My fanged sneer carved a white streak in the reeking splatter of porcine blood smeared across my scarred face. Kneeling before me, the orc peered up, his bloodshot eyes already glazing over in death. I planted my hoof to his flabby chest and shoved back. My sword came free with a wet squelch as the corpse hit the damp stone floor of the lightless dungeon. That was the twelfth one, I thought with some satisfaction. Since venturing into this blackened pit, I had managed to slay twelve of the horrid things with surprisingly little effort. Still, my ears parted as I recalled the first time I met an orc in combat. Suffice to say, it ended with me in chains and with a belly heavy with kicking orc spawn.

Tightening my grip on my blade, I stared down at the lifeless husk of my foe. My golden eyes flashed venomously and I hocked a wad of phlegm on the stinking body. Just my last way of paying my respects. It felt great, I had to tell you. My brown skin shone as it slid like silk over the smooth ridges of my muscles. Since my last great adventure, I had taken the liberty to outfit myself with a new leather cuirass and a nice kilt of fur and scalemail. Add to that a pair of studded wristbands and I was one snazzy barbarian. My strength was well above what I needed to survive this trial. I had also gotten a new sword, complete with an enchantment that increased its critical strikes. So, you can clearly understand just why I was brimming with confidence as I strode into the next chamber.

As I entered the room, I paused and reached into a leather pouch on my belt. Producing a small, silver vial, I popped off the cork and downed the somewhat metallic tasting potion in one quaff. A little shiver ran throughout my body as my veins bulged with renewed vigor. 

“Mana potion,” I said aloud, tossing the empty vial over my shoulder. 

Yes, I had learned my lesson well. Despite being of a non-magical class, my best skills would require the use of mana in order to activate.

“No babies for this one,” I said, giving my rippling stomach a pat. “No way, this warrior is getting out of here with a flat stomach for once.”

Taking up my sword, I quickly scanned the room. It was a large, square area, illuminated by four torches in iron sconces. The walls were solid enough, no surprise doors or arrow portals. There were two tables laden with old dusty scrolls and tomes. Behind the tables were several warped bookcases, their shelves sagging with crumbling books. It would have been a spellcaster’s dream, I mused. Still, I reasoned, it was probably best to give everything at least a cursory glance. I might find something of value or if nothing else, I could sell anything useful. Keeping my sword out, I crept up to the tables. An old skull sat in the middle of one table, the guttering remains of a beeswax candle melted down the yellow bone to pool in the empty eye sockets. My mouth curled into a frown as I puzzled over the piles of mildewy pages. Nothing of worth from what I could see. Turning my head, my tail suddenly gave a wag at what I saw in the distant corner. 

A chest! Now that is what I am talking about. I had plunged through room after room and had not caught one stinking whiff of treasure. It was about darn time, let me tell you. Grinning from ear to ear, I scampered across the room and stopped before the massive ironbound lockbox. The chest was constructed of wood with the corners and edges of a simple black iron. My ears twitched as I noticed that there was no visible lock. A sense of trepidation ran through me. An unlocked chest meant trouble, especially in this dungeon. Yes, this was the home of the dreaded witch-queen herself. Even now, her maniacal laughter was ringing in my ears.

“Open it,” she whispered. “Come on, you know you want to.”

“Just what are you planning,” I cried.

Again, her voice filled my ears. “You’ll have to open it and find out, my cutie-boy.”
Oh no, she was not going to get me this time. Though I lacked for magic, my barbarian instincts did provide me with some tricks. My keen awareness told me that there were no traps or poisons around the chest. Being a disciple of the barbarian god allowed me to see that there was no trace of an evil aura about the chest, either. I scratched my chin and narrowed my eyes, considering my options. 

Wait! My ears pricked up as I remembered that I had a scroll packed in my pouch. It was a rather useful item that could detect magic. If this chest was enchanted with a magic spell, I would sniff it out. I knew too well that such containers opened to release a ball of fire or a blast of powerful lightning and was not about to make the same mistake. My scroll crackled in my hand as the magical runes surged to life. In seconds, the page burnt itself into ash, but the chest remained the same. So, no evil, no traps and no magic. I shrugged my massive shoulders. I guess it was just a regular chest after all. And yet, the words of the witch-queen still haunted me. Did she really leave an unguarded chest here for me to stumble upon? My hand trembled just above the latch. Perhaps it was a trick? Maybe she was trying to get me to doubt myself. A cold sweat was prickling my brow. I licked my salty lips as I stared down at the chest. It was time, this was the moment. I seized the latch and tore open the lid.

Ah, you have to be kidding me! Instead of glittering gold and treasure, a swarm of ropey tentacles burst from the confines of the chest as soon as the lid flew back. Like thick green and brown serpents, their muscled bodies shiny with slippery mucus, the horrid things lashed out at me. In the blink of an eye, I was bound tight by the writhing mass. One arm was pinned, but my sword hand was still free. With the tentacles wrapping around my legs, I swung with a ferocity to make the very gods quake. One tendril snapped in half, the bloody stump spraying a sickly stream of ichor as I whirled on the next. My arm came up and was seized in the powerful grip of a heavy, green beast. No, I could not move. I tried to summon all of my flagging strength, but nothing worked. My skills were abandoning me. I was helpless. In my head, the laughter of the witch-queen chimed like a cathedral bell. Slowly, the tentacles wound tighter. Soon, I felt my legs being pulled apart as one very large tendril crept up my inner thigh. My heart pounded against my ribs as three tentacles inched closer to my mouth.  

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me,” I cried as the tentacles dove down my throat.

Not again, I thought as my ass was slammed by a pillar of quivering flesh. Lubricated by their natural slime, the tentacles slid back forth with ease, falling to an intoxicating rhythm. With a stream of slime trickling down my chin, I began to let my eyes close, allowing the monster to take me. The thick tendril shot up my anus to tickle at my prostate, causing me to whimper and writhe against the powerful hold of the beast. My hips slowly rocked in time with the delicious pounding, drinking in the heady pleasure. Soon, the tentacles began to convulse, their flexible bodies swelling and pulsing as they pumped their virile seed into me. The bitter tang gushed down my throat, filling my belly in seconds. My abdomen bulged, swelling into a ripe balloon. Meanwhile, firm, jelly-like eggs were being planted into my ass. My body quivered with the luscious feeling of every delicate sphere as it slid deep within me. My gravid belly sagged to the floor, growing ever the more fertile and wonderful. My hard pectorals soon inflated into bloated, milk heavy orbs. I uttered a muffled cry as two serpentine appendages latched onto my puffy nipples and suckled at my nourishing milk. 

“A-Ah,” I groaned as the tentacles pulled themselves from my mouth. “Yes, yes. More, please!” 

My mouth was rimed with the sticky fluids of the monster and yet, I begged for more. My belly had grown into an enormous brown sphere, the smooth, taut skin rippling with the new life which grew within me. I was the size of a behemoth, I could have been carrying an entire village, but still I yearned --no, ached would be the word-- to be filled with more.

“That’s my good little preggy-boy,” the voice of the witch-queen laughed. “Grow big for mommy.”

“Y-Yes, mistress,” I groaned. “I will do as you wish. I will also not eat all the chips.”

[center]***[\center]

“Okay, now that’s quite enough,” I cried, slapping my palm on the coffee table. 

From behind the cardboard Dungeon Master divider, a pair of fuschia eyes grinned back at me. 

I thrust a clawed finger at the giggling fiend behind the wall of monster paintings. “And it was you, who ate all the chips.”

An empty bowl sat forlorn on the floor beside my foe, a few crumbs the only reminder of the barbeque flavored slices of fried potatoes. 

Those fuschia eyes flashed as the fiend chuckled. “Oh, come now. Don’t be like that, you were doing so well.” She raised her tawny head, her gold nose ring glittering from the light of the single lamp. “Although, I do so love your grumpy face.” She stuck out a shiny, black lip in a mock pout and smiled.

Ugh, the only thing worse than those tentacles had to be the disarmingly charming smile of Fereya. Sitting back, I crossed my arms beneath my ample bosom and huffed. 

“Okay then, so where did I go wrong this time?” I grumbled. “I did everything you told me. Admit it, you just cheated.”

Fereya’s mouth fell in as if I had slapped her across the face. Of course, I knew it all to be an act. I was not about to fall for those tears welling up in the corners of her eyes. Not this time. Seeing that I was not about to cave, she immediately returned and impish grin.

“Wanna know?” Fereya replied. “Let me tell you.” She held up her hand and stuck out her index finger. Her other hand flew up to touch her finger as she recounted. “First, you did a check for traps. However, traps are mechanical in nature, like arrows or spikes. A flamethrower would also have been detected. Those tentacles were alive, though, so they were not traps.” Her middle finger now. “Next, you did a detect evil spell, a wise choice. But, those tentacles are not evil. They are a neutral beast, so they were not spotted.” Her ring finger came up. “Lastly, you tried to detect arcane, but that only catches spells and enchantments. Again, those tentacles were mere beasts with no magical affiliation.”

“So what are you saying?” I asked.

Fereya held both palms up and replied, “If you had a detect life ability or scroll, you could have caught them before you made your, let us say, very attractive mistake.” 

Her eyes gleamed hungrily at my pregnant belly. Unconsciously, I brought my arm over the hump straining to escape the paltry threads of my favorite tee shirt. The bottom of my shirt had ridden up to expose the round chocolate orb of my lower belly and I had caught Fereya eying it on multiple occasions this evening. Ordinarily, I would have relished in the attention, but her gaze was, how can I put this, predatory? I felt like a rabbit being watched by a wolf. I half expected her to pounce at any second. 

Grabbing up my seltzer can, I took a loud slurp and said, “You know, I think you just planned for me to fail that roll no matter what.”

The troll arched a brow. “Oh? You sound as if I wanted you to get pregnant. Now whatever would make you suspect that?”

I set the can down on the coffee table and narrowed my eyes. “Because you’re Fereya.”

Fereya placed a finger on her cheek and gave a big, toothy grin. Her pointed fangs reflected the warm yellow glow of the lamplight. “But isn’t that why you love me?”

I just rolled my eyes. I could not very well say no, could I?

“Anyway,” I muttered. “I still don’t think I’m getting this at all.” I indicated the board seated between us. Drawn over the simple sheet of paper, was the crude outline of the dungeon. An assorted pile of dice were scattered over the coffee table and a sheet with my character’s name and stats was nestled by my elbow. “I mean, all these crazy rules. I don’t know how people have the patience.”

“It’s not so hard,” Fereya replied. “You really were doing well. Better than I would have expected. Honestly, I was going to see you knocked up by another orc a long time ago.”

I knew it, dammit! I knew she was going to try that.

Leaning over the Dungeon Master blind, she continued. “Now, my sweet, preggy-boy, shall we return to the game?” 

I nodded, but did not say anything.

“Good! Now then, my lovely, gravid barbarian still must confront the witch-queen. I want you to crawl on your knees with your fat, pregnant belly dragging on the stone flags. You’re going to enter the queen’s chamber and say, “Yes, mistress, I will do whatever you ask.”

My hands on my round hips, I gave a flick of my tail. “I am not going to drag myself anywhere on my knees. Besides, my belly was way too big.”

Fereya’s eyes shone with a hard light. “You’re going to drag yourself in and you’re going to like it.” Her voice had dropped into a dangerous snarl. “You will bow to your queen. I’ve been waiting for you all night.” Her slender tail whipped about behind her like an angry cobra.

My ears drooped as I withered beneath her gaze. “F-Fereya,” I stammered. “This is just part of the character right? I mean, it’s just a silly game.”

“A game?” she asked. Her hand fell on top of the cardboard divider. 

A shiny black nail tapped with increasing agitation. Tap, tap, tap, in time with the ticking of the clock hanging on my living room wall. A shadow passed over her face as she chewed her bottom lip. Finally, after what felt like hours, she smiled. But, it was not the usual warm, Fereya smile. No, this one was different, hungry, aggressive and just a little bit alluring. I gulped, seeing this sexy predator staring at me like I was to be her next meal.

“I suppose it is silly,” she laughed and folded the divider down. Her eyes were not smiling, however. Placing her palms together, she let her fangs slide from her lips. “Perhaps, Ammah, sweetie, we should try a different approach?”

Fereya stood up in a sort of half crouch, her palms flat on the table as she leaned towards me. Her breasts wobbled beneath her usual black shirt that she wore at the coffee shop. Her belly, now four months pregnant, swelled slightly against the fabric. I can still remember on Halloween, when she told me the news. What was really different, though, was the knee length plaid skirt. That was odd, I had thought to myself. She never wore anything but jeans. The troll licked her lips and stepped down on the table, her clawed foot smashing right down on the little plastic figure I was using for my character. 

Her frosty gaze was imperious as she stared down at me. A tingle fear surged up my spine and I started to crawl backwards in an attempt to escape into the kitchen. 

“F-Fereya,” I stammered. “Um, I’m sorry. It’s not a silly game, please don’t be mad.”

“No, Ammah,” she intoned flatly. “It’s perfectly fine.”

I was almost to the kitchen, my pinky was over the threshold. Suddenly, the pregnant troll leapt at me.

“Where are you going, little boy?” she roared.

I let out a shriek and rolled, flopping into the kitchen. I had just staggered to my hooves, when Fereya materialized behind me. I dove forward, only to find myself face-planting into the wall. I had nowhere to run! Her hot breath burned on my neck. Her soft breasts pressed against my shoulder blades as she slid her hand down my back and along the curve of my buttocks. 

“Whoo,” I yipped as I felt her fingers shoot up my ass.

Hot and wet, her voice rasped in my ear, “You called me a swamp witch once, remember?” Her fingers probed my insides, flicking against my prostate. “Well, I suppose I do have a certain penchant for warm, moist things.”

Fereya giggled and wiggled her fingers, sending ripples of ecstacy to mix with the tinge of terror flowing through me.

“Fereya,” I cried. “What’s gotten into you?”

I was up on the tips of my hooves, my claws scrabbling on the wall as she pushed deeper.

“Oh, I think you know,” she replied.

Finally, she pulled her hand away and I slumped to the floor. I quickly spun around, my back to the wall and got a faceful of her crotch. Fereya sneered and reached for the button on her skirt. The plaid fabric pooled about her ankles as she let the skirt fall, but I was not concerned with that at the moment. Instead, my gaze was riveted to the cantaloupe sized orbs hanging between her thighs. Her balls had grown massive, no wonder she was wearing a skirt. How was she hiding those? Perched above those pulsing spheres, her cock stood rigid, the dark purple flesh radiating heat. 

“My kind have a problem with hormones when pregnant,” she groaned. “The male parts go into, let’s say, overdrive. I’ve been saving it all for you, sweetie.”

My lip trembled as her rigid shaft crept closer. 

“Come now, little hero,” she purred. “Come and face the witch-queen.”

Fereya planted her palms against the wall and hooked her left leg over my shoulder, pinning me and dragging me in close. My nose nestled the hot, dark flesh, the scent of her musk wafting into my nostrils was driving me wild. 

“Kiss the queen’s scepter,” she commanded. 

I do not know why, but that cold, domineering order sent a thrill into my chest. My numbed fingers reached up to take her member. My lips brushed the plump underside of her cock as I slowly kissed up and down her shaft. Caressing the top of her throbbing groin, I licked the swollen bulb of her glans, my lips parting to take the entire thing into my mouth.

“Mmm, that’s it,” she moaned. “That’s my good hero. Take it all in.”

Take it all, I did. My rough tongue scoured the underside of her shaft, swirling around and around, driving her crazy. Relaxing my jaws, I slid her further into me until her tip was down my throat. My nose tickled against the fluff of her tawny pubic hair. But, I was not done, not yet. My hands came up the firm flesh of her lovely thighs to gently fondle those swollen orbs. Next, I played along her dewy lips, which blossomed at my touch. Above me, Fereya panted, her entire body quivering. My pinky and ring finger plunged deep into her womanhood, while my index and middle finger found the tight ring of her anus. 

“Ha! Oh, Ammah,” she gasped. “A-Ah, you’ve learned a new trick, I see.”

My lips locked to her rigid member, my fingers did their magic, dancing within her softest, most delicate areas. 

“Oh yes,” she moaned. “Yes, more.” She pounded her fist against the wall. “God damn, you better make me cum.”

Her hips slowly rocked in time to the bob of my head. I could see her balls retracting, getting ready to explode. Her thighs tightened, locking me in place as Fereya pushed her hips into me. My head was slammed back against the wall as she released her pent up fury. Hot, sticky fluid gushed from her hardened cock, pouring down my gullet. I grabbed both of her butt cheeks and held on for dear life as I continued to gulp down wave after pulsating wave of the troll’s virile seed. 

Her face was flushed scarlet as she rested her head against the wall. Above me, I could hear the soft sighs escape her lips as her entire body heaved with each orgasmic shudder. My head was swimming and I started to wonder if it was possible to get drunk from sperm. My hands fell limp to my knees as I slouched against the wall, unable to do anything more than suckle the thick, bitter semen from her throbbing cock. Like when I battled the tentacle monster, I summoned my flagging strength and raised my trembling hands. Tracing up her perfect legs, I caressed her round, firm buttocks. My clawed hands gripped the queen with a sudden ferocity, causing Fereya to give a yip. Putting all of my might into my shoulders, I pushed off from the wall, my lips meeting the tuft of musky pubic hair full on. And then… and then I worshiped her. 

Her cock plunged down my throat as I licked the soft undershaft with a renewed vigor. How it pulsed between my jaws with a steady pumping tempo. Lubricated and shiny by my saliva, Fereya’s shaft slid easily between my lips, rubbing against the roof of my mouth as she continued to pour her life’s essence into me. I wanted her, all of her at that moment. My tee shirt groaned and rode up to my breasts as my belly began to swell. My right hand fell from her ass to clutch the growing, brown orb. With tiny nasal laughs, I allowed my eyes to roll up into my head as I let my dark queen take me. 

“I’m going to stuff you until everyone thinks you’re having twins,” Fereya rasped. 

Her hands came down to take me by the head, guiding me into her crotch as she continued to thrust her hips. Her engorged balls swung up, striking me in the chin, telling me just who was in control. Hot tears were streaming down my cheeks. Silently I begged her to fill me, to mold me into anything she desired. I spread my thighs wide and gripped my bloated belly, relishing in the tightness of new expansion as my belly creaked and groaned. 

My cheeks soon began to bulge as her seed filled my mouth. My aching stomach was full, too full. My hands flew to her waist as I began to choke and sputter. Fountains of semen spurted from my lips as I clawed frantically at the troll’s waist. Through tear blurred eyes, I pleaded for her to release me. 

Fereya grinned over the round hump of her own pregnant belly. “Do you wish the queen to grant you mercy, little hero?”

Above my overfilled cheeks, the corners of my eyes crinkled in assent. 

Fereya, mercifully, pulled away, allowing me to finally breathe again. White goo burst from my lips as I sobbed with heavy breaths, gulping desperately for lifegiving air. A sensation suddenly tore through me. I clapped my hand to my mouth as boiling magma surged up my throat. My belly was so full that I could not bend over. Instead, I fell face first into the floor and retched. Bubbling seed gushed down my chin and streamed all over my front to pool on the linoleum. 

Fereya scowled and crossed her arms. “Now is that any way to act before the witch-queen?” 

She planted her foot on my rump and shoved me hard. My hands slipped in the puddle of regurgitated semen and I flopped to the floor. Ugh, what happened? I turned my weary head towards the sink. With great choking heaves, I fumbled on my hands and knees, crawling across the kitchen floor.

Her semen ran down my engorged belly and onto the floor. “ I just cleaned this,” I whimpered.

My navel scraped the bare tile as I struggled for the sink, when Fereya’s hand grabbed my tail.

“Where do you think you’re going, little hero?” she growled.

“I-I just--,” I started to stammer. 

My entire front was covered in a slopping layer of her spunk. My fur was sticky and matted. I felt battered and ashamed, yet I could not look away from those scintillating fuschia orbs.

“Just thought you were leaving?” she chuckled. “I see that you finally are on your knees, your fat belly scraping the floor.”

My ears pricked up. She was right, I had to admit it.

“Now, it’s time that my dear, preggy-boy gave his queen proper obeisance.”

