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

by Amanda Clover

  “Yesssss!” Jianna cried and thrust her hips back until her ass collided with the rubbery thighs and soft belly of the chieftain. The bulging base of the chief’s cock stretched her pussy wide. It seemed to swell with each thrust and plug her tender entrance. She looked over shoulder to watch the fat frog man rutting into her pussy. Each thrust slapped against her ass and set her dangling breasts in motion.

  The small hut filled with Jianna’s gasps of helpless pleasure, the loud sap of amphibian flesh on smooth human flesh, and the intermittent croaks of the chief. Jianna watched his throat fill with air that he expelled in a loud croak. Her pussy clutched at the slippery cock inside her. The bulge seemed to move deeper. It sealed her virgin channel up tightly and only the slender part of the cock, from this bulge to the tapered tip, moved inside her with each of the wug’s thrusts.

  “Oh gods, I feel it!” cried the princess. “Inside me. Sealing me! It’s going to make me… hnnnn… cummmmmmmm!”

  The orgasm began deep inside her body. She arched her back so violently her nipples dragged against the warm stone beneath them. Spasms followed, rippling from her clutching channel and traveling through her entire body. Her clitoris throbbed with release and the taut pressure of her stretched opening magnified her pleasure. Even her asshole, untouched by the wug, clenched rhythmically with each wave of orgasmic contractions.

  One orgasm flowed easily into the next. She pressed hard onto the chief’s cock, burying the bulge of his cock deep in her channel. His cock throbbed in the midst of her contractions and she let out a cry of desperate relief as she felt the pressure of his cum wash into her tender depths. Tears spilled from her eyes and she cried, “Yes, breed me! Breed my pussy!”

  Some part of Jianna understood how debased the words sounded, but the words reflected her desires and the sensation of the fat wug pumping her young pussy full of his cum only heightened her bliss. Incredibly, the wug’s cock did not flag and he continued to thrust against her bottom. His juices overflowed her stretched flower and dripped down her thighs. He came again, quickly, and his jerking fuckmeat poured an ever-greater quantity of sperm-rich wug spunk into the princess’s pulsing pussy.

  When he finally withdrew his cock, the bulge left her with a last pinch of pressure and a wet pop, followed by the lewd discharge of trapped juices. Jianna felt the silky semen dripping down her thighs. It splattered against the rock between her knees. She trembled with aftershocks of pleasure. She wanted more, but was not certain her body could endure more pleasure.

  “Th-thank you,” she finally managed.

  The chief embraced her, croaking a reply and stroking his fat-fingered hand over the flatness of her belly. He seemed to be talking about the life they had just created. Somehow, against all logic, she knew his seed had taken root already. Perhaps the magic of the tea was that powerful. Or perhaps her body was the magic they had sought. Maybe, she reasoned, she was the Owada.

  She slept against the chief’s flabby body, listening to the strange sound of his heartbeat in his chest. The effects of the tea began to wear off and she became aware of aches and pains she had accumulated during her long hours of exertion. Her pussy was sore and sticky with cum. The strong smell of the semen on her thighs and creaming her folds became unpleasant to her senses as the tea wore off completely. She became disgusted with the chief and wanted to be away from him.

  She crawled silently off the hearth rock and cleaned her thighs with water from the small well dug into the floor. She resisted the urge to drink the milk from wine skin that floated in the well’s water. She remembered the pregnant woman and the way the disgusting chief had slurped at that woman’s breasts. The dullness in that woman’s eyes haunted Jianna. She wondered if that same dullness filled her eyes while under the influence of the tea.

  Jianna checked that the chief was still snoring and gathered an animal skin to drape over her shoulders. Outside the house, the first light of dawn was just reaching above the trees at the edge of the bog. The wug villagers had mostly retired to their houses to sleep for the day. The princess was accustomed to sneaking around her family’s castle and she put her skills to good use in the wug village. She stayed low and used the houses to hide her from the few wugs that were still active.

  She had no plan, but she seemed drawn by forces beyond her senses towards the huge, wood-sided building that Roorbek had called the “life maker.” Even thinking of the words gave her a shiver of revulsion. She had mated with the chief, more than once, and she felt the weight of his seed in her body as if it had already taken root.

  The closer she crept to the life maker, the more impressive its scale. It was as big as a temple in Maurient, domed like the smaller building, with four chimneys along its back that issued gray smoke. There was a sweet smell in the air around it, like a pastry in the oven. There were two doors, actual doors with wooden hinges, and Jianna listened at one for a few seconds. She heard soft, feminine moans and the muted croak of a male wug. Despite her fears, the princess experienced a momentary twitch of lust that burned at her cheeks.

  She opened the door and slipped into the darkness. There was a long hallway of bowed wooden reeds that approached a large, central room mostly concealed by a hanging animal pelt. To her left and right were small, open rooms. One was filled with heat and steaming equipment that smelled strongly of sour milk. The room on the other side contained a wug and human woman, partially concealed behind another pelt over the entrance. Jianna listened for only a moment and heard the woman sigh, “Yesssss.”

  The princess hoped the wug would remain busy for a while. Though she wanted to linger and perhaps pull aside the pelt to witness the frog man with the woman, Jianna continued deeper into the life maker. There was a distinctive odor of urine in the air and more of that sour milk smell. Gurgling pipes ran overhead. Jianna heard the hiss of machinery and the moaning of women. Many women. Her heart pounded faster as she approached the last pelt.

  She pushed it aside and stepped into the main room of the life maker. There was no candle or torch, so the light was faint, but the scale of the room was immediately apparent. Two dozen small pens of reeds were arranged in a circular shape. Inside almost every pen stood a human or elf woman.

  These women were voluptuous, most were obviously pregnant as they stood with legs apart, their quims exposed, and their upper bodies leaned over wooden poles. Their wrists were held in leather shackles above and behind their backs. Their breasts, hugely engorged with pregnancy, were cupped by gum-rubber funnels connected to hoses. These hoses led to a gurgling machine at the center of the circle of pens.

  “It is a dairy,” moaned Jianna, stricken by the sight, the heat, and the stifling musk of so many women being milked. “A human dairy barn.”

  The rubbery funnels slurped with suction on the dangling tits of more than a dozen women. The only thing worse than the suction and the steady gurgle of the hoses was the moans of pleasure that escaped their lips. They seemed to take pleasure in the milking. Their faces were plastered with gape-mouthed smiles, a few of them even drooled, and all of them rubbed against the reeds that held them in place trying to receive some sexual gratification.

  “Please,” moaned the plump, green-haired elf nearest to Jianna. “Please… fuck me…”

  She waggled her hips obscenely and Jianna could make out the elf woman’s pussy glistened in the gathering light of the morning. The princess felt a sudden heat. Remnants of the tea? The smell of the milk? She took an unwilling step closer to the woman.

  “Fuuuuuck me,” moaned the elf. She tossed her hair and tried to gaze back at Jianna over her shoulder. The ropes and padded shackles prevented it and so the woman swung her hips again. She moaned, “Please!”

  Against all wisdom, Jianna took another step closer to the green-haired elf. And another. She reached out with both hands, through the reed bars of the pen, and touched the plump onion of the elf’s bottom. It was so warm and so lusciously soft. The princess squeezed the tantalizing flesh. She spread the el
f’s buttocks and admired the pale pink clench of her anus and the green-fuzzed mound of her glistening pussy.

  “Yesssss,” gasped the elf.

  A thousand forbidden fantasies of lesbian pleasure burst unbidden into Jianna’s imagination. In her mind’s eye, her fingers and tongue and body became tools to pleasure the desperate elf trapped in the pen. The princess wet her full lips and sunk to her knees. The elf moaned louder and thrust her bottom back against the pen so hard that the cage shook and the soft flesh of her ass squeezed between the wooden slats.

  Ignoring the unwashed smell and the strong musk of female arousal, Jianna leaned closer, intending to lick every tender bit of the elf. Before she could, strong hands seized the princess under her arms and hauled her to her feet with such sudden violence that her makeshift cloak fell away and her breasts jiggled forcefully. The elf cooed with disappointment.

  “Please,” cried the princess, without any care for her attacker, “let me go.”

  She craved the elf. Her pussy burned with desire for the mewling woman. Roorbek turned Jianna around and slapped her face with the boneless fingers of his hand. The slap was hard enough to shock tears from her eyes and snap her out of the trance of lust.

  “You see life maker,” said Roorbek.

  “Yes. It’s… it’s awful,” moaned the princess. She cast her gaze around the room as the penned women continued to moan and the milking hoses gurgled.

  “Owada.” Roorberk reached up and stroked Jianna’s face. He wiped away her tears. “Always be this way. Tribe need milk. Tribe need mate.”

  “They’re pregnant with your children?”

  “Warm womb needed for birth. Your kind is happy here. Want seed.”

  It was true that the women seemed happy despite the squalor and the imprisonment. They were drugged and the thick atmosphere of lust continued to take its toll on Jianna. She considered the idea that the wugs required human mates to procreate.

  “Yes,” said Jianna. She understood. This was not right, but it was necessary. She saw the tea for what it was: not simply an aphrodisiac but a fertility enhancer. “What am I then, Roorbek? What is the Owada.”

  “You are beauty. You are goddess. Golden-haired Mother. To join my blood and your blood.” His hand touched her naked abdomen. His fingers curled over her sex and gently rubbed at her entrance, still sticky with the residue of the chieftain’s seed. The princess moaned and fell into Roorbek’s arms. The musk of arousal in the air was too strong to be resisted. Her weight and momentum carried them both to the ground and she eagerly climbed atop the smaller wug.

  “Owada?” Roorbek looked up at her with a questioning expression on his froggy face.

  She answered him with her lips on his, her tongue testing his mouth and her fingers that caressed the soft slit of his genitals. His cock stirred and slid from his inner sheath. Her soft body settled atop him, her breasts moving with each stroke of her hand between his legs until she held his slick erection in her fingers.

  “I need it,” she gasped between kisses. “I need more. Fuck me.”

  She spoke the vulgarity with the urgency of the moment. It was more than a request. She straddled Roorbek and guided his cock to her entrance. He let out a helpless croak as she gently impaled her ripe peach onto his amphibian stiffness. Human and frog man let out a simultaneous groan of pleasure. She savored it for a moment and squeezed him with her inner muscles. His hands cradled her bottom. She began to move atop him.

  The moaning and scents of the dairy called the life maker drove Jianna’s lust. Her breasts swung, her ass bounced, and her hungry sex swallowed Roorbek’s cock. She rode atop him as confidently as she once rode her cantering horse. His twitching maleness was so much nicer than the pommel of her favorite saddle.

  “Owada,” moaned Roorbek, “your heat churns seed.”

  “Yessss,” she cried, riding towards her own inevitable destination. “Fill me again and again.”

  She wanted it nasty and wet and gushing. She wanted her body to be filled like a custard pastry with the jelly of wug spunk. She squeezed against Roorbek’s cock with each heaving ride atop him. His grip tightened on her bottom.

  “Owada!” he cried, prompting a jealous moan from the green-haired elf.

  Waves of gooey wug spunk provided a fresh coating for Jianna’s inner walls. The churning juices spilled over Roorbek’s cock and between his thighs. She continued to ride him, gasping with pleasure as his widened plug pushed into her pussy. She rocked her clit against it and came hard, squeezing around him in waves as the orgasm rippled through her. Roorbek rewarded her with another load of his seed and a third, before finally his cock began to wilt.

  They collapsed together. She was unwilling to dismount from him even as his cock retracted with a slurp and his silky spunk drained out of her well-used fuckhole.

  This was her destiny, Jianna realized. To mate with the wugs. But not like these women locked in their pens. No human should be forced to endure such a thing. If she was to stay with the wugs, certain things would need to change.

  Epilogue

  Chief Goorboobek had lost some weight. It was unusual for a chief to shed his authoritative fat at the height of his power and yet the chief’s wife had insisted upon it. Chief-mate Jianna, Owada of the tribe, sat beside the chief at the head of the torchlit ceremony. Nine women walked forward in a solemn procession. They wore loose wraps around their hips and down to their knees to conceal the legacy of their tattoos, but their gloriously engorged breasts were bare. The women looked up with pride at Jianna and at the chief.

  “Twenty-nine cups,” said the green-haired elf called Luayna. Her eyes were larger than a human’s and caught the firelight. Her smile was mischievous as she looked up at the chief and his wife. “Almost as much milk as when we were forced to produce and there are only half as many of us.”

  The chief waved a hand and Luayna dipped a wooden bowl into the cauldron. She walked up to the chief and held the bowl to his lips. She smiled and watched him drink the mingled milk of the nine dairy maids. He gave an appreciative croak and licked his lips. He spoke to Jianna in the language of the wugs, a language the young princess had learned while recovering from her first birthing.

  “Chief Goorboobek is pleased with your offering,” said the princess. “In exchange he commands a feast for the milk givers.”

  A cheer went up from the wugs and the human women, ending the ceremony. The feast was already set and a final wave of the chief’s hand gave leave to enjoy the festivities.

  Luayna visited Jianna near the end of the feast. The princess, now effectively queen of the wugs, was not shy about her desires that reached beyond the stone she shared with the chief. She slid an arm around the slender waist of the green-haired elf.

  “Join us in our qoab tonight,” whispered Jianna.

  “As you wish,” said Luayna.

  The feast ended and the princess returned with her husband to the largest of the houses, qoabs, in the village. Her children were waiting to be fed. They were unlike the other wugs. Jianna’s breeding with the king had resulted, for the first time, in a true hybrid between the species. Jianna’s three sons and two daughters would someday be the foundation of a new breed of wug that no longer required human women to reproduce. As the Owada, she would birth such children for every male of the tribe. She had recently been seeded by Roorbek. The wug that had saved her would father her first brood, beside the chief.

  She looked at her husband with something finally approaching genuine affection. It had taken some time to overcome her revulsion and to accept her marriage. Since Goorboobek had granted the milk makers their choice of freedom or continued servitude, Jianna found it much easier to lie down with the fat wug.

  “Husband,” she croaked in the language of the wugs, “you look tired.”

  He sat atop the heated rock, his eyelids nearly closed and his fat belly resting against his folded legs. His eyelids opened a little more and an expression she knew to be a wug smile curled his l
ips.

  “I am old,” said Goorboobek. “But always younger when I look upon you, Owada.”

  “Luayna will be by soon to join us on the stone,” she croaked as she climbed onto the warmed rock. She crawled on hands and knees to her husband. “Let me prepare you for her arrival.”

  “This I cannot refuse.”

  The fat wug chief spread his legs apart and rested his weight on his arms so he could lean back. Jianna did not even bother with her hand. She lifted her naked bottom behind her and leaned her face between the chief’s rubbery thighs. She did not bother with her hand. She began to lick his genital opening, arousing him quickly and filling her mouth with the familiar taste of her husband’s cock. Goorboobek croaked with pleasure and inflated his throat as the former princess sucked him dutifully.

  She was moaned around him and bobbed her head on his cock. The door skins over the qoab shifted and Luayna made her way into the fire-warmed chamber. Jianna’s lips popped from her husband’s hardness and she looked back at the comely, voluptuous elf with the wide, swaying hips.

  Luayna’s green hair was pulled back from her face to reveal her long, pointed ears. Her breasts were enormously engorged from her months of willingly drinking the tea of Owada and the milk of her sisters. She was no longer pregnant and her belly had tightened rapidly to elven slenderness. Not so for her plump bottom, which matched well with her wide hips and huge breasts.

  “Oh, is this for me?” Luayna asked as she climbed onto the stone behind Jianna and ran her hand over the princess’s round bottom.

  “Of course, milk giver,” said Jianna. “Allow me to give my husband a little more pleasure.”

  Luayna peeked around Jianna’s shoulder as the princess returned her mouth to Goorboobek’s straining cock. The elf giggled as she dropped onto her hands and knees beside Jianna. The two women met at the wug chief’s purpling prick. They kissed around him, tongues joined in lapping at the sweet nectar that dripped from his cock.