Princess to Pleasure Slave Collection: The Forbidden Book of Monstrous Pleasures

by Amanda Clover

  "I fear chasing off packs of wolves and catching brigands in Sunwood are not quite deeds to match the tales of true heroes," said Claudette. "But I will do whatever the people ask of me and hope someday we come across a worthy foe."

  "A monster?" wondered Gwen. "A dragon, perhaps?"

  "I would not think I could best a dragon," laughed Claudette. "Perhaps a very small one."

  The princess leaned in her saddled and offered her arm to Gwen. The petite scribe took it gratefully. The princess hauled up the scribe onto the saddle behind her.

  Gwen laced her arms around the princess's armored abdomen. She leaned her head against the body-warmed back of the armored cuirass.

  "Whatever you face," said Gwen, "I will be by your side to take down the tale of your deeds."

  The scribe could not see it, but the princess was smiling.

  Claudette and Gwen returned with their prisoners to the small village of Sunwood. It was a simple place of windmills, a clear stream, and fields of Harkanian wheat and cow pastures. There were perhaps a hundred homes. A few townsfolk came out of their thatched houses and hurled insults at the shackled brigands marching behind the horse.

  The elderly sheriff of Sunwood and his grandson had been overwhelmed by the bandits. The old man hobbled out into the road supported by his young companion to meet the princess.

  "You've caught them!" exclaimed the sheriff.

  "Yes," said Claudette. "There is a dead man in the clearing in the woods. See that the temple gives him a pauper's grave. These two should be spared the noose, but nothing else. They are vile criminals."

  "Yes, princess," said the old man. "We thank you for the aid you have given to our village. I promise by this time next year there will be a sheriff fit to replace my tired old bones."

  "Any other menaces?"

  The sheriff stroked his scraggly chin. "Not here, princess, but in the village of Normont in the shadow of Mon Cormigan I have heard there is a beast that preys upon women."

  "Normont, I've not heard of it."

  "It was a mining town in my youth. The vein has been mined out and the village is n steady decline. I think they might still quarry stone there, but it is unremarkable and does not bring much wealth to them." The sheriff shook his head. "To be honest, I had forgotten the town even existed until last week when a traveler brought news."

  "Of a beast?"

  "So he claimed, yes. The man was pale and you could see a great sadness in his eyes. He said that both his daughter and his wife had been taken by some beast that prowled the woods. No man had seen the creature, but it seemed as if nothing could protect their homes. They barred their doors and armed themselves, but it was no use. The creature would taken the young women and disappear. The man believed it was a curse related to their mining. A beast from inside the earth that they had awakened."

  "I do not have Normont on my official map, but if it is where you say then it is within my father's domain. It is my duty to investigate this."

  "If you leave now you should make it before nightfall," said the sheriff. "Take care, princess."

  Claudette and Gwen set off for Normont, following the old trade road that had once connected the farming community with the prosperous mining town. The sunny skies became overcast and the somber gray mass of Mon Cormigan rose from the horizon. The woods that followed the road became dark and the trees seemed to bend down with the gray weight of the sky.

  "Cheery place," said Gwen.

  "Cold too," said the princess. "My fur cloak is in the saddlebag. Wrap it about your shoulders to stay warm."

  "I am warm enough against you, but I will wrap it around us both."

  A light rain sparkled the furs that wrapped them both, their body heat shared beneath the heavy tundra wolf pelt. Claudette felt her lust stirring. She had felt it before with Gwen pressed against her back. They had been through a lot together and Claudette felt great affection for Gwen, but her attraction was a source of shame. The princess was a maiden still and knew the clerics of Tevos forbid women to become intimate.

  Claudette was glad when she was freed from her impure thoughts by spotting Normont in the distance. The dreary village appeared from the mists that shrouded the foothills of Cormigan. The tightly bunched buildings seemed to lean on one another for support. There was no paint to color the rotten timbers. The only ornament at all was the sign of Tevos atop the rusty steeple of Normont's temple.

  There was no one about in the road. Not even a dog or horse. The only evidence that the village was even occupied was the smoke rising from a few of the chimneys.

  "Look," said Gwen, pointing past Claudette. "There is an inn there. I'm sure they'll have a vacancy."

  The sign hung above the door announced the place as The Muckmen's Boots. A fittingly unpleasant name for a town as unwelcoming as Normont. Claudette tied her horse to the hitch and walked inside inn's tavern. Faint light spilled through the sooty windows, casting an early twilight over tables and chairs. A pair of hunched locals drank at the bar. They didn't even bother to look up from their drinks.

  The fat innkeeper, judging by his soiled apron, stirred beside the hearth as if waking up. He wore his grievances as an ugly scowl on his face. He had patchy hair and a pallor as if he was sick or hardly left the confines of his tavern.

  "Who're you?" he grumbled, rising unsteadily to his feet.

  Claudette's armor creaked and clanked as she strode up to the man. He looked at her as if he might spit at her feet. She looked at him as if she might strike him with the pommel of her sword.

  "I have been in Sunwood and heard tell that there have been some disappearances here in Normont. I come with the authority of the crown to investigate this matter."

  "Didn't answer me," said the innkeeper.

  "I am Claudette Chevalier, youngest daughter of the king," she said proudly.

  "A princess? I've nothing to say to a princess. Nothing fit for you either. Best you go along."

  "Two rooms and two hot meals," said Claudette. "And any information about these disappearances."

  The innkeeper, named Cyrus, grudgingly gave her the keys to rooms on the second floor and provided two bowls of slot and hot cider that tasted as if they had been made in the same filthy pot. Claudette might have been raised on the finest food and wine in the kingdom, but she had been on the road for weeks and appreciated any meal that warmed her belly. Gwen was more discerning and decided the cider was all she could stomach.

  Cyrus pleaded ignorance. No matter what question Claudette asked, the man seemed to be blind to the world around him. She gave up on him and was preparing to retire to her bed when one of the patrons came over to her table.

  He was a middle-aged man with a haunted expressions. His calloused hands suggested that he was a laborer of some sort, perhaps a miner. His treadbare coat and worn boots indicated to Claudette that the man had fallen on hard times.

  "I know of these disappearances," said the man. "I am called Burus. I know of these disappearances because the darkness took my wife and my daughter."

  "Sit down, tell us," suggested Gwen.

  "I'll pay for your drinks," offered Claudette.

  "There is no stopping this thing," said Burus. "It has taken near every woman in the town. Wives, daughters, it don't discriminate so long as they're of marrying age. No one has lived to see it. No door can hold it back. But it leaves a mark when it takes a woman. A foulness that dampens from threshold to cellar. I tell you this..."

  Emotion momentarily choked the man. Claudette reached out to comfort him and he jerked his hand away.

  "Burus, you mad old shit!" the innkeeper came out from the kitchen with a roar of anger. "Leave them be! Get out of here with your mad stories!"

  Burus cast a glance at the innkeeper and stumbled towards the door.

  "Get out of Normont! Get out while you can! This placed is cursed and nothing you can do about that! Go before the darkness takes you and your friend!" The man's face was twisted in despair as he backed towards t
he door.

  "Burus, please, we might be able to help your wife and daughter!" Claudette reached for him.

  "They're gone! They're all gone! All of them!" He pulled away and fled into the gathering night.

  Gwen murmured, "That was a bit troubling."

  "Don't listen to the fool," said the innkeeper. "His wife run off with a woodcutter from Tremanteen. Was no mystery she took her daughter with her."

  The innkeeper waddled back into the kitchen, leaving them to the silence of the empty tavern.

  "It is late," said Claudette. "Perhaps we should bed down for the night. I am tired and I smell under all this armor. It would be nice to have it off."

  "I'll fetch some hot water," said Gwen. "I would...be happy to help you undress."

  The scribe's face darkened with embarrassment. Claudette felt the same stirring in her tummy, the coiling spring of lust, that she had felt on the horse. She wanted to confess her feelings to Gwen, but she did not know how. Gwen seemed to follow Tevos. Would she be offended by the confession? Would she call Claudette a degenerate in the record she was making of their adventures?

  "You can at least help me off with this damned armor," said Claudette. "I can bathe myself."

  The innkeeper was relieved to see them retire to their rooms and he brought out a large basin of scalding hot water and a rind of black soap. Their rooms were equally small and shabby. Claudette's had no window, Gwen's room had a window, but also a sloped ceiling that forced her to duck as she entered the room. The mildew smell of the old straw mattresses filled the rooms.

  "It is better than sleeping outside in the rain," said Gwen, sounding as if she was trying to convince herself.

  Gwen brought the basin of water and soap into Claudette's room. The princess had removed her helm and chainmail coif upon entering the inn and she hung these from a hook by the door. Her hair spilled down to her shoulders and past them in waves of white gold.

  "Boots first," said Claudette. She intended to explain the process of removing her armor to the young scribe, asking for help only when necessary, but Gwen stepped in as if she were a squire. She knelt down and removed Claudette's iron-shod boots. She unfastened her grieves and cuirass and the heavy chainmail hauberk the princess wore beneath the breast plate.

  "I feel how hot this gets when I'm riding with you," said Gwen, lifting the chain shirt over Claudette's head. The scribe stripped the princess until the imposing warrior woman seemed to finally become human, standing in her sweat-soaked garments of padded wool.

  "You can leave it there," said Claudette.

  Gwen did not reply in words. The scribe's fingers unlaced the wool trousers and the wool chest pad. The garments were damp with Claudette's sweat. Without the heavy armor sealing in her body heat, the princess actually began to feel cold. That did not last long.

  Gwen opened the back of the shirt and pushed it up Claudette's bare shoulders. The princess's muscular back was lined with pressure from the laces. Red marked her shoulders and elbows where the weight of the armor pressed in on the garment. Claudette sighed as Gwen's soft hands caressed her naked back.

  "That is nice," murmured the princess.

  "Yes," agreed Gwen. "Let me bathe you, your highness."

  Claudette looked at the scribe's blue eyes, full of lust, and she could not resist her urges. She answered Gwen with a curt nod. The scribe's fingers and warm palms slid beneath the wool shirt and caressed Claudette's sides, her belly, and up to the softness of her breasts. The shirt parted from Claudette's shoulders and fell to the floor.

  "So beautiful," whispered Gwen, running her hands back up Claudette's muscular abdomen to the mounds of the princess's large breasts. Indentations from the chest strap of the armor crossed Claudette's youthful bosoms. Her puffy pink nipples were inverted from being compressed by the armor, but as Gwen's fingers danced over them they began to stiffen into their familiar fleshy shape. Gwen dunked a rag into the hot water and lathered it with the soap.

  Claudette gasped as the warm washcloth made contact with her breasts, soapy water pouring down her curves and slicking her toned tummy. She watched the scribe caressing her with the sudsy cloth, wiping away the grit of the road and caressing her breasts until they glistened. The cool air tingled against her wet nipples and they stiffened so hard that they ached.

  "They're so much bigger than mine," moaned Gwen, lifting and squeezing Claudette's breasts. "I remember...when I saw you in court and you wore a lavender bodice with flowers in your hair...I thought they might spill out."

  "I thought you were looking at my necklace," said Claudette.

  Gwen's fingers teased back and forth over the princess's soapy nipples. Claudette hissed with pleasure as each touch stoked the furnace between her thighs.

  "That's just what I told you," said Gwen. "Although the way the necklace settled, with that ruby just here..."

  Gwen pressed two fingers into the entrance of the valley formed by Claudette's breasts. The scribe let those fingers trail down, between them, pressing into the weight of Claudette's cleavage and momentarily dividing her heavy breasts before allowing them to jiggle back into place.

  Claudette moaned with arousal, but her hands were not idle. She finished unlacing her trousers, wiggling them below her bottom to let them drop from down her thighs. Claudette's body was hard from her training, but her hips were womanly and her bottom remained soft and plump. She wore nothing beneath her trousers, save for the pale white down upon her cunt, and the red pattern of the chain leggings on her thighs like sheer stockings.

  "Shall I wash you there as well, your highness?" asked Gwen.

  Claudette answered her with a kiss. There was no more hiding her feelings. No more lies of averted gazed and chewed lips. The taller princess bent forward and pressed her lips to Gwen's. The connection steamed and Gwen parted her lips and gratefully took Claudette's probing tongue into her mouth. The princess held Gwen tightly in her powerful arms, pulling the slender scribe against the soapy wetness of her bosom and soaking her gown.

  "Yes," cried Gwen, into the kiss. "I've wanted you since that day in court...I've...harbored..."

  "Quiet," commanded Claudette, pushing Gwen back onto the straw-stuffed mattress.

  Claudette's burning lust guided her every movement as she used her body to part Gwen's legs and ran her hand up the scribe's inner thigh. Gwen responded with another cry of pleasure, her mouth hanging open in disbelief. The young scribe threw her head back into the mattress as the princess bunched Gwen's gown at her waist and tore away the silky wrap of her panties.

  Claudette marveled at the milky perfection of the scribe's slender legs. She ran her fingers over the smooth skin and tickled the red-thatched mound. It was so soft and warm beneath her fingertips. The scribe squirmed against the mattress as if she could hardly endure the touch.

  The princess had seen her sister naked before, had even admired her body, but it had been a purely academic study devoid of lust. This was different. The first time she had seen and touched a woman for pleasure. It filled her with a hot rush of forbidden excitement. Claudette delighted in the way the scribe quivered against her fingers and how, when she dragged her fingernails lightly up her pale thigh, red marks appeared upon Gwen's flesh.

  Claudette lowered her body between Gwen's parted legs. She trailed her lips along the scribe's delicate inner thighs, teasing with kisses and the tip of her tongue. She inhaled the sweetness of her arousal, a perfume that was at once light and flower y and rich and forbidden.

  "You're going to...your highness...no..."

  "Yesss," hissed Claudette as her lips met the dewy mound of Gwen's cunt.

  Her teasing ended in that moment and she split Gwen's flower with the eager wedge of her tongue, thrusting into the honeyed channel and tasting, for the first time, the sweetness of a woman. Both young women cried out at the revelation. Gwen, grabbing Claudette's pale blond locks and holding tight as if she might fly off the bed, and Claudette, gasping hot breath against the sweet velvet o
f Gwen's cunt.

  Claudette slid her shoulders beneath Gwen's slender legs and pressed her face tightly against her delicate mound. The young scribe was so tight and eager that the princess felt Gwen's hot cunt flexing around her thrusting tongue.

  The princess was experienced only in fantasies she immersed herself in while touching herself in the bath, but she knew the tiny bud atop Gwen's quim was the source of great pleasure so she sought it out with her tongue. It was a fleshy bead hidden at the peak of Gwen's folds. With a deft tongue, Claudette exposed Gwen's clit and lashed it relentlessly. Gwen's legs flexed against Claudette's shoulders and the scribe cried out and thrust her silky cunt against Claudette's tongue.

  "Cl-Claudette...I'm...aaaaaAAHH!" Gwen lost the ability to speak, thrusting wildly against Claudette's devilish tongue. The young scribe's body grew tight with pleasure and flexed against the princess's mouth. Gwen worked the honeyed groove of her cunt against the hardness of Claudette's tongue. She crushed her thighs around the princess and lifted her firm little bottom off the mattress to push her body against Claudette's face.

  "Mmmmmmmmm, yes, cum for me," moaned the princess, lashing the scribe's straining clit. She moaned and sucked and licked at the sweet folds of Gwen's cunt. Gwen's thighs flexed tight around the princess's head and Claudette loved it. She did not care, in that sweet, juicy moment, if the little scribe crushed her head like a walnut between her thighs.

  Gwen relaxed from the toe-curling intensity of her climax. Her thighs slipped from Claudette's shoulders and the princess slid her tongue from the pink flower of Gwen's cunt. The scribe collapsed onto the mattress and the princess was immediately atop her.

  Although the scribe was mellowed by her orgasm, the hard edge of lust remained with the princess. The larger woman kissed her way up Gwen's tummy, lifting the scribe's gown above the perky plums of her breasts. Claudette ran her tongue over the pink pebbles of Gwen's nipples and sucked for a moment on one and then the other. Her lips popped on the tender flesh of Gwen's breasts. The scribe's nipples glistened.