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

by Amanda Clover

  The cold water soaked through her boots and the trailing skirt of her riding habit. She ignored the discomfort as soon as she heard the moan again, much closer than before. It seemed to becoming from a void in the far bank of the stream. She aimed the lantern’s light there and saw a tunnel mouth perhaps three feet high and seven or eight feet wide. There were distinctive, snake-like markings in the mud leading up to the tunnel and more scraps of cloth coated in glistening slime. The fishy smell was unpleasantly strong.

  Jenny hesitated at the mouth of the tunnel. She could sense the evil emanating from those foul-smelling depths. Some part of her knew that it was foolish to go down into that whole, but the part of her that won out knew that she could not refuse the challenge. She had to know what sort of beast was loose in the Blyghtsdon Wood.

  The lantern showed the way into the muddy tunnel. She walked at a crouch, her shoulders bent and her head rubbing against the muddy ceiling. All of the surfaces were disturbingly even, as if smoothed down by the hands of a skilled potter. The muddy tunnel descended perhaps twenty feet before it widened into a dark, partially-flooded chamber. Some tributary of the stream seemed to be flowing through the lower portions of the room.

  “Ohhhhhhh, give me more,” moaned the woman’s voice, now startlingly close.

  Jenny swung the light towards the source of the noise. Long shadows rippled on the wall. The shape was huge and moving in many directions at once. Its gray-blue color seemed to merge with the mud of the wall. Caught in the sharp relief of the lantern was the filthy, naked body of a woman surrounded by dozens of rippling tentacles.

  Jenny’s eyes went wide and she was paralyzed with fear. There was too much strange detail to take in at once. The woman was a part of the strangeness: the crazed expression on her face, the slime covering her ample curves, her grotesquely distended belly and her enormously swollen breasts.

  Those huge tits were being cradled by gelatinous cups that seemed to pulse and siphon mother’s milk from her engorged breasts. Her nipples twitched and sprayed her cream into the cups. This disappeared into more of the tendrils, sucked away as quickly as it spurted out. Jenny realized that his poor woman was being treated like a dairy cow.

  No, not a cow. Something else. The woman was being violated by multiple tentacles. The horrible appendages worked in and out, glistening with slime and gushing yellow-tinged, frothy semen into her quim and up her jiggling arse. The filthy spunk dripped down the woman’s quivering thighs and into the dark waters that surrounded her knees.

  The woman was surrounded by the massive nest of tentacles. Each was perhaps twenty feet long, as wide as Jenny’s thigh at the base and tapering to a blunt tip about the size of a thumb. The undersides of the tentacles were pink-tinted and lined with suckers that left red marks on the poor woman’s flesh. Jenny felt fear, disgust, and pity all at once, yet this woman, caught in the midst of the horror, seemed to be enjoying herself.

  “Fuck me harder,” she cried as the tentacles pounded in and out of her pussy and anus. “Oh, yesss, give me your filthy cream, master. I will bear your offspring, Great Gurgamuth.”

  Somehow, the creature had still not noticed Jenny and her lantern. She knew that this creature was too large for her to possibly confront directly. She had to escape.

  The terrified princess took several steps back and found she was walking not on smooth mud but on dozens of glistening, slime-sheathed human bones. She stepped backwards one more time and lost her footing. Her legs went out in front of her and she landed, hard, on her firm little bottom. The lantern rolled from her grasp.

  With a grotesque slurp, the creature slid its tentacles out of the woman’s pussy and arsehole. It surged towards Jenny in a writhing tangle of alien fury.

  The princess screamed and crawled as fast as she could. The night was a visible light up the tunnel. She scrambled desperately as she heard the tentacles slapping and sliding wetly after her. Something grabbed at her boot and she shook it off. She scrambled towards the promise of freedom. It grabbed her boot again, more firmly, and she kicked off the entire boot. That gave her the chance she needed to scramble out of the tunnel and roll into the stream.

  A slimy tentacle surged out of the tunnel after her and launched straight for Jenny’s face. The princess instinctively swung her sword and lopped off the end of the rubbery tentacle. Purple blood gushed from the maimed tentacle and the majority of it retreated into the tunnel.

  She fell back, gasping, into the water. She had to scream at herself, “Move!” to get back on her feet and run.

  She barely made it to the other bank before the creature burst forth from the tunnel and surged across the stream. Tentacles caught her arm and tore the sword from her grasp. Two tentacles wrapped around her left leg and dragged her violently onto her side. She drove the fingers of her other hand into the mud to keep the beast from dragging her into the stream.

  Jenny screamed and kicked furiously, knocking one tendril loose. Something tried to force its way into her mouth, but she kept her teeth clenched tightly as it pushed past her lips. More tentacles pushed under her skirt and tore aside the gusset of her underclothes. She screamed through her clenched teeth as a cold and slippery tentacle tried to force its way past the clench of her anus.

  The princess knew she was doomed. There was no hope of freeing herself or escaping this creature. She felt a certain sense of calm. She did not stop fighting, even as a tentacle pushed under her dress and fumbled under her corset. Even as the slippery tip of another pushed at her virgin opening.

  Umberto crashed out of the brush. He reared up on his hind legs and brought his hooves down on the tentacles grabbing the princess. Those tentacles released the princess and flailed as if in pain. More tentacles shot across the stream and seized the huge horse. Umberto reared up again and mashed open the flesh of one of the tentacles still holding the princess.

  Jenny tore the last tentacle free of her arm and she got up on her knees. For a moment, the beast concerned itself with her horse and it was enough time for her to scramble onto her feet. Umberto screamed in a way she had never heard a horse scream as a dozen tentacles wrapped around his neck and legs and even his muscular body. The horse was hauled off his feet and dragged into the stream.

  There was nothing the princess could do for her horse. Nothing she could do at all, except to run.

  Direction did not matter to her. The lashing pain of the brambles that tore at her skirt did not matter. All that mattered was escaping. Umberto fell silent behind her and a moment later there came the awful crash of the beast setting off into the woods in pursuit of her.

  Somehow, Jenny kept ahead of the horrible creature. She stumbled a few times, but always managed to pick herself up and go running through the brush. The beast was quick, it seemed tireless, but it was not as fast as a woman running for her life.

  She climbed a small hill and pressed herself against the trunk of a great oak. She tried to quiet her breathing and listen for the creature. It was out there, somewhere, crashing through the woods, but it started and stopped and moved laterally. It had lost her trail! She sunk down onto her haunches and fought back the urge to sob with fear.

  Jenny was exhausted, trembling, her clothes torn, and her arms and legs covered in blood scratches. She was missing one boot, her sword, and even her pack. Worst of all, she could still feel the creature’s slime on her body. It seemed to tingle and warm the folds of her virgin quim and the clenched entrance to her anus. A band of the slime stretched from just below her breast, down her abdomen, and to her left thigh. Thankfully, her virginity was intact.

  She let out a long quivering breath as images of the trauma she had just experienced flashed through her mind. Jenny saw the woman, probably the gamekeeper, with her swollen belly and her breasts being forcibly milked. Excruciating pleasure was frozen on the woman’s face. Had this creature somehow impregnated the woman? It seemed likely. Orcs and goblins and many other so-called monsters could interbreed with humans, but the princess h
ad never imagined such a strange creature would seek pleasure from a human.

  That creature was after more than pleasure. Jenny saw the slime-slicked bones on which she fell. There were finger bones and rib bones and leg bones. All of them belonged to humans.

  “Gods, what is happening?” Her voice quivered like her hands. “What is this forsaken creature?”

  The question seemed to steady her mind. Through all the tumult of her escape, Jenny had managed to keep her pack slung over her shoulders. She slid the burden from her back, trying to be as silent as possible. She took out her sketchbook and charcoals. Thought terrified, she found strength in focusing on the task of recording the details she had experienced.

  Her hand stopped shaking as she began to sketch the shape of the creature, keeping its lines rough to suggest the dozens of thick tentacles that composed its body. She never saw a mouth or eyes, though she suspected some sort of central body was hidden within its tentacles, but she added the cupped tentacles the monstrosity had used to milk the gamekeeper.

  “I will bear your offspring, Great Gargamuth,” whispered Jenny, repeating the last words she heard the gamekeeper moan in pleasure.

  Was a Great Gargamuth the species of this monster or was that the name of the individual creature? How could this woman know?

  “Maybe it speaks through some sort of mind spell,” whispered the princess as she wrote down the suggestion.

  She added that it seemed to interbreed with humans and she described its lair and the nature of its burrow. Then her mind returned to all those slippery bones. She pondered if that was the ultimate fate of the women it captured or if the creature was finding other humans to devour. Whatever the case, it clearly had a voracious appetite for human flesh.

  Something crackled loudly in the brush. It was disturbingly close. She stood up, her back pressed against the trunk of the great oak. Jenny’s breath came in shuddering gulps that steamed in the night air. She fought to be silent so she could listen for the noise.

  There it was again! There came the crackling of more brush and the unmistakable rasp of the beast’s tendrils over the earth and each other. It was no more than a dozen paces away! How had it come so close?

  She was so terrified that she almost cried out. A hand reached around her from the side of the tree and clamped tightly over her mouth. It was a big hand and even in the scarce moonlight she could see that it did not belong to a human. The hand pulled her away from the tree and into an alcove split naturally into the huge trunk. She found herself pressed against a huge, muscular body. She dared not move to try to turn around and in the darkness see much anyway.

  The tentacles of the beast appeared through the split in the oak. They quested into the hidden space, almost touching her breasts in her bodice, before they whipped away again. Some unfortunate animal cried out nearby and the oak tree shook with the force of the beast called Gargamuth launching itself in pursuit. For long seconds it tore loudly through the dark forest, moving farther and farther away. In the distance, there came an agonized cry of an elk. She imagined the poor animal being torn apart by the beast.

  Silence followed apart from the breathing of the two bodies sharing the hidden alcove in the oak tree. The hand slowly moved away from her mouth. Jenny swallowed the dryness in her throat and turned to face her savior.

  “Who are you?”

  The princess and the hulking orc asked the question in the same moment.

  Jenny had never seen a wild orc before, although this one appeared to be a bit more civilized than the orcs she had read about in her bestiaries. It wore a ragged tunic and trousers and the hide shin boots of a digger. Its gray-green arms were muscular and covered in spiral tattoo designs. It stood more than a head taller than the princess and its shoulders seemed twice as broad. In one huge fist it held the handle of a whitewood cudgel.

  The orc’s jaw was a jutting rectangle, its feature wide and somehow crude compared to a human. Two small tusks poked up from its lower lip. Its eyes were small and faintly reddish in the moonlight, though Jenny thought it might have been a trick of shadow. She resisted the urge to run from the huge orc.

  “Was with hunting party, after Seliok pelts,” said the orc.

  “A poacher,” said Jenny and the orc’s expression hardened.

  “Poacher? I hunt the wood my clan hunted. Now no more clan. I hunt with humans.”

  “Where are they?” asked Jenny, expecting to see the other poachers emerging from their own hiding places.

  “Gone. Father of Snakes takes them.” The orc seized her by one slender wrist. “He take you if I not save you.”

  She tried to pull her arm back from the orc, but found his grasp was as unbreakable as an iron shackle.

  “I have to get back to Maldonshire,” said Jenny. “I must warn my father. He will summon the hill knights and ride out after this beast before it kills anyone else.”

  The orc grimaced in a way that terrified Jenny. Her words somehow angered the orc. For a moment, his grasp tightened painfully on her wrist. He seemed to relax again. He even offered her a tight-lipped smile.

  “Go in morning,” he said. “Father of Snakes not hunt much in daytimes. I take you to where I sleep.”

  “I really should—OH!”

  The orc hung his cudgel from his belt and slung the willowy princess over his shoulder with ease, one huge hand indecently cradling her bottom as he set off into the dark wood.

  “Wait!” she cried softly. “My pack! Don’t leave my pack!”

  The orc grunted with annoyance, but scooped up her pack. It seemed so tiny, like a coin purse, as he slung it over his other massive shoulder. He moved swiftly and almost silently through the dark forest. This was clearly his environment and his vision seemed better suited than Jenny’s to the light-starved forest floor. She bounced with each of the orc’s bounding steps, jostling her inside and making her glad she had chosen the modest habit dress or her breasts would be flopping loose of her corset.

  “At least tell me your name,” she said as she jostled against the orc’s shoulder.

  His grasp tightened on her buttocks and she let out a yelp of surprise.

  “Torvar True Stroke,” he grunted. “What is name they call you?”

  “I am Princess Jenevienne Dormer, youngest princess of Maldonshire,” she said, a bit annoyed the orc had not recognized her. Everyone in court recognized her. All the servants and guards knew her. Why was this brute so ignorant?

  “Princess?” He gave her backside another squeeze.

  “Yes,” she said. “I’m certain my father will pay you handsomely if you see me home safely. I have collected some very important research about this—ohh!”

  The orc leapt fearlessly over a gully and the princess felt her tummy lurch as she was momentarily weightless. The orc landed and she bounced against his muscular shoulder with enough force that she nearly spit up her supper.

  “In morning, maybe I take you,” he said. “Now quiet.”

  It was an interminably long journey through the darkness, made all the more difficult for the princess by the jostling and the orc’s groping hand on her bottom. The last man that touched her bottom was Duke Lanford’s son, Klisven. She had slapped that sneering ponce across the face hard enough to bring tears to his eyes and he had only pinched her for a moment. This orc was taking shameful liberties. He squeezed his fingers along the seam of her crack and his small finger needed against her mound through the dark habit.

  “Ooooh, stop that,” she gasped softly.

  The orc ignored her and continued through the darkness. The warmth of his body made her very sweaty and the habit and underclothes clung to her body unpleasantly. The more the orc touched her backside, the more she tried to shift out of his grasp.

  He grunted with effort as he hoisted her into the branches of a great oak. With Jenny over his shoulder, the climb seemed difficult, even for this massive brute. He grunted again, with relief, as he slid her onto a small platform high in the branches. The pl
atform creaked in protest as the huge orc climbed up beside her. Sharing a space smaller than her bed in her bedroom at the castle, the young princess saw a small bedroll, haversack, and a few stinking bundles of pelts.

  Jenny saw something different in the orc’s expression. There was a hunger in his eyes and a faint smile that curled his savage lips. He blocked the way down from the platform with his body and crawled towards her.

  “What are you doing?”

  “We gonna be here long time, Princess Dormer of Mal-don-shire.” He plays with the hem of her habit dress. “I save you. Now you owe me.”

  “I-I’m not denying, some, um, debt is owed to,” her eyes widened as the orc slipped one big hand under her skirt, “but that does not entitle you to, I mean to say, a monetary reward should—“

  The orc’s hand pawed between her silky legs and found the gusset of her underclothes. She gasped as his fingers rubbed along the softness of her mound and pressed against the throbbing button of her pleasure. She scissored her legs closed, thighs tight against his hand as the orc chuckled at her discomfort.

  “Not money now,” growled the orc. “Now is princess. Now is soft, golden-haired princess.”

  He lifted a few locks of her hair and allowed it to slip through his fingers. She twisted her head out of his reach. He answered her refusal by rubbing more vigorously against the hot groove of her quim through her underclothes.

  “You cannot do this!” she cried.

  “Whole clan chased off lands by humans. Hunted here for ten-hundred whelpings and now this is ‘the king’s land’. Torvar is criminal in this wood. You belong to the king too. Maybe I take some from him.”

  The orc seized the blouse and bodice of her habit in his hands and pulled. The reinforced corset yielded to his strength, the cloth tore, and the silken cups beneath parted from Jenny’s plentiful breasts. Her heaving mounds were as white as cream, save for the flush of exertion that colored the top of the valley between them. Her plump nipples stood out from the pale peach of her wide areolas. She tried to cover her breasts with her hands, but Torvar used one, huge gray-green hand to pin her hands above her head.