Flee the dungeon. You can come back later with reinforcements to help rescue the rest of your party.

With how worn out and battered you are, you know that the safest and most logical plan to follow would be to escape while you can and live to fight another day. Casting a regretful glance towards the bodies of the fallen, you dodge around the Slime and head for the tunnel that had led your party to its doom. Though you are easily able to lose the slow-moving Slime, you realize that a three-hour journey through the winding, labyrinthine passages of the dungeon still stands between you and the safety of the surface.

Your progress through the tunnels is excruciatingly slow without the guidance of the group’s Hunter - a grizzled old man that had been one of the first to fall victim to the monsters. Though your party had cleared many monsters on the way down, you know that there are just as many creatures that would hide from a large group of adventurers but have no problems with ambushing a lone, **** girl such as yourself.

As if your situation isn’t bad enough, every tunnel you follow branches off into smaller side passages that lead off into the unknown, the soft phosphorescent glow of fungi growing on the floor and walls making each passage look the same. It does not take you long to realize that you are well and truly lost.

The strength you had mustered to resist the Slime has all but faded from your body and you feel your pussy lips twitch and your nipples harden under your armor as the effects of the Slime’s aphrodisiac comes back with a vengeance.

In a lust filled haze, you stumble blindly through the gloomy passages for what seems like days, leaving a sticky trail of your juices behind as it flows freely from your swollen vagina down your shapely legs. So lost in your own arousal, you completely fail to notice the soft padding noises made by the many small creatures that have picked up your scent and are now following the trail of honey continuously dripping from your sex.

The thought that something could be stalking you never even crosses your mind until they finally strike.

You do not feel the long and flexible tongue that wraps around your armor-clad right leg, but it certainly makes its presence known as it pulls your leg out from under you. Falling forwards onto your hands and knees, you look back fearfully at your latest attacker as your sword clatters out of your grip...