Fertile in My Ex-Boyfriend's Dungeon 2 Read online

  An Interactive Adventure Level 2

  Featuring Imps, Bugbears, and Lizard Shaman

  By Amanda Clover

  @amandasmut

  Cover artwork by Deilan12

  Interior artwork by Walnusstinte

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

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

  Hold on! This book is not linear!

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

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

  Have fun!

  My New Elf Friend

  The high-spirited and exceptionally curvy blonde elf opens the door to the second level of the dungeon with a creak of ancient hinges. The floating magical orb she has summoned to light our way goes floating past her through the door. She casts a glance back at me over her shoulder and says, “Looks like a big ugly cave.”

  “It’s the only way forward,” I say with determination in my voice. “And I don’t intend to spend the rest of my life in this dungeon getting screwed by monsters.”

  Being trapped in a thirteen level dungeon by my wizard ex-boyfriend Zimon Fendriss is a nightmare. Making matters worse, he has put a curse on me that makes me fertile and he has filled the dungeon with horny monsters eager to knock me up. I thought I was alone until I reached the end of the first level of dungeon, evading monsters and traps along the way, and encountered another of Zimon’s ex-girlfriends. Landranella “Nellie” Turmoral. That’s the curvy elf wizardess with her big and rather lovely butt practically in my face as she leans past the door to look around the second level of the dungeon.

  I’m Beatrix Ardora from the extremely boring village of Lesser Crudridge. I used to work at my family’s general store. Now, well, it looks like my crappy ex-boyfriend has turned me into an adventurer. In a way, it’s what I always wanted. It’s why I trained in sword fighting and it’s why I hit on the hunky older wizard when he showed up in the shop. And that’s why I’m here, trying to get out of a dungeon full of monsters and trying not to get, well, fucked along the way.

  “It is totally spooky in here. Are you coming?” Nellie calls from ahead and I realize she has gone into the second level and left me on the stairs.

  I follow her up the stairs and into the large cave-like chamber lit by the white glow of her magical orb. Nellie waves her hand and the orb lifts higher into the air, revealing the upper curve of the chamber. There are signs of pick marks as if the stone. What sorts of laborers excavated this chamber? And excavated it from what? This dungeon does not seem to obey any laws of nature as I know them. Perhaps it was transported here already built.

  “Look,” I say, pointing ahead of us to a massive humanoid shape in the shadows ahead. “There’s some sort of statue. I hope.”

  Nellie motions again, as if she is throwing something. This causes her huge breasts to jiggle and sends the orb floating ahead of us until it gradually reveals a familiar face and body chiseled out of the stone to form a statue ten times my height.

  “Zimon!” Nellie and I say simultaneously.

  The smirking statue is striking a heroic pose, his fist raised triumphantly and some sort of dragon-like creature dead beneath his boot. Nellie’s magical light glints from a dusty bronze plaque fixed under the statue. I walk ahead of Nellie, my hand resting on the pommel of my sword in case this is another one of Zimon’s tricks. I read the plaque, my mood darkening with each stanza of the poem inscribed upon it.

  LEVEL TWO

  The Cave of the Hero

  No man ever planted such plentiful seed,

  For every comely maiden quaking with need,

  Virile and stiff for each beauties’ desire,

  But what hast thou done to earn his ire?

  Imprisoned with naught but beasts and brute,

  Thou shall never again know a human root,

  Give up, surrender, acquiesce, or yield,

  Tis monsters alone that shall plow thine field!

  “Plow thine field? What does that mean?” Nellie asks, wrinkling her nose as if at a bad smell.

  “It means Zimon is a pompous ass and he is a terrible poet,” I say as I seriously consider defacing the plaque with my sword. Though the steel could surely mark the bronze, I decide that it would not be worth the damage it would do to my blade. I look at Nellie and ask, “I don’t suppose you have some magical means to destroy this horrible plaque?”

  “My magic is weakened by whatever spells Zimon put on this dungeon, but I can give it a try,” she says. She strikes a rather odd pose, almost like the squatting position someone might take if they were trying to leap into the air. She braces her left hand on her left thigh, splays the fingers of her right hand, and extends her arm towards the plaque. She begins to chant, softly at first, but growing louder and louder as magic crackles around her fingertips. Her pale face goes red and a vein begins to pulse on her forehead. The plaque vibrates. Her chant grows louder.

  “It’s alright if you can’t do anything,” I say. “It’s not worth passing out.”

  She chants louder, the violet magic swirling around her fingertips. Suddenly, there is a loud bang followed by a ping behind us as one of the two bolts holding the plaque in place shoots past my shoulder and disappears into the cave. The other bolt remains anchored in the stone, but it is enough to cause the plaque to tilt and rotate onto its side. I step forward, give it a good kick, and the plaque falls to the floor with a clang.

  “Beatrix,” moans Nellie.

  I turn and catch her as she falls into my arms, her face buried in my cleavage. I help her upright, but it is clear she is in no condition to travel far or fight any monsters.

  “Are you alright?” I ask, supporting most of her weight.

  “Y-yes, I will be fine,” she says, rubbing her forehead with her fingers. “It is as if all of my magic is trapped on the other side of a net and I must struggle to pull it through. A simple destruction spell takes great effort. It is even worse on this level than the last.”

  “Maybe we’re closer to whatever is blocking your magic,” I suggest hopefully. “If we could remove that block, maybe you could, I don’t know, teleport us out of here.”

  “I do not have such magic as this,” she says, smiling weakly. “But having the full range of my spells would be most helpful.”

  “Yes, it would be nice,” I say, walking her away from the statue. The light follows behind us.

  “There was a cave like this in the mountains to the north of my home. Gray bears lived there and would sometimes take the livestock of the humans. I hope there is no bear in this cave,” she says. “I do not want to have sex with a bear.”

  She almost falls over and I steady her once more, holding her hip against mine as I support her weight.

  “You are not having sex with a bear,” I promise. Somewhere in the darkened cave ahead I can just make out the echoing dripping sound of water. “I think I hear something up ahead. It sounds like water. We can rest and maybe clean up a little.”

  “That would be nice,” she says an
d she motions weakly for the orb to fly ahead.

  We come upon a cold spring flowing from the wall of the cave and creating a pool of completely clear water. I sit Nellie down beside the water and lean down to give it sniffs. It smells safe enough. I splash some of the cold water into my face and wipe away the grime. I scoop some more into my hand and take a tiny sip. It is clean with just a hint of minerals. More refreshing than any well I’ve ever sipped.

  “It’s fresh water,” I say, cupping my hand and lifting it up for Nellie to taste. I press my hand to her lips and she drinks the water in a single gulp.

  “Oh, delicious,” she says, some of the sparkle returning to her blue eyes.

  “We should drink our fill and then have a bath,” I say. “I desperately want to be clean after making it out of that first lair of the dungeon.”

  “It is a fine idea,” she agrees. Nellie stretches out onto her hands and knees and then on her belly overhanging the lip of the pool. Her huge breasts strain at her green bodice as she leans her head down and drinks directly from the cold spring. She moans with relief as she gulps and gulps.

  I cup my hand and sip more daintily, watching with amusement as the voluptuous elf drinks her fill. She finally lifts her head and rolls over, her hands on her belly as she pants to catch her breath.

  “Good,” she gasps.

  “I think you drank too much,” I laugh, poking a finger at her distended tummy.

  “Are you claiming that I am fat?” Nellie pouts as she looks down over her breasts at her bulging tummy. “My sister used to call me fat, in Ilyendale, but it was only because my breasts are so much larger than hers.” She squeezes her mounds through the bodice of her revealing costume and her creamy flesh nearly bursts free. She eyes your chest and adds, “Actually, I think Valoria’s breasts were about the same size as yours, Beatrix.”

  “Mine?” I scoff, looking down at my much more modest cleavage visible from the unbuttoned neck of my blouse. I squeeze them gently and measure them in my hands. “I would like to think of my breasts as a nice size. Well-formed. Perky.”

  “Yes, they are rather nice,” giggles Nellie. “May I see them?”

  I do not see the harm in showing her my breasts. I almost say “yes” to her and then I finally understand what she was saying about her sister. I do not know much about the elven capital of Ilyendale – it is said to be beautiful and as ancient as the elves – but I have heard of the crown princess of Ilyendale and her name is Valoria.

  “Plllleeeeeease,” says Nellie, clasping her hands together as if praying.

  “Wait a moment. You said your sister’s name is Valoria. Is she the—“

  “Yes,” says Nellie.

  “That makes you—“

  “Yes!” Nellie interjects. “And I hate being a princess. It was nothing but sitting around castles and talking endlessly. So I studied magic and left to become an adventuress. That was when I met Zimon. He promised to take me with him on all sort of adventures, but mostly he wanted to, well, you know how he is.”

  “Like a beast in rut,” I say.

  “More interested in bedding down and sticking his cock wherever he pleased,” agrees Nellie. “And he wasn’t satisfied with just me. He bedded bar wenches, shop girls, and anyone else he could find. He even expected me to join in, which was fun for a while, I suppose, but I began to feel that I was just as interchangeable as these other girls. I was his adventuring companion.”

  “He wouldn’t even take me on his adventures,” I say bitterly. “I was just one of the shop girls, I suppose.”

  “Oh, my sweet Beatrix, do not permit that arrogant man to define you with his deeds. You are brave and clever. You are my savior!” She suddenly throws her arms around me and squeezes me tightly against her plush breasts. The way she caresses me as she holds me against her sends an unexpected throb of heat into my core. “I might have wasted away in that cursed cage if you had not heard my cries for help.”

  “It was just luck,” I say, firmly pushing her away. “We’re both exes of Zimon. We’re in this together.”

  “We are,” she agrees. “It is good to have you with me, Beatrix.”

  I begin to agree with her, but her excitement shifts back to the cold pool of water beside us. She gets to her feet as if energized and begins pulling off her boots.

  “I feel disgusting after being in that cage for so long,” she says, revealing her pale legs and dainty feet. “I have become very smelly and have dreamed about having a bath.”

  She smelled like wildflowers and sunshine when she first embraced me. Her pale golden hair is lustrous and her skin unblemished. But elves are so refined she must have a different concept of hygiene. I have been sweating in my clothes for seemingly days. I can only imagine what a musky beast I must seem to her.

  My worries about my own hygiene are forgotten as Nellie casually unlaces her straining bodice and frees the bound weight of her breasts. She sheds her unusual garment, baring herself completely to me, and I stare in a bit of awe at her elven beauty. Her breasts are huge and pert, like two great quivering mounds of sweet cream capped with the pale pink dollops of her nipples. Those buds are bigger and thicker than my own, yet somehow still more delicate, as if rendered upon the heaving hillocks of her flesh with the exquisite strokes of an artist.

  Her waist is quite slender considering her huge bust and wide hips. She reveals the silky blonde tuft of hair between her legs and the perfect flower of her pink pussy. She turns the other way, folding her clothes neatly and bending so that I see the plush roundness of her bottom. Gods, I have never truly known desire for a woman, but I cannot deny the lust that rises in me at the sight of Nellie’s naked body. I imagine the way her soft curves would feel beneath my roaming hands; the way her flesh would tremble if I were to kiss it.

  She catches me staring and I quickly look away. I hear her enter the water beside me. Her gasp echoes as she acclimates to the cold and then strides deeper into the crystal clear pool. The reflected light of her magical orb dances and shimmers on the ceiling and nearby wall of the cave.

  “It is not too cold,” says Nellie. “You should join me.”

  I look across to her to see her standing waist-deep in the pool. Her pale body glistens and light reflected from the water dances over her curves. That same heat flares deep in my core and radiates through my body.

  “Alright,” I say softly.

  She watches with undisguised pleasure as I undress beside the pool. My face is hot with embarrassment, which is a bit ridiculous considering what I have been through already in this dungeon, but cannot be helped. Compared to Nellie, I do not feel very beautiful. My features are not as delicate as an elf’s and my skin, though perfect for a human from Lesser Crudridge, seems splotchy and marked by the slight tan lines of my clothing.

  “Oh, you are so beautiful,” murmurs Nellie, her blue eyes twinkling as she watches me remove my blouse.

  “I have heard that from many men,” I say. “I have never heard that from an elf woman.”

  I strip off my trousers as if I am in a hurry to be naked, though the truth is more the opposite. My legs are longer than Nellie’s and much leaner, though I have some curve to my hips. The dark thatch of hair between my legs seems beastly and unkempt compared to Nellie’s airy fluff of golden hair. I practically leap into the pool to be out of her sight, ducking my head under the water and bursting to the surface with a gasp at the shocking cold.

  “Gods, that’s freezing!” I cry. “You said it was not too cold.”

  Nellie wades closer to me, laughing sympathetically as she says, “I forget that elven blood is colder than human. But our flesh is not so cold. Come here. Let me warm you.”

  I am taller than Nellie, but I do not resist as she wraps her arms around me and squeezes her naked body against mine. It is true, her body does seem exceptionally warm. It even dispels some of the frigid cold of the water that surrounds us.

  “Mmmmm, that is better,” I murmur, squeezing her shapely body ag
ainst mine.

  Nellie’s soft lips meet mine and press tightly. I stiffen and her lips part, her tongue slipping past my own and into my mouth. She tastes honey-sweet against my lips. Her huge breasts squeeze against me, her mouth is hot and inviting, and her hands slip down my body to caress my hips and gently fondle the firm roundness of my ass.

  I want more, but I am so shocked that I jerk away from her kiss.

  “What are you doing?” I demand.

  “Warming you with a kiss,” she says. “It stokes the fires within.”

  “Women do not kiss women,” I say, recalling the teachings at the temple of Oreth. “Such a thing is forbidden.”

  “Forbidden?” Nellie laughs softly and leans in for another kiss. “Such a thing is wonderful, Beatrix.”

  She leans her lips up to mine and kisses me again. Despite my initial shock, I offer her no resistance. My lips part to her and my tongue meets hers in an eager, slippery dance. The honey sweetness of her kiss spreads across my tongue and I probe into her mouth in reply. My core burns hotter, my hips moving slightly and my mound against her thigh beneath the cold water. I crave more.

  “Do you see?” Nellie moans against my lips.

  “I see,” I reply, kissing her this time and plunging my tongue to taste her sweetness. My hands caress her plush rear, squeezing and spreading her soft cheeks.

  Without breaking our embrace, Nellie guides me back to the shore. We slide onto the stone together beside the softly lapping spring. My nipples are painfully stiff and my body prickled with gooseflesh. Nellie’s weight is almost atop me, her breasts squeezed and spread across my chest, her hand stroking my hip as she kisses me again and again. Her lips burn against my neck and I moan and throw back my head, my wet hair dripping onto the stone with soft splashes.

  “There is pleasure to be found everywhere,” murmurs Nellie, kissing my shoulder and collarbone and stroking her fingers over my left breast. I gasp and shudder as she lightly bends my little nipple. I jerk my hips and graze my aching cunt against her shapely thigh. She kisses my lips again and then whispers, hotly, “Let me show you, Beatrix. Let me prove to you there is nothing to be forbidden in the embrace of two women. Let me show you pleasure.”