Downfall of the Empress Read online

  Princess to Pleasure Slave Chronicle

  Book Thirteen

  Downfall of the Empress

  By Amanda Clover and Jay Aury

  @amandasmut

  Cover artwork by Deilan12

  This book and all its contents are copyright 2019 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.

  A Healing Touch

  Damera Istanova felt every bump of the wagon. She winced again, her armour rattling where it was piled in the corner. Not even the bedding which cushioned her could quite defeat the seemingly endless rattling of the cart on the old road. Little surprise. At this point in Istanov, every road coming and going had been worn to the ruts by the flight of refugees and the march of armies. With no one to maintain them, the highways had fallen to pieces, as had every village her beleaguered army had passed, empty but for echoes and the ghosts of the past.

  Pain again lanced through the busty empress’s side. The sensation stabbed through her addled mind. The fever had set in a day ago. Or was it more? She couldn’t tell. The world seemed to bleed and swirl around her like it were a painting smeared by uncaring hand. Her body burned, focused in that abominable wound in her side. Closed, yet still it pulsed with an ill green glow.

  “Easy, my empress,” the priestess said. A modest young woman with gentle blonde hair and soulful eyes, her body hidden behind a virgin white robe marked with the holy symbol of Lasha.

  “Thirsty,” Damera gasped.

  A cup met her lips and eagerly she drank, the cool water soothing her sore throat. She closed her eyes in blessed relief. She sighed, laying back, her generous breasts heaving, her shirt stained with sweat so it adhered to her curves and the taut, firm form of her figure. She was no plump lady in waiting. Even before the war with the Duke of Ashes the empress had been a warrior born and bred, her hobbies all having a martial bend that had kept her fit and trim.

  “There,” the priestess soothed, her hands glowing as she resumed her work on the empress’s injured side. “That’s it. Just relax.”

  Damera laughed bitterly. “Oh, relax!” she said. “Relax! Of course. Shall I do that while… while the monsters slaughter my troops? Oh! Or… or perhaps when all my allies abandon me to face this horror on my own. Relax! Hahaha!” Her laughter rose, shrill with hysterics that turned quickly to sobs. She threw an arm over her eyes. “Oh gods. It’s all going wrong. It’s all gone wrong. We’re going to die, priestess. Do you know that? Oh, not you and I. We’ll live. Live on as the breeding sows of monsters! And why? Because my brother… my brother was a fool. The Red Mages are traitors. And Heimsvak… Heimsvak hates us.

  “Am I to blame?” she asked vaguely. “Could someone else have done better? Gods I hope so. Gods I hope I deserve all of this. Whatever happens to me.”

  “No,” the priestess said, her voice tender and kind. “You don’t deserve any of what has happened to you, Damera. None of what has come to your land is your fault.”

  Damera snorted. “You seem sure.”

  “The gods always are.”

  Golden light shone against her. Startled, Damera uncovered her eyes, and gaped.

  The white robe was gone, melting away like ice in summer’s glow. The priestess was floating as if the golden light she emitted buoyed her. Flawless pale breasts were revealed, her hair a tumble of golden curls hovering about her face. Her eyes shone white with purity. Before Damera’s eyes wings of light manifested, assembling themselves like pieces of a puzzle growing from the priestesses back.

  “Gods,” Damera breathed.

  “One,” the angel said, touching Damera’s wound. “Kind Lasha, who has bid me come to you, and bless she who has fought for goodness against the predation of greatest horrors. Be at ease, Damera. Be at ease, and be healed as much as I can.”

  Damera gasped, arching as warmth blossomed through her. The fever washed away with a wave of cleansing magic, the pain in her side banished in a flash of molten joy. Her body felt warm. Light. Tingling with electric sensitivity as she gazed up at the heavenly woman beside her.

  “Who…”

  “I am Tiana. Servant of blessed Lasha. She has sent me to deliver unto you a message, Damera Istanova. That you are not abandoned. That Lasha loves you, and she sends her servant to aid you in this time of great need.”

  Damera gasped as gentle fingers stroked her cunny, sliding along the divot in her panties. She moaned as the fabric was eased down, baring her flushing pussy. As the angel’s lips lowered onto hers. “She loves you, Damera, and this servant does too.”

  Damera moaned as those sweet lips met hers. As a gentle hand cupped her breast, massaged that firm, luscious orb. Her hips rose as the other hand continued to stroke her. Ease. Warmth. Peace spreading through her with every touch of the heavenly creature with her.

  “G-gods. This… this is…”

  “Lasha is a goddess of healing, Damera,” Tiana said, her voice filled with a warmth that filled the panting empress with ease. “Of life. She does not deny pleasure. It exists, and those who worship Lasha know it is merely another means of knowing her blessing.”

  “Ohhh,” Damera sighed softly, whimpering, tears staining her cheeks with pleasure and uncertainty. It had been so long since she’d known such a loving stroke. Such infinite tenderness. She felt herself rocked in soothing pleasure as that wonderful finger continued to stroke her. Those soft lips continued to kiss her. And that loving hand continued to massage her breasts.

  “Be at ease, Damera,” the angel murmured. “Rest. A moment of calm in a sea of turmoil and suffering. You have earned this, and so much more.”

  Damera panted. “I… I don’t kn-know if I c-can.”

  “I will help you,” Tiana said, and again kissed her.

  Softness enveloped the empress. No longer did she feel the bumping of the wagon. The chill of the air or the heat of her fever. Only blessed warmth. Blessed softness. Her lashes fluttered. A soft cry, tender and weak, escaped her lips as her body tensed with the height of her orgasm. It washed through her in a surge, taking away the strain of the war. Of the days of the battlefield and her injuries suffered. Of the pain and sinful heat that oozed from her wounded side.

  “Rest,” the angel said again, kissing her cheek. “Rest, sweet empress. And know peace, for a little while at least.”

  Her eyes felt heavy. Damera tried to fight it. Tried to seize even a few moments more of the sight of the angel above her, wings g
lowing with tender light, eyes full of tenderness and kindness. She reached up and touched the angel’s cheek with a shaking hand.

  “Th-thank… you…”

  Tiana’s smile answered her, and it was the last thing Damera saw before falling deep into a dreamless sleep.

  Loyalties

  “Grovel before your emperor!”

  The young maid – her name didn’t particularly matter to Androse – lowered her face to the floor, her naked curves shaking with fear. And oh, how that filled him with delight. Androse sat in his royal chambers within Moskov’s palace, the curtains drawn against the gloomy skies. Lamps burned, illuminating the gaudy tapestries depicting his victories, statues carved commemorating his glory. The fortune of the empire was gathered around him, dragged from the vaults. Gold and jewels gleamed around his throne, piled haphazardly in a sea of treasures. Rings bejewelled his fingers and his royal robe hung heavily on his broad shoulders. The fabric had grown strained around his ever-expanding gut, and the rings now pinched his thickened fingers, but he ignored all that. All his attention was on the quivering maidservant.

  She was a pretty one. All of them were. Smirking, he pushed out his foot. “You may kiss your emperor now, whore.”

  Trembling, the girl took his foot in hand and kissed it. She glanced up from between her red bangs, and seeing his look of satisfaction quickly kissed his toes again, gently sucking on them as if her life depended on it. Which it did.

  Androse smirked, drawing his cock out of his pants. He began to stroke himself as the young woman sucked at his toes. Her hair reminded him starkly of his sister’s, which amused him even more. The stupid whore. If she had just kneeled likes this before him, he would have granted her mercy. But since she had been stupid enough to defy him, he’d been forced to dismiss Damera’s calls for aid. It was her own fault, really. He groaned as the maid sucked on his toe, his hand moving faster.

  A knock thundered through the chambers. “What!” Androse snarled.

  “My lord,” his chamberlain’s voice said, muffled by the door. “Ulamon Kade of Heimsvak has arrived.”

  “What?” he snapped, kicking the maid off his foot, ignoring her cry as she fell to the floor. “What the hell does he want?”

  “You agreed to meet with him, my emperor.”

  “Fuck,” Androse muttered. Had he? Probably. His chamberlain was punctual to a fault, and if he said Androse had agreed to something he probably had. Not that Androse would think twice about cancelling. Fucking Heimsvakers. Thought they were so great because they took Cleavegrad from his father. He ignored the moan of pain from the maid and rubbed his chin thoughtfully, then grinned. “Alright. Show him in. You,” he said, directing his attention back to the maid. “Slut. Get up here. Time to give your master’s cock the attention it deserves.”

  Knowing what awaited her if she failed, the curvy maid crawled back to her feet and kneeled between his legs. Androse grunted as her soft lips engulfed his cock, sliding up and down with dutiful eagerness. Androse settling back in his throne, smirking in delight as the doors swung open and the diplomat from Heimsvak entered.

  Kade was a tall, thin man, his long hair oiled back, his nose pointed like a beak. His official suit and cloak were immaculate, which made the emperor annoyed at once, reminding him of his unwashed robe. Androse curled a lip as the diplomat swept back his cloak in a long bow, not even mentioning the naked woman sucking the emperor’s cock. Prissy fucker.

  “Greeting Androse Istanova, emperor of the realms of Istanov. Such a pleasure to meet you once again.”

  “Hmph! So you say,” Androse grumbled, resting his hand on the maid’s head, encouraging her in her eager sucking. “Well, whatever. What brings you to my empire, Kade? Has Heimsvak come to offer their princess as my new bride?”

  “Not quite,” Kade said, his smile as oily as his hair. He pressed the tips of his fingers together. “It has come to the kingdom’s attention that your sister is in a bit of a spot.”

  That got his attention. “Oh?” Androse breathed, his cock twitching under the tongue of his servant. “And what… mnn… might that be?”

  “Indeed, your majesty. It appears that her army was routed and is in retreat to Kirinovo. My king has bidden me ask you to hurry and marshal your forces. You must march to her aid. Between her army and yours, she still has a chance to save Istanov from the Duke of Ashes.”

  Androse threw back his head and roared with laughter. He shoved the maid’s head down on his cock, his laughter hitching as he came, pumping his seed into the woman’s mouth, delighting as she choked and gagged as she tried to swallow him.

  “Has she! Oh, my good man! That’s the finest news I’ve heard all year! Ha ha ha! The stupid slut! I knew she’d fail. That’s what she gets for trying to steal my empire from me!”

  “Arguably, it is the Duke who stands the best chance of that,” Kade observed.

  In an instant Androse’s mood soured. He surged to his feet, shoving the maid off his cock, sending her to the floor where she gasped and whimpered. “The Duke is a coward! He hadn’t the balls to face me in battle himself! He’ll never reach Moskov! Never, do you hear! And if he tries, I’ll crush him beneath the walls! I have the home guard. The Red Mages! I have no need to go out and face him! Let my whore of a sister die. You lot should be the ones rushing to her aid! Don’t think I don’t know what your king has been up to. Trying to seduce my slut of a sister. Fucking her to breed our line out. You all want Istanov! Well you can forget it!

  “Let that bitch die!” Androse howled, raising his fists into the air, foam flecking the corner of his mouth. “Let the Duke kill her! I’ll never give up the throne, do you hear me? Never! Never! It’s mine! I was the champion of the Rose when I was but a boy! I’m the one who is the rightful ruler of Istanov! And soon, soon all of you will know my true power. A power that will make the Duke of Ashes and Heimsvak kneel before me! You tell your king this. Tell him that Androse is still emperor of Istanov!

  “Get out!” he snarled, jabbing a finger at the door. “Out of my hall! Out of my castle! I am emperor here! I can skin you and hang your mangy hide from my flag pole if I wanted to! Who would stop me? Nobody! Get out!”

  Kade bowed once more. “Of course, your majesty,” he said smoothly. “As you wish.”

  Turning, the diplomat swept back down the hall, smoothing back his oiled hair once more. Behind him, he heard the maid give a cry of pain and the wet smack of flesh on flesh. He didn’t stop smiling even once the guards shut the heavy doors behind him with a resounding boom.

  Kade sighed and stroked his long chin as he walked down the ever-warm corridors. Well, that had gone about as well as he’d expected. A pity, but he wasn’t entirely sure just what his king had been hoping for. Small surprise, really. Everyone knew the two heirs of Istanov hated one another, and Androse’s failures and his sister’s successes would only deepen that divide.

  Androse’s raging about his power amused the diplomat more than a little. He had seen just what the emperor’s kingdom was. Refugees crowded around the city’s walls in a ramshackle town thrown up when they were denied access to the city proper. Food was brought in under armed guards lest the starving people seize it, and even then that wasn’t enough. The nobles fretted from behind the walls and the soldiers clung to their spears, wishing to leave but knowing they had nowhere to go. And rising from this sea of misery was the palace. Istanov’s imperial family had excellent practice insulating themselves from the misery around them, and Androse was putting that skill to good use. When push came to shove, Kade had little doubt the city would collapse like a house of cards.

  Though it would be a pity. The corridors of the palace were warmed with an eternal spring. Now and then he passed balconies overlooking blooming gardens where the noble sons and daughters of the empire once frolicked in peace. Empty now, but the blooming flowers and rustling trees were still a delight to behold.

  “Ah well,” Kade mused, crossing his arms behind his back and smiling.
It didn’t bother him. Let Istanov burn. It would make his job easier having the aggressive empire dealt with once and for all. With any luck, the self-declared duke and the pompous emperor might snuff one another out. At last Heimsvak might know some semblance of peace.

  He slowed as he saw another figure making their way down the passage. Red robes writ with strange designs stirred around the slender figure. A white mask and hood stitched with golden thread hid a face in shadow but for a pair of burning eyes. Though he hid it well, even Kade felt a shudder of fear and revulsion for the Red Mage of the empire.

  And yet, the diplomat couldn’t help but cut a quick bow. “Magister Wroth,” he said smoothly. “A pleasure to see you.”

  Ulamon Kade.

  The voice slithered through his thoughts like a serpent. A chill raced down Kade’s spine. How he hated the way the high echelons of the Red Mages spoke. Not with words, but with sibilant whispers that slid through the mind like silver blades. “Are you heading to speak to the emperor? I fear I didn’t leave him in a good mood for you.”

  Wroth tilted his head. The mood of the emperor is of no concern to us.

  “Of course not. Though I must say I am surprised that you returned to serve him. I would have thought that the empress was more to your kind’s style.”

  The empress had nothing more to offer to us.

  “And Androse does?” Kade said, feigning surprise.

  The diplomat regretted his words almost at once as those glowing eyes sliced into him. Despite himself, he swallowed the lump in his throat.

  Istanov serves our purposes well enough. Have no fear. The empress cannot stop the Duke of Ashes.

  “But Androse can? Somehow, I doubt that, sir,” Kade said, regaining his jocular politeness.

  Magic has many uses, Ulamon.

  Kade shivered. Androse’s ravings again occurred to him. His shouts that Heimsvak and the Duke would know his power. His wrath. Kade’s brow knit, his lips tightened. “What do you mean by that, magister?”