"No way," you say, mustering all the courage and control your lust-addled mind has to offer.
The queen tsks her tongue, squeezing her grip around your cock until you moan and squirm, unable to get away. "I-if you have to breed someone, take me! Leave Sylvia out of this."
<<Charisma Check: Success (5 vs. 12)!>>
"How very noble of you," Remystra chuckles, releasing her grip. You stumble back, almost falling on your ass. She follows through, giving you a ghostly push that plants you on the ground, legs splayed beneath her. "Color me impressed, darling daughter. You're very brave, but... reckless. Still, a salamander will always be a better mother to my brood than a softskin. I accept."
She smirks down at you, peeling off the mail top of her outfit to reveal a pair of full, high breasts, a little bigger than your own. Her armor clatters to the ground, and the dark queen lowers herself gracefully onto her knees, straddling your hips. Your dick comes free of its confines with a playful tug, pulling your robes aside around your waist. But Remystra's not interested in your masculine tool: you lose the chance to use that already. Instead, she pushes it flat against your belly, getting the turgid black shaft out of the way and letting her hands play across the lips of your feminine sex.
A shiver wrackes you, fingers of cold spreading through your mons to your clit, and out towards your thighs and hips. One of her claws slips inside you, parting your lips and tracing ever so gently through your depths. A second finger follows, spreading you open, filling you with a deeper, more urgent sense of cold. Cold, but also pleasure. Tingling ecstasy follows the spectral chill, a feeling that ends with a grip on your chest that makes you arch your back and moan for her.
"Any salamander I knew would have been fighting to put me on my back by now," the queen murmurs, running another hand across your breast. "Where's your fire, girl? Just going to let me play with you like a blushing maiden? Or..." her fingers probe deeper, and your breath catches. "Oh! Oh, Remielle, what's this? A woman as beautiful and lusty-eyed as you, unblemished?"
The queen licks her lips, and her hand withdraws. "My, my, you are full of surprises. I suppose I'll have to be gentle, won't I?"
She runs her hand up her thigh, brushing aside her lower garb. A shimmering pussy greets your gaze, slick with excitement and slightly agape. The queen speaks a word of power and touches a finger to the flesh just above her slit. When she brings her hand away, her body morphs to follow it, growing into the familiar form of a bulbous-based pointed shaft -- a ghostly mirror of your own, throbbing in her grip and beading with pre.
"I normally offer to teach my lovers the spell but," Remystra coos, flicking a claw across your cockring. "I see someone beat me to it."
She chuckles and rocks her hips forward, aligning the tapered crown of her prick with your virginal sex. "Now just lie back and think of the glory of your tribe's return."
The queen leans over you, dominating your vision with swaying breasts and falling locks of shadowed hair. Her hips roll forward, and your breath catches; there's a moment of sharp, tearing pain, then a soothing fullness as her pride spreads you wider and wider. It takes all your willpower not to scream -- you don't need the minotaurs and worse waking up and butting in -- but you can't help but moan and squirm, clawing at the ground until the queen laughs and grabs your hands, planting them on her breasts. Though ghostly-cold, they're as soft and fleshy as any mortal's should have been and completely fill your grasp, spilling out between your fingers.
The queen leans close, so low that your chests nearly touch, and the hair falling around her shoulders frames her face and yours, an auburn veil that blocks out the rest of the world. "That's better," she murmurs into your ear. You gasp as something large and heavy presses against your sex: the thick base of her cock. Is it really all inside you? Gods, you do feel full now, stretched out on her reptilian spike like never before. Your own prick jumps weakly, thumping against the queen's chiseled belly; it's pinned tightly between your bodies, and soon every little breath and motion between you is masturbating it.
"Excited?" your ancestor smirks, reaching down to caress your ringed cockhead again. The touch sends such a shiver down your spine that you nearly lose control. "I remember my first time being bred, too. He wasn't nearly so gentle as I am, but one thrust had me screaming and cumming for him all the same. You're doing well! Don't hold back on my account, though -- I can feel that little staff of yours swelling already. Go on."
Remystra's words are like a compulsion -- maybe they are at that -- and the moment she bids you to release, you feel the familiar rush climbing up your pinned cock, and an utterly unfamiliar sensation of wild clenching, yet you're never able to fully squeeze down all the way, instead just milking the queen's slowly-pistoning prick inside you. A wet heat squirts across your belly, smearing the undersides of your breasts and splattering on your neck. Before you can react, the queen plunges down, running her tongue across your tits and lapping up the steaming spunk. She grins down and then kisses you, thrusting her tongue -- slathered with your cum -- into your mouth.
Your eyes go wide in surprise, but you're too overwhelmed by orgasmic pleasure to resist. The playful queen has you suckling your own jizz from her lips and tongue, sharing the salty, bitter bounty of your loins one mouthful at a time. You're too occupied to do more than whimper and arch your back as her hips move faster, thrusting deeper into your drooling womanhood the more involved your oral exchange becomes.
Only one final, violent thrust snaps you back with a gasping cry. The queen's thick base hammers against your pussylips, spreading you wider than you've ever been stretched before. A flood of ghost-cold seed spills into you from the throbbing shaft, smearing across your inner walls. The queen buries her lips into yours, kissing you fiercely until her orgasm passes, filling your womb so thoroughly that cool jizz leaks out around her rod, trickling down your ass and pooling on the ground.
"There's my girl," Remystra purrs into your ear, running her claws along your cheek. Inside, you can feel her cock throbbing, slowly discharging the last of her otherworldly seed. "Mmm, you'll be swelling with child in no time. Best enjoy this adventure while you can -- I need you wealthy, powerful, and comfortable before you start raising my heir."
You moan softly in response, licking off a little cum from your lips. Rather than withdrawing from you, the queen's cock slowly recedes into her body, merging back with her crotch. She's left lying atop you, resting on her elbows and knees, wings curling around your entwined bodies.
A long moment passes before the queen languidly rises to her knees and stretches out. "I'm afraid we don't have much time left, love. I can feel the void pulling me back already. A shame. But you had questions, didn't you?"
You blink, taken aback by Remystra's sudden shift from passionate lover to cold, alluring queen once more. But she's not wrong: you summoned her for a reason beyond just deflowering and impregnating you. Ye Gods, that's something to think about, now that your mind's clearing... what have you done to yourself?
You shake the thought and ask what you promised: has the queen, resident spirit that she is, seen the amazon shamaness Neva pass through?
"I have," she answers simple. "About a week ago, another oversized smoothskin wandered through the keep. Headed down into the dungeons all by herself. Poor thing's probably been trussed up or eaten by the feral greenskins living down there."
"Feral greenskins?"
The queen shrugs. "Lizard-folk. Our lesser cousins, lacking flame and pride alike. They've taken to covering themselves in some horrid fungus lately, spreading their stink out from the caverns into my keep. Hopefully a certain pyromancer will take it upon herself to burn them away."
Guess that's the best you're getting. "So, where're the books?"
"Finally, to business. You've more than earned your prize, my darling daughter; I haven't had that much fun in centuries. What you're after first is my crown: it is enchanted to ward away the curses protecting my treasures. I think I was buried with it -- down in the crypts, on the other side from where the walls have collapsed into those damned caves under the castle. My tomb is the largest and most regal, surrounded by my peerless knights. You can't miss it. Wear the crown when you pass through the secret door, hidden behind the dragon statue in the center of the undercroft. My vault lies just beyond, full of magic tomes and gold and more, just as you wanted. The crown, and anything you find of mine, is yours with my blessing. Ha, take the keep itself, too. I've little use for any of it, now."
Well, that sounds easy enough. Though there's likely to be a pack of minotaurs between you and the keep interior. Any suggestions?
"Bend over and present -- you've got a talent for it, I think," Remystra grins, showing her fangs. "Minotaurs don't hurt or enslave what willingly lifts its tail, I've found. And they're so much more agreeable when those wonderfully huge, churning balls are empty. Hope you like a crowd, though: there's plenty of the big brutes inside."
Wonder how the queen's twat got so loosened up, now that you think about it... "That's not exactly helpful advice."
"No, but it's what I'll give you. Sneak by them or light them on fire, Remi. You're a big girl, figure it out. Then again, your friend is still under my sway. You could always send her in as a distraction... but that seems much too cruel for my noble little 'mander, hmm?"
She laughs and circles around, tapping Sylvia with her boot. The amazon is sitting on her ass against the wall, breathing slowly, hands still grasping her axe. Her eyes are open, but unfocused and distant. "Just tell her 'awaken,' if you want. Otherwise she'll come to in an hour or so," the queen assures you.
"Unfortunately," she continues, stepping from Sylvia to you. "I grow weary, dear. My rest, however fitful, calls again. Do be careful -- you're carrying the hope of our race, on several levels. I expect great things, Remielle."
Remystra leans in and plants a parting kiss on your cheek. A tingling chill is all that's left when you blink; she's vanished, though the musky fluids coating yourself and the stone assure you her presence was no mere hallucination. Taking a deep breath, you recover your robes and staff, and look ahead...
The queen tsks her tongue, squeezing her grip around your cock until you moan and squirm, unable to get away. "I-if you have to breed someone, take me! Leave Sylvia out of this."
<<Charisma Check: Success (5 vs. 12)!>>
"How very noble of you," Remystra chuckles, releasing her grip. You stumble back, almost falling on your ass. She follows through, giving you a ghostly push that plants you on the ground, legs splayed beneath her. "Color me impressed, darling daughter. You're very brave, but... reckless. Still, a salamander will always be a better mother to my brood than a softskin. I accept."
She smirks down at you, peeling off the mail top of her outfit to reveal a pair of full, high breasts, a little bigger than your own. Her armor clatters to the ground, and the dark queen lowers herself gracefully onto her knees, straddling your hips. Your dick comes free of its confines with a playful tug, pulling your robes aside around your waist. But Remystra's not interested in your masculine tool: you lose the chance to use that already. Instead, she pushes it flat against your belly, getting the turgid black shaft out of the way and letting her hands play across the lips of your feminine sex.
A shiver wrackes you, fingers of cold spreading through your mons to your clit, and out towards your thighs and hips. One of her claws slips inside you, parting your lips and tracing ever so gently through your depths. A second finger follows, spreading you open, filling you with a deeper, more urgent sense of cold. Cold, but also pleasure. Tingling ecstasy follows the spectral chill, a feeling that ends with a grip on your chest that makes you arch your back and moan for her.
"Any salamander I knew would have been fighting to put me on my back by now," the queen murmurs, running another hand across your breast. "Where's your fire, girl? Just going to let me play with you like a blushing maiden? Or..." her fingers probe deeper, and your breath catches. "Oh! Oh, Remielle, what's this? A woman as beautiful and lusty-eyed as you, unblemished?"
The queen licks her lips, and her hand withdraws. "My, my, you are full of surprises. I suppose I'll have to be gentle, won't I?"
She runs her hand up her thigh, brushing aside her lower garb. A shimmering pussy greets your gaze, slick with excitement and slightly agape. The queen speaks a word of power and touches a finger to the flesh just above her slit. When she brings her hand away, her body morphs to follow it, growing into the familiar form of a bulbous-based pointed shaft -- a ghostly mirror of your own, throbbing in her grip and beading with pre.
"I normally offer to teach my lovers the spell but," Remystra coos, flicking a claw across your cockring. "I see someone beat me to it."
She chuckles and rocks her hips forward, aligning the tapered crown of her prick with your virginal sex. "Now just lie back and think of the glory of your tribe's return."
The queen leans over you, dominating your vision with swaying breasts and falling locks of shadowed hair. Her hips roll forward, and your breath catches; there's a moment of sharp, tearing pain, then a soothing fullness as her pride spreads you wider and wider. It takes all your willpower not to scream -- you don't need the minotaurs and worse waking up and butting in -- but you can't help but moan and squirm, clawing at the ground until the queen laughs and grabs your hands, planting them on her breasts. Though ghostly-cold, they're as soft and fleshy as any mortal's should have been and completely fill your grasp, spilling out between your fingers.
The queen leans close, so low that your chests nearly touch, and the hair falling around her shoulders frames her face and yours, an auburn veil that blocks out the rest of the world. "That's better," she murmurs into your ear. You gasp as something large and heavy presses against your sex: the thick base of her cock. Is it really all inside you? Gods, you do feel full now, stretched out on her reptilian spike like never before. Your own prick jumps weakly, thumping against the queen's chiseled belly; it's pinned tightly between your bodies, and soon every little breath and motion between you is masturbating it.
"Excited?" your ancestor smirks, reaching down to caress your ringed cockhead again. The touch sends such a shiver down your spine that you nearly lose control. "I remember my first time being bred, too. He wasn't nearly so gentle as I am, but one thrust had me screaming and cumming for him all the same. You're doing well! Don't hold back on my account, though -- I can feel that little staff of yours swelling already. Go on."
Remystra's words are like a compulsion -- maybe they are at that -- and the moment she bids you to release, you feel the familiar rush climbing up your pinned cock, and an utterly unfamiliar sensation of wild clenching, yet you're never able to fully squeeze down all the way, instead just milking the queen's slowly-pistoning prick inside you. A wet heat squirts across your belly, smearing the undersides of your breasts and splattering on your neck. Before you can react, the queen plunges down, running her tongue across your tits and lapping up the steaming spunk. She grins down and then kisses you, thrusting her tongue -- slathered with your cum -- into your mouth.
Your eyes go wide in surprise, but you're too overwhelmed by orgasmic pleasure to resist. The playful queen has you suckling your own jizz from her lips and tongue, sharing the salty, bitter bounty of your loins one mouthful at a time. You're too occupied to do more than whimper and arch your back as her hips move faster, thrusting deeper into your drooling womanhood the more involved your oral exchange becomes.
Only one final, violent thrust snaps you back with a gasping cry. The queen's thick base hammers against your pussylips, spreading you wider than you've ever been stretched before. A flood of ghost-cold seed spills into you from the throbbing shaft, smearing across your inner walls. The queen buries her lips into yours, kissing you fiercely until her orgasm passes, filling your womb so thoroughly that cool jizz leaks out around her rod, trickling down your ass and pooling on the ground.
"There's my girl," Remystra purrs into your ear, running her claws along your cheek. Inside, you can feel her cock throbbing, slowly discharging the last of her otherworldly seed. "Mmm, you'll be swelling with child in no time. Best enjoy this adventure while you can -- I need you wealthy, powerful, and comfortable before you start raising my heir."
You moan softly in response, licking off a little cum from your lips. Rather than withdrawing from you, the queen's cock slowly recedes into her body, merging back with her crotch. She's left lying atop you, resting on her elbows and knees, wings curling around your entwined bodies.
A long moment passes before the queen languidly rises to her knees and stretches out. "I'm afraid we don't have much time left, love. I can feel the void pulling me back already. A shame. But you had questions, didn't you?"
You blink, taken aback by Remystra's sudden shift from passionate lover to cold, alluring queen once more. But she's not wrong: you summoned her for a reason beyond just deflowering and impregnating you. Ye Gods, that's something to think about, now that your mind's clearing... what have you done to yourself?
You shake the thought and ask what you promised: has the queen, resident spirit that she is, seen the amazon shamaness Neva pass through?
"I have," she answers simple. "About a week ago, another oversized smoothskin wandered through the keep. Headed down into the dungeons all by herself. Poor thing's probably been trussed up or eaten by the feral greenskins living down there."
"Feral greenskins?"
The queen shrugs. "Lizard-folk. Our lesser cousins, lacking flame and pride alike. They've taken to covering themselves in some horrid fungus lately, spreading their stink out from the caverns into my keep. Hopefully a certain pyromancer will take it upon herself to burn them away."
Guess that's the best you're getting. "So, where're the books?"
"Finally, to business. You've more than earned your prize, my darling daughter; I haven't had that much fun in centuries. What you're after first is my crown: it is enchanted to ward away the curses protecting my treasures. I think I was buried with it -- down in the crypts, on the other side from where the walls have collapsed into those damned caves under the castle. My tomb is the largest and most regal, surrounded by my peerless knights. You can't miss it. Wear the crown when you pass through the secret door, hidden behind the dragon statue in the center of the undercroft. My vault lies just beyond, full of magic tomes and gold and more, just as you wanted. The crown, and anything you find of mine, is yours with my blessing. Ha, take the keep itself, too. I've little use for any of it, now."
Well, that sounds easy enough. Though there's likely to be a pack of minotaurs between you and the keep interior. Any suggestions?
"Bend over and present -- you've got a talent for it, I think," Remystra grins, showing her fangs. "Minotaurs don't hurt or enslave what willingly lifts its tail, I've found. And they're so much more agreeable when those wonderfully huge, churning balls are empty. Hope you like a crowd, though: there's plenty of the big brutes inside."
Wonder how the queen's twat got so loosened up, now that you think about it... "That's not exactly helpful advice."
"No, but it's what I'll give you. Sneak by them or light them on fire, Remi. You're a big girl, figure it out. Then again, your friend is still under my sway. You could always send her in as a distraction... but that seems much too cruel for my noble little 'mander, hmm?"
She laughs and circles around, tapping Sylvia with her boot. The amazon is sitting on her ass against the wall, breathing slowly, hands still grasping her axe. Her eyes are open, but unfocused and distant. "Just tell her 'awaken,' if you want. Otherwise she'll come to in an hour or so," the queen assures you.
"Unfortunately," she continues, stepping from Sylvia to you. "I grow weary, dear. My rest, however fitful, calls again. Do be careful -- you're carrying the hope of our race, on several levels. I expect great things, Remielle."
Remystra leans in and plants a parting kiss on your cheek. A tingling chill is all that's left when you blink; she's vanished, though the musky fluids coating yourself and the stone assure you her presence was no mere hallucination. Taking a deep breath, you recover your robes and staff, and look ahead...
I wouldn't count her a total sub though, but she is a strongly inclined switch. 
