The smoothness of her inner cheek gave way to a wrinkled softness. It was warmer and firmer than the surrounding flesh and yet it yielded delicately to the lightest pressure of Margery's tongue. It tensed beneath the first lick.
"Ooooh," moaned Jivayn. "Do not be shy, princess. Lick me. Lick my ass. Worship it as you have worshipped my pussy."
Margery began to lap at the warm pucker of Jivayn's ass. It had none of the sweetness of the elf's pussy, but as it became coated in saliva it felt something like it beneath her tongue. Tighter and less yielding. She pressed her tongue against the pucker and it slowly opened. She licked around the rim in slow circles that elicited further moans of pleasure from Jivayn. The elf began to rub at her clit and push her ass back into Margery's face.
The princess's reservations were gone. She was enthralled by the submissive pleasure of licking Mistress Jivayn's ass. The act, once unthinkable, had crossed over into a taboo that stimulated her lust. She moaned as she licked and thrust her tongue deep into the elf's hot rear passage. Jivayn rolled her hips and strummed her clit faster and faster. She thrust herself back against Margery's face.
"Fuck my ass with your tongue," hissed the elf. "That's it. Ohhhhh... good girl... make me... make me cum!"
"Nnnnnnnn!" moaned Margery. She desperately tongue-fucked Jivayn's asshole. She seized the elf's firm bottom with both hands and buried her face against her hot crack. Her tongue burrowed deep into that forbidden hole and drove the elf over the edge.
The elf made a wordless whine of ecstasy and the roll of her hips took on a jerking motion. Margery felt Jivayn's orgasm in the hot clench of the elf's ass around her thrusting tongue. Juices spilled from Jivayn's pussy and glistened on the elf's inner thighs. Her hips slowed. She slumped forward and Margery's tongue slipped from the elf's well-licked asshole.
"Oh, my, princess," laughed Jivayn as she rolled onto her back. "You certainly overcame your inhibitions rather quickly."
Margery climbed onto the bed beside Jivayn. The elf gave her a curious look and Margery put her arms around the elf and kissed her on the lips. Jivayn shoved her away with hidden strength and slapped her across the face.
"You do not embrace me! You do not kiss me! Not unless I command it."
The slap stung Margery enough to bring tears to her eyes. She did not back down. She returned Jivayn's black-eyed stare.
"You make me desire you and you shove me away! I am not some slave, I am not--"
Jivayn slapped her again.
"You are a surface pig!" she snarled.
"I am Princess Margery Lecuyer. No matter what you inflict upon me, I will always bear the blood--"
Jivayn's hand around Margery's throat choked off the princess's words. Margery could not even breathe as the elf's grip tightened.
"Your blood is precisely what I want," hissed Jivayn. "The time is almost here. The deep is almost ready for the ritual. The virgin blood of a princess will bathe my body and I will give myself to Ionethus as the prophecy foretold. I will give birth to the daughter that will lead my people back to the surface."
Margery always suspected that some horrible fate awaited her. It only confirmed her greatest fears to know that her blood would be taken for some insane ritual of the deep elves. But Jivayn released Margery and as she did the elf turned and hid her face. Margery sputtered to breathe. She recovered slowly and saw gentle sobs wracking Jivayn.
The princess took a deep breath to steady herself and crawled behind Jivayn. She put her hand on the elf's shoulder.
"What is wrong, Mistress Jivayn?"
"You are," whispered the elf. "Your damned eyes, your lips, even your breasts. Your desire to do more than please. Your desire to..."
"You said Ionethus was a goddess of love and hate. There are two aspects to her and the deep elves have chosen only one."
"Do not speak the goddess's name," said Jivayn.
"I am sorry, mistress." Margery was not sorry.
She reached out and stroked Jivayn's shoulder. She caressed a lock of silky black hair and tucked it behind Jivayn's ear. The elf turned just enough to look at her. Margery leaned past Jivayn's slender shoulder, just close enough to brush her full lips against the elf's.
"You are insolent," whispered Jivayn.
"You are cruel," said Margery and she could not hide her smile.
The elf lunged at her, but with her lips instead of her fist. The kiss was just as violent as a slap. Jivayn's tongue thrust into Margery's mouth and in an instant the princess yielded to the hot dominance the elf. She rolled onto her back as the elf crawled atop her. Jivayn wrapped one hand in Margery's hair. The other slid between their bodies and found Margaret's aching slit.
"You need your hair removed," hissed Jivayn between kisses. "I want to see your cunt the next time we meet. I will have the slaves prepare a cream so that your hair never grows again."
"Why?" gasped Margery, unable to control her lust. She thrust her hips and pushed her slippery sex against Jivayn's fingers. The elf stroked deftly against Margery's clit.
"I want to see you," said the elf. "I want to see all of you."
Jivayn silenced further questions with her kiss. For a tortured eternity, their tongues intertwined, their lips pressed together, and Margery scissored her shapely thighs around Jivayn's stroking hand. The priestess did not penetrate her with fingers, instead she focused the strokes on the princess's outer folds and on the throbbing bud of her clit. Margery worked her hips as the pleasure grew to a crescendo. She closed her eyes and let go with a kiss-smothered scream into Jivayn as the bright heat of her orgasm blossomed with her.
Jivayn held her for a long time after. The elf rested her head on Margery's soft breast and absently stroked the deep red cascade of Margery's unruly hair. Jivayn's tongue flicked out and teased the fat, pink tip of the princess's left nipple.
"You would give a river of milk to a child," chuckled the elf.
"Would you like that?" Margery rested her hand between Jivayn's shoulders.
The question seemed to sadden the elf. She sat up and turned away again.
"What is it?" Margery sat up. "What did I say?"
"Return to your cell," said Jivayn. "Speak to no one. Tomorrow you will be punished."
"Punished? For what I just said?"
"Tomorrow," growled the elf, "you will be punished. My acolytes will watch your pain."
"Please, Mistress Jivayn!" Margery could not understand how their tender moment had turned so suddenly to anger. Her fear of the elf returned in an instant and she stood from the bed. "I am sorry. Whatever I have done to anger you, I--"
"You tricked me into forgetting what I am for a moment." Jivayn stood from the bed, a curved dagger in her hand. "I am an elf of the deep, a daughter and high priestess of Ionethus, and you seduced me with your words and your body. It will not happen again."
Jivayn took a step towards Margery, her dagger raised. The princess fled from the room. She ran through the halls until she was seized by an acolyte and dragged back to her cell. The door was bolted behind her. The princess curled into a ball and wept.
Four
Consort of the Priestess
Margery's wrists were tightly bound behind her back, her shoulders wrenched painfully, and her elbows linked by a cord of silk. Silvery ropes of the silk circled her body and bound her breasts to exaggerate them like a corset that had burst open. Ropes wrapped her waist, framed her shorn pussy and threaded between her plump buttocks. She was gagged with a rubbery sphere that filled her mouth and made it almost impossible for her to swallow. Drool spilled down her chin.
Her humiliation was total and a golden circle of lantern light illuminated her naked, contorted body. The acolytes watched from the darkness, their presence occasionally betrayed by the flash of a silver mask. It was just as Mistress Jivayn had promised. The high priestess watched from her throne, her face once again hidden inside her mask and headdress. She had not moved from her seat since Margery had been brought into the room.
The deep elf male was enormously muscular. She had never imagined a male elf would look so masculine and yet this one reminded her of Yokur, the blacksmith in the castle where she grew up. His chest bulged behind a dark apron of leather and his biceps were enormous. A murmur of excitement went through the audience of masked acolytes as the male elf approached with a pair of silver tongs in one hand and a long silver needle in the other.
"Mmmmmmmmmm!" Margery cried into her gag. Her eyes were wide with fear. Her heart pounded in her chest and her body jiggled as she fought to escape from the ropes that bound her. The acolytes had fed the ropes through rings set into the stone of the floor, which limited her movement to pitiful squirming.
Margery was certain that Jivayn was about to have this man harvest her virgin blood. This was the sacrifice the priestess needed for her sick ritual and Margery expected she would not survive the process. Her breath hissed around the gag in her mouth and she tried desperately to twist away from the male elf.
"Do not fight it," he said, his voice deep and even. "It will only hurt more."
He lashed out with the tongs and caught her left nipple in their grasp. She squealed in pain as he pinched her nipple and lifted her breast with a stretching tug. He struck with the needle just as suddenly. The pain flared and seemed to drive deep into her breast. The silver pierced her sensitive nipple and he drove the needle completely through her flesh with a practiced stroke. He pulled the blood-smeared silver out the other side of her and quickly slotted it into a pouch on his apron. He plucked out a silver barbell and fed it through the bloody hole in her throbbing nipple.
Warm blood trickled down her breast and onto Margery's trembling belly. The male elf released the her nipple from his tongs and quickly gripped the other pink protrusion. He pierced her again with the silver and again fed a barbell into the throbbing, searing hole he made.
"Now the tongue," said Jivayn, her voice cold with anger.
"Yes, high priestess," said the male with a deferential nod of his head.
He hooked a grimy finger into Margery's mouth and pulled out her gag. She began to sob and beg for him to stop.
"Please, please, don't do this," she moaned. "It hurts. I can't stand it!"
The pain was exquisite in her nipples and more than a little arousing, but the idea that he might pierce her tongue was too much. She turned her head away, but he held her mouth open and took hold of her tongue with the tongs. The acolytes cackled with laughter at Margery's suffering.
Margery was hysterical. Her tongue was pulled painfully by the tongs and she stared at the pink flesh, glistening with her saliva, as the silver needled descended. The pain was even worse than the nipples. It felt as if her tongue was being pulled out of her mouth and the blood gushed copiously into her mouth and down her chin. The silver needle pulled completely through and a moment later a barbell was plugging the bloody hole.
She was almost in shock as the man wound a crank that suspended her from the ropes that bound her body. He turned the crank and spread her legs apart.
"It is time for your final punishment," said Jivayn.
"OOoo caann doo hhiiss ooo meee," wailed the princess with her nearly-useless tongue.
The tongs found the most sensitive spot on Margery's body and pinched hard enough to make her vision dim. Spread-eagled and hanging from the web of ropes, there was nothing she could do to protect herself. The needle seemed to pierce her entire body as it plunged through her clitoris. She was glad for that darkness that closed in around her.
When Margery awoke, she had been returned to her bed. The wounds of the needles had healed through some magic of the elves and the barbells were firmly embedded in her flesh. Her nipples were permanently erect, her clit engorged and throbbing with desire and her tongue worked, though the barbell clicked against her teeth when she spoke. There was a bowl of gruel beside her bed and a large cup of mineral-rich water. She drank and ate and felt better.
Worse than the mutilation was the betrayal. She did not understand how her night of genuine feeling with Jivayn had resulted in this cruel attack on her body. She reached beneath the mattress and felt the reassuring hardness of the knife.
"Gisella." The word felt strange on her pierced tongue. She wished the woman was there to give her strength. She pictured the magic-charred darkness of her eye sockets. Whoever would inflict such violence on Gisella were monsters. Margery decided that she would not sit and wait for the acolytes to come and collect her again or to wait and hope that Jivayn had a change of heart.
It was time to act.
She was surprised to find that the door to her cell was not locked. She held the knife concealed in her hand and slipped out into the hall. A few steps from her door, she had to stop. Each step sent small motions through her clitoris, which shifted the barbell, which beat against her clit like the very tip of Naomi's tongue. She forced down her pleasure and continued on her way. By the time she reached the hallway where the priestess slept she had cum six times. Her body was flushed and dewy with sweat from the repeated, excruciating explosions of pleasure, endured by biting her lip to stifle her screams of ecstasy.
Margery was prepared to deal with an acolyte posted to guard Jivayn's door. She turned down the hallway and was relieved to find it completely empty. She padded silently to the door and listened. She could make out the heavy breathing of a sleeping elf. The door was locked, but the mechanism was not difficult. Not for a girl who had grown up picking the lock of her brother's treasure box and the lock on the door to the cellar.
The door opened on silent hinges and she crept into the room. With each step, Margery expected some alarm. Some final defense that would entrap her. But of course there was nothing. The elves believed the humans in their midst to be worthless, harmless slaves. Jivayn believed herself protected by her cruelty, not the lock on her door.
The only light in the room came from the last embers of the fire in the hearth. Jivayn was face down and completely nude. Margery drew the blade and approached. Only the faintest golden edge of firelight touched and illuminated the edge of her supple body. Still, Margery expected some trickery as climbed onto the bed as gently as possible.
It was definitely Jivayn. Her face was turned towards the princess. The elf's lips were slightly parted and her eyes were most definitely closed.
Margery took a deep breath, tested her grip on the knife, and she made her move. The shapely princess launched her body across the bed and straddled the lower back of the sleeping elf. Jivayn tried to sit up in surprise and Margery caught her with a forearm across the elf's forehead. With her other hand, she put the blade against Jivayn's throat.
"So it's you, Princess Margery," said Jivayn, her words darkened with resignation. "I suppose I am glad it is not one of the acolytes. Go on then, princess. You have learned our ways. Now put them to use."
Margery had already made up her mind about what she was going to do, but she let Jivayn feel the cold pressure of the blade for a few seconds more.
"You took almost everything from me, Jivayn. You tried to take my humanity. By all rights I should kill you." Margery drove the blade of the knife into the cushion of the bedding and buried it until only part of the handle stuck out. "You are wrong, Jivayn. About everything. I came to you tonight to prove that."
Margery dismounted from the slender elf and sat beside her on the bed. Jivayn pushed herself onto her hands and knees and then into a more upright, kneeling position. Something flashed in the dark pools of her eyes and she threw herself at the princess. For a few desperate seconds, human and elf struggled, legs and knees kicked and fingers tore at one another. Jivayn managed to roll Margery onto her back and get atop the shapely princess. The smaller elf squeezed Margery between her thighs and managed to wrap her hands around the human woman's throat.
Jivayn drew the knife from the bedding and pressed the blade to Margery's throat. The princess had prepared herself for this possibility. She stared up, almost unblinking, and she smiled. Jivayn's black eyes
seemed to seethe with fury.
"Damn you," hissed Jivayn and she threw the knife across the room. "What have you done to me?"
Margery tried to seize the opportunity and throw the elf off her body. Jivayn growled and pinned Margery's wrists back into the bedding.
"You do not get to creep into my bed and hold a knife to my throat without repercussions." Jivayn brought her face down so close to Margery's that the princess could feel the warmth of the elf's breath against her lips. "Tonight I will punish you... with my mouth."
The kiss was as intense as any Margery had ever experienced. The lithe deep elf keep her legs tight around the princess and dropped her pert breasts against Margery's heaving mounds. The tiny, hard nipples of the elf rubbed against the princess's much fatter buds. The softness of the princess's bosom became a cushion for the elf's weight as their lips met, mouths opened and tongues met in a hot, wet dance of pleasure.
Both women cried out with desire and there were no more games. No more lies between them. Jivayn exposed her pure lust for the princess and the princess revealed she could never harm the elf. Margery's hands went from Jivayn's back, to her slender waist, to the slight roundness of the elf's hips, and finally around to the firm mounds of her bottom. She grabbed and squeezed and pulled Jivayn against her until she felt the heat that radiated from her quim.
This was something new. Jivayn permitted Margery's hands to explore freely. When Margery broke the kiss and rolled Jivayn onto her back, the elf only laughed and spread her thighs. The princess kissed her again, her lips moved lower and she began to lick at the delicate pink buds of the elf's nipples. She sucked them and stroked them with her fingers. She looked up at Jivayn as the suction of her mouth popped against the pert mounds of the elf's breasts.
"Oohhh," laughed Jivayn. "I will confess, I have wanted to do that to you on many occasion."
"Really?" Margery raised an eyebrow. "Well, then, I think it's time you have a taste."
Princess to Pleasure Slave Collection: The Forbidden Book of Monstrous Pleasures Page 62