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

by Amanda Clover

  "Do not be afraid," he said to her. "Whatever happens, I will allow no harm to come to you."

  She looked up at him and tears quivered in her eyes. He stroked his thumb against her delicate chin and gazed back.

  "You are the most beautiful creature in the entire wood," he murmured and his lips pressed to hers. His kiss was gentle and slow. He held it, giving her time to become comfortable with his strength before his lips parted hers and his tongue tasted her mouth. She moaned into his kiss and pressed her eager body against him.

  "You're everything I want. I am ready for this." She looked into his eyes and she knew that her words were true. Her body was ready for him, however he decided to claim her.

  He took her hands and brought her to the exact center of the crowd. They were beginning to grow excited. Couples were stroking one another, fondling and caressing as they watched Imogen get down on her knees before Astus.

  She reached out for his cock. He firmly pressed her hands away. He gathered them up and held her by her wrists, pushing her back onto the ground and pinning her hands over her head. He was so strong that he only needed one hand to hold her fast to the ground. Not that Imogen was trying to escape. She arched her supple body beneath him, her breasts heaving, her thighs parting as she looked up at him with desire.

  He traced his fingers over her full lips, down her chin, teasing against her breasts, down her belly, and teasing over her thighs. He did not touch her mound. Not yet. Her lips fell open in a gasp. He met them with a light kiss, moving quickly away, following the path his fingers took as he descended to her breasts. His warm kiss traveled the curve of her breasts. His lips brushed her nipples, his breath hot and tickling against them.

  "So lovely," he whispered and lashed a nipple with his tongue.

  She cried out, thrust her breast against him, but finding he was already gone, leaving her exquisitely hard nipple sticking up into the air, glistening with his spit. He moved to the other breast, molding it with his hand until it began to redden from the trapped blood, her nipple growing hard and fat. He sucked it and bathed her nipple with his spit. He looked into her eyes as his tongue secretly curled and flicked around her nipple.

  "You're a beast," she cried.

  His lips popped free of her breast and he smiled up at her. "Not yet."

  He kissed his way down her belly, teasing her thighs, parting them and falling upon her slick groove. The crowd murmured as he began to suck and lick. She cried out and saw that those watching were beginning to fondle and suck and lick each other to match the fervor of Astus. All around her, women bobbed their mouths on straining cocks and men plunged fingers and tongues into gasping women. The groaning and gasping crowd only enhanced her own arousal.

  Before she could cum, Astus lifted his head from between her thighs. He climbed atop her, his cock so hard that it needed no guidance from his hand. She looked up into his gold-flecked eyes as he pressed against her slippery folds.

  "Fuck me," she moaned.

  "Yes," he replied and smothered her lips with a forceful kiss.

  His cock drove into her in a single stroke, filling her channel with his hot steel and driving in until her cervix bent against him and every inch was sheathed in her tight tunnel. She pulled him against her, kissing him back hungrily as he began to move and thrust atop her. She forgot the crowd. She forgot her family. She forgot everything except Astus and the mighty spear of his manhood, plunging in and out, caressing her from within with every throbbing ridge.

  Astus kissed her shoulder and neck as he moved steadily atop her. His lips played against her cheek. He nibbled at her elongated ears. His cock continued to slowly gain speed as he thrust into her aching cunt.

  "My father had you first," he whispered. "I can smell him on you. But it does not matter. My seed will wash away his and I will teach you what it means to be my bitch."

  "Yesss," she hissed.

  "I will breed your elf womb. I will fill you with my pups."

  She thought he meant to do it straight away, his cock was so big and hard inside her, but he abruptly pulled out. She looked at him curiously. He rolled her onto his hands and knees. He grabbed her hips roughly and pulled her ass higher, forcing her face down into the dirt. The sudden roughness shocked her.

  "You will know what it is like to be taken as a beast," he shouted. "Now see us as we are, Imogen. See us all as we are."

  Suddenly, the inhabitants of the crude settlement began to transform. First, they became the upright hybrid forms she had seen before. Then they became true animals. Some were mated, beast to beast, but some continued their beastly rutting with human mates.

  "Yes," growled Astus. "We are beasts within our blood. Now you will truly know what is like to be the bitch of a wolf."

  She cried out as he transformed behind her. There was no stopping what happened next. No denying that she craved it as her body succumbed to the forbidden lust. She came again and again as the wolf-form Astus mounted her and claimed her womb with his bestial seed.

  Princess Imogen Goldenheart, fairest lady of the elves, gave in to her desires.

  Epilogue

  As the search party unknowingly approached their destination, the forest became their enemy. Branches smashed the swords from the hands of the women of the royal guard. The gnome pathfinders were seized by the prehensile vines of strangler plants. Crossbows fired off ineffectually and tiny daggers sawed at the vines.

  Before the trees could claim the lives of any in the search party, a glowing green figure appeared in their midst. She was beautiful, human, with an invitingly round body and braids that hung over her shoulders and atop her plump breasts.

  "Who dares intrude in my domain?"

  "We-we mean no offense, druid," cried Karissa, wrestling to take her sword back from one of the trees. "We are searching for a lost woman from the Climbs. Once she is found, we will be on our way."

  A second glowing-green figure materialized beside the first. Lord Tiermont and Karissa both recognized her immediately. She was a bit plump in her belly, a bit fuller in her breasts, but otherwise largely unchanged.

  "What if she does not wish to be found?" asked Imogen.

  "Princess!" cried the guard commander.

  "Hello, Karissa," said Imogen. "I'm afraid you've come all this way for nothing."

  "We will not leave empty handed," cried Karissa, fighting valiantly against the tree's prehensile limbs.

  "You won't leave empty at all, I promise," said Imogen.

  The dryads emerged from the trees with a giggle of laughter. They resembled comely women with slender bodies and black eyes, patches of bark decorated them but did not diminish their haunting beauty. They descended upon Karissa and the women of the royal guard and began to undress them. Their curved lips kissed and their long fingers caressed, silencing the cries of the guardswomen.

  Imogen watched the ambush with delight. She was only beginning to learn the magic of the woods, but already found it easy to call upon spirits such as dryads and to command the trees. She waved her arms and one huge oak seized Karissa into the air, stripping off the last of her armor and leaving her at the mercy of two giggling dryads. Imogen waved her fingers and the dryads winked in reply, sprouting smooth, curved cocks from above their mounds and giving Karissa something more to contend with.

  "Princess," cried Lord Tiermont. "You must stop this."

  Imogen looked at the wee gnome. He held his sword pointed at her, as if there were any chance he would dare wield it against her. The green glow dissipated from around her body. Tiermont could not look away from her or escape her as she sauntered up to him.

  He was only half her height and his eyes were naturally drawn to her gold-thatched quim. She stood with her feet apart and played her fingers over her mound.

  "Do you want it, little man?"

  He stumbled backwards, over a convenient root, tumbling onto his bottom on the ground. Imogen fell to her knees by his feet. He reached for his dropped sword and a branched pulled it
away.

  "K-king Parnassmuss has promised me a fortune if I bring you back. He...he said I could have an entire tunnel in the quartz veins."

  Imogen crawled over him. Her fingers teasing his legs. Her breasts dangling nearly in his face.

  "Oh, an entire tunnel?" Imogen smiled, playing her fingers up the legs of his leather trousers. She began to unfasten the buttons. "All I have to offer to convince you to leave me be...is pleasure."

  She took his surprisingly large cock out and wrapped her hand around its shaft. The wee tip was a purpling mushroom sticking up from her soft fist.

  "What do you say, Tiermont? Will you leave me be?"

  "I...I accept your offer."

  "Mmmm," she said, leaning forward, "I thought you might."

  The gnome's eyes widened as the wild princess engulfed his cock in her hot mouth. They say an elf woman is among the most eager lovers when she finds the mood. Tiermont had never experienced anything like her. She sucked him dry, eagerly, before coaxing him back to life and straddling him. She towered over him. She smothered his face with her breasts. She used every imaginable technique to make him cum and cum until his orgasms were painful.

  All the while, the dryads and amorous trees, guided by Lillia, made easy work of Karissa and the royal guards. Hot sap dripped from every guardswoman's holes and the women stretched in exhausted piles on the forest floor.

  "Do not come looking for me again," advised Imogen. "I am a druid now and I am with my people. If another party finds us, they will not find lust, they will find destruction."

  "Please," moaned Karissa, her lips smeared with dryad's sap. "Come home to us."

  "I am sorry, old friend." Imogen stroked Karissa's face and leaned down to give her a chaste kiss. "I am home now.

  Without another word, Imogen disappeared into the woods. Lord Tiermont sat up, his cock chafed and his body already beginning to ache. He forced himself to his feet and hobbled over to Karissa. He kicked away the branches entangling her legs and gave her a hand up.

  "She has made her choice, guardswoman. The princess belongs to the woods."

  Book 10 - Chaos Demons

  Many a princess throughout the lands was pampered, but none quite so pampered as Olivia Veritus, daughter of King Veritus, who was more widely known as the King of Spice. King Veritus had several beautiful daughters and none were more fair than Olivia. She was his eldest and he bowed to her wishes in a way that even visitors could tell had made her into something of a monster. No, she was not the sort to behead her servants or torture her horse, she was the sort who lounged in decadence and demanded nothing but the best.

  Olivia lived within the walled city named Veritus, after its ruling family, which sat upon the eastern edge of the great desert of Shaddobar. No other cities prospered for many miles, yet somehow rain found Veritus every season and transformed the pitiless desert into a small but verdant oasis. Even the merchants of Shaddobar, known to be spice traders, came to Veritus for the richest spices. Though some complained that while they stayed within the city's walls they were haunted by terrible dreams.

  It was the day before the summer solstice, when the gods would be appeased to sweeten the grapes on the vines and fatten the olives, to make each lick of spice in the groves that much more exotic. The city was occupied with preparations, with games and songs, and visiting entertainers practicing their trade. A marketplace of tents occupied the central square and traders had come from far away to secure harvest agreements with the king and his peasant farmers.

  Olivia watched these preparations from the walled garden atop the grand keep. A flautist was playing the Song of Summer and one of the dusky-skinned serving girls was gently washing Olivia's feet with a cloth. The princess dropped a grape into her mouth and it burst with sweetness against her tongue.

  She was resplendent in a summer's gown of white with gold trim, her long legs partly bare to be washed and her toes painted by the servant. The thin fabric clung to her ample hips and her plump breasts and spilled from her neck in such a way as to reveal as much of her sun-gold skin as possible without becoming indecent.

  Of all the daughters of King Veritus, Olivia alone was permitted to wear a delicate crown in her curly black hair. She was allowed to luxuriate while her sisters trained in etiquette and fencing and horseback riding. She was allowed to curse and shout at servants, kiss her suitors and do all of the things her sisters were forbidden to ever do. It was only by the watchful eye of her mother that she had even remained a virgin.

  She opened her honey-colored eyes and looked down at her glistening foot. She lifted and waggled the other, signaling the servant to begin washing it. The full curve of her lips bent into a smile that shifted the dark beauty mark on her face.

  The sun felt particularly good on her that afternoon, the grapes especially sweet, and she thought after having her toes painted. When that was done, she might go to her bed and have this pretty girl from Shaddobar kiss her between her thighs. Another pleasure absolutely forbidden to her sisters, but allowed to Olivia. Though she knew her mother disapproved most of all of that.

  "My daughter," came a deep voice from behind her.

  "Father?" asked Olivia.

  She lifted her head and was glad to see her handsome father with his dark beard standing behind her. He wore his crown and a more formal robe than he usually favored. She kicked aside the servant washing her feet and leaped up to hug her father. He embraced her in both his arms, squeezing her tight against his barrel chest.

  "I thought you were meeting with merchants all day."

  "There is something I must show you today, my dearest daughter." He took her hands. "Come with me. Down to the cellar."

  She raised a dark eyebrow.

  "The cellar?"

  King Veritus entered the castle through the lower doors usually reserved for servants. The maids and cooks looked on with astonishment and scurried to bow to him as he passed them. Olivia waved with annoyance. The smell of cooking food and the heat made her feel a bit ill.

  The king brought her to the door into the cellar and they descended into the darkness. He ignited a lantern and held it out ahead of them so they could see the way through the casks of family wine and barrels of imported beer. It was much larger than she recalled and more unpleasant with every step.

  "It's cold and dusty down here," said Olivia. She yelped as a cobweb brushed her arm. "I don't like it, daddy."

  "Here we are," he said at last.

  He held up the lantern and revealed a dusty patch of masonry that seemed to Olivia no different than any other spot in the cellar. The king brushed his hand through the dust and revealed a faint mark, as if in chalk, a symbol of a circle with crossed lines within it. She was about to ask him what the symbol meant when the king pressed his fingers into a brick and the whole wall began to rumble and swing inward.

  They entered a silent tunnel carved through the bedrock stone itself. The walls were smooth, almost polished, and there were no signs of cobwebs in this strange tunnel. The lantern held by the king reflected in the seams of crystal.

  "What...what is this place?" asked Olivia.

  "Have you ever wondered how it is that my kingdom has such fertile lands? How we have never known a drought that killed our harvest while all the surrounding lands are as parched as bones?"

  "The gods favor us," said Olivia.

  "No. The gods, as ever, are indifferent."

  His blasphemous words shocked Olivia. She stopped walking and stared at her father, a man she had always known to be pious, particularly at the time of the solstice. King Veritus doubled back to her and, gently but insistently, took her hand and continued to lead her deeper.

  "Our family's prosperity does not belong to the gods. Nor does it belong to our family's labor. The source of our prosperity lies, as ever, beneath out house."

  They entered a chamber that plunged away into a deep shaft of darkness. Olivia could sense the enormity of that pit and she was reluctant to approach its edge. Kin
g Veritus dragged her closer.

  "I was a young man when Castigoroth came to me," said King Veritus. "Hardly more than a boy. Perhaps, even then, he sensed the force of my desires for wealth and power. Perhaps he saw only a willing conspirator. He found one."

  King Veritus drew open the front of his robe, down his chest, and showed his daughter the amulet he wore there. An intricate lattice of gold formed a leering, demoniac face with jewels for eyes that she recognized as the strange crystal from the seams in the tunnel.

  "It is Castigoroth's magic that has allowed me to build this kingdom and prosper."

  "No," said Olivia, trying to take a step away from the evil symbol.

  King Veritus yanked her closer to the edge of the pit.

  "But he demands a price. On the eve of the summer solstice, on her eighteenth year, I am to offer him my firstborn daughter." His eyes glittered with cruelty. "Have you not always wondered why I entertained your whims and not those of your sisters?"

  "Daddy! Please, daddy! You can't! I'll be killed!"

  He looked down into the black pit and agreed, "Yes, perhaps you will. But I will remain faithful to my bargain all the same."

  "Daddy, no-"

  He was too strong for her to fight him for more than a moment. Overwhelmed by fear and a sense of total betrayal, Olivia was picked up by the king and hurled as easily as a stone over the edge. She looked up at him as she plummeted into the blackness. But she did not fall to her death. King Veritus, watching his eldest daughter plunge into the pit, saw a flash of light consume her.

  Olivia saw the light as well, a burst of flames that warmed her body, and then she dropped onto a yielding floor of flesh. Still reeling from her betrayal, she lifted her head and tried to make sense of her surroundings. The floor was slick and warm beneath her, covered in a thin miasmic fog that smelled of unwashed sex. Here and there, carbuncles as big as stable piles of manure pulsed with life and gusted out yellow-white liquid and more of the foul steam. Overhead, there was no pit, only a reddish sky seemingly lit by ghastly stars held within roiling clouds of pink and scarlet and violet.