Betrayal of the Busty Concubine Read online

  Princess to Pleasure Slave Chronicle

  Book Seven

  Betrayal of the Busty Concubine

  By Amanda Clover and Jay Aury

  @amandasmut

  Cover artwork by Deilan12

  This book and all its contents are copyright 2018 by Amanda Clover. All rights are reserved and no portions may be reproduced unless for the use of brief quotations for review purposes.

  All characters appearing in this story are over the age of 18. This is a work of parody and any resemblance to real people or situations is coincidental.

  Map of the Empire of Istanov

  The Chronicle

  The time of monsters was said to be at an end.

  The rise of the great human empires of Istanov, Heimsvak, and the desert kingdom of Shaddobar brought the elves to heel and drove the tribes of orcs, goblins, and stranger monsters to the margins.

  The last great monster uprising occurred more than 50 years ago, when a brave huntress named Penelope Helsdottir prevented the ascension of a new monster god and formed the Huntresses of Ctharne. These unique warrior women were dispatched throughout the known world wherever trouble arose to tame what monsters they could and destroy those that could not be made into allies.

  But within the borders of Istanov, trouble brews. Long years of peace and prosperity have blinded the Istanov dynasty and the people of this nation to a new danger. As monsters gather, seemingly heeding the call of a powerful human leader, will the nobles of Istanov react in time? Or will overconfidence prove the undoing of an empire?

  These are the Princess to Pleasure Slave Chronicles.

  In Service to the Emperor

  Hair as lustrous as the fresh spun gold. A figure of sensuous curves masked in a gown of finest silk. Lips of red, eyes of dark suggestion, with skin as flawless as pearl. And above all, a face men would kill for and women die for.

  Fabia Lystra admired herself in the full body mirror, slowly turning to and fro. Gods she was beautiful, she mused. A vision! She had to be the second loveliest woman in all of Istanov. In all the world! She tweaked one of the sashes of her gown, pulling it up a little higher around the curves of her bust. She leaned forward, unscrewing a bar of glistening lipstick and applying another coat. She smacked her lips, winking at her reflection and stepped back.

  She was ready.

  Turning, the buxom seductress strode across the floor of the tent. Light from the lamps played off her curves and flashed off the gold earrings and necklace of richest diamonds like strung stars. The silver trim of her gown flashed as she thrust open the door of the tent and stepped outside.

  Campfires glowed across the expanse of the valley the army had stopped in. Footmen hustled below, steel rang from the smithy tents. Horses whinnied. Men shouted, and above all was the low drone of conversation from hundreds of soldiers and camp followers gathered together.

  Fabia wrinkled her nose a little at the stench of horse, manure and mud. Ugh. How she missed the palace, where it was forever spring and servants were ever present to see to her needs. Where her chambers were wreathed with tapestries and fires glowed in giant hearths, sprinkled with incense to spice the air sweeter. She sighed. But needs must. And at least the emperor had enough class to keep their enclave above that of the common soldiery. Allegedly his sister, Damera Moskov, often went among the troops to encourage them. Fabia scoffed. Well. All that would be dealt with soon enough.

  She strode across the camp, drawing the eye of every man from the lowest stableboy to the highest knight. Little wonder. The tired whores who frequented the camps couldn’t compare to her beauty. And the fact they knew they would never possess her sent a thrill through the concubine, tingling in her breasts and hardening her nipples. No. Her loveliness was for greater men than they. Had been for a long time.

  The emperor’s tent was the largest in the camp. Practically a pavilion, striped with the imperial colours like a massive circus tent. Guards ringed the place, at attention. She sighed as once of the priests checked her to ensure she wasn’t a doppelganger, then stepped aside, admitting her past the first ring of defences. She paused outside the tent, cocking her head and listening to the conversation within.

  “My Emperor, we have plunged in too far ahead. The Duke of Ashes is not like the enemies we have faced before. His lines are more nebulous. We are already beyond our own territories and our supply lines grow thin.”

  “Worried, Claudus?” Emperor Androse barked. “This Duke of Ashes may have triumphed against the distant provinces, but now he faces a true army! We’ll force him to fight yet.”

  “How, my Emperor?” Gedravor said softly. “The only territory we know he possesses is the distant city of the east. And to march that far is madness. We haven’t seen a human populated town in weeks now. Our reserves have only recently gathered, and though they have made good time, they are still distant. I fear we are already deep in our enemy’s lines.”

  “He will fight or he is a coward,” Androse said sharply. “He won’t be able to resist the chance to strike, lest he’s labelled a coward. And who would follow a coward? Hm? And when he does try and face us in true battle? Why, then, we will be ready!”

  “And what of your sister?” another voice said, cool and brittle as new winter. “The Red Mages have declared for her, and the Order of Roses from Heimsvak as well. A number of the foremost provinces have also thrown their allegiance behind her, and there is talk of others considering.”

  “Traitors all!” Androse snarled. Fabia heard something shatter and knew he had hurled his wineglass against something. She smiled grimly. Androse’s sister had always been a sticking point with him, but since Damera’s declaration that she was against him, and was even seeking the throne of the empire, the mere mention of her sent Androse into a blind rage. “Never speak of her before me! Do you hear? Never! She may have been father’s favorite, but I was his heir! And by the gods, when we’ve dealt with the Duke of Ashes, we’ll turn about and show my sister and her band of traitors what it means to betray me!”

  “My Emperor…”

  “Quiet, Claudus! Or have you forgotten who I am?”

  “I have not, my Emperor,” Claudus said in a low voice. “But I do not agree that this Duke of Ashes will fight us on the field. A coward he may be, but he is a cunning foe. The beasts who follow him have lurked in the shadows, and even now strike from them. It is how they have taken so many. By subterfuge and cunning. And you have not gone to war like your father had-“

  “My father failed to take Heimsvak, if you’ll recall. He even lost the fortress in the pass! My father’s only claim to glory was destroying those pathetic tribesman in the northern hills and subjugating them. Had I been emperor then, we would never have lost the pass! Or do you not recall who it was that won the tournament of Roses when he was merely fifteen?”

  “Twenty years past, my Emperor,” Claudus said grimly. “And this is no ordered bout. But war.”

  “And our emperor surely understands war,” Fabia said, thrusting aside the tent flap and striding inside.

  Her entrance had the desired effect. Every man looked towards her in surprise. Claudus was the first to react, the aged general’s wrinkled face slowly deepening with displeasure, his hand stroking his snow white beard slowly. Even though they had no reason to fear attack, the old man was wearing his armour, the elaborate steel fringed with modest gold. She wondered if it was the steel or his bones that creaked when he moved.

  Gedravor remained more stone faced. The master of the scouts was clean shaven, but wore a cloak of forest green and browns, his head topped with a sharp beaked cap and a bow, as ever, over his shoulder. Other heads of knightly orders an
d commanders of the army surrounded the table or rested on camp stools across the tent.

  Only Androse showed pleasure at her arrival. Once, Androse had been the pride and joy of the empire, so much so that the old emperor had no choice but name him heir. When he was young he had been a vision of masculine prowess. Handsome and proud. An accomplished hunter and warrior who’d fought in tourneys and made friends easily among the brazen young knights. There was still evidence of that past in his heavy arms and proud mien, but his prime had passed long ago. Muscle had given way to fat, his stomach bulging against the imperial bed robe he wore, stitched with symbols of the crowns the empire had claimed in its expansion. Jeweled rings were squeezed on thick fingers and around his neck dangled the massive ruby known as the Heart of the Empire, set in gold and ringed with bloodstones representing Istanov’s provinces.

  “After all, it is in his blood, my generals,” Fabia said, slowly crossing the floor and towards Androse’s elaborate chair. “He is the heir of those who subjugated kings and kingdoms. Who built the greatest empire in the world and fought back the monster menace. And so he shall again.”

  “My dear,” Androse grinned, grasping her hip and tugging her onto his lap. She smirked at him, wrapping her arms around his neck, grinding her soft bottom against the hardening bulge in his pants.

  “He is the emperor,” she breathed, stroking Androse’s fat face. “And he deserves our undivided attention and… loyalty…”

  “The war room is no place for a concubine,” Grandmaster Jackdaw said in his chill tone.

  Fabia glanced, frowning at the grim leader of the raven knights. Black cloak, black leather, black hair, the only splash of colour was the silver of his steel buckles and straps that dotted his armor. A long, grave face, even his eyes were so dark a blue they seemed black. Fabia shivered a little under the man’s indifferent stare.

  “But this is also my bedroom,” Androse said, gesturing imperiously to the awning and hangings. A room as richly appointed as any in the grand palace in Moskov. Even wooden dressers and a massive four postered bed had been brought, placed on a woven rug that hid the hard ground. Androse grinned. “And if anything, exactly where a concubine belongs. Now, as for my generals and commanders…”

  Jackdaw shrugged and rose abruptly. “Then farewell.”

  “Jackdaw,” Fabia said sharply. “Your Emperor has not dismissed you.”

  “You will show the grandmaster of the Raven Knights more respect,” Claudus said sharply to her.

  Fabia tossed her hair contemptuously, her eyes flashing as she hung off the emperor wantonly.

  “But she is right,” Androse mused, stroking his clipped beard. “I did not dismiss you, Jackdaw.”

  Jackdaw stared at the emperor impassively. Seeing he wasn’t going to get more of a reaction Androse deepened his frown. “Very well. You’re all dismissed. Get out.”

  “My Emperor,” Gedravor said. “We still needed to discuss-“

  “You are dismissed! All of you, out! I’m tired of having to explain myself to the lot of you.”

  Stiffly, the men at the table stood and filed out. Fabia watched them through lidded eyes, smirking while her hands lazily moved across her lover’s chest. Soon enough they were alone and Androse eased back in his throne with a sigh.

  “Idiots, all of them.”

  “It’s why they needed you here, my love,” Fabia purred, twining herself further around the emperor’s bulk, her soft breasts mashing against his chest. “They need your wisdom to command them. Otherwise? Oh they would be lost. The whole empire would be lost.”

  “Of course they would be,” Androse scoffed. His hand grasped her ass, squeezing hungrily. “They lack vision, Fabia. They lack courage! Can you believe it? Wait for the rest of the army? While this… this self-proclaimed Duke rampages across my lands? Idiocy!”

  “They are lucky to have a man of such vision,” Fabia breathed, tilting back her head.

  “Indeed,” Androse said, his eyes flashing as he looked down at her face. “As are you.”

  Fabia accepted his brutal kiss submissively. She knew what he wanted, and better still, knew how to play to his desires. She was an expert in it, after all. Three years of being the emperor’s latest concubine did not leave much room for error, and she had no intention of losing her place now.

  She moaned as he palmed her ass and grabbed her breast. Gasped as he pulled aside her filmy gown, baring a soft breast. Androse chuckled, pulling back from the kiss. “Gods you are a beauty,” he said, groping her generous teat.

  “Mmm,” she breathed, reaching down between them and opening his pants, her fingers twining around his hardening cock and stroking him. “Only the loveliest would be worthy of you, my Emperor.”

  “Naturally. On the bed, slut. Let’s see you in all your glory.”

  She smiled lazily as she unwound herself from his grasp. Rising, she swayed over to the bed, sensuously rolling her shoulders, shrugging down her top. Her shapely hips rocked, letting the bottom half of her gown slough away like a cocoon, revealing her pale curves in all their glory.

  Words and gestures, that was all. She felt nothing really as she delicately crawled onto the bed, her ass swaying tantalizingly towards him. She had about as much interest in breakfast as she did fucking the great braggart of an emperor. But she was good at what she did. Gods knew she had ample practice. She knew how to entice him. To tempt him. And she had to admit, there was a certain thrill to her disgust with the man, and still letting him have his way with her.

  She lay back among the pillows, parting her legs, reaching down and stroking her hot gash. She met his eyes, watching as he stroked himself while admiring her display. “Mmm. My Emperor,” she breathed hotly, her eyes burning with naked desire. “Please. I need you.”

  Androse grinned. He rose, crossing the floor, his necklaces jangling with the pure chimes of richest gold. He climbed onto the bed, towering over her as he admired her form. “Did you see the eyes of them when you came in?” he asked, grasping her breast and squeezing painfully. “They wanted you so badly…”

  She hid her wince with practiced ease as he brutally groped her. “Mmm,” she moaned instead, arching her neck and baring her throat. “They envy you, my Emperor. Your strength. Your majesty. They wish they had the power to claim me. To steal me from your hands.”

  Androse laughed. “Fools! You couldn’t go to them if you tried.”

  “Oh no my lord,” she moaned, rubbing her cunt against his bulge wantonly. “Even if I did I could never forget the feeling of your cock within me. How you conquered me and claimed me for your own. Oh my Emperor, they would be so pathetic compared to you.”

  “Of course! Now let’s remind you of that.”

  Androse pushed forward, filling her aching quim with his cock. Fabia moaned as expected, throwing her head back, thrusting out her chest and pumping her hips against his cock. “Yessss! Oh my Emperor! Fuck me! Fill me!”

  Androse laughed as he began to thrust, his large stomach slapping her own taut tummy with every heave of his hips. His gold and bloodstone necklace chimed as it swayed, his rings digging in to her hips as he tightened his hold on her. “That’s a good slut! Take it! Take your master’s cock!”

  “Ohhh yessss!” Fabia cried out. “Master! Yes! Fuck meeeee!”

  Her cry rang out through the tent as she took the emperor’s cock, her pants and moans ringing up to the rafters of the tent, punctuated with the slap of flesh on flesh. And, if perhaps her cries of ecstasy were a little exaggerated, Androse was far from the sort to notice.

  Soon enough Androse was breathing heavily, gusting like bellows as his fat stomach swayed. His face screwed up, teeth grit. She could feel his orgasm approaching, well aware of his expression of ecstasy foretold. She put in a bit more effort into her gasps. “Oh yes. Yes my Emperor! Yes! Fill me with your cum!”

  “Right… noooow!” Androse roared as he came, his seed pumping into her cunt.

  “Oh yes. Yes my Emperor! Yesssss!” Fa
bia mimed a climax, squeezing him with her thighs and arching her back with affected orgasm.

  Androse panted, collapsing atop her, driving the breath from her lungs as he recovered, his sweaty face buried between her breasts. Fabia hid her sigh while she waited for him to recover, counting the squares stitched in the canopy. She was up to forty three before Androse stirred, groaning and lifting his head, grinning broadly. “Well,” he gasped. “Did you enjoy that, my dear?”

  Fabia pulled her lips into a smile and stroked his chest. “Oh yes my Emperor. How could I not with such a powerful, virile man to fuck me? Oh my liege, you’re as potent as you were when you were young.”

  Androse laughed breathlessly, lifting himself off her, much to her relief. “Of course I am. Why, did you know? I took my first lover that fine night during the Tournament of Roses when I had won? I tell you my dear, nothing was more satisfying than a good fuck after that triumph!”

  “Oh I only wish I could have known you then,” Fabia breathed.

  Androse’s brows knit. “What do you mean by that?” he growled.

  Sensing his sudden swing in moods Fabia came back to herself and hastily smiles, stroking his chest. “Only that… I wish I had been graced with your affection after that triumph, my liege. Oh, to be the one graced with your cock, your hands still reddened with the blood of your enemies that day you became immortalized. Oh how it would have been magnificent!”

  Androse smirked, preening. “Hmm. True. You would have made a fine fuck. But don’t worry, Fabia. You’ll have your chance yet. When I crush this Duke of Ashes, I’ll take you like you deserve to be.”

  “Oh master!” Fabia gasped, arching beneath him. “Do you swear?”

  “Oh yes!” Androse growled, pulling himself atop her once more. “Now, let’s give you another taste.”

  Fabia smiled as she began to move beneath him again.

  The Mirror

  Fabia sighed as she ducked back into her tent, shrugging off her gown once more and standing again before the full length mirror. She grimaced at the marks on her thighs and arms. Red weals from where Androse had gripped her in his eagerness and pleasure. She touched her quim with a grimace, still full of his seed. “Gods,” she muttered in disgust. “What a fool.”