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

by Amanda Clover

  "Princess," said Iron Head, coming over to the cage. "I am sorry we do not have better accommodations. I hate to imagine such a precious beauty sleeping out with all the vermin. Oh, and I see your friend has survived. Did you enjoy being a sheath to the lizeks?"

  "Yes," said Felecia, startling Lorica. "I would like to go back with them."

  "Ha ha! That's a good girl. Not today, my sweet rutter. Today we break camp and set off for the moot. But first, I have gifts for you both."

  Spide brought them over. They were old, rusty iron collars with latching mechanisms that seemed beyond the manufacture of simple nomads like the gray goblins. The collars were thick and looked very heavy. Iron Head fitted them around Lorica and Felecia and snapped them shut with a resounding finality. The weight of the collar was oppressive to Lorica. She had barely worn a choker necklace before, let alone something like this shackle for her throat.

  "Simple control collar," said Iron Head. "It's so boring to use the magic to control slaves, but unimagnitive slavers sometimes will. It's quite powerful. If I wanted you the two of you to kiss, I need only touch this amulet and you will do it."

  "What?" Lorica looked down at the collar. She wondered how such a cheap, ugly contraption contain such powerful magic. Unfortunately, her doubtful look inspired Iron Head to prove the power.

  "Felecia, sit back and spread your legs. Princess, my sweet, you will pleasure Felecia's cunt with your fingers and tongue."

  Lorica had just done her best to clean Felecia and knew what was leaking from her poor handmaiden's abused holes. She had no intention of placing her tongue anywhere near such vile slime.

  "No, I most certainly will not," said the princess.

  Only, she did not speak the words. She tried to, but instead of the words, she only let out a helpless moan as she dropped to her knees and confronted Felecia. Lorica's redheaded companion was already lying on the ground, her legs spread wide and her upper body braced on her back-stretched arms. Lorica found that she could not look away from Felecia's chaffed, slime-oozing quim.

  The princess crawled to Felecia and against all her instincts, she began to caress the slippery velvet of Felecia's flower as she dropped her mouth to that hot furrow. She licked and sampled the sour saltiness of the slime still dripping from deep inside Felecia. The handmaiden moaned at the touch of Lorica's tongue. She lowered a hand to the back of Lorica's head and urged the comely princess more forcefully to lick and suck.

  "Ohhhhh, your tongue is so warm, so lovely," cried Felecia. "Slip it inside me, please! Oh, yes, lick that. Deep inside. Taste me. And press my bud with your fingers."

  Lorica sought to pleasure Felecia, regardless of her own disgust. Her tongue ventured into the young handmaiden's hot channel, tasting the sweetness of her honey and more of the foul brine deposited in Felecia's quim. Lorica's fingers worked feverishly at Felecia's bud. The handmaiden reacted with soft cries and a tightening of her fingers in Lorica's golden hair.

  Goblins gathered around to watch the princess debase herself with her servant. Lorica was humiliated by their leering eyes and the way they rubbed at their loincloths. It did not matter. Nothing mattered more to her than pleasuring Felecia with her fingers and tongue. She sucked and licked and frigged Felecia until the redheaded young woman was arching her back and grinding her dripping slit against Lorica's face.

  "Boss, can't stand!" whined one of the goblins. A chorus of other painfully aroused goblins agreed with the first to speak.

  "Very well," declared Iron Head. "Take your pleasure with the other slaves or relieve yourself onto these two. But no touching them."

  The goblins crowded around in a stroking circle. Their wanking cocks flopped and dripped onto Lorica. They groaned and shouted their encouragement.

  "Put a finger in arse!" cried one.

  "Suck her little tits!" screeched another.

  Lorica ignored their comments. She ignored their cocks. All that mattered to her was Felecia and her cooing pleasure. Felecia's hot, honeyed cunt was convulsing yet again around Lorica's tongue when the shower began. For more than a full minute, the goblins surrounding the two women began to ejaculate. One or two would start spurting cum onto them and by the time their streams diminished another one or two would begin to launch volleys of goo onto Felecia and Lorica.

  None of it deterred Lorica until Iron Head pressed his amulet again, cancelling the control of the necklaces. Both Felecia and Lorica reacted, twisting away and shielding their faces from the onslaught of pungent goblin spunk. The goblins laughed at their squealing efforts to hide from the rain of cum.

  "Enough," said Iron Head. "On your feet. We march as soon as I've had a good meal. If you want to clean yourselves, find a way."

  Lorica scrambled to her feet and helped Felecia up. Iron Head left them and Jassi approached.

  "I'm sorry, my lady," said the plump handmaiden, bowing her head. She lowered her voice and said, "He used me to make me beg for his cock in my arse."

  "As if you didn't enjoy it," said Felecia.

  "Oh?" Jassic cocked an eyebrow and folded her arms over her bare breasts. "I heard you begging for it all night from those lizards they ride around."

  Lorica was trying to wipe the cum from her cleavage when the growing tension between Jassi and Felecia caught her attention.

  "Stop it, the both of you," she scolded. "They are taking us to auction. I think there will be others from other tribes, maybe even other races. That could give us a chance to escape."

  Neither Felecia nor Jassi reacted with the hopefulness Lorica had been expecting.

  "You both still want to escape, don't you?"

  "Of course," said Felecia. "I was just... I was driven a bit mad by... what happened."

  "I don't know where my feelings begin and this damned collar ends," said Jassi. "He's an awful little tyrant. But his cock is so nice. It makes me feel things I've never felt before."

  A glare from Lorica cut off the insult forming on Felecia's lips.

  "Keep your wits," she said to Jassi. To Felecia she said, "and try not to antagonize them."

  "I think I've learned my lesson there," said Felecia.

  "It will be a hard march. We must stay together."

  Jassi helped them find some wash basins and they cleaned most of the goblin cum from them. Jassi also convinced Spide to find some ragged trousers for Felecia to wear. Only Lorica remained in any semblance of her original costume and this was increasingly filthy and soaked with her sweat. She tore more of her skirt away so that her legs were bare past the knees to at least making walking through the marsh a bit easier.

  They set off soon after and were made to carry the rigging of tents on their backs. Even Lorica bent forward and hauled the heavy bundle across her shoulders. It was an agony and it continued through the sweltering day and into the night. Firebugs winked among the mangroves. Other things observed from the darkness, kept and bay by the sheer number of goblins in the group.

  It was as they moved that Lorica finally got a good look at the other slaves. They were two elves, golden-skinned and beautiful despite their filth, and three human women, one of them with an injured arm. The two young humans shared the same dark brown hair and plain faces as the older woman, suggesting a family unit. Lorica did not think long about what might have happened to the men of the family.

  The group approached the lights of the moot well into the night. A large, crude structure of ancient, mossy logs represented the moot. This was lit by torches and surrounded by tents, yurts, dugouts and temporary shelters, along with wagons and more elaborate carriages.

  Lorica recognized the symbols of goblins and orcs, as well as Kornasi horsemen, and other banners. Strange creatures lurked in the shadows of this meeting place. Terrible things come to bid on human flesh.

  "Keep moving," said Spide, giving Lorica a shove. "If you dawdle, something might show an unhealthy interest. Unhealthy for you at least."

  They entered the seller's entrance of the moot, into a sweaty, dark
hold filled with cages and moaning slaves. The other slavers were mostly humans dealing in other humans. The goblins gave them a wide berth and moved to the back of the auction line. The cages were erected and Lorica, Felecia and Jassi were once again shoved inside.

  The three women collapsed almost immediately, utterly exhausted and slept in a sweaty pile. Lorica awoke only once as the auction began somewhere above them. Feet stamped and the crowd cheered as lives were bought and sold. She returned to a shapeless nightmare in which she was not free and would never be free.

  A bucket of cold water woke them up.

  "On feet, lovelies," said Spide. "Time to become beautiful."

  The goblin called it "the painter's hall." He led them through a heavy curtain and into a gaudy perfumery of fat old women and younger attendants wearing their own slave collars.

  "You bring us the most pitiful specimens," croaked a particularly bloated old toad of a woman. "I'm not even sure we can rescue this one."

  "Of course we can," said a stick-thin old woman in a beaded headdress. "As long as they have the right percentage."

  "Two percent," said Spide.

  The women scoffed. One began to cackle in the back of the smoky room.

  "Fifteen," said the bloated matriarch, scratching at a fat, black mole on her face.

  "Three percent," said Spide. "No higher."

  "Ten, or I'll toss you through the curtain and send them to the pigs."

  "Seven, my boss will take finger I go higher."

  "Nine," said the old woman.

  Spide spit in his claw and held it out to the woman. She looked at his hand and laughed. She offered up the crook of a cane for him to shake instead.

  "What does Iron Head want?" asked the skinny woman.

  "Rutter," said Spide, pointing to Felecia. "Harem or maybe feeder for the dark hair."

  "What about this lovely?" asked the fat old woman, playing with Lorica's golden locks.

  "Princess," said Spide.

  "Really? She is pretty. Perhaps a consort or even a bride. But not a--"

  "You not understand." Spide growled. "Is princess. Virgin princess. Sell as princess. Not question."

  "A genuine princess?" The women surrounded Lorica immediately, touching her and prodding at her with their fingers. "What is your name, deary?"

  "I am Princess Lorica Yeownsberg of Tullia. My father will pay a fortune for my release."

  The women laughed at Lorica as if she had jested.

  "Ya, she sounds like a princess alright!" The fat woman leaned very close to Lorica's face. "Deary, we'll make you properly gorgeous. Maybe you'll even be bought by a prince."

  "Won't guess what kind of prince though," said the skinny woman.

  The fat woman clapped her hands and the collared attendants appeared from the darkness. Each of these servants had a very similar body type - slender, with boyish hips and pert breasts - and were completely nude save for belts which were hung with sewing and makeup implements ranging from scissors and brushes to pots of pigment. Their lower hairs were shorn and the hair on their head was worn in the fashion of young men, oiled and parted at one side. Though apparently human, their eyes were strangely intense and impersonal, almost like insects.

  The servants began to caress and undress Lorica and her companions. Their touch was gentle. Their hands warm and soft. Felecia and Jassi stood nude in moments. Lorica's sweat-soaked gown and bodice took much longer to strip from her body. The nude attendants lifted and massage Lorica's ample breasts and traced their fingers around her puffy pink areolas until her nipples began to stiffen. They whispered nothings - literally wordless sounds - into her ears and her hair began to stand on end.

  There were so many of these attendants, stroking and massaging, that Lorica hardly knew when the kissing began. Their lips brushed her arms, her breasts, her nipples. She moaned in surprise and one kissed her on the lips. She opened her mouth to say something and tasted a clean, minty flavor on the woman's tongue. Their kisses became licks and Lorica saw her companions were receiving a similar treatment. The attendants continually walked in circles around Lorica and her handmaidens, bending and crawling and using tongues to tease and lap and awaken and clean.

  "Oh, my," moaned Lorica as a tongue brushed her clitoris. "Isn't there some other way?"

  "You prefer an orc scrubbing you with a bristle brush like a warg?" asked the old, fat woman as she observed the ritual of tongue-bathing.

  "It's just that... oh my!" Lorica forgot whatever she was going to say as one of the attendants knelt before her and began vigorously lapping at the princess's clit. She gasped again a moment later as a tongue began to tease and taste and rim Lorica's clenched back passage. She cried, "This is madness."

  "Please, my l-lady," cried Jassi. "Just let me enjoy t-this!"

  The princess and her two handmaidens were pulled down into a sea of cushions by the attendants. The almost identical girls massaged, stroked, and licked every inch of Lorica's body. As their hot tongues left, their hands returned covered in warming, relaxing oil. Their fingers tests her maidenhead and probed between her buttocks. They slicked her curves until her body glistened and all the imperfections seemed to melt away from her flesh.

  "Ohhhh gods," cried Jassi. Lorica looked over and saw the plump woman arching her back, her oiled breasts flopping as one of the attendants fucked her fingers in and out of Jassi's thatched mound. Felecia and Jassi both looked beautiful. Their glistening bodies had become clean and perfect.

  Then the attendants began to apply tingling foam to Lorica and her companions. The princess jolted with fear when she saw several of the attendants held silver daggers. She could not move. The other attendants held her fast among the cushions, cooing and massaging her shoulders, arms and breasts. The knife-wielding girls moved with quick, sure hands and began to shave away all of the hair below Lorica's neck. Their knives scraped gently beneath her arms and deftly trimmed the golden thatch atop her mound.

  "Fear not," said the skinny old woman, observing the shaving, "You will be as bare as a child and the bidders will know your delicacy. A virgin princess like you will be exquisite."

  Jassi and Felecia were taken away to separate areas for their fittings. The attendants brought Lorica to a small room with mirrors and an old elf man. He circled around her, running his hands over her body, stroking between her legs and over her buttocks.

  "Yes," he said. "A bit wide in the bottom, but otherwise fit and trim. Some races actually prefer their slaves to have large bottoms. No accounting for taste I suppose. I have just the thing for you. Stockings for your long legs..."

  White stockings appeared like conjured snakes and swallowed up Lorica's legs to her thighs. The tight silk was held by a garter that wrapped around the princess's hips.

  "Oh my!" Lorica looked down at her legs.

  "Something for your modesty," said the elf and a scandalously small panty stitched itself together, surrounding her waist, scarcely covering her bare mound, and threading between her buttocks to leave them fully exposed. "And some lovely red to squeeze and wrap you."

  Pieces of sheer red fabric drifted from every direction and began to adhere to Lorica's shoulders, tummy, back and breasts. The pieces of fabric moved, patterns of lace aligned, tightened, squeezing and lifting her breasts to present a scrumptious panel of cleavage in the midst of the red lace bodice and ruffled red skirt. The skirt hardly covered her mound and buttocks. The sheer fabric left Lorica's straining nipples and areolas fully visible.

  The fat and skinny old woman appeared from the darkness and plucked at her clothing.

  "Well done, Percival," said the skinny woman.

  "I do what I must," said the elf, bowing and retreating into the darkness.

  "Our turn!" cackled the fat old woman.

  Their magic curled Lorica's golden hair into plump ringlets that spilled over her shoulders in a lustrous cascade. Their brushes and pencils decorated her face like a courtesan, with dark-rimmed eyes, blushing cheeks, and red lips.


  It seemed a bit much to Lorica, but the fat woman explained, "You will be seen from a stage for most of the bidders. They will only get to look at you close when they enter the final bidding."

  When it was done, the fat old thing trundled out with a mirror to show Lorica. The princess almost burst into tears at what she saw. Beautiful, yes, but done up and swaddled like a whore and with that awful iron collar around her neck it ruined any fantasy.

  "You'll mess the grease!" snapped the skinny woman. "Stop crying. Suck in your tummy and thrust out those lovely tits. There. Stand up straight. You are a princess."

  Lorica had expected she would rejoin her friends, but instead she was taken to a room with only Spide and Iron Head. The two goblins looked her over, Iron Head pausing to squeeze her buttocks and then her breasts.

  "Yes, yes," he growled. "It makes me want to keep her for myself."

  "You could," suggested Spide.

  The goblin boss's red eyes gleamed with possibility.

  "I could father an heir in this flat belly." He ran his rough hand over Lorica's stomach and the princess shuddered. "Would you like that? Would you nurse my sons on those lovely teets?"

  "P-please," stammered Lorica. "I want... I want to go out there..."

  "She doesn't like boss," said Spide.

  "Ah, well, I suppose I'll part ways with her." He grabbed Lorica suddenly in his arms and sat down with her in his lap. "But come and have a seat for good luck while we enjoy the show. You're one of the last that'll be sold. We're asking a fortune for you."

  She felt his hardness beneath her bottom and one of his clawed hands roughly stroked her breast. Despite his strength, Lorica was bigger than the goblin boss, which made it quite awkward for him to lean part her and watch the stage.

  Bullseye lights painted a stage in the darkened, smoky moot. Several men and women were being led off in chains as Lorica peered out from the seller's box. Their seats were near the back, but very high, so the princess had a good vantage of the procession of slaves being shoved onto the stage.