Princess to Pleasure Slave 25: Insidious Imp Edition

by Amanda Clover

  Ioana was elated. The spell had worked. Here was her ally! Lean, and horned, and with glowing eyes and... with a rather large cock for a creature that stood just over two feet tall.

  "Summoner?" The creature asked, tilting its head.

  "Shhhhh!" She said. "Keep your voice down."

  "Where is this place?"

  "The mountains of Esbek," said Ioana. "You are in an abbey of the Order of the Mountain Flower."

  She held out the symbol that hung around her neck and the tiny man cringed from it, hissing and shielding his face.

  "No more," he cried. "You summoned me to torture me?"

  "Oh, no, sorry," she said, tucking the symbol into her habit. "I summoned you to have a friend. I hate it here and nobody respects me. They are all very cruel and stupid. I found this book and, well, it's a long story, but what is your name? What are you?"

  "What am I?" The creature laughed in a mocking tone. "You summoned me without knowing?"

  "Do not be rude to me," pouted Ioana. "I have never done this before."

  "Ah, of course, well, I am often known to your kind as an imp," said the creature, spreading his leathery wings as if stretching them out. "I help wizards, sorcerers, lonely girls in convents, you know..."

  "Are you a good creature?" She asked hopefully.

  "Oh, of course, I am very good," he said. "A loyal friend for you now, what is your name?"

  "Sister Ioana Valduva," said Ioana.

  "Yes, of course," said the creature. "I will call you mistress since you summoned me. My name is very long and hard to say, but I am sometimes called Rasoot, which is a type of boot. You could call me that or any other name you like."

  "Rasoot is fine," she said.

  "You are a very beautiful mistress," said the imp. He hopped onto the bed beside Ioana. "Perhaps the most beautiful sorceress that has ever called upon me. You need a friend? I will be a friend. You need more? I will be more."

  His dangling cock was very close to Ioana's hand. She jerked her hand away from it so that he did not accidentally brush his red manhood against her.

  "You are so pretty, with dark hair like a raven's feather and big, silver-blue eyes," said Rasoot. "Your bust cannot be concealed by that silly robe you wear. Take it off, please. Show it to me."

  "What?!" Ioana was furious. "I will do no such thing!"

  "Oh, but whatever you desire you will have," he said. He danced from foot-to-foot, causing his flaccid penis and bollocks to swing between his scrawny legs. Ioana moaned in horror and covered her face in her hands.

  "Enough," she hissed. "And be very quiet. If I am caught with you, well, we will both suffer terribly."

  "What do you want me to do?" Asked Rasoot and there was a lecherous hint to his words.

  Ioana was about to scold him when she heard a sound from the hallway. Cold fear shot down her back and prickled her arms. She heard the scuffing of feet approaching in the hallway outside her quarters.

  "Hide," she said, her heart beating with sudden fear. "Go into the wardrobe over there. Hide inside it."

  Rasoot obediently hopped down from the bed, scampered over to the standing wardrobe, and climbed inside. He left the door open a crack and Ioana could see his violet eyes glowing faintly behind her habits and slips.

  The footsteps in the hallway moved to Ioana's doorway. She could hear someone breathing out in the hall, she thought she even heard their fingers touch the latch to her door. They moved swiftly away as if changing their mind. The sound disappeared up the stairs to the second floor. That was where the senior sisters lived. And Sister Superior.

  Ioana let out a fearful breath and relaxed back onto her bed. She tried to sleep. Each time she thought she might drift off, she opened her eyes and looked into the wardrobe and saw Rasoot staring at her. Her inability to sleep grew more and more frustrating until she finally sighed and said, "Alright, come back out of the wardrobe."

  Rasoot hopped from the wardrobe to Ioana's bed in a single bounce. She had to cover her mouth to keep herself from laughing at the sight of his bollocks swinging and his cock bouncing obscenely.

  “What is it, mistress?” He whispered.

  “I cannot sleep with you watching me from the wardrobe,” she said. “So talk to me. Tell me about the place you are from.”

  Ioana pushed up against the headboard into a sitting position. Rasoot plopped down into a sitting position beside her. Ioana thought he looked up at her almost adoringly. Quite a change from the mocking looks she received from sisters like Brookwen or the cruel eyes of Sister Superior Agatha.

  “It is deep and dark, deeper even the lairs of the giantkind,” said Rasoot. “It is not nice like this place. There are not many pretty girls there. Most things either want to enslave you, hurt you, or eat you.”

  “That does not sound very nice,” agreed Ioana. She leaned her head back to the pillows and Rasoot moved closer to her head. She was keenly aware that his penis was only a few inches from her face. A faint wetness glistened at the tip. She wondered, for a moment, whether Rasoot might spill seed just like a human man.

  “Do you like it?” He asked softly and reached down to heft his oversized cock in his clawed hand.

  “No, no,” objected Ioana. “I don’t like… it was so close to my face. That was why I was looking at it. There is nothing else about it that is particularly interesting.”

  Rasoot frowned and hefted it again. He craned his neck to look at his own cock as if he might see something wrong with it.

  “I do not mean to insult you,” said Ioana, blushing deeply. “It seems, well, I do not know much about such things. I have never seen one in person. Other than my father once when he was drunk and left his… oh dear. I have said enough. You should go back to your wardrobe.”

  She turned over onto her side, turning her back to Rasoot. The imp did not move. He did not go scampering back to his wardrobe.

  “You have never seen one before?” He hopped around to the other side of the bed. “It is okay to look. Touch if you want. I am your servant, mistress. You should know such things.”

  “Touch it? No, no, it’s just… does it always have this collar of skin like this?”

  “No,” chuckled Rasoot and he skinned it down his cock, revealing the full bulbous tip. He red-to-purple manhood began to swell.

  “Oh, it’s getting bigger,” said Ioana.

  “Yes, when I look at you,” said Rasoot. “When I touch it. Then it gets bigger.”

  He moves his tiny hands on his shaft and over his tip, spreading the oil-like liquid that leak out over his cockhead. Ioana’s breathing grew heavier and heavier as the imp knelt only a few inches from her face and wanked his red cock. It swelled up to the size surely to match the cocks of most human men. It seemed even bigger than her father’s. Looking upon Rasoot’s cock and those balls that swayed in their sack made Ioana feel very warm all over, but particularly between her legs.

  “I want to touch it,” she blurted, her desire finding a voice before her shame could stop it.

  “Of course, mistress,” said Rasoot and he flashed his fanged smile. “Put out your hand. No, with the palm up. Yes, like that. I will set my cock in your hand and you may touch it how you like.”

  Rasoot eased himself into a low crouch and rested the warm length of his shaft across Ioana’s outstretched palm. She felt the heaviness of it for a moment before she closed her thumb and fingers around the imp’s dark red cockshaft. Rasoot let out a satisfied groan as she squeeze his manhood. She could not help but smile as she gave him another squeeze. She felt his cock flex in her hand.

  “Oh, it moved!” She giggled softly. “Does it feel nice when I squeeze?”

  “Yes, mistress,” groaned Rasoot. “It would feel even nicer if you squeeze and move your hand up and down. Along the shaft… yes… oh, yessssss.”

  Rasoot dropped his head back and moaned with pleasure as Ioana began to move her gripping hand along the length of the imp’s throbbing cock. It grew warmer and warmer by the momen
t and seen to strain in her grasp as if it wanted to escape on its own. The tiny imp made all sorts of silly faces and soft sounds of pleasure as she worked her hand over his cock, smearing his oily juices beneath her fingers as she stroked.

  The imp had no hair on his loins and the smell of his manhood was clean and faintly spicy, like cinnamon or nutmeg. The juice that leaked from his cock did have a slight musk that stirred Ioana’s desire with each fresh drop that she slicked over the bulging glans of the imp. She worked her hand faster and faster along his cock, causing the imp to pant with pleasure.

  “That’s it, mistress,” moaned the imp. “Your hand is so soft and yet your grip is so firm. My stones churn with pleasure.”

  “What will happen?” She whispered with barely-restrained delight. “Will you spill your seed?”

  “Yes,” moaned the imp, thrusting his slender hips and fucking his cock through her grasp. “Quite forcefully. You know, mistress, they say… ohhhh… an imp’s seed is a very good tonic for sleep.”

  “Really?” Ioana raised her eyebrows in surprise, though she believed it possible; the fluids of monsters were well known to provide ingredients to potent magic elixirs.

  “Oh, yes,” gasped the imp, his cock darkening and seeming to swell even more. “Yes, yes, it is a potent sleep tonic. All your must do… ohhhhhhh… is swallow as much as you can.”

  “Swallow it? Really?” Ioana pursed her lips. “I’ve seen a man’s seed before, it looked quite foul.”

  “Oh, no, an imp’s seed is delicious. Every human craves it once they’ve had a taste. Sweet and spicy. You will like it, mistress.” He turned and thrust his cock towards her face. “Go on, mistress. Taste my cock.”

  He wagged his hardness in her face. She giggled softly, pursing her lips as she winced away from it, but she kept her hand stroking up and down his straining length.

  “Just a taste,” hissed Rasoot. “Give it a lick, mistress. Please.”

  Ioana was certainly shielded, growing up in a castle, but even she knew well enough that such things were done between men and women. Clarya had once told Ioana that before coming to the abbey whored in Yastrelweld and she would charge men two silvers to take her dress down from her shoulders and let them feel her and another three to suck on their cocks. Ioana had blushed and found Clarya’s descriptions of sucking out warm, salty seed from men and spitting it on the alleyway cobblestones both scandalous and enthralling. Clarya had called it “a strange soup” and had said some men “asked her to take her medicine rather than waste it on the ground.”

  The thought of doing the same for the glistening, red length of Rasoot’s cock sent a shudder of desire through Ioana. She had already done something unforgivable and summoned what was quite probably a demon. She could think of no good excuse not to indulge further in her desires.

  Rasoot thrust through her stroke hand, pushing his hot, bulbous cockflesh against her lips. His oozing juice spread across her lips and tingled sweetly when she flicked it with her tongue. Her body grew warmer and she moaned softly, parting her lips and allowing the tapered tip of Rasoot’s cock to thrust into her mouth. She closed her lips again, still moaning, the sound vibrating against the imp’s oversized cock as she took it deeper, over her tongue, and sucked.

  “Yessssssssss,” hissed the imp, resting both clawed hands against her silk hair. “Lips so soft. Mouth so warm. Do you like the way it tastes?”

  “Mmmmhmmm,” murmured Ioana.

  She closed her eyes and sucked at Rasoot’s cock as he thrust between her soft lips. His bollocks slapped lightly against her chin. The sweet, oily liquid that leak from his cock coated her tongue and filled her mouth with his tingling, spicy sweetness. She sucked him harder and more eagerly. She rocked her hips and pushed against the bed, keenly aware of her aroused state as her slip rubbed against her tender folds and aching clit. She clenched her shapely buttocks, humping against her bedding as the grunting imp slid faster and faster between Ioana’s soft lips.

  “Ohhhhh mistress,” he panted, black tongue lolling from his fanged mouth. “Oh, it is so wonderful. I am near to spilling my seed in your suckling mouth.”

  “Mmmm,” moaned Ioana with excitement. She opened her eyes and looked up at the pleasure on Rasoot’s little face.

  “Your tongue, mistress, oh… the way it curls beneath my cock. Ohhhhh… I cannot stand it. So wonderful… AAAHHH!”

  Rasoot gave Ioana’s mouth two more jerking thrusts of his hips, driving his cock to the back of her throat and nearly gagging her. She blinked away tears and fought back the urge to choke. A moment later, the little demon’s cock throbbed powerfully between her lips and a great quantity of warm, thick liquid spurted across her tongue and to the back of her throat. She swallowed instinctively as Rasoot moaned and more of the hot liquid spurted out.

  It was wonderful! Sweet and slightly nutty and quite salty. Each gulped stuck in her throat for a moment before it slid down to her belly. It warmed her body, like a sweet liqueur, and inflamed her lust until she was in nearly frenzied. She moaned and slurped and drank every drop of Rasoot’s seed.

  At last, he pulled his cock from between her lips. Ioana gasped and thrust both hands beneath her body and under her slip. She thrust fingers into her hot quim and fucked them with desperate jerks of her hips.

  “So good,” she moaned. “Your seed… is so delicious.”

  “Yes, humans become addicted to it,” chuckled Rasoot. “There are even more satisfying ways I can give it to you, mistress.”

  But Ioana could barely hear him as she fucked herself with her fingers and a powerful orgasm shook her shapely body. She buried her face in the bed, wailing with ecstasy and pumping her fingers in and out of her slick pussy. A pleasure like she had never felt before gripped her flesh and it was only heightened by the lingering sweetness of Rasoot’s cum and the warmth of it in her belly.

  She spent her pleasure against her fingers and slumped into the bed gasping for breath. Rasoot stretched out beside her with his hands behind his head and his limp cock curled over his skinny thigh.

  “You… have to hide…” She whispered. “I am so tired.”

  “I told you my seed would help you to sleep,” chuckled Rasoot. “Yes, mistress. I will hide again.”

  She was already slipping off to sleep as he hopped from the bed and crept into the closet. Ioana’s dreams promised to be more vivid and erotic than ever before.

  The Sacrificial Maidens

  The next morning, at breakfast in the abbey’s cavernous dining hall, Sister Ioana sat among the nuns that silently bowed their heads and offered praise to Meryiana for the bland gruel they were about to eat. Ioana tried to speak the rote morning prayer along with the other girls, but her lips fumbled with the words and she could not focus on Meryiana nor the gruel. When she closed her eyes, she saw Rasoot and his thick cock, erect and glistening with his juices. She could still taste him on her lips.

  The soft chant of the group prayer ended and the women began to eat their bland breakfasts.

  “You seem different today,” said Clarya, leaning over to Ioana. “Did that balm work for you?”

  “What?” Ioana had to think for a moment before she realized what Clarya was talking about. “Oh, yes. It soothed the pain quite well. Thank you, sister.”

  “Surprised she can sit after the hiding I heard she got,” sneered Brookwen from across the table.

  “Was not as bad as the caning you got the time you dropped the potted Idylwhite from Sister Superior’s desk,” snapped Clarya, giving Brookwen a teasing smile. Brookwen flushed, but lowered her head and quieted herself with a spoonful of gruel. Clarya turned back to Ioana and spoke even more quietly, “Sister Superior has you on lavatory duties today, but I got myself into a bit of trouble so I could join you.”

  “You didn’t have to do that,” said Ioana.

  “But I want to hear all about what the Sister Superior was doing in your room,” whispered Clarya.

  Ioana’s face went hot at the mem
ory. She had been so focused on Rasoot that she had been able to avoid thinking about the way Agatha had taken advantage of her. And how she had enjoyed it in a pitiful way. She did not want to dwell on it.

  “I have something else to tell you about,” said Ioana. She pressed her lips against Clarya’s ear and whispered, barely louder than a breath, “I cast a magic spell.”

  Clarya’s eyes went wide. She looked at Ioana in disbelief and Ioana nodded to confirm that she was not joking. Clarya mouthed a very inappropriate curse and smiled with something like respect. Ioana felt a certain pride at earning that smile from Clarya. Ioana was always astonished with Clarya’s stories of whoring and debauchery. Ioana had never had her own blasphemy with which to impress Clarya.

  The morning lessons were an unusual bore. Ioana could think of nothing but Rasoot and the excitement of telling Clarya about him. She imagined all the ways she would explain the imp to her friend. Perhaps she could even find a time to steal away from her duties and return to her room with Clarya. She could show her friend her imp familiar. Clarya would be so impressed with Rasoot’s handsome red cock. She might even want to taste it for herself.

  Ioana was lost in her fantasies of what she might do with Clarya and the imp together in her bedroom. She did not hear Sister Bethenea calling upon her four times. The senior sister teaching the lesson on the holy sets of sevens had to walk over to Ioana and shout at her, “Name the seven kings of paradise, Ioana!”

  “Um, oh, uh… Alawanus? And there is Deodemus who—“

  “Alawanus and Deodemus are the seven princes of paradise,” snapped Bethenea. “You were not listening to a word of the lesson. Sister Superior warned me to be on the watch for your misbehavior. Go to her office, right away. She said she would be waiting for you to act up.”

  “Please… no, please. I will—“

  “Now!” Snapped Bethenea and she pointed to the door.

  Brookwen, who sat in the back row of the class, tittered and rolled her dark eyes at Ioana as the young sister shuffled past. Ioana’s dreams of a rendezvous between Rasoot and Clarya were gone. She thought of stern Sister Superior Agatha and remembered the way Agatha’s bony fingers wrapped in her hair. Ioana still remembered the hot juice of Agatha’s furry cunt pouring into her mouth and down her chin. The memory both repelled and excited her.