Fertile in My Ex-Boyfriend's Dungeon 6 Read online




  An Interactive Adventure Level 6

  Horny Gnome, Gnarly Troll, and the Virgin Satyr

  By Amanda Clover

  @amandasmut

  Cover artwork by Deilan12

  Interior artwork by Walnusstinte

  This book and all its contents are copyright 2020 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. Follow 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!

  A Trick of the Light

  The sunlight feels real. It warms my face when I turn it towards the sky. It forms patterns of light and shadow as it passes through the wind-stirred branches of the forest. All of it is a lie. That lovely golden wood, those fields full of wildflowers, and the stream twisting through the meadow and among the trees.

  It’s all a trick of Zimon Fendriss. Wizard, villain, dungeon master, and my ex-boyfriend. He has lied like this to me before. On the island. In the moonlight. I thought, for a moment, that I was free. This is no different. There are boundaries. We are imprisoned, even if I cannot see the bars of the jail that holds us.

  “At least there is a path to follow,” I murmur, looking at the well-worn path through the woods and clearings.

  “It is just as likely to be another of that damned wizard’s tricks,” says Mishanna Shadowstride. The voluptuous, violet-fleshed deep elf assassin seems even more exposed in her costume of bandoliers and straps here compared to when we were in a grimy dungeon. She squints her silvery white eyes at the blue skies and golden sunlight. “We will follow it, but the path is too exposed. I will keep to the shade. Do what you will, Beatrix.”

  She veers off the path and under the canopy of trees. Patterns of shadow move over her jiggling curves. I try not to stare.

  “No, no, you have better instincts,” I say, hastening to follow her. She moves with absolute silence while I seem to step on every dry leaf and fallen twig. “You know this path is going to lead us to a monster of some kind or another. And it’s going to try to mate with us.”

  That’s just what the monsters do in this dungeon. They’re all horny and potent and Mishanna and I are both cursed with fertility. Not to mention the magic makes us a little more eager than usual to give in to the monsters. Look, you should understand what I’m dealing with here by now. This is the sixth level of the dungeon. Monsters want to mate. It’s the only way for them to escape the dungeon. To get out, I either get knocked up or reach the thirteenth level.

  Sound like fun? Oh, trust me, it’s not.

  We keep the path in sight, following its twists and turns through the forest and warily crossing meadows. Mishanna pads silently ahead of me, one hand on the hilt of her sheathed sword and the other holding her hand crossbow.

  “Deep elves are pained by sunlight,” she says. “It is almost blinding to me and it burns if I linger in the daylight.”

  I get it. The trees practically seem to glow with the light of the sun. After being stuck in that dank asylum full of lunatics, being in bright daylight is almost painful for me. I can only imagine how sexy cave elves feel, burning up under the sun.

  “Would explain why I’ve never seen any deep elves at the swimming hole in Lesser Crudridge,” I say.

  “We are excellent swimmers,” she says. “I am practiced at cave diving and can hold my breath for more than three hundred count.”

  “Nicely buoyant too, I’d imagine,” I murmur, eyeing her plump breasts straining at the straps and bandoliers of her web of armor.

  “I heard that,” hisses Mishanna, casting a glance back at me over her shoulder as she continues without slowing her pace.

  She passes from light and dark and light and dark again, moving like a hunting cat while I shamble along a few paces behind her.

  It’s that distance that almost saves me.

  There is a snap under Mishanna’s left foot. She stiffens and starts to call out a warning to me. Before the words can leave her lips, a web of ropes is launched from the hollow of a nearby tree. The ropes strike like a mass of serpents, driving Mishanna down to her knees and binding her arms behind her back. I see ropes binding her ankles too, but then I hear a snap underfoot and my world suddenly goes upside down.

  If I had been a deep elf assassin like Mishanna I probably would have avoided that second snare. Instead, I end up swinging from the branch of a nearby tree. I do manage to avoid my right arm being bound up, by my ankles are tied to the branch and a rope has my left arm secured tightly behind my back. I swing back and forth, Mishanna seemingly above me, cursing and struggling and failing to escape her bonds.

  “Beatrix,” she calls, twisting against the ropes. “Beatrix. Your sword.”

  “What?” I tilt my head upwards and realize my sword is still in its sheath. I could draw it with my right hand.

  Mishanna shifts on her knees so that her back is facing me. She waves her trapped hands.

  “Throw it into my hands,” she says. “I’ll cut myself free. Quickly! I hear something coming!”

  “I can draw it and cut myself down!” I reply, wrapping my hand around the grip.

  “Don’t try it,” she cries. “Now, Beatrix! Throw me the sword!”

  I can hear whatever is coming our way now as it crashes through the forest. It sounds angry and big. Like it’s either going to tear us apart and eat us or pound our brains out with giant monster cock.

  What should I do?

  Toss Mishanna the sword

  Free myself with the sword

  Make him jerk off his tiny cock

  “I’m curious,” I say, watching the pitiful gnome cringe at Mishanna’s feet. “He has that cock that’s so pitifully small it wouldn’t seem he could do much of anything with it. But he so desperately wants pleasure.”

  “So?” Mishanna asks, stepping a boot near his bollocks. “Should I kick him in his stones? Stomp on his cock?”

  “Nooooo, please!” moans Babo.

  “It does seem awfully cruel,” I laugh. “Perhaps he deserves it. But I think I would rather see him prove to us that a cock that small can even work. Would you like that, Babo? Go on. Stroke your cock. Jerk it for us.”

  “Ohhhhh, yes, I’ll do it,” moans Babo, grasping his wee cock in his wee fingers and beginning to stroke.

  “Disgusting! Like a little worm!” Mishanna looks away for a moment as if she cannot stand the sight of Babo’s cock. Then she looks back again as if she cannot escape her curiosity. “Is it always that small?”

  “Y-yes,” admits the gnome, stroking faster.

  “Pathetic. Go on then, make your seed squirt out of the horrid little thing.” She crouches a bit for a better look. I crouch beside her, resting one arm on her shoulder.

  Babo strokes faster, his face red and his tongue pinched into the corner of his mouth as he abuses himself. Even though he is wanking quite quickly, it still seems to be taking a while.

  “Let’s give him something to look at,” I suggest, moving behind Mishanna.
I reach my hands around her, pulling aside the bandoliers of her costume and exposing the soft mounds of her breasts. They are huge, but barely pendulous, with a perky shape and fat bluish nipples that practically beg to be suckled.

  “Ohhhhh,” moans Babo, wanking even faster on his stiff little cock.

  “Really, he does not deserve to see my breasts,” says Mishanna. “Such a pitiful little scrap of maleness has never been in the presence of my glorious bosom before.”

  “Yes, they are magnificent,” I agree, looking over her shoulder as I cradle and gently mold her breasts with my hands. I run my fingers over her nipples, bending them and eliciting a soft cry of pleasure from Mishanna. Babo moans as well and precum drools from the head of his cock and down his white-haired bollocks.

  “So soft,” purrs Mishanna, turning to face me. “And my nipples are so very sensitive.”

  “Oooooooohhhh,” moans Babo deliriously as he wanks his cock and watches. I begin pinching and gently tugging Mishanna’s nipples as the wee gnome flogs his red prick. She brushes her lips against mine and sighs softly against my mouth. I smash a kiss against her lips, moaning into that sweet liplock as I play with her nipples.

  “Mmmmmm,” she moans against my lips. When she gets a word out, it is gasped against my teasing tongue. “Oh, yes, I do believe his miniature cock is about to erupt.”

  “Oh, really?” I kiss her again and then turn my attention to Babo squirming in the grass at our feet.

  “Ahhh! Yes! Ohhhhh my tiny cock…aaaaAAAHHH!” Babo thrusts his hips and pumps his purpling cock through his fingers. “Oooooohhhh! It’s going to squirt! Oh, let me squirt it inside! Let me put it…put it in your peaches!”

  “Never!” Snarls Mishanna. “Gnome seed is disgusting and useless just like your foul wart of a cock!”

  “Your pimple is going to burst!” I giggle, watching his wanking reach a crescendo.

  Babo lets out a strangled cry of pleasure, thrusting his hips with such urgently hat his bottom is off the ground. He aims his cock directly at us, but we are ready for him. He squeaks and twitches and a huge glistening glob of spunk bursts from the head of his cock. Mishanna dodges to the right and I duck to the left and Babo’s creamy missile sails between us to splash upon the grass. His subsequent gushes of thick gnome sauce pump between his legs and spill down his fingers to drip from his bollocks.

  “Oh, I love you both,” he moans, stroking his still-hard cock and watching as Mishanna pulls her bandoliers back into place. “Stay with me. Be my brides.”

  “I don’t think so, Babo,” I laugh. “We’re getting out of this dungeon.”

  “And we want nothing more to do with a vile little creature like you,” says Mishanna, cinching her straps tighter over her breasts.

  “Well, m-my friend will get you,” says Babo. “He guards the bridge! He’s a troll! Oh, yes, he’ll make you two pay a toll you won’t like. His cock is a lot bigger than mine!”

  Mishanna curses at Babo in elven and makes a fist, threatening him and causing him to cringe away.

  “How do you know the troll has a big cock?” I laugh.

  “Because he is making it up,” says Mishanna, her brow furrowed in anger even as Babo hides behind the stump. “Gnomes lie. They deceive. They are vermin. Let us be on our way.”

  “Yes, let’s put his threat to the test,” I chuckle, sheathing my sword. “Farewell, Babo.”

  “Go away!” He says, peeking over the stump. “Leave me!”

  I exchange a look of amusement with Mishanna and we set off again down the path, no longer bothering to keep to the trees.

  CONTINUE >

  Flee past the troll

  “Run,” I whisper to Mishanna. “We both run straight past him. He can’t stop us both and maybe we’ll confuse him.”

  “That is a very dangerous ‘maybe’,” hisses Mishana.

  She isn’t wrong, but I don’t see another way out of this. With Kergel standing in the middle of the bridge and our only escape on the other side, we must get past him.

  “On my count,” I say, gripping my sword as if I plan to attack. “Three, two, one!”

  I sheath my sword and dash onto the bridge, straight at Kergel. Mishanna easily matches my pace, her long elf legs pumping and her plump breasts bouncing with each step. Kergel’s black eyes narrow as he tries to follow our movements.

  “Cross me and break right,” I shout to her. “I’ll break left.”

  “Very well,” she replies and we cross paths as we run, effectively trading sides of the bridge just before we reach the troll. There is a decent gap between the gnarled brute and either side of the bridge. All we need to do is avoid being grabbed by those big clawed hands.

  No more time to think. We break apart from one another, following the low wall on either side of the bridge. Kergel is ready for us. We must be faster than him. As I race past the troll, he is turning towards Mishanna. His long arm swings at me in a sudden arc, like the whip of a tree branch that has been pulled nearly to the ground and then released. His arm swings far past the limits of a human shoulder joint, flexing as his splayed fingers catch the back of my shirt and his black nails slice through the material.

  “Ah!” I cry out as my running momentum is suddenly reversed. I am jerked off my feet by the troll’s hand and swung around to the front of his body. I collide with Mishanna, the wind knocked out of me by the impact of our bodies and the sense knocked out of me by the sharp crack of our heads. Kergel laughs triumphantly and hurls us to the ground at his feet.

  Mishanna groans and rolls over beside me. I struggle to push myself onto my hands and knees. I see stars and my visions swims. I fade in and out of consciousness.

  “I didn’t want to hurt you,” says the troll. “I warned you that you could not cross my bridge. Now I will take what I must.”

  He leans over me, his rotting vegetable smell seeming to be a poison that fills the air. I choke on that stench as he slashes his claws down the back of my blouse and shreds my clothing away. His black nails rake my trousers and tear away my sword belt. I whimper as I feel him moving over me. Pressing me down. Trapping me beneath his giant size as the enormous head of his cock rubs against the backs of my thighs and the trembling mounds of my buttocks.

  “Fucked by a troll,” I chuckle, a fatalistic amusement rising inside me. “Wait’ll grandpa hears about this.”

  Kergel presses one huge hand between my shoulder blades, pinning me to the bridge. His other hand wraps around his cock and guides it to the soft folds of my womanhood. I start to make some sarcastic remark about his smell. The troll thrusts into me, filling me with his gnarled cock, and I lose the ability to speak. His fat shaft stretches me wide. The knots in its length rub against the tender bud of my clit and my stretched lips as he plunges in and out of my pussy. My fingers scrabble at the bridge’s stones. I struggle to breathe as I look, wide-eyed, for Mishanna.

  She is still slumped unconscious beside me, unaware that I am having my little human pussy pounded by a cock the size of a battering ram. Gods, it hurts, but there is no denying a certain strange pleasure. With every thrust I swear Kergel is going to poke my heart or my lungs or just rip me in half. Those hard knots bump over my clit, slicked by my nectar and the slippery sap oozing from his cock. I clench against him, feeling every bit of his cock with my inner walls.

  “Ohhhhh, damn you,” I cry, lifting my hips slightly as his gnarled body slaps against me with each stroke.

  I am entirely at his mercy as the pleasure builds with each thrust of his mighty cock. That treacherous ecstasy tightens in my core, coiling around the blunt head of his cock, ramming into me, driving me down each time I try to rise. At the brink of my ecstasy, Kergel snorts and growls, his hot breath washing over me. His cock jerks and pumps and gushes his monstrous seed into my fertile depths. A hot flood of troll cum splashes against my womb and in an instant the curse of Zimon’s dungeon snaps shut like a trap.

  Ecstasy more intense than any I have ever known explodes thro
ugh my trembling body. I wail and arch beneath the troll’s body, my inner walls clutching at his throbbing cock. Love blooms inside me. Joy drowns my fears. This is it. This is my purpose. To be the mate of a troll. I understand that now.

  He pulls out of me, leaving me gasping and softly whimpering with ecstasy on the bridge. He strokes my dark hair and the creamy skin of my back one last time.

  “My love,” I croak.

  “Good girl,” he rasps. “Rest. I will see to the elf.”

  Beside me, I hear Mishanna groan as he rolls her onto her back. I smile with the knowledge she will soon be my sister. Together, we will be brides of the troll.

  CONTINUE >

  Give Petr a double blowjob

  I still have the taste of him in my mouth. I wet my lips and run my fingers over them as I gaze at the satyr’s glistening pink cock still trickling out clear post-orgasmic liquid. Mishanna follows my gaze.

  She leans an arm on my shoulder and asks, “Was it that good?”

  “Delicious,” I say, resting one hand on my belly as if I might be able to feel the little puddle of cum in my tummy. “Like sweet cream. Like hazelnut butter frosting. Rich and melty and warm. Mmmmm. Want to share him?”

  “Both of us?” She raises an eyebrow as if surprised by my suggestion. “Yes, it might work. We will give him more pleasure than he can withstand.”

  “B-b-both of you?” Petr sits up. “You mean, at the same time?”

  I shove his shoulder and he flops onto his back. “That’s exactly what I mean,” I say to him, shoving his furry legs apart. I kneel between those goat legs and Mishanna kneels beside me.

  Petr lifts his head just enough to watch us as we move to his cock. I grasp it in my hand, holding it firmly by the root just above its furry sheath. The size of it really is magnificent. Big, but not intimidating. The perfect specimen of a man’s cock sticking up from the furry loins of a goat. Mishanna rubs his inner thigh as well before focusing her attention on the furry pouch of his bollocks.