttocks wobbling. He let the droplets of milk fill his palms and then lifted his hands up to his face. He darted his serpentine tongue through the cream and shuddered at the sweetness of her milk. The more innocent the girl, the sweeter the milk. This one must have been a virgin before she joined his dairy. He slurped up all the milk from his hands before returning his touch to the whimpering girl.

“You were one of the sisters I took at the convent of Lady Ulsen,” he observed. “What is your name?”

“Name?” She lifted her head just enough to look into his eyes as he massaged her breasts. “Please.”

“Please what?” he asked, arching an eyebrow.

“M-m-mate… with mmmmoooooooo…”

Her brow furrowed from the effort of concentrating and speaking. Madreg considered her request. He had spilled his seed into more than one of the sisters out of curiosity, but it was never very satisfying. Particularly now that their minds were almost gone to the act of being his dairy cows. The orcs fucked them too often. Stretched out their cunts with their rough orc cocks.

Ah, but there was one girl who was kept off-limits. One that belonged only to Madreg. His prize.

“Not today, my sweet,” he said and patted the cow’s head. She lowed with disappointment. He motioned over one of the idle spheres. “Pleasure this cow. Both holes. Full cycle.”

“Confirmed,” replied the sphere, moving behind the redheaded cow’s plush ass and extending twin phallic tendrils. It plunged its artificial cocks into the waiting pussy and ass of the redheaded cow and she let out a deep moan of pleasure.

Madreg watched for a bit longer, his foul cock stiffening as the cow swung in her restraints and gasped from the sphere’s relentless thrusts. He well knew that the sphere would exhaust her libido and leave her nearly unconscious with pleasure. He gave her rump a final smack before moving down the row and inspecting his other cows. He often toyed with the idea of bringing the comelier cows to his throne room to decorate the chamber and serve as refreshments.

When the war is won, he told himself. I need their milk for my potions now. And to feed my hungry army.

Once the conquest of the Lesser Kingdoms was complete, he would consolidate his gains and expand his dairy. A thousand cows for the invasion of the north! Ah, yes, a cavern filled with mooing sluts! A cruel smile spread across his face as he imagined the scene. He could erect a statue of himself so that the cow girls were forced to gaze upon it every day as they were milked. They would revere him as their god with their simple minds.

“Ooooohhhh!” A familiar cry of pleasure called out to Madreg from the upper level of his dairy. A lone milking stand had been surrounded with red velvet curtains. A golem stood guard outside the curtain to prevent any randy orcs from meddling with the cow girl within. Madreg approached and the golem’s head slowly turned to face him. It would do nothing to stop its creator.

Madreg drew aside the curtain and saw the Princess of Tarol, bent over like all the other common cows, her arms bound, and her body bent forward over her milking post. Her breasts had more than doubled in size over the span of a week. Her pink nipples thickening and elongating from the hormones and constant stimulation. The magical injections worked quite well. He had perfected the formula himself.

Kirsten’s lovely ass was still firm compared to the slovenly cows from the nunnery. As he walked around to her front, she lifted her head and looked up at him.

He saw a hint of intelligence remaining in her blue eyes. She was broken, yes, but not a beast like those other girls. He appreciated the willpower of the beautiful princess. She had made a fine adversary when she had tried to escape his dungeon. A hopeless task, of course. Now she was his favorite plaything. He ran his bony fingers over her flank, causing her to tremble and moan.

“Good morning, my pet,” he said, curling a lock of straw blonde hair behind her ear. He patted her head like he might an obedient animal. “It looks like you haven’t been milked yet this morning. Saving it for me?”

“M-Madreg,” she growled. “Bastard.”

“Guilty as charged on both accounts,” he replied. “How are you feeling? A bit tight? All that weight dangling from your chest and that awful pressure from going unmilked for so long. It must really hurt. I could relieve some of that pressure for you. If you asked nicely.”

She whispered something too softly for him to hear.

“Oh, I know how it can be, my lovely princess. So difficult to admit you are beaten.” He brought his hideous face down towards her. “Whisper it to me again. Say it so I can hear it.”

Her eyes narrowed in anger and she spoke in a glob of warm saliva she spat into Madreg’s face. He jerked back, touching his fingers to the wetness on his cheek and dribbling down over his lips. He smiled and licked his lips.

“There are other ways this can be done,” he said.

At a gesture of a gnarled hand, magical tendrils extended from the floor and ceiling. They glowed with crackling electrical magic, blue light snapping from the pronged tips of the tendrils as they began to stroke Kirsten’s voluptuous body. The touch of the tendrils seemed almost gentle, but their violence was betrayed by the sharp pop of tiny arcs of electricity as they shocked Kirsten’s skin. She jerked and gasped. Madreg’s smile grew crueler by the moment as he closed his hand into a fist and the tendrils bound her breasts and slithered over her cunt and between her buttocks. She was being shocked several times every second. Her muscle spasms causing her milk to spray out erratically and her thighs and buttocks to jerk with the painful contractions.

Tears streamed down Kirsten’s face as it contorted in agony. Madreg laughed as he moved behind her, watching her anus clench with each shock-induced spasm. He rubbed at his stirring cock, imagining her tight ring and her puffy cunt squeezing around his demonic dick. Wisps of smoke were beginning to rise from Kirsten. Madreg knew she might catch fire if he pushed her much more.

“Enough!” he shouted, opening his fist, and dispelling the tendrils. They faded into sparkling motes and were gone. Kirsten let out a moan of relief and sagged in her restraints. Madreg rested a hand on her plush rear and gave it a stroke and a rough squeeze. “Shall I continue, or have you been reminded of your place?”

“N-no more,” she whimpered. “Please.”

She was breathing heavily, muscles straining with exertion and quivering with aftershocks of his electrical torture. The dripping of her dangling breasts drummed loudly against the metal funnel that caught overflow.

“Do you need help?” he asked, nudging one of her tits with the clawed toe of his sandal.

She whimpered and her tits swung from the shove he gave to them.

“Y-yes. Yes, please, ah, master. Please, milk me. My b-b-breasts are… are… they hurt.”

“You still know to call me master,” he chuckled, stroking her with his gnarled hand. “Good girl. Let me give you some relief.”

He reached above the princess and pulled the lever that connected to the cuffed ropes and the frame of the milking stand. She moaned as she was hauled fully upright with her wrists bound above her head. Madreg looked her in her rolling eyes and held her face by her cheeks. He planted a kiss on her lips and thrust his black tongue into her mouth. His venomous saliva awoke her desire and the fallen princess began moaning and kissing him in reply. He savored her surrender to lust. It was always so much more pleasant when she was his willing plaything.

“Some relief,” he growled against her lips.

His kiss moved lower. The black tentacle of his tongue caressed her swollen tits and dragged across one fat nipple and then the other. He tasted the sweetness of her welling milk. She cried out as he latched his black-rimmed mouth to one reddened areola. Her thick nipple gushed milk heavily from her breast. He drank greedily of her sweet cream. Hers was the most potent of any of his cows and he could feel the magic tingling in her warm flow.

“Ohhhhhh, master,” she cried. “It feels good… when you suck… ooooh!”

She jerked her hips, eager to be touched. The shameless whore! He chuckled as he popped his lips free of her right nipple and moved to her left. He drank just as greedily from that breast as he moved his bony fingers down her soft abdomen to her thick thighs. He pressed his hand between them, stroking the hot folds of her pussy. She wailed as he rubbed her fat clit and plunged three long fingers into her clutching cunny. He sucked and sucked until he was almost dizzy from drinking her milk. It was so rich and heavy, so full of magic, that he sagged against the controls for the milking stand.

He recovered and untied his robe, letting the tattered garment slip from his gaunt frame to reveal his hideous green cock. It dripped with unholy slime and was covered in greasy lumps that clustered at the root.

“N-No… gods…”

“I am your god now, silly slut,” he snarled. “And my godly magic made this cock just for you, my sweet. I’ve been waiting to fuck that tight little royal cunt with it.”

The princess began to weep at the sight of Madreg’s blasphemous green cock, no doubt as loathsome as anything the poor girl had ever seen. He had no pity for her. In fact, as he dragged her to her knees and shoved his cock into her pretty mouth, he cackled with glee.

Kirsten gagged and drooled down her chin as Madreg held her head and thrust his wriggling cock in and out of her mouth. Unholy precum seared her senses. She whimpered and sucked as her body burned with unholy lust.

She bobbed and slurped upon him, lost in the deed and drunk on his unnatural secretions. She was cured with desire for her disgusting, hated enemy. A fever that had only one cure for this cow belle. She eagerly pleasured the ugly wizard’s cock with her royal mouth.

“Yes! Yes, just like that! And the bollocks! Do not forget them, slut princess! Ohhhh, your tongue is so eager. In your mouth again now! Suck! Suck it out! Drink my seeeeeed!”

He held her head with both hands and fucked in and out of her mouth. His cock grazed the back of her throat with each thrust. He let out a high-pitched wail of ecstasy and powerful waves of pleasure seized him. His bollocks twitched and his cock throbbed in Kirsten’s eager mouth. He pumped a vile load of his seed down her throat.

She gagged on that thick, bitter spunk, but managed to gulp it all down. He shot again and again, filling her belly with his cum. When he was done, he was still hard. He wiped his cock on her face and pulled the lever of her milking stand. The gears turned and pulleys retracted as she was turned around and her head was pushed down to the floor. This left her fat arse raised high in the air.

“Oh, please,” whimpered the cum-drunk princess, “fuck me, master. Fuck my pussy. Fuck my ass. I am unworthy.”

“That much is true,” laughed Madreg, slapping his slimy cock on her ass and rubbing it into her crack against her twitching asshole.

She had lubed him nicely with her princess throat. He pressed the squirming head of his unholy cock against her pink divot. She finally lowed like a beast as he stuffed her ass full of his hardness.

“OOoooooOOOooo!”

He grabbed her wide hips and pounded into her hole without relent. There was no sympathy. No care. Just the raw animal heat of rutting her fat ass. His hips slapped her cheeks and her huge tits swung beneath her with the force of each thrust. He pounded her faster and faster, feeling the pleasure build as the heat grew in his cock. The scalding spunk in his misshapen bollocks began to churn once more.

“Are you ready for this, slut?” he wheezed, grabbing her hips tightly and hammering into her ass.

“P-please,” she cried. “Please, master! Cum for me! Cum for… for your cow!”

“Ha!” He exulted in her pathetic words, rising to his peak. He let the pleasure build and build, rushing through his body, until he could not stand to hold back the tide. With a roar of pleasure, he unloaded into her hungry ass. Spurt after spurt of intoxicating demonic spunk gushed into her bowels.

Madreg groaned, his thrusts slowing as he savored each pump of his seed. When he pulled out of her stretched ring, the greenish white spunk oozed out of her raw hole and dripped down her cunt.

“What do you say to that?” he gasped, giving her ass a hard swat.

“Th-thank you, master,” she moaned, her thick thighs quivering.

“You are most welcome, Kirsten,” he said, swatting her other buttock for symmetry. “I will be back in a week.”

He motioned for one of the orbs and it descended. He wiped his cock off on her buttocks and left her whimpering as the hoses were attached to finish draining her huge tits. In another week, he knew, she would be even bigger. Perhaps then he would finally breed her.

2

A Mirror Image of Her Desire

Kirsten Sungbaard skidded down the ramp, her loincloth torn away and her bare rear getting a bit of a friction burn from the descent. She hit the bottom and rolled across the darkened room. Light blossomed above her, glinting all around her as if striking a giant, multi-faceted diamond. She blinked away the stars from the impact and pushed herself up on her hands and knees.

It took her a full five-count to realize the sparkling light was not reflecting from a single source, but from many sources. Mirrors. Seemingly nearly a hundred of them, arrayed in a semicircle in a vast room of dark stone.

“This is new,” muttered Kirsten, managing to get to her feet and brushing dust and grit from her bare breasts.

When she took a step, she noticed her reflection moving in the mirrors as if they were wall turned to face her at every moment. The reflections moved like her, yes, but not exactly. She stopped in front of one of the mirrors and saw an image of herself with much bigger breasts. She reached up and touched her own tits and her reflection did the same. Only, not quite the same, because when her reflection squeezed its much-bigger breasts, the fat mounds squeezed between the reflection’s fingers.

“Huge tits,” chuckled Kirsten. “Not bad. But I don’t get what the point of this devil magic is.”

Her reflection mouthed the words along with her. Kirsten pinched her nipples and hefted her breasts. She lifted them painfully high and then let them drop back into face with a fleshy slap. They jiggled for about a moment afterward, but the massive, soft tits in her reflection kept wobbling for another full second after that.

“Hmmm. Interesting, but odd.”

She moved on to the next mirror and saw a much more muscular version of herself. She flexed her biceps and admired the giant bulge of this reflection’s musculature. She turned her back and looked over her shoulder to admire her well-defined back muscles and her round, muscular ass.

“I think the real one looks nicer,” she said, giving her ass a smack. She thought she saw her reflection frown for a second, but her attention had been focused on the muscular buns so she couldn’t be sure.

She saw stranger and stranger reflections of herself in the mirrors as she walked along the curve of the arrayed semicircle. The redhead version looked nice, but she was less sure about the version with cat ears, whiskers, and a curling white tail.

She continued to the next one and was stopped in her tracks. The reflection in this mirror looked completely identical to Kirsten but with one very major change: it had an enormous cock in place of her womanly mound. She stared in awe at the red and purpling member jutting from the groin of her doppelganger. It was thick and quite long, but also well-defined and, strangely, a little feminine. Something about the gentle tapering of the tip and those soft, hairless testicles.

“This is definitely new,” she said, stepping closer to the mirror and inspecting the penis. She touched herself in a pantomime of stroking the cock and her reflection gripped the cock and tugged its loose skin to the head of the cock before sliding the foreskin back again.

“It’s a very nice cock,” admired Kirsten, feeling a curious heat building between her legs. She reached her other hand farther back and watched the reflection fondle the dangling weights of her bollocks. “Well, well, those are big. I wonder if I can make her cum…”

The reflection suddenly stopped imitating Kirsten’s movements and smiled wide as it stepped towards the frame of the mirror. For a moment, her breasts and the palm of one hand were pressed and flattened to the mirror as if pressing against transparent glass.

“By the gods,” gasped Kirsten, stumbling back a step and falling on her bum.

The surface of the mirror rippled as though made from water and Kirsten’s futanari doppelganger emerged. One foot. One leg. Her cock. Her breasts. And then she was through, standing over Kirsten and smirking as she ran a hand down her flat abdomen and grasped the root of her thick cock.

“Is this what you wanted?” asked the doppelganger.

“What? I… I was just going to…”

“You were teasing me,” said the doppelganger, stepping over Kirsten’s legs and slowly wanking that magnificent cock. “Then you wondered if you could make me cum. Well, here is your chance, my dear. I want you to make me cum. I want to fill your hot little cunt with my seed.”

The doppelganger brought her glorious cock closer to Kirsten’s face. The fallen princess stared down that one-eyed serpent, entranced by its swollen cap and the shaft that seemed to go on forever before reaching the dangling bollocks. All of it hairless save for a tuft of blond just above the root.

“Go onnnnnn,” teased the doppelganger, rocking her hips and causing the cock to swing forward and brush against Kirsten’s cheek. “We can make so many Kirstens for Madreg. Each one like you. Each one so alluring and eager to please. Come on, Kirsten. Make it cum.”

The thought of producing babies for Madreg was horrifying. Kirsten recoiled and raised her arm to shield herself from that flopping, swinging cock. But then she looked at it again. That rounded, bulbous tip glistening as if with oil. That drop of precum welling from the thick hole. The ridge, the incredibly long and thick shaft, and those hairless, drooping bollocks. She stared. Her mouth watered.

Her lips parted.

Before Kirsten realized what she was doing, she had stuck out her pink tongue. Her doppelganger chuckled and rocked her hips forward again, her cock sliding onto that welcoming plank of muscle and easing between Kirsten’s lips. Kirsten knew she was damned the moment she tasted the tingling sweetness of the doppelganger’s precum on her tongue. It seemed to fizz against her tastebuds. As sweet as honey. As addicting as poppy’s milk.

“Mmmmmmmm!” she moaned with delight, tightening her lips around the swollen head of the doppelganger’s cock.

“Ohhhh, I knew you would have a taste for it,” moaned the futanari Kirsten, cradling the back of the real Kirsten’s head. “Suck it, my pet. Taste the nectar of my cock. Once you’ve had a mouthful, you won’t be able to resist my promise.”

The warm thickness of the doppelganger’s cock thrust deeper into Kirsten’s mouth. All she could think to do was suck. She slid her lips over the ridges and veins and popped them to the tip of that massive cock. Her hands caressed the slick shaft. Fondled the heavy bollocks. She moaned eagerly as she slurped and drooled on the cock that thrust from an exact duplicate of her own body.

It’s so wrong, thought Kirsten, so why can’t I stop? Because it’s delicious! Ohhhhh! I want more! I want to taste it!

“Naughty slut,” laughed the doppelganger as Kirsten wantonly slurped on her futa cock. “You really want it? Ah, but that would be wasting it, my dear. It’s time for me to breed that sweet little cunt. Are you ready?”

The doppelganger had to pull Kirsten off the cock by her hair to get her to answer the question.

“Y-yesss,” hissed Kirsten, still desperately stroking the cock, her mouth opening to suck it more.

“Good girl,” laughed the doppelganger and she shoved Kirsten onto her back on the floor. Before Kirsten could even think to resist, the doppelganger was atop her. Parting Kirsten’s thighs. Rubbing that futa cock against the hot folds of Kirsten’s pussy.

The doppelganger thrust forward and pounded the full length of her cock into Kirsten’s soaking pussy. She drew back and plowed deep again into her silken channel. Kirsten howled with pleasure, but her cry was stifled a moment later as the doppelganger pressed atop her and smashed a passionate kiss to Kirsten’s lips.

There was no resisting such depraved lust. Kirsten kissed Kirsten. Their moans mingling, lips devouring, and tongues intertwined as the doppelganger slowly but forcefully thrust the futa cock deep into Kirsten’s pussy.

Their breasts mashed tightly together. The hard buds of their nipples rubbed against each other. The doppelganger whispered into the kiss, “I feel it, Kirsten. Cum for me. Cum for me and I will pour my seed into you. Into that fertile womb. And you will never have to worry about anything again.”

“Nooo,” moaned Kirsten, jerking her hips in contradiction to the word. “No. Please. I don’t want to… mmmmm… be enslaved by Madreg.”

“Not enslaved,” whispered the doppelganger, punctuating each word with a thrust of her cock. “You will be freed by your new purpose.”

“Ohhhhhh!” Kirsten cried out, unable to deny the pleasure for a moment longer. The depraved pleasure of being fucked by herself. Being pounded deep in her aching cunt by a magnificent futa cock.

Her inner walls tensed and clutched against that throbbing length. Her toes curled and she thrust her body against her doppelganger. At the last moment, her legs wrapped around the doppelganger, drawing the futa cock deeper as Kirsten began to cum.

“Yesssss! Cummmmm!” cried the doppelganger and then silenced Kirsten’s cry of ecstasy with another hungry kiss. Their tongues were dueling still as Kirsten’s orgasm wracked her body. Wave after wave of pleasure rippling up from her depths and gripping the thrusting cock of the mirror Kirsten.

At the peak of the real Kirsten’s pleasure, her doppelganger erupted deep into her cunt. A hot tide of cum pulsing from that thick cock and filling Kirsten’s pussy. Pump after pump until she felt the hot, glowing release of her womb. An orgasm within an orgasm that propelled her to a new peak of pleasure and meant, with magical certainty, that the inner fortress of her womb belonged to the mirror Kirsten.

“You feel it now?” laughed the doppelganger as Kirsten moaned and bucked beneath her.

“Yess! Yes, my love! Yesss! Breed me! Claim my cunt for Madreg!” Joy replaced fear in Kirsten’s heart. Ecstasy substituted for pain. Her old life was over and a new and rapturous existence had only just begun.

She had been bred by the mirror doppelganger. Her womb had been claimed by a perfect, fat-cocked copy of herself.

Mirrored Epilogue

Kirsten Sungbaard was one of Madreg’s most valuable assets. By giving her womb to a mirror doppelganger – a creature of unholy unreality – she had guaranteed a nearly endless supply of agents for his growing empire.

Each child of Kirsten’s union to the futanari doppelganger was conceived and birthed in a matter of three days and each newborn Kirsten was identical to the mother. Madreg’s magic raised the infants to adulthood in a single day, instilling in them as they grew both his purpose and his authority. By the second day of their existence, they were smart enough to hold a conversation and obedient enough for his every desire, whether those desires were of a personal nature or in service of his empire.

The first pair of Kirstens became Madreg’s concubines. He gave one black hair to tell them apart and kept them near to his throne and his bed at all times. They would serve him gratefully at a moment’s notice. Some days he was cruel to them to punish their mother’s insolence. Most evenings he simply relaxed and let their eager bodies take away his worries.

But such luscious prizes were meant to be shared. He sent Kirstens out into the world to seduce his enemies and tame his allies. He granted his most prized lieutenants Kirstens for their own concubines and wives.

Soon these duplicates of the princess were birthing out all manner of monstrous crossbreeds. She was the horn of plenty for his empire. A fertile cunt and an eager body copied a hundred times. Soon it would be two hundred. Would the original Kirsten survive to see a thousand of her duplicates be born?

Madreg decided to check in on Kirsten upon the occasion of the raising of her two-hundredth daughter. He tied a red bow around that Kirsten’s fully grown and naked body and presented her to his troll bodyguard Grilmnor to be the hideous creature’s wife. The daughter smiled happily as the troll scooped her up and began kissing her. Madreg laughed and wished the new couple well. He knew that in minutes the troll would be plowing the virgin duplicate’s fertile cunt. By next month her belly would probably be fat with a half-troll.

Such was the way of Kirsten’s daughters. There was a waiting list for Kirstens among his loyal followers.

Madreg departed from the gifting ceremony and descended into the dungeon of his latest fortress. Kirsten had been moved there to keep her close. He could not permit such a valuable asset to be kept far away.

It had been more than two years since he had seen her. She had grown much in her time in the dungeon. Her skin was as pale as fresh snow and her hair was tangled and unwashed. She wore nothing but a soft robe over her ample curves. Her breasts had grown enormous from her constant magical pregnancies. Her nipples thick and dripping steadily with milk.

“Kirsten,” said Madreg, standing outside her spacious cell. “How are things, my dear?”

“Master? Is that you?” she lifted her head from the bed she was lounging upon.

“Yes, Kirsten,” he said, adding a sharpness to his rasping voice. “I expect a bit more respect from one I have cared for and nurtured at great expense.”

“Of course, forgive me, master,” said Kirsten, rolling out of the bed and crawling over to the bars of her cell.

Madreg smirked down at her as she knelt before him. She was still quite lovely even if she had gone fat with all the pregnancies. He reached through the bars and stroked her cheeks with a withered hand.

“Thank you for coming to see me, master,” she said, kissing his palm adoringly.

“Of course, Kirsten,” he said. “The truth is, you have done more for my empire than any single warrior or wizard in my army. Your daughters have proved invaluable tools of diplomacy and subterfuge. And such lovely companions.”

“Oh, thank you, master,” she said, tears welling in her eyes. “I only want to be of service to the cause.”

“I know,” he said, untying his robe and opening it up. His black cock slid through the bars. “Of course, there is something else you can do to service the cause.”

“Oh, yes, master,” she moaned. “Thank you!”

She took his vile cock in her hands and immediately began to pleasure him with her mouth. As the warm mouth of his defeated foe sucked upon his cock, Madreg savored the sweetness of his triumph over the girl.

She had been so arrogant and willful, now look at her: a mewling slut, sucking his cock for the reward of his foul, demon-tainted spunk. He laughed, cradling her head, feeling his vile balls tense as he began to spurt his filthy seed into her mouth. It would have poisoned most women, at least made them retch, but not Kirsten.

She was a well-trained slut for Madreg and she swallowed eagerly.

3

The Minotaur’s Cow

Madreg’s diabolical dungeon had revealed a new terror to me: a maze stalked by some snorting giant with the head of a bull. I catch glimpses of it as it pursues me through the turns of the maze. Sometimes I lose it, only to double back through the maze and see it again as I am searching for an exit.

The beast stands nearly ten feet tall, with the muscular body of a man and the head of a bull. He has cruel red eyes and is covered in short brown fur that only seems to enhance the musculature of his immense upper body. His lower legs and feet are like those of a bull but suited to a man’s frame. He has a huge cock, bigger than any man’s cock, mottled brown and pink, with a head as wide and flat as a fist. Massive bollocks dangle in a pink pouch beneath this enormous cunt-breaker.

I know what this minotaur will do with his cock if he catches me. He will stretch out my cunt and empty those huge bollocks into my womb and breed my royal cunt. He will enslave me by the magic of this place.

I must escape!

Turn after turn, I can hear the beast pursuing me. Snorting and growling. Hooves stomping after me as I flee. The passages are too convoluted. I can’t keep the turns correct in my mind until, at last, exhausted, I am cornered by the minotaur. Sweating, panting, my back against the wall, I weakly draw my sword to confront the giant beast. His baleful red eyes look down upon me.

“Stay back!” I warn, brandishing my blade.

“Kirsten Sungbaard,” growls the minotaur, his voice deep and filled with cruel amusement as his eyes travel over my bare, sweaty breasts and down to my hips. “Princess of Tarol. I will break your body if you resist me. Surrender your blade and offer yourself to me. It is your only hope.”

I see it in his eyes and know it in my heart. My battle is lost. I have been cornered by the minotaur without any hope of escape.

“I yield,” I whimper and toss aside my sword with a terrible clang of finality.

“A wise choice,” laughs the minotaur.

He saunters closer and stands above me like a fur-covered statue. His bestial smell fills my nostrils. The huge, mottled hose of his cock and his massive cum-filled bollocks hang only a foot or so lower than my face.

“Touch it,” he commands. “Touch it and make it ready for your breeding.”

He stands still and waits for me to obey. I have no choice. My face burns with shame as I heft his cock in both hands and begin to massage its length. The warm weight of it slowly filling with his arousal and stiffening to poke against my chest. The head rises to press against my face and the scent of him is overwhelming. Eye-watering. Arousing. I moan, cradling his cock against my shoulder and cheek. Licking it. Stroking it. Caressing his huge bollocks as he snorts with pleasure above me. He brings one massive hand down to my head as I lap at the tip of his cock and begin to taste the salty flavor of his bestial precum.

“Good,” his voice rumbles. “Now I will be sure you are ready for me.”

He picks me up with ease, flipping me upside down and tearing aside my loincloth with a pluck of his massive fingers. My bare cunt and ass are in his face. I am helpless in his grasp.

He thrusts his bovine muzzle between my thighs. Sniffing at me. Licking me. Oh, gods, his tongue is so wide and warm. Like a great soft washcloth caressing my folds. Pressing into my cunt. Licking my clenching anus. He licks again and again, tasting my nectar. My tight holes. Making my clit throb and my core ache for his beastly cock.

“Oooooohhh,” I croon, my body like a doll in his massive hands as he holds me upside down and devours my sweet cunt. His saliva drips down my body. His hot tongue bathes me with his lusty licks.

My whimpers of pleasure become cries. I writhe against his tongue and moan as his hot breath snorts over my loins. Just as I am on the brink of ecstasy, the minotaur casts me down upon the floor. On my hands and knees on the cold stones. My tits pressed beneath me. My face against the stones. Gasping and looking back over my shoulder as the huge minotaur kneels behind me. His immense cock slaps against my spit-damp ass. So heavy! So long! He rubs it down my crack and between my cheeks as his balls press against my cunt. So huge. So ominously heavy with his seed.

“Do it,” I moan. “Get it over with. Fuck me. Claim me. I know there is no other way.”

“You’re right,” chuckles the minotaur. “You are mine now, human. Soon you will be my breeding cow. My milk cow.”

“Your what?” I gasp, lifting my face from the floor.

He answers me with a thrust of his cock. His massive member plunging into my tight cunt and stretching me nearly to breaking. Tears of pain well in my eyes as the minotaur’s huge cock beats against the tender entrance to my womb. My cervix aches from the impact. My breath is stolen and I gasp to regain it.

The minotaur is not violent with me, at least not at first, but he is not gentle. He shoves his cock in and out of my stretched cunt, slowly, but gaining speed with every thrust. I’m being fucked down into the floor. Sweat drenches me and tears pour from my eyes. His huge, muscular body dominates mine as his cock plunders my pussy faster and faster. His balls swing and slap against me. The straining agony of my stretched cunt becoming a dull ache. Becoming pleasure.

“OooooooOOOOOOooooh,” I moan, already sounding a bit like a cow.

The minotaur laughs and fucks me even harder. He grabs a handful of my hair and bows my back. He slams into me as I manage to push up on my hands. My tits swinging and slapping against my ribcage as he hammers in and out of my slick pussy. As he snorts. As he bellows with his pleasure.

His cock throbs inside me and beats against my inner walls. He roars again, louder, and his seed thunders up his shaft. I wail with ecstasy as hot minotaur cum baptizes my womb. The moment his hot, potent sperm reaches my womb, I am cursed. To love him. To experience pleasure like nothing I have ever known before.

“YESSSSSSS!” I wail, thrusting back as the minotaur’s thick cum overflows my tight young cunt. Spurt after spurt flooding me and drenching my womb and pouring down my quivering thighs. He empties his load into my pussy and then lets me slide off his cock and back down onto my face on the floor. My ass raised and my gaping cunt dripping with his cum.

“Good cow,” he chuckles, stroking my sweaty buttocks. “Soon you will be ready to milk.”

“Yes,” I whimper, my thighs shaking. My body near collapse. “Yes, master.”

When I have recovered enough to move, the minotaur slings me over his shoulder and carries me to Madreg. The mad wizard grants the minotaur ownership of me, laughing at my fate as I am carried away by my new master. The minotaur is given a farmstead on land that used to belong to my family. A house and a stable. A milk barn. A place where I will birth and raise his children.

Where I will give him all the milk he desires.

Each day I cook and clean for him wearing nothing but an apron. I serve him meals and when he is done eating, I serve his cock. Stroking it with my growing breasts – for they seem to grow larger and heavier each day – and pleasuring him with my hands and my mouth. To be fucked full of my master’s seed is my greatest pleasure, but to be drenched in it or to drink it is almost as wonderful. I slurp at his heavy bollocks and tongue the drooling tip of his cock. I can fit my mouth over the very tip if I try and allow my hands to work the shaft. With enough effort, master will reward me with a great bellyful of his hot seed, more delicious than any stew I could cook and in such a great quantity.

I sleep in his arms, curled against his huge, furry body. When he stirs, I feel his cock between my creamy thighs. Rubbing against my cunt until I am moaning and softly pleading for him to fuck me.

Oh, but master does love to fuck me! Against a fence post with my tits swinging. In the kitchen bent over the sink. On the table. On the floor. Pounding my trained pussy with that huge, throbbing pillar of his cockflesh. Pounding me again and again until he pumps my pussy full of his seed. There is no pleasure greater and no man will ever satisfy me again. My cunt yearns only for master’s huge bull cock.

Day after day, my breasts continue to grow. They seem much larger than any woman’s breasts I have ever seen before and they feel so taut and heavy. My nipples too are growing larger. Thickening and darkening slightly from pink to almost red. Master likes to play with my breasts and lick at my nipples. He promises me soon I will be ready for my first milking.

“You are so beautiful, my lovely Kirsten cow,” he says, caressing my breasts with his huge hands as I lay beside him int the enormous bed he has built for us to share. “I can smell your milk now. Ready to burst forth, if only I give your breasts a suck. But Madreg requires the milk for his war. He needs a hucow to milk and I will give him most of your cream or he will take you from me.”

“Perhaps… perhaps if you sucked them a little,” I say, squeezing my huge mounds together and pushing them towards master’s muzzle. “Some licks. Some sucks. It would give me relief. They hurt all the time now, master. They feel so heavy. Please…. Suck them.”

I see that reproachful look in his red eyes. I know he is going to scold me for asking too much of him. Then, to my surprise, his huge pink tongue slides out and runs warm and wet over my stiff nipples. I cry out with pleasure. His huge lips press to my right breast and the heat of his mouth engulfs my areola and fat, straining teat.

He sucks! Oh, gods, such pleasure! I cum with the first gush of my milk into master’s mouth. I cum hard, bucking my hips and touching myself desperately with my fingers as finally the pressure is relieved by sucking. Greedily, I bend my other breast to my mouth, engulfing my nipple and sucking at my own tit before master can tell me not too. The cream is warm and thin and sweet. I suck and gulp as it flows into my mouth and master does the same to my other breast. We are joined together, nursing at my breasts, his cock hardening against me.

“MMMmmmmpphmmm,” I moan around my spurting nipple as master rumbles with pleasure. He shifts his hips and parts my thighs. His huge cock presses at my entrance.

We keep suckling from my laden tits as he slides inside my pussy. Pleasure rumbles through him as he hilts his cock inside my well-trained cunny. I how with pleasure, milk drooling down my chin. Master lifts his mouth from my nipple and kisses me, sharing my milky sweetness on his tongue. His mouth much bigger than mine, but he knows how to kiss me now. Our tongues caressing. The hot saliva and milk mingling as he pushes me onto my back and takes me face-to-face.

Gods, he never fucks me like this. I love it when he does. I throw my legs around his powerful body and beg him, “Deeper! Please, fuck me deeper!”

His huge cock almost punching into my womb. Stretching my cunt wider and wider. Massive bollocks thumping against my ass. His cock swells. Milk spurts from my nipples as I squeeze my breasts beneath him. Milk droplets spraying down his furry chest and abdomen.

“Cum! Cum for me, my love!” I cry.

“Good cow!” he snorts. He bellows with his bestial pleasure and his huge cock jerks and twitches as it pounds into my stretched cunt. Spurt after spurt of minotaur cum hoses down my womb and overflows my stretched pussy. Oozes down my ass and over my twitching asshole. I shudder with my own ecstasy, cumming yet again as he pours his seed into me. Always so much. Always overflowing my little human cunt.

“Thank you, my love,” I wail, still cumming on his spurting cock. Squeezing him dry. Wringing out every hot, slimy droplet of his minotaur cream.

“Tomorrow,” he pants. “Tomorrow you will begin milking for Madreg.”

The next day, master lets me sleep in and recover from the hard fucking he gave me the night before. He awakens me well after dawn and tells me to have a bath and join him in the barn. When I arrive in a clean apron, master leads me to a stall and a strange wooden stand.

“You will put your legs over this here,” he says, gesturing to the stand with a cradle for my upper body. “You place your breasts here and your udders will hang down.”

“You will milk them into a pail?” I ask, imagining my master’s big strong hands tugging on my fat nipples and making my cream spurt down into a metal pail.

“No, no, my love,” he says. “Madreg has something much better for milking out every drop. Now you get comfortable on the stand. I will go and fetch the milker.”

I spread my legs and straddle the stand, leaning forward to drape my breasts over the curved cut-outs on the cross beam. My tits hang heavily. The wooden beam is a bit uncomfortable at first, but I shift around until I find a good pose to support the weight of my breasts. I notice how straddling the stand exposes my pussy and ass completely. Will master fuck me while I’m being milked? I hope so.

I hear master coming. I tense and arch my back to present myself to him even better. He ignores my cunt though and walks around to my face. A strange silvery sphere floats beside him.

“What is this?” I ask.

“The milker,” says the minotaur. “Relax, my sweet cow. It will handle everything.”

There is a sudden uncoiling of metal on the floating sphere. Suddenly, twin serpents of metal lash out at me and soft, translucent cups engulf my nipples and press rings into the dangling mounds of my breasts. I cry out as a strong suction pulls at my nipples. It is not constant, but rises and falls rhythmically like the insistent suckling of a tot. Milk spurts from my left nipple and then, a moment later, my right, filling the cup. The milk is drained from the cup with the next suck and more spurts out.

The pleasure is intense. I whimper and coo as the machine sucks greedily at my tits. Spurt after spurt, the small machine somehow gulping down vast quantities of my white cream. Each spurt feels amazing. My thighs quake and I grind against the stand.

“Good girl,” says my master. “It’s alright, my cow. You can do what comes naturally.”

“Fuck me, please,” I moan.

“Of course,” he chuckles.

I tremble and tense as master moves behind me. I feel his cockhead rubbing at my thighs and cunt. Rubbing at the tight clench of my ass. I moan and push back against him. Pleading him with my body for his stiffening length. I am soaking wet. I can feel my juices dripping out of me onto the stand. The sucking machine is driving me mad with lust.

“Pleaaaaaseeee!” I moan. “Moooooooooooo!”

Did I just “moo”? Yes, it came out so naturally. It felt good. I do it again, “Moooo! Mooooooooo!”

“That’s it,” laughs my master. “Moo for your bull. Moo for me while I fuck that tight milk cow cunt.”

He thrusts into me and my tits gush milk into the suckling cups of the machine. It can barely keep up with the milk that spurts out each time my master slides his huge cock to the hilt into my cunt. He holds my slender waist and pounds my pussy with steady, powerful strokes. His cock becomes a huge piston, stirring inside me and forcing more and more milk out of my breasts as they swing and bounce in the stand.

“Yes, that’s it,” laughs my master. “Give up your milk. Feed the machine. Feed it all my sweet milk cow. Madreg’s army is thirsty. He will need many more cows like you to feed his war effort. I will bring them here and fuck them and milk them all.”

“Moooooooo!” I reply, feeling my pleasure rise to a new an exquisite peak. “Not simply cumming, but feeling my mind dulling as I surrender to what I really am. Not a mate or a wife to the minotaur. But one of his cows. A breeder and a milk cow. A simple, milk-spurting, cum-filled milk cow. “MmoooooooooOOOooo!”

I laugh as I cum and I feel master’s cock pulsing inside me, spurting out a massive load of his hot seed. Drenching my womb and causing the last of my milk to finally drain from my softened breasts. My cream swallowed up by the machine. The cups popping free and leaving deep red-rings marked on my white breasts. I pant and whimper, my cunt twitching around my master’s cock as he empties the last of his load deep inside me.

“Good girl,” he snorts. “Good milk cow. Now come back to the house with me, my sweet. You will prepare me lunch. Perhaps after supper you will have enough milk for another milking.

Exhausted, but smiling, I slowly rise from the milking stand. I want to thank him for helping me realize my true purpose in life. To tell him how much I appreciate all he has done for me.

But the only word I can speak is, “Mooooooooooooo!”

4

Bred by the Star Orcs

Everything changed the moment Kirsten Sungbaard stepped through the door. It was just like all the others in Madreg’s dungeon. There had been a wooden door, scuffed and creaking as she pulled it open. A cool, darkened room beyond. She waited a moment at the threshold of the door, feeling an unusual chill in the air, but hearing nothing. She ventured through the door and found herself somewhere else entirely.

Flashing red light appeared as if by magic from a glass dome upon the ceiling. She was no longer in a room at all, but in a long corridor that seemed to be made from metal or perhaps some sort of polished white stone. There were odd pipes and unrecognizable symbols printed on the walls. Everything was constructed with the precision of a temple and yet it all seemed scuffed and worn. Steam hissed from a vent and there was an odd smell in the air. Like sweat and blood.

Kirsten gripped her sword and advanced beneath the flashing red lights. A line of glass domes affixed to the ceiling contained the magical lights for as far as Kirsten could see. She heard a rumble from all around her, like the clatter of a great water wheel, and felt a shudder run through her feet. The lights in the domes flickered and the long hallway heaved like the deck of a storm-tossed ship.

“This is no place watched by the gods,” she muttered, her apprehension growing. “Where have I been flung by that mad wizard’s magic?”

She reached a door that cycled open as she approached and revealed a wide chamber with tables affixed to the floor and chairs scattered haphazardly around the room. She entered cautiously, smelling moldering food and noticing strange machinery. She recognized some sort of dining hall by the cutlery strewn about the floor. Whatever built this place had roughly human hands judging by the forks and knives.

Another rumble shook the floor, this time much nearer. It was followed a moment later by an explosion in the hallway outside the dining hall. She turned just as the door slid open. Smoke belched through the door and a hulking green brute stepped it into the room.

An orc! Bulkier and slightly greener than the orcs she had met before, but definitely an orc, with a bald head, pointed ears, and savage tusks jutting from its huge, squared jaw. Its beady red eyes flashed with fury when it saw Kirsten standing with her sword.

Her instinct was to fight or run, but she knew orcs to be reasonable under some circumstances. She hoped that if she appeared friendly, she might be able to parley with the brute.

“Greetings,” she said. “Does this place belong to you?”

“Dragk! Grokoo dorbo ug dug!” The orc’s snarled words meant nothing to Kirsten, but she understood his intent was not friendly as he advanced on her with a strange boxy object held in one hand and some sort of clamp held in the other.

She raised her sword to defend herself far too late. The orc batted the weapon from her hands with the boxy object and thrust the clamp hard enough against Kirsten’s throat to knock the breath from her. She reached up as the clamp snapped shut and clicked tightly around her neck. Something pulsed in her brain and when the orc spoke again she could understand him.

“You belong to Boss Ugmar now,” he snarled, his huge mouth splitting into a yellow-toothed grin. “You be good fuck slave. Use you up or sell you. Maybe good breeder.”

The orc’s words buffeted her face with its hot, rank breath. It shoved her back against the nearest wall and hung its boxy weapon from its belt to grab Kirsten’s breasts with one huge hand. It palmed them each in turn. Squeezing and testing them like a man at market roughly testing the fruit. The orc’s thick fingers plucked at her nipples. Tugging and twisting them and making Kirsten whimper with pain.

And pleasure.

The orc was huge and muscular and she could see the immense swelling in its patchwork trousers. Her gaze followed its hand as it released her breasts and reached for its belt. The strap parted and it yanked open the laces of its trousers. An immense green hose of cock fell free and hung heavily atop a massive pair of bollocks.

“Gods,” gasped Kirsten and the collar clamped around her neck made a sound that she realized was orc speech.

“No gods,” growled the orc. “Only orc. Only master. I Morgo. I test you out first for boss. You be good, maybe I not break both arms.”

“W-what do you want from me?” asked Kirsten, but she already knew. The orc’s fat cock slowly swelling told her all she needed to know of its desires.

There was a click and the collar around her neck detached from the pole the orc was holding. She felt to her knees on the floor and felt a tingling in her neck that sent warm pulses through her body. An urge to submit to the will of the followed each pulse. It was magic tainting her mind. Enslaving her to the orc’s beastly desires.

She looked up at him as his cock began to rise.

“Suck,” he commanded.

There was no denying him. The fat green cock hardened before her eyes, its bulbous tip almost pinkish in color at the end of its thick green shaft that darkened as it reached its huge bollocks. She grasped its cock in both hands, letting out a moan as she felt the throbbing heat of it against her palms. The orc growled as Kirsten leaned forward, lips parting, tongue reaching out until she tasted the first salty hint of its flesh. Her tongue traced the shape of its glans. The underside and its delicate bumps. She opened her lips wider to engulf the orc’s fat cockhead.

“Suck more!” snarled the orc, grabbing a handful of Kirsten’s blond hair and thrusting his cock into her mouth. Forcing her jaw open. Thrusting against her tonsils and down her throat. Her eyes widened. Tears trickled down her cheeks. She fought to breathe around the thick orc cock stuffed down her throat.

The orc wasn’t waiting for her to adjust. He drew back his hips, his cock trailing mucus as it slid most of the way out of her mouth. Then he thrust in again, gagging her on his cock, balls slapping her chin as he buried his cock in her throat.

“Goood cock sleeve,” growled the orc, his grip tightening on Kirsten’s hair. He fucked her throat with intense thrusts, hilting his cock in her mouth with each stroke and pressing her nose to his abdomen. She felt as if his massive green hose was reaching down into her chest with each stroke. Prodding at the entrance to her stomach. Smothering her lungs as it bulged inside her throat.

“MGGGgggrrrrkkkk!” she cried, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her face red and nose bubbling with mucus. Faster and faster, he banged into her throat. Fucking her relentlessly.

And the collar pulsed, sending signals to her brain that she was enjoying this. Enjoying being used. Fucked. Owned.

“RRRRRRRAAAAAAA! TAKE SEEED!” bellowed the orc, hilting once more in Kirsten’s mouth. This time he held her head there, his cock bulging and twitching.

Warmth and a sense of fullness began to fill her belly. She swallowed around the orc’s pulsating cock, massaging the shaft with her throat muscles, and milking his hot load into her stomach. He filled her with his sloshing seed. A thick, hot meal of his cock’s broth.

He held her for long seconds until he was satisfied, then yanked her head up and slid his cock free of her dripping mouth. She gagged and gasped, cum and mucus drooling from her chin and connecting her lips to his slimy cock.

“Now! On feet!” commanded the orc, yanking her up by her hair. She stood and wiped her face on the back of her arm. The orc motioned and she felt compelled to follow as he walked back out into the smoky hallway.

Kirsten staggered behind the orc as further explosions rocked the hallway. Worse than the raw throat or the humiliation of what had just happened was the feeling that she had enjoyed it. That a part of her wanted more. She found herself reaching for her loincloth more than once and had to yank her hand away. She wanted to touch herself. The collar pulsed its encouraging warmth through her body.

Morgo marched Kirsten through the corridors of what she began to realize was a vast ship. It was only as they neared a group of orcs like Morgo that she finally understood they were among the stars. The orcs were gathered near an enormous window, a huge yellow-brown planet visible below and a crisp field of stars all around. Another ship was grappled alongside the vessel they were in and its appearance was crude and ugly by comparison. A ship formed of barrel-shaped thrusters, plates of scrap, and leering orc faces wrought of red-painted iron.

“We go aboard Death Wreckka,” growled Morgo. “Give you to Boss Ugmar.”

If Kirsten had ever bothered to have any hope, it would have been surely dashed when she went aboard the orc ship and met Boss Ugmar. The orc seemed twice the size of Morgo and wore a peaked cap decorated with a skull and crossbones. He had one huge golden tusk and a patch over one eye. His left leg seemed to be made of rusty iron.

“Slut,” he growled, standing over Kirsten. “I breed slut. Make more orcs in belly. Come!”

He grabbed Kirsten by her arm and dragged her into another room. Perfumed and lit red with lanterns, it was a parody of a harem room with wide couches and piles of cushions. Boss Ugmar threw Kirsten down onto one of the piles and tossed off his leather storm coat. She stared up at him as he unbuckled and yanked down his trousers.

Boss Ugmar’s cock was hideous. Huge and lumpy and scarred as if it had been shot or stabbed. It was twice the size of Morgo’s. A drooping pillar of thick orc flesh. It stank as he waved it in Kirsten face.

“Make ‘ard!” he commanded.

Her resistance was non-existent. Kirsten fell to her knees in complete surrender to the orc and began to worship his disgusting cock. The scent of it and the scarred look of it could not deter her as she cradled it against her soft breasts and began to lick and stroke it. Soon enough, she had coaxed it to full attention, running her tongue around its fist-sized tip and lapping at the leaking pre.

“’Nuff!” snarled Boss Ugmar. “Make fukka fukka now! Make baby orcs!”

“Yesssss,” cried Kirsten. “Breed me… master!”

He tore her loincloth from her body and thrust two fingers into the hot folds of her cunt. His thick fingers probed deep, but she was well-slicked from pleasuring two orcs. Ugmar grunted with satisfaction and rolled Kirsten onto her hands and knees. The hot log of his cock thumped over her ass and lower back. Huge and menacing. He pushed down on her head, driving it into the cushions and causing her to lift her hips.

Then, with a lusty growl, the massive orc impaled Kirsten on his cock. It stole the breath from her. Stretched her cuntlips wide and drove to her womb, pressing her backwalls upwards as though he might tear through them and into her guts. Her stunned howl was buried in the cushions. Boss Ugmar, feeling her cunt tighten reflexively, began to rut.

His massive cock plundered Kirsten and pummeled her womb. His huge balls swung against her clit, driving jolts of pleasure into her to offset the pain. Only, it was not pain, but a satisfying fullness. Stretching, belly bulging as she was fucked harder and harder by the huge orc. Used as his plaything. His fucktoy.

His cocksleeve.

“OoOoooOOOOooo,” crooned Kirsten, unable to do much more than receive the orc’s mighty strokes in her tortured twat.

Faster and faster, the massive Boss Ugmar grunting behind her, bearing his weight down on her as his cock began to swell deep in her cunt. Precum overflowing her folds. Dripping down her thighs. Churning to a frothy white that smeared his shaft as he drove harder. Faster. Spanking his scarred hips against her pale ass. She squeezed him with her cunt as her orgasm drew near.

“FFFFFFFUUUUUUCK!” roared Boss Ugmar. “Take seed, slut!”

She began to cum just before the massive orc. At the peak of her ecstasy, shuddering and quaking around him, he drove deep into her and his cock began to erupt. A tide of orc cum spurted into her depths and drowned her womb, breeding her and forever condemning her to a life of orc servitude. She howled with ecstasy as she felt the mark upon her permit the orc cum to instantly take hold. Rapturous, she collapsed beneath Boss Ugmar as he emptied his huge load deep into her cunt.

This was only the beginning for Kirsten and her servitude among the orcs. For several days and night, Boss Ugmar kept her in his quarters, using her whenever he pleased. Cruelly fucking her face, her ass, and her stretched cunt. Drenching her in his seed and, when she didn’t fuck good enough, smacking her and leaving bruises.

When Ugmar tired of her, she was sent to the pleasure deck, where she joined other female slaves in pleasuring the orcs. She bathed them with her body in the steam box. She fucked them in the brothel pits. And she spent days in the pleasure holes, where she offered her mouth or cunt to every orc cock that was thrust through the holes.

She loved every moment of it, savoring each load of orc cum and each spurting cock. She grew heavy with Boss Ugmar’s spawn and was finally marked with a tattoo as a breeder and sent down to the nursery. There, in comparative leisure, she was permitted to grow fatter so long as she let the orcs milk her swollen tits for their meals. Her young were born and straight away she was back to the pleasure holes. She never knew the father of her next children. Just another anonymous orc cock thrust through a hole in the wall, filling her with cum and planting his seed.

Kirsten scarcely saw her children. Each time she gave birth, they were torn from her arms and then raised in the ways of the orc. There were enough half-breeds that they formed their own mobs among Boss Ugmar’s clan. Clever, small orcs. Making machines and fixing the ship.

Kirsten didn’t mind losing her children, it meant she could spend more time focusing on the pleasure. She craved nothing more than to serve her orc masters.

She was their breeding slave and their fucktoy for as long as her body would endure their sadistic treatment. And she loved every moment of it.

5

A Princess for a Demon Prince

Kirsten Sungbaard had lost all sense of direction. The underground depths of Madreg’s dungeon seemed endless and each new way she turned she encountered another horror. She had fended off countless monsters and defied deadly traps, leaving her scrapped and grimy, a little less of a lady, but mostly unharmed. She brandished her trusty weapon, all too aware of the fact that her plump, sweat-slicked breasts were fully exposed. In fact, she was almost completely naked and getting more naked by the hour as she fought her way through tearing claws and grabbing hands.

She hadn’t fell a bit of hope for a while, but her spirit remained unbroken. She would not give Madreg the satisfaction of losing her will. She would fight him and his perverted minions to her dying breath.

She stumbled from the rocky corridor into a larger chamber seemingly carved from the earth by a single bite of massive jaws. She didn’t like to imagine the creature with jaws that big.

The room was hotter than the rest of the dungeon and humid too. A thin mist drifted across the glistening rocks that littered the floor. Across the room, a huge edifice gleamed. A massive brass door. Kirsten approached and realized the mist was steam rising from the door’s surface. Was this the way out? Some part of her knew the answer to that, but she could not go back and face all those horrors she had already witnessed.

“The only way is forward,” she resolved. She grasped the door’s huge handle, braced her feet, and pulled with all her strength. Her sweaty tits jiggled and shook as her muscles tensed and she bent her entire body to the task of swinging open the massive door. Its hinges creaked and as it began to open an ominous red light spilled into the chamber. Baking heat enveloped Kirsten as red light bathed her shapely curves. The door groaned and swung wider. Wide enough for Kirsten to stumble through.

She found herself in a palace of brass. Appointed in red velvet and furnished with antique chairs, tables, and black, red-veined marble. Every fixture was brass. Every tapestry was vivid and red and depicted some terrible battle of demons devouring humans or slaughtering angels. Beside her stood a statue of an angel being held by her wings, her body bent forward and contorted in shame as an enormous, scorpion-tailed demon ravished her blessed holes with a double phallus.

“What accursed place is this?” moaned Kirsten.

The door boomed shut behind Kirsten. A boom that echoed throughout the palace. A boom that for all its finality sent a cold shock of fear through Kirsten’s body. The sound like a cannon shot crashing through the marble halls of the blasphemous palace.

The demon appeared in a flash of flame and thick black smoke. He was twice as tall and twice as wide as any man Kirsten had ever seen. His red flesh bulged with layers of unholy muscles, a powerful barrel chest, muscles corded together at his shoulders, reaching down his arms in bundles and bulging from his thighs. He wore brass bangles and a furry loincloth that ill-concealed the huge size of his demonic cock. His lower legs were those of a bull and a bull’s horns curved from above the red-skinned face of a man contorted in anger.

It was the scorpion tail curling over one shoulder and dripping with brown venom that made Kirsten at last realize that this was the demon depicted violating the angel in the statue.

“Castigoroth,” moaned Kirsten, realizing this abomination could be none other than the demon prince that Madreg sought to summon.

His huge mouth split into a leering smile. His fangs white against the dark red of his lips.

“You dare speak my name, mortal?” He chuckled. “You were fool enough to enter my palace and now you seek to bind me to you by speaking my name? Some might say you are brave. But it is reckless, my lovely mortal. You will find no mercy here.”

“Stay back!” she cried, brandishing her weapon.

Castigoroth let out a booming laugh that shook Kirsten and forced her to retreat a step. The towering demon swung his claw lazily and knocked the weapon from Kirsten’s hand. It clanged off the marble and skidded into the plinth beneath his statue.

Too far out of reach to help her now.

“I will never yield to your—” Kirsten’s words of defiance were interrupted by Castigoroth wrapping a huge, clawed hand around her midsection. He lifted her into the air above him, so close that the flaming crown that hovered above his head nearly scorched her feet.

“Put me down, beast!” she cried.

“What? You would come all this way without knowing the pleasures of a demon prince?”

He laughed again and Kirsten whimpered as the booming sound shuddered through her body. He ignored her kicking feet and lowered her parted legs over his upturned face. He breathed deeply of her most intimate scent and ran his long, black tongue over the folds of her cunt. His tongue was hot to the touch and dripped with a slime that seemed to melt into Kirsten’s skin.

“Oohhhhhh… what are you… stop that! Don’t do that!”

The demon ignored her and thrust his tongue deep into her saucy cunt. The thrust of his tongue was like a tentacle reaching all the way to her womb. He sampled her deepest nectar and rumbled with pleasure. It felt so good that she whimpered with perverse disappointment when his tongue slithered back out of her pussy.

“A fertility curse,” growled the demon prince. “Madreg is a sick old fool. Mmmmm. But you taste too sweet to be cast aside to my minions. At least not yet. I shall put that curse to use!”

Castigoroth slammed the beautiful princess face down on the stone floor. The impact knocked the wind out of her, but she managed to push herself up on her hands as knees as the demon prince tore aside his own loincloth.

She was sickened by the sight of his demonic cock. It seemed as big as her arm, a throbbing, fleshy pillar that was crimson and purple and almost black at its oozing crown. The very tip was flared like a beast’s cock. The shaft was corded with pulsating veins.

“No, not tthhaaaAAAAHHHH!!” Kirsten screamed as Castigoroth plunged his monstrous member into her steamy cunt. He hilted inside her, his huge bollocks slamming against her. He drew back and thrust again, relentless and cruel, his hand on the back of her head mashing her face into the marble floor. Her tits squeezed to the cold stone. Her ass raised by his other hand.

Kirsten felt as if her body was being turned inside out. Her abdomen bulged. Each backstroke of the demonic cock was clutched tightly by her pink inner walls. It left her breathless, but she still managed to scream when Castigoroth roared with his pleasure and unleashed an almost scalding flood of black seed deep into her core. It sprayed her womb in powerful spurts. It drenched her cursed cunt in his potent spunk.

And she was claimed. The symbol engraved on her flesh began to glow and pleasure overtook any pain or fear. A strange, adoring ecstasy hat made her pussy convulse around Castigoroth’s massive cock as if she were trying to milk him with each contraction.

He emptied his twitching demon bollocks into her cunt and then unsheathed his cock from her cunt with a slurp. Frothy, black demon cum boiled out of her depths. Her gasping clench squeezed more out and it plopped obscenely onto the floor.

“You will birth my sons,” pronounced Castigoroth. “My generals. Then you will serve my armies. My warriors. You will be my pleasure slave, human, and you will never taste freedom again. Now… clean up the mess you have made.”

“Y-yes, master,” gasped Kirsten, pale and sweaty from the exhausting fucking. The demon prince watched her bend her face to the puddle on the floor and begin to lick up his cum. When she had cleaned the marble with her long licks and slurps, he presented his dripping cock to her and she cleaned that too. Of course, it only made him want to fuck her more, which began the whole filthy process again.

Hours of being pounded into the floor, sucking and riding him until she was dizzy, and wanking his massive cock between her tits left Kirsten exhausted. She curled upon the floor in a fresh puddle of the demon’s cum. Her body covered in small scrapes and friction burns. A dazed smile on her face.

“I love you, master,” she moaned.

“Mmmmmm.” The sound rumbled from deep within the demon prince as he loped away into his palace.

Castigoroth’s servants came for her. They were bald, hunched, green and black things with roughly humanoid shape but the slimy flesh of amphibians. They wore tattered uniforms and they scooped Kirsten up and bore her to a steam bath.

Kirsten’s life as a princess and a free woman was over. She was no bride to Castigoroth. She was a womb and a cunt to be used for his pleasure. To serve him and pleasure him. As his sons grew within her, Kirsten’s adoration for Castigoroth only grew.

The night after her impregnation, she attended him in his bedroom. Her body oiled and scented. Her curved scarcely hidden by sheer carves. She danced for him and stroked him. She writhed against him as he watched. Her kisses traveled the length of his tumorous cock.

Her lips stretched wide to take him into her mouth. She sucked and pressed against him. Her eyes watered and her jaw ached from the effort. Castigoroth offered no compliment. He reclined on his huge bed, among cushions of red silk, watching lazily as she slurped and thrust her soft tits against his cock. Riding up and down. Her pained eyes begging for his cum.

Cum which Castigoroth gave to her in a gushing, overflowing geyser. A pumping hose of his seed poured into her stomach and bulged her belly with his sloshing warmth. Each gulp of his demonic cum sent ripples of slavish pleasure through her body. She adored him as he pumped her stomach with his torrential orgasm.

Castigoroth used her cunt for three days on end. A mortal in a mortal realm would have surely perished, but the palace allowed Kirsten to recover after each ruinous fucking delivered by the pumping piston of the demon prince’s cock. He left her twisted and smothered in cum each night. Each morning the servants came and bore her away to the steam baths.

On her tenth night as Castigoroth’s slave, Kirsten celebrated a victory on the battlefield with twelve other slave girls. They crowded into Castigoroth’s beds, their silver collars clinking and their oiled bodies writhing against the demonic prince. He thrust his tongue into their mouths. Their cunts. Their asses. They squeezed his cock among their cooing mass. Pressing kisses to it. Rubbing their soft breasts up and down his cock until he fountained onto them, coating them in inky black splashes of his seed.

He fucked them, one after another, plowing pussies and asses and throats until all thirteen women collapsed, exhausted and filthy, on his bed. He left them like that to go feast and the servants soon trundled into the room with carts to carry off Kirsten and the other slaves.

Kirsten later learned that two did not survive the encounter. Well, one of those two did, but her body was too broken to resume her duties as a pleasure slave and she was sent off to be mounted in a wall for use as a public fuckhole. Kirsten wondered if such a fate might await her. She decided she would enjoy it if being a living pleasure pot for demons was how she spent eternity.

It was fifty days or perhaps a hundred before Kirsten began to realize that she was no longer special to Castigoroth. He had begun his conquest of the mortal realm and there were more beautiful slave girls to serve him than ever before.

That meant Kirsten was often used for entertainment. One evening, as his generals feasted on roasted elephants, Kirsten was brought out to dance and then was turned over to the demonic hellhounds. The snarling demon beasts could walk upright and even talk, but at Castigoroth’s bidding they reveled in their bestial instincts and fucked Kirsten with complete abandon. She satisfied one hellhound after another, until her cunt was stretched by their knots and her pussy was dripping with their seed.

She wished it was Castigoroth fucking her, but that was her only disappointment. She saw him watching her at some points during the evening and that was reward enough to endure far greater indignities.

Years passed. Castigoroth conquered nations and the mortal world trembled before his advancing armies. Kirsten gave birth to three sons from two pregnancies. Her body, much plumper and more laden with milk, was devoted to serving in her master’s dairy. Day and night, the milk larvae were brought into the dairy to drain the breasts of the countless wives of Castigoroth. The fat grubs crawled beneath Kirsten’s dangling teets and latched to her swollen nipples. They sucked her milk with powerful slurps and their translucent bodies filled and swelled with her cream like ticks drinking fresh blood. When one finished, it went trundling off, its body bloated with milk as it carried it deeper into the dairy.

This daily routine did not end Kirsten’s other duties. She cleaned, she cooked, and she was duty bound to fuck any demon that required her attention. From a lowly ratch, to a devious imp, to balrogs, spitwiks, and barbatzos. Kirsten was eager to serve. She sucked and fucked any demon that needed pleasure. The more hideous or disturbing, the harder she tried to make the ugly demon feel appreciated.

Kirsten’s breasts had swollen to several times their original size and she had birthed a litter of hellhounds when Castigoroth called her back to his bed.

“Ah, my bold princess,” he chuckled as she entered his bedroom in her costume of sheer scarves. “Does the dairy suit you?”

“Anything you desire suits me, master,” she purred, climbing onto the bed beside him and pressing her milky tits against his massively muscular chest.

“Tonight, I will make a daughter with you,” rumbled Castigoroth. “I have never made a daughter before. I think one would make a fine ruler of one of the conquered countries.”

“Oh, yes, master,” moaned Kirsten excitedly. “A she-demon will grant you a different perspective and I am proud to help you—OH!”

Castigoroth was done talking with her. He slammed Kirsten on her back onto the bed and took her almost like a husband might take his wife. Only he was several times her size and his cock was big enough to tear her in half. But he did not. He fucked her hard, without mercy, but he did not do irreparable harm.

She howled with ecstasy as he came inside her. Every nerve in her body spasming as his cum pumped into her and bred her once more. She somehow knew this would be the final time and she clung to him.

“Oh, master, I love you,” she cried.

“Mmmmmmm,” replied Castigoroth, not even looking down at her as his cum continued to pump into Kirsten’s stretched pussy.

Whether fate would end with her as a dairy cow, a mother of demonic monsters, or a broken fuckhole locked into the wall, one thing was certain: Kirsten’s adventure was at an end.