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

  Princess to Pleasure Slave Collection

  Forbidden Book of Monstrous Pleasure

  By Amanda Clover

  @amandasmut

  This book and all its contents are copyright 2017 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.

  Foreword

  I began writing the Princess to Pleasure Slave books in 2013, but I cannot pretend to have come up with the idea to have beautiful maidens cavorting with monsters. Beauty and the Beast was written by a woman in the 17th Century and has been adapted many times. Numerous pieces of romantic fiction and erotica involve the idea of ugly or even monstrous humans and creatures romancing or ravishing women. There is even a word for being attracted to monsters, teratophilia, although I do not consider myself attracted to monsters in the normal sense. It’s a fantasy!

  The idea of being taken or ravished or, if you prefer things rougher, raped by a monster can be an exciting fantasy. It is dangerous, it verges on the taboo, and it permits the idea of hyper-masculinity without necessarily endorsing human masculine ideals. How strange or dark you like your erotica might determine what sort of monster you would prefer in your fantasy.

  I began the series by writing about goblins. They are simple and well-known monsters and I enjoyed the idea of these small, weak creatures overpowering an innocent princess. As so often happens in romantic fiction, she came to enjoy the attentions of her captors and yielded to pleasures she never imagined before encountering these savage creatures. But it isn’t all goblins and orcs in this collection. There are huge creatures like dragons, strange creatures like slimes and sea monsters, and numerous monsters that vary from the nearly human, to the nearly bestial, to the mind-bendingly horrifying.

  The Forbidden Book of Monstrous Pleasures collects the first 21 Princess to Pleasure Slave stories for the first time. This does not include the interactive novel Princess to Pleasure Slave Adventure: The Dungeon of the Monster Breeder. A sequel to that book, Princess to Pleasure Slave Adventure 2: The Ilsand of the Monster Breeder, is currently in the works and will be released in 2017.

  There are tender romances and real love to be found in this collection, but for the most part this is down and dirty, dirty sex between beautiful human women and monsters. It is not for the faint of heart, but for everyone else, it is sure to make your thighs tremble, your cock stiffen, or your panties damp.

  Thank you to everyone who has kept this series going for so many installments. I hope I write another 21 for all of you.

  Hugs, kisses, and slimy licks,

  Amanda Clover

  2017

  Monstrous Villains

  This collection includes 21 tales of princesses and ravishing monsters. Some books contain more than one monstrous adversary or ally for the beautiful princess. In some tales protagonist triumphs over evil and in some she succumbs to desire. All of the stories take place in the same dark fantasy setting, but at different times and in different places. Read them straight through or skip to the monster that piques your interest.

  Book 1 - Goblins

  Book 2 - Sea Creatures

  Book 3 - Ravenous Slimes

  Book 4 - Minotaurs

  Book 5 - Filthy Wizards

  Book 6 - Lizardmen

  Book 7 - Bloodsuckers

  Book 8 - Orcs

  Book 9 - Shifters

  Book 10 - Chaos Demons

  Book 11 - Perverted Plants

  Book 12 - Hungry Dragons

  Book 13 - Zombies

  Book 14 - Orc Revenge

  Book 15 - Goblin Slavers

  Book 16 - Twisted Elves of the Underdeep

  Book 17 - The Frogmen

  Book 18 - Goblin Warg Riders

  Book 19 - Monster Summoner

  Book 20 - Orc Warlords

  Book 21 - Voracious Tentacle Beast

  Book 1 - Goblins

  The waters that stretched below the castle tower were lit red by the flames of the burning city. It looked to Princess Helena di Quista, poised on the balcony of her room, like a lake of fire. Her family's castle was overrun by the enemy armies. The city was being sacked. It was all over. She could leap from the balcony, which seemed likely to kill her, or face death, or worse, at the hands of the Kornasi barbarians. She could hear them smashing open the doors on the lower levels. The servants and her cousins were screaming. The last defenders were shouting.

  Princess Helena had lived a sheltered life. She had recently grown to womanhood and had expected to be married to a merchant prince as part of some deal, to live out a luxurious existence in a guild keep, providing heirs to a doting husband. Now she could see herself paraded through the conquered streets, dress torn from her slender shoulders, to be the slave wife of a Kornasi warlord. The thought of such a fate was too much for her to endure.

  The young princess took a deep breath and leapt from the tower and into the dark waters below the castle. The force of the fall knocked her unconscious, but fate spared her life. A bit of timber adrift in the lake caught beneath her floating arms and she was carried to the far shore of the lake.

  Helena awoke tangled in water grass. Her under things and dress were soaked and stuffed with sand. She had washed up on a sandy beach. Her family's castle and city billowed smoke in the distance, the fires still lighting the horizon as the sky turned to dawn. She shook from the cold. She shed her heavy dress, which seemed as if it might never dry, and was left barefoot and wearing nothing but her under things. The fabric was sheer and clinging to her so that her pink nipples and the golden hair between her thighs were visible.

  Such shameful things did not matter to Helena. She was smothered by the sense of her loss, but she knew her mother and father were not among the many dead. They were away, along with most of father's army, and when they returned they would surely crush the Kornasi barbarians. All she had to do was remain alive for a few days.

  Helena was cold, hungry, and afraid of being seen by Kornasi scouts. She was familiar with the country, though her tutors had not given her much opportunity to explore it. She knew of caves in the foothills of the Mittlepeaks that might give her shelter and a chance to build a fire. But those areas would be scouted by the Kornasi and the caves terrified her. Better, she thought, to take her chances in the wood called Arboras. She could see its ancient trees rising into the misty morning sky. Perhaps she might even find a woodsman or hunter loyal to her father.

  It took her most of the morning to reach Arboras. Stepping beneath the canopies of the thousand-year trees was like leaving the world of the living and entering a realm of myths and giants. She felt the security the darkness gave her from the Kornasi, but she was afraid of the mysteries the forest might hold.

  Tentatively, she explored her surroundings. She found some berries that made her stomach turn. She spied some game birds and built a snare she once saw in a book in the castle library. It didn't work. The birds took the berries without setting off the trap. She tried to build a fire, but the forest was damp and the stones did not strike sparks.

  Hungry, lonely, without a fire to keep warm, and with the sun beginning to set, Helena did the only thing she had left to do: she cried. She cried for all her servants, now captives of the Kornasi, and all her guards, now dead. She cried for her dog and horses. For the treasures of her family and the throne which the
Kornasi would steal and melt down as loot.

  She tried to quiet herself, but the emotion would not be stifled. Tears poured out of her blue eyes and down her pretty face. The same tears dropped from her chin across her comely breasts and her bare, thorn-pricked legs.

  The sound of Helena's crying carried into the darkness of Arboras. She held her face in her hands for a very long time before she managed to stop. She slept fitfully, awakening several times and imagining a figure in the dark of the forest. She awakened shivering with chill, her clothes dampened by dew. Her body ached from sleeping upon the hard earth. She checked her snares and nearly cried again when she saw that they were empty. She explored a bit more, chewing bark to quiet her growling stomach.

  She came upon a spring of clear water that was steaming in the morning chill. It was too laden with mineral to drink, but the heat was inviting. Helena checked the perimeter of the clear pool and began to undress.

  The Princess's skin was luxuriously smooth and pale as cream, with a smattering of freckles on her chest and on her cheeks. Her breasts, though small, were of a perfect shape and capped with two puffy, pink nipples that quickly hardened to pebbles in the morning chill. Her body was soft from an easy life, but she had not gone at all to fat like her cousin, Bronwyn. Helena's hips were slender and her bottom small and firm. Her mound was lightly covered in soft curls of golden hair.

  She stepped into the clear spring and let out a groan as the hot water enveloped her naked body. She settled into the water, up to her chin, and stretched out to allow the heat to sooth her body. She imagined she was in a hot-boiled bath and, despite the sulfurous smell of the spring, she imagined she could smell the floral oils used by her servants to perfume the water.

  She fantasized of her father's army crushing the Kornasi and restoring his throne. The city would be rebuilt. The barbarians would be hunted to their dooms and she would get to sleep in her bed again.

  "That would be nice," said Helena. She laughed at the sound of her own voice. It was so quiet, it seemed an interruption of the peaceful forest. The sun beginning to show through the morning mists filled her with a renewed hope.

  It only took a moment for that hope to be dashed.

  The creature that stepped out of the woods was scarcely more than four feet tall. Its green-tinted skin was stretched tightly over long, bony arms and a lean ribcage. It wore only a loincloth to cover its body. Its yellow eyes stared at Helena and its lips pulled back to bare rows of sharp teeth. It was the creature's knife-blade ears that gave away its species.

  "Goblin," moaned Helena. She knew of the species from tales and books. They were a stunted breed of humanoid long ago driven from the lands of humans. What goblins remained were vassals of the orcs, tolerated in orc villages only so long as they served their much larger cousins.

  Helena wanted to scream in terror. She tried her best to hide her naked body from the creature's sight. She lifted her knees and huddled against the edge of the pool. She was too afraid to speak again.

  The goblin crossed to her under things and lifted the mud-stained fabric to its long nose. Its nostrils flared as the goblin inhaled Helena's scent. It let out a soft groan of delight, as if the smell of Helena's sweat was pleasurable. It stuffed the delicate garments into a pouch at its hip and turned its attention to Helena as she cowered in the hot spring. It brandished a crude spear, thrusting the stone tip menacingly at the princess's face.

  It spoke a string of grunting gibberish and herded her with stabs of the spear until she was forced out of the pool. She stood before it, trying to hide her naked body as the cold returned to prickle her arms and legs. She shook with fear. The goblin spoke more gibberish and used the tip of its spear to pry her hands away from her breasts.

  "Alright," moaned Helena. "Alright. I know."

  She moved her hands away, exposing her breasts to the goblin. Her firm tits shook with her trembling. Her nipples were hard and pinched to aching from the cold. She stood with her slender thighs tightly pressed to protect her maiden's cove.

  "Don't hurt me, please," she moaned.

  The goblin stuck his spear into the mud beside the hot spring and drew out a stone dagger from his belt. Helena stifled a cry at the sight of the blade. It was savage, like the little goblin. He came towards her and she cringed away. He took hold of her hair and held the blade up so she could see it. He made a threatening motion.

  "I understand," she cried. "I will do whatever you say. I will...I will do what you want."

  There was a certain relief in those words. She had spent a lifetime being afraid of intimacy. She had been trained in some techniques to please a husband on her wedding night, but always by women. There were some private moments, fumbling, with servant girls in the bath or in the dressing chamber. Kisses and furtive touches, forbidden by temple law, but understood to be healthy by most sensible folks. These few experiences did nothing to help her courage when faced with the dagger-wielding goblin.

  Most frightening of all to Helena, as the goblin circled her and examined her body, was that she could not deny the growing heat between her clenched thighs. She could not pretend that her shuddering body was only shaking from the fear or the cold, but also the anticipation of another's touch, even if it was a savage like the goblin.

  Judging by the way the goblin rubbed at its loincloth with one hand the beastie approved of what he saw. It pulled the cloth aside and exposed the pale green and pink of its root. Helena did not have much to compare it to. There were drawings of a man in her tutoring on pleasuring a husband and there were the kennels and stables where the beasts had no shame.

  The goblin's cock was hairless, with a sheath like a dog and a rude, swollen member that emerged flush with engorging blood. Its little bollocks were more like miniatures of a man's than either horse or dog. It held the shaft of its cock and stroked it with its bony fingers producing droplets of clear liquid that dripped from the slit in the tip of the red erection.

  Helena could not look away from this lewd appendage. Her heart quickened. Her lust became undeniable. She had lost everything, what did she care about the shame of expressing her desires? The goblin stood expectantly and pointed the tip of the dagger from Helena to the straining red of its cock. The gesture was a command and she understood it on a primal level.

  The princess, prim and proper, trained in etiquette and accustomed to a life of pampering, knew there was a choice to be made. She could resist her urges, like a storm of perversion within her, and do only what was forced upon her by this savage creature. Or she could give in to this storm of sexuality and allow it to wash over her. To allow her own desires, her own curiosity and urges, to guide her actions.

  It was not a difficult choice for the princess. She fell to her knees in the mud and crawled to the creature. It laughed at this, planting its feet far apart and thrusting the dripping redness of its cock in her direction. Helena remembered the texts and the verse spoken by the bedroom tutor. "To please a man there is the hand, to bring his lance to grips, a true delight upon that night, to hold it 'tween your lips."

  Helena was not yet ready to sacrifice her maidenhead to this beast, but she could please it. She crawled closer. The sharp, unwashed smell of the goblin was repulsive. She winced when she felt its rough hand caress her shoulder and back. He was speaking to her in his crude language. His voice had dropped to a murmur and, although she could not understand the words, the meaning of them was clearly lewd.

  The princess swallowed her fears and crawled to within inches of the goblin's straining prick. It stroked the redness of its cock and more liquid drooled out, falling like honey from the tip. She reached out a tentative hand to touch the goblin. It was too slow for the beast's liking.

  "Gormu!" urged the goblin. "Gormu ooma dobo!"

  "Yes," said the princess. "Yes, alright...I..."

  The goblin shoved her hard enough to knock her into the mud. The warm, slick mud coated her breasts and chin. It covered the hand she used to lift herself out.
<
br />   "Gormu!" the goblin repeated, wagging it dripping cock in her face.

  Princess Helena di Quista, first daughter of the King, current heir to a stolen throne, reached out her soft hand and took hold of the hot flesh of the goblin's cock. She touched it lightly at first, but her ardor grew and she wrapped her fingers more firmly around the goblin's root. The skin of its sheath was flexible and she rubbed it up and back down again.

  "Gormu omo!" snapped the goblin.

  Helena felt the warring heat of shame and lust flush her face. The mud coated her breasts like paint and her nipples strained in the cold. She found warmth against the goblin's thin legs. She stroked it more intently, moving her face closer and inhaling the scent of its loins. It was a distinct musk apart from its general animal stink.

  The liquid that dripped from the goblin's cock slicked her hand and her stroking took on a lewd sound. She remembered the verse of her tutor again. The thought of putting the goblin's rude appendage into her mouth soured her stomach and yet, though the goblin's cock strained in her grasp, the beast seemed unsatisfied with what she was doing.

  "Gormu! Gormu!" The goblin whined, sounding exasperated. The defeated princess looked up at the creature, up its flat belly and battle-scarred chest, her blue eyes undimmed by her predicament. She wet her lips, parted them, and leaned her mouth down to take the goblin's rancid cock against her tongue. She immediately tasted the saltiness and sourness of the liquid. It was slick against her tongue. She fought back revulsion and embraced her lust.

  She closed her eyes and closed her mouth around the goblin's hot cockmeat. Her lips tightened and she began to suck. The tutor had demonstrated the technique on a caro fruit. She had wrapped her lips around the orange gourfruit and had slid them up and down. There had been tips about suction and flicking the tongue inside the mouth.

  Helena found that the academic nature of this lesson was easily put to use as instinct. She bobbed on the goblin's straining cock, taking it into her mouth until the seal of her soft lips rest against the base and the leaking head prodded against her throat. She sucked and her cheeks hollowed. Her lips popped with suction. Her spit soaked down the goblin's cock as she lifted her head and slid it back down again.