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

by Amanda Clover

  Do I please you...master?

  The minotaur lifted his head, his lips pulling back in a savage smile. He stroked her chin and pushed her cum-swamped hair from her face.

  "More than any mare ever has," said the minotaur inside the princess's mind. "I know you will give me many handsome bulls."

  Kala was surprised to realize that the thought made her happy. If she had been told, mere days ago, that she would become the brood mare to a minotaur, she would have be horrified. The reality of it was not so terrible. In fact, the new connection to her mate...her master...had deepened her enjoyment of being used for his pleasure. She understood, at last, how the slave women endured their lives of sexual servitude. If you could accept it, if you could submit to the pleasure, it could become liberating.

  The next morning, they set out again. Kala wore the rope around her neck once more and her naked body was draped with the furs. The blue skies and puffy, white clouds stretched to the horizon. There were no more forests, no mountains, nothing but the comforting open country between them and their destination.

  It was midday when they first spotted the smudges of gray smoke in the distance. An hour more when they began to smell the cookfires and hear the metal tang of a smithy. The minotaurs were a nomadic people, like the Kornasi, but without the apparent need for pack animals or mounts. Their village was an impressive version of the moot Kala had escaped; a collection of tents and temporary wooden structures purpose-built. It looked to Kala as if they had been camped here, on the peninsula into the Silver Sea, for perhaps a week.

  Minotaurs armed with spears and axes emerged from the camp to meet them as Kala and her master drew near. The minotaurs came in a surprising variety of shapes and sizes, with heads that ranged from the hyper-masculine bull like her master to a more horse-like bestial head with a long snout. Some were imposing hulks, like her master, more than twice as large as any man. Others were hardly larger than Kala despite their well-defined physiques.

  "Are there no women?" asked the princess aloud. The minotaur yanked roughly on her rope, nearly sprawling her out on the ground.

  "Speak only in your mind!" he chastised. "You are my slave. Do not disrespect me with your voice."

  I am sorry, master. I only wished to know why there were no women.

  "The females of our kind dwell in the Valley of Isbek, where we have built a true city. We are but a hunting herd and only bring with us human slaves for pleasure and to carry our seed."

  The minotaurs surrounded them and spoke to Kala's master in loud grunts and snorts. She could not imagine what they were doing was a real language. It seemed no different than the way simple animals communicated. A large, red-furred bull grabbed Kala's furs and yanked them from her shoulders. Her large breasts were exposed and several of the minotaurs grunted with apparent approval. One reached for her breasts. She cringed away and her master yanked her by her rope and snarled at the other minotaur.

  Kala's master wrapped her rope around his fist several times to reel her closer. She nearly pressed up against him out of fear, although she tried to look brave. Hard to do with her breasts on full display and her lower body only barely covered by a fur wrapped around her wide hips.

  They moved into the village, surrounded and followed by a crowd of minotaurs. They reached one of the wooden structures and ducked inside, into a large hall that reminded her of the barns constructed for horses by the soft, village-dwellers her father used to raid. There were no stalls, but the floor was covered with straw and light streamed in through open shutters.

  Kala and her master approached a sitting minotaur. He stood up slowly as they came closer and his size nearly stole Kala's breath away. He was a head again taller than her master, his body and face, a dark gray, almost black, with fringes of gray as if he was old and slowly going white. The massive slab of his chest was marked with many scars and one black eye had clouded over to white. It was impossible for her not to look at the minotaur's fat cocksheath and dangling bollocks. They were banded with gold rings and hanging charms.

  Who is he?

  "Herd Master Gorehorn," said her master without looking at her.

  Gorehorn began to speak in the growling, grunting voice of the minotaurs. Even though she could not make sense of it as any sort of language, she felt the deep, resonant voice in her chest and understood why this creature led his herd. From time to time he seemed to address a question directly to Kala's master and her master replied with grunts and a nodding head. At one point he gestured to Kala and yanked her rope so she was forced to take a step towards Gorehorn.

  "He is displeased that I have killed humans. He says that he may take you from me and give you over to the herd as punishment."

  Tell him...tell him I am a human princess.

  Her master turned his head and looked at her incredulously.

  Master, it is truth. I am the daughter of a Kan. He was betrayed and I was trying to escape. Those men you killed were slaughtering my people.

  "If I tell him you are a princess, he may claim you for himself," said her master.

  I don't want that, Master. She reached out and took her master's huge hand. The room fell silent at the unexpected gesture. Tell him that I am a princess and that I have told you that the Kornasi are...the horse tribes are vulnerable now. They are fighting among themselves. If ever you sought a chance to crush them and claim the steppes for yourself, now would be the time."

  Kala's devious thoughts came as a surprise to the princess. She had not realized the anger she felt towards Markta and his treacherous followers. If any in her family still survived...

  Tell him, master. It is the truth.

  Her master did not question her further. He turned to Gorehorn and began to speak in the simple language of the minotaurs. After a long exchange of grunts and snorts, the huge herdmaster raised both mighty fists and bellowed. Roars and snorts rallied from all the other minotaurs.

  What is it? asked Kala.

  "He believes your story. The other scouts have spotted some refugees escaping battle among the humans. He has taken your word and he plans to drive the humans from the steppes."

  My family was...

  "If any among your family survive, they will be saved."

  Thank you! Kala hugged her master as the minotaurs continued to cheer and stomp their hooves.

  "Tonight I will mate you, little one. Are you prepared for this?"

  More than ever, master. She looked up at him, her breasts pressed tightly against his body. I love you, master.

  "My name is Ironhorn," said her master. "You may call me by that name."

  I will call it out with pleasure when you are filling me with your seed.

  "This," he stroked her head, "is why minotaurs prefer humans for breeding. Come. Let us celebrate the defeat of your enemies."

  The minotaurs built a huge bonfire that roared with life in the starry night. They began to beat drums and dance by the light of the fire. Kala and Irohorn drank the fermented milkwine from overflowing flasks. They celebrated beside Gorehorn, who seemed to have become a good friend of Kala's master.

  Women, human women, appeared from the tents. Some were heavy with children. Others were comely, their hair arranged in unusual braided fashion and their bodies naked save for gold and silver chain and bracelets. Some were heavily tattooed, like the woodswomen of the Endless Forest, some were fair-haired and pale like women of the Iron Coast, others, buxom and tan, looked as if they might have been Kala's kinswomen.

  The women attended their masters, serving them food, refilling their stone cups with milkwine, and stroking their heads. As the drunken revelry grew, many began to service their masters sexually. Kala watched the women, stroking and licking and sucking the huge cocks of their minotaur masters. Some climbed into their lips and bounced on the great spears of minotaur cockmeat. The occasional bellowed growl and sudden spurting of cum caught Kala's attention each time.

  "The drink warms your body?" asked Ironhorn.

  She
looked up at him.

  The drink and the company. Even the herd master takes his pleasure.

  Kala glanced at the huge, gray-furred minotaur. Two lovely women were sharing the fleshy column of his cock, giggling and running their breasts and hands and tongues all over his petrified member. A slender slavegirl was pressed almost flat to the ground and slowly caressing Gorehorn's fat bollocks with her pink tongue. Her small bottom wiggled with excitement as she pleasured her master.

  "He is showing off his humans." The minotaur caressed her face, smoothing the hair away. "He is jealous that I have you, but too honorable to claim you for himself."

  Why would he be jealous? Because I am a princess?

  "He is jealous because you are the most beautiful, little one."

  Kala's hand slid over Ironhorn's furry thigh. Her fingers made contact with the smooth, warm sheath of his cock. She looked into his black eyes and caressed him, gently, and then wrapping her fingers around the thick weight of his sheath and lifting it in her palm. He began to stir almost immediately. He lifted his arm so that she could lean across his leg, her breasts falling against his furry thigh, her face falling into his lap. She began to lick him and gently stroke him and his cock began to emerge, pink, huge, and glorious, from its sheath.

  Kala put both hands to work and ran her tongue from the root of Ironhorn's cock to the flattened bluntness of the tip. Some of the minotaurs that did not have human slavegirls stopped in their dancing and revelry to watch the beautiful princess. They snorted with lust. Their cocks slipped out and they began to stroke them as Kala ran her tongue all over her master's stony pole.

  She lifted her ass off the wooden bench on which she sat and stood before her master. Her ass was a mocking invitation to the other minotaurs. Her wet cunt, hairless and pink, a reminder that she belonged to Ironhorn. She opened her lips wide, pressing the heat of her mouth onto the fat head of Ironhorn's cock. Her master grunted loudly as her tongue lashed his leaking slit and her hands stroked the trunk of his cock. His bollocks shifted. He thrust upwards, ever so slightly, pushing the huge head of his cock against the back of Kala's throat.

  She worked up a rhythm, letting her spit soak down his shaft and lubricate her stroking hands. Ironhorn's massive balls began to tighten against his shaft. The salty flow of his precum washed into her mouth.

  He sat up suddenly, pulling her from his cock with a gasp, spit trailing from the plump oval of her lips to the straining head of the minotaur's cock. She looked up at him, confused.

  "I do not wish to spill my seed into your belly," said the minotaur. "Come with me. We will put the breeding stand to use."

  Ironhorn did not even wait for Kala to follow him. He scooped her up in his arms and carried her past the dancers, past the raging bonfire, and to a portion of the camp she had not seen before. The drumming became distant. Kala stared up dreamily at her master. She caressed the stone slab of his chest and thought about what it would mean to be bred by the massive minotaur. She did not have any worries in that moment. She was too drunk, too rapturously in love, and too turned on to be concerned.

  The hoarse cry of a woman caught her attention. Kala looked up to see a huge minotaur with one broken horn standing behind a voluptuous human woman. The woman was standing on a platform of wood and leaning forward over a padded structure like a woodworker's sawhorse. It had a scooped front that cradled and lifted her huge breasts, but allowed them to overhang the sawhorse. The woman's tilted hips and her broad bottom, with the help of the raised platform, presented a perfect target for the minotaur rutting into her juicy cunt.

  The woman cried out and the minotaur roared with pleasure. He held her hips tightly and sloshed his massive cock into her stretched groove. Kala watched the minotaur's pink cock visibly throbbing. Cum spewed out around his shaft and gushed down the woman's trembling legs. The minotaur's strokes slowed. He stopped moving, but remained with his cock wedged deep inside her. Kala looked at the woman enviously, imagining the impossible fullness of the minotaur's unfurled cockhead pressing against her womb.

  "By the Plainswalker!" whispered Kala.

  "That is Batterhoof. He is more than kin. He is friend. That is his breeding slave, Gullis."

  Ironhorn set Kala down. The earth beneath her feet was worn in a path leading up to the breeding stand and the area around it was heavily trampled by many human feet and minotaur hooves. The earthy musk of spilled seed was thick in the air. It only inflamed Kala's desire to have Ironhorn's cock inside her.

  "I can hear your lust," said Ironhorn.

  He stroked her shoulder and slowly slid his big, rough hand down her back to gently squeeze the plump bubble of her ass. She pushed back against his hand. She rubbed herself against his fingers and made an unseemly displaying of bending over and sliding her cunt over his palm.

  The minotaur called Batterhoof slid his shrinking cock out of his slavegirl and it fell against his thigh with a wet thump. Kala moaned as cum poured out of the slavegirl Gullis's stretched cunt. Her pink opening held its gaping shape for a long while so that Kala was able to see inside her where her lovely fuck tunnel was awash in her master's cream.

  Batterhoof seemed to look Kala over as she ground her ass against Ironhorn's outstretched hand and rough fingers. He exchanged simple snorting words and barks of laughter with Ironhorn.

  What does he say? demanded Kala.

  "He says that my mare is in heat. He apologizes for taking so long and then he said that I would surely be quick with a breeding slave so comely as you."

  Invite him to watch, suggested Kala. I enjoyed his performance with Gullis. It is only fair we repay their hospitality.

  "You are a wicked one," laughed Ironhoof. "Let it be so!"

  Batterhoof lifted his exhausted slavegirl up from the breeding stand and carried her out of the way so that Kala could take her place. She swung her hips as she climbed onto the platform and leaned her upper body onto the padded bench that would hold her weight. Her large breasts slid onto the scooped frontpiece of the bench, which provided support for her sternum, but allowed her breasts to drop over the edge and dangle beneath her.

  The entire bench was angled slightly downward to force her hips to tilt and her ass to spread. More importantly, it offered the perfect angle for a huge minotaur cock to enter her juicy cunt as deeply as possible. Kala look over her shoulder, across her back and the raised heart of her rump, and to her minotaur lover as he stepped behind her. His huge cock was in his hand. The folded head glistened with his precum. He stroked the pink shaft and pressed against the velvet opening of her fuckhole.

  Claim me, she spoke into his mind. Claim my royal cunt for your seed.

  Ironhorn snarled with vicious lust and drove his cock into the wet tightness of her waiting cunt. She cried aloud as he skewered her, stretching her tender sex in a single forceful stroke, making her take every inch her body would allow. Kala did not know if minotaurs mated for life, but she knew that no human man would ever satisfy her again.

  The pain was there to remind her of Ironhorn's ruinous size, but without the fear that the minotaur might kill her Kala was able to enjoy the pleasurable sensations. She felt every ridge and vein in Ironhorn's immense cock as he fed it slowly in and out. His shaft dragged against her clit. His bollocks spanked the backs of her thighs.

  It's so good. I need it all. I need it all inside me.

  "Don't be greedy," replied Ironhorn. "Your little human cunt will get exactly as much as it deserves."

  She moaned aloud with pleasure in reply. His precum added to the lubrication and his strokes took on a raunchy wet sound. He held her waist and his thrusts shook the platform beneath her. Kala's breasts swayed, faster and faster, and as her body acclimated once more to his size she began to push back against him.

  Yes, tame my wild cunt!

  She bucked against him. From nearby, she heard the sound of Batterhoof snorting out words. Ironhorn answered tersely. Kala struggled to form coherent words in her mind with Ironhorn's hug
e cock throbbing inside her and ruling every sensation she was experiencing.

  What does he say?

  "He is envious," said Ironhorn. "He says that you move like a steppe cat. Look, my love, his cock has gone hard again watching you."

  Kala glanced over and saw that Batterhoof's pink cock had again emerged from its sheath. The minotaur's slavegirl was slumped, exhausted, at his feet, but the minotaur was stroking his cock with renewed vigor. Kala stare at Batterhoof intensely, her hips working to pop her pink pussy on Ironhorn's massive cunt-wrecker.

  Batterhoof brought his cock over to the shaking platform. He grunted a request for permission to Ironhorn and then lifted the drooling head of his fuckmeat to Kala's eager mouth. The insatiable ache of lust drove her every move. As she fucked back against her master, she used both hands to stroke his fat-cocked comrade. Her tongue darted into the oozing slit of his cock and she tasted the fresh salt of his lingering spunk.

  Master, you are too good to me, she cried as she began to suck.

  Spitted at both ends, the young princess was in the throes of ecstasy. Her tongue and lips worked to satisfy Batterhoof while her ass slapped against Ironhorn's furry thighs. The minotaur above her head gathered her hair up in his huge hand so that he could watch Kala devouring his cock. Ironhorn held tight to her hips, his cockhead pounding against her cervix with every thrust, his copious precum spilling out of her lube-washed channel.

  I'm cumming! Oh, yes, master! I am cumming!

  Her stretched walls fluttered, her perfect pink anus clenched, and a vibrating moan escaped her lips around the spit-soaked cock of Batterhoof. Kala felt as if the intense waves of ecstasy rolling through her body might be enough to break her apart. At the height of her maddening pleasure, Batterhoof's cock erupted into her throat. His thick, hot flood of semen overflowed her mouth, spilled down her face and dripped from her chin in thick gobs of gooey spunk. She swallowed what she could, but it wasn't much of the tidal wave of minotaur milk that stuffed her mouth.