Princess to Pleasure Slave Chronicle
Book Ten
Ecstasy of the Lore Hunter
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.
The Old Inn
Greta Dalia’s footsteps were the only sound in the village.
The young brunette peered about, frowning uneasily. The quiet was overwhelming, the sky growing dim as evening spread its shadows across the world. Houses opened up onto the cobblestone road, none with doors, and few with windows. Rusty red stains were splashed here and there, faded by weather. If there had been bodies, scavengers had dealt with them.
Greta licked her lips uneasily and shouldered her pack into a more comfortable position. She was used to the weight of it by now. This had hardly been the first expedition she’d been on. And it did counteract the weight of her breasts a bit. Her large chest pushed against the straps of the pack and the laces of her modest jacket. A short riding skirt flared around her hips and covered her pert bottom, and long leggings masked her shapely thighs and long, strong legs. But though she had made many journeys across the land of Istanov, this was the first she’d done all alone.
Usually she’d have some baggage trains, a few guards and a number of assistants. But it was a different world since she’d wandered over the hills of the ancient Mines of Tauven Mur, locating an ancient relic of the empire that ruled before Istanov. She’d even been awarded a medal from her cousin, the current empress. Recalling that moment sent a shiver of delight down her spine.
But she was alone now. Even if she’d been able to convince anyone to come out with her into the monster infested west of Istanov, she didn’t trust them. All alone, in a land filled with beasts and creatures of nightmare. Even after her glorious empress had crushed the monster horde at the battle of the Skull Keep the lands were still far from safe. Remnant forces and lone monsters preyed upon unwary travelers. What few humans had survived the monster’s advance would be even worse than the creatures which lurked among the forests and hills.
A sound at the edge of hearing made her freeze. She turned sharply, her eyes roaming across the ruins. “Who’s there!?” she called, then winced as her voice echoed back to her among the empty homes. Oh, brilliant Greta. Yes. Call out. Let’s just let everything know you’re here. She stood, tensely listening. But the sound did not repeat.
Still, it had put a lump of fear in her throat. Her journey had been fairly uneventful thus far, but she had to remember the Duke of Ashes was still alive, and this village was definitely dead. Best not to linger too long in case any of what had done this bloody deed still occupied the town.
But she’d have to spend the night, that much was clear. She had no intention of sleeping outside in Istanov’s forests more than she had to. Her shoes clicked on the road as she hurried along, quicker now as the shadows grew long, reaching for her as she wandered among the town. At last she found an inn, or what was left of it. Pushing inside revealed a common room filled with broken furniture and the stink of spilled ale. She peered about warily at the interior as she stepped inside, conjuring a simple glow orb to hover at her shoulder, illuminating the interior in a pale light.
She made her way slowly through the inn, checking the basement where every barrel had been smashed, and the rooms where each bed had been torn apart, and some stained with fluids. She shuddered again. Everyone in Istanov now knew just what the monsters did with their women captives. Merely seeding their wombs cursed the poor girls, rendering them little more than eager breeding slaves to the creatures who had impregnated them. Some stories told of the girls being rescued, only to turn on their rescuer, kill them and eagerly throw themselves back into the arms of their monstrous lovers like some sort of deranged reversal of a fairy tale.
Well, she had no intention of that being her fate. Returning to the common room, Greta lit a simple fire in the old heart, feeding with broken furniture until a warm glow illuminated the large room and beat back the chill. Night had fallen beyond the windows, but Greta didn’t feel like sleeping quite yet. She shrugged out of her heavy travelling clothes, stretching in her soft undergarments, flesh golden in the warm light of the crackling flames. She fetched an unbroken bottle of wine from behind the bar and sat down on the floor, groaning in relief as she took off her pack, and from its depths pulled out a tattered, stained map.
Unrolling it revealed a land starkly different from the one she had travelled through for the last week, and yet, familiar too. Greta bit her lower lip in concentration as she scrutinized the ancient map, a relic of a time long past, when Istanov wasn’t even an idea. A memory of a world long gone lay before her.
But not quite forgotten.
Engrossed in the map, she barely heard the faint rattling sound. Her head snapped up, her eyes wide as they roamed over the old inn. The building settling? Could be. Only…
Greta slowly stood, peering into the darkness which shrouded the interior of the inn. “Hello?” she called warily. “Someone there?”
Again, the sound repeated, and she moved towards the source. The window had survived largely intact whatever fate had befallen the town, and through it now she peered.
Something was moving down the street.
Greta sucked in a breath, freezing in shock. Small, only coming up to her waist, the skulking figure had a disproportionately large head and ragged, flopping ears. A lanky body was garbed in only a tattered loin cloth, and in his hand he dragged along a crude club, the source of the clacking sound she’d heard as he dragged it over the uneven cobblestones.
Greta drew back from the window. A gertling. One of the lesser monsters, but no doubt sporting the same curse as all monsters of the Duke of Ashes. The curse of breeding. She cursed herself. She’d gotten careless. Weeks without encountering another soul had dulled her caution. She reached for her knife, and then recalled she was in nothing but her lacy bra and panties.
Only then did realization strike her. She turned back towards the fire and the entirety of her predicament hit her as the rattling of the gertling’s club drew nearer the door. She hadn’t time! Her eyes flashed about, spying a closet. Without a thought she scampered within and shut the door behind her.
A hole where the handle once was let in a beam of light. Crouching down, Greta
peered through and back into the common room, just in time for the door to open and the gertling enter. The stunted monster paused, peering about with his large eyes. His hooked nose sniffed the air carefully like a hound.
Greta watched, heart pounding as the stunted creature slowly prowled inside, peering about carefully. He made straight for the still flickering flame, and her cast off clothes.
…Shit. Which meant hiding wouldn’t do her much good. The creature would know she was in the inn. Idiot! She nearly slammed her head against the door in frustration before recalling how much worse that would make the situation. Drat! What were the words to that stun spell? She squinted as she tried to comb through the cobwebs of her mind, searching for the right pronunciation. It had to be perfect or the spell was liable to bounce back and paralyze her. And oh, what a perfect capper to the evening that would be.
The gertling stared at her cast-off clothes carefully. It kneeled down and picked up her pants, turning them over. She caught her breath, her concentration slipping away in a humiliated flush as the gertling brought her pants to its hooked nose and inhaled heavily. The gertling let out a ragged moan and sniffed again her dirty pants, then finally took them away and deposited them.
But then he saw the map.
Greta’s heart jumped into her throat as the stunted monster crept over to the map and crouched down. He cocked his head and picked it up, peering at it. The gertling pursed his lips without understanding, then turned towards the falling fire. He held it out.
“No!” Greta gasped from the closet.
The gertling snapped about in her direction. Greta slapped her hand over her mouth. Oh damn it!
The gertling abandoned the map, which was some comfort, but followed it up by charging at her hiding spot, which was less encouraging. She shrank back as the tiny monster threw open the door and beheld the shapely brunette within, still clad in only her underclothes.
The gertling’s mouth widened in a grin, showing a row of sharp teeth. “Nice wo-man,” the monster purred.
“S-stay back now,” Greta said, shrinking away from the monster. “I know magic!”
“Me know magic too. Magic cock!” the gertling cackled.
“You asked for it! Tessinaaaaah!” she squealed as the gertling suddenly grabbed her panties, yanking them down and revealing her shaved pink cunny. Without thinking she bent forward to pull them back up, and for her trouble received a sharp spank that sent her to her knees with a squeal, scattering the spell she’d been focusing on.
Even as she planted her hands on the floor to push herself back up she felt the gertling behind her, his bony fingers grasping the soft, pale flesh of her ass. Her head snapped up in shock as she felt his hot breath on the seam of her ass. “W-ait! Stop! Don’t!”
“Me know slut wants Dinni’s cock,” the gertling cackled, the warty head of his stunted shaft pressing against the tight ring of her ass.
“No! No I doooooon’t!” Greta groaned as the gertling pushed forward, filling her ass with his tiny cock. She gasped at the strangeness of the sensation. The warty nubs all along his shaft stroking her tight inner walls in ways she’d never imagined she could be touched. She gasped, cried out again as the gertling fucked her bottom, without tenderness of caring, slamming his thin hips into her shapely rear with fleshy smacks as he frantically rutted her.
“Ohhhh noooooo!” Greta groaned as the gertling claimed her ass. Her mind fumbled for the words of the spell even as the gertling took his pleasure from her. She bit her lip to stifle the gasps that threatened to escape from her, clawing the floor as the gertling clung to her bottom.
“Oooohhhhhhnnnnn!” Dinni suddenly cried out, slamming his cock even more frantically into her ass as he suddenly came. Greta squealed in surprise as she felt his oily cum pump into her back passage, filling her in sharp bursts of his tiny prick. Even then the gertling didn’t stop, riding out his orgasm, his cock slimy and wet and his bony hips slapping her plush bottom.
Greta panted, kneeling there, her heavy breasts hanging low. With a groan the gertling drew his cock from her ass. “Mnnn. Good slut,” the gertling cooed, patting her ass. “Now, me take cove!”
Fear shot through Greta. She lurched upright, twisting around to face the gertling, the words of the spell flashing in her mind like a sudden inspiration. “Tessina surais!” she cried, pointing at the startled monster.
And oh it felt good to see the Dinni’s grin turn to a look of abject terror as cords of golden light suddenly wrapped around him, the gertling screaming like a stuck pig as he toppled, arms and legs wrenched back, bound to his sides in glowing bands of magic.
Greta pushed herself to her feet, wincing at the pain in her ass. Good thing the gertling’s cock had been so small. After all, she had a long journey still ahead, and the last thing she needed was the ache of a monster’s attempt to fuck her slowing her down. She turned to face the gertling, and the fear in its large eyes made her smile.
“Alright, listen up,” she said, planting her foot on the gertling’s bony chest, making the tiny monster wheeze as she leaned over it. “I warned you. I know magic. You chose the wrong woman to fuck with, monster.”
“Me soooorry,” the gertling whined.
“Oh are you?” she said, noticing how even now the monster’s eyes slipped down to her bared pink pussy. “Hmph! I bet. You didn’t regret it when you were fucking my ass, now did you?”
“Me sorry! Me couldn’t help! Wo-man just so lovely!”
“Oh shut up,” she said, though couldn’t hide a degree of satisfaction at the stunted creature’s words. “Now listen up, you little wretch. Dinni, was it? The only reason I haven’t turned you into a frog is because I have some questions. And you damn well better answer them. It’s the least you can do after stuffing that filthy thing up my arse.”
The gertling nodded his head so fast his ears flapped like bat wings. “Me answer. Me be good!”
“That’s the spirit.” Greta took her foot off her chest, walking back to her things, and put in a little extra swing in her hips, knowing the gertling was staring raptly at her curves. She snatched up the cast aside map and checked it again, breathing out in relief to see it undamaged. Getting the little gertling’s cock up her ass was a small price to pay to keep it safe. She returned to the monster, who stopped wriggling the instant she loomed over him like a vengeful goddess.
“See this?” she demanded, thrusting the map in Dinni’s face. She poked the shape of a mountain. “Do you know this? The mountain that looks like an old man’s face?”
Dinni stared at it. She caught a flicker of recognition in his eyes. “Beard Mountain!” the gertling said. “Me know!”
Excitement flared in her chest. She knew it was around here! “Where is it?” she demanded, shoving the map more firmly against his nose. “Come on now! Where?”
The gertling squirmed in discomfort. “Gertlings not go near. It cursed mountain! Bad things haunt.”
“Well that’s just too bad. Because in exchange for what you did to me, you’re going to lead me to it!”
“What!” the gertling squealed.
Greta was a little surprised at her own words, but once they were said, she found the idea appealing. After all, better to have a guide than wander blindly among the monster infested hills, searching for landmarks lost to time. “That’s right,” she said forcefully. “And to make sure you behave yourself…”
She hissed out a word that made the gertling’s shadow grow. The monster froze, his eyes darting side to side as his shadow slowly wrapped around his throat like choking hands, forming a collar dark as midnight. The gertling trembled in horror as he felt the dark magic at work, and not even when the shadow receded did he calm, for it left around his throat a band as dark as the fire was bright.
“There,” Greta said. “Now, any time I want, my spell will choke you. And if I die, it will strangle you completely. Understand?”
“Take off!” Dinni wailed. “Me not want!”
“Then yo
u shouldn’t have stuck that awful prick up my ass,” Greta said again, poking the gertling in his chest. “So tomorrow, you’re going to lead me to that mountain. But for tonight, you’re going to lie there, all tied up. Just so we’re clear who’s in charge. Right?”
The gertling nodded miserably, and Greta huffed, pleased with how things had turned out in the end. As she returned to the fire and began laying out her bed roll, she mused that all things considered, it hadn’t been a terrible evening. After all, she now had a guide, and all it cost her was a quick fuck up the ass by the creature’s tiny cock. Not the best trade, but she prided herself in being able to see the silver lining.
Which reminded her as she snuggled into the blankets before the fire. She’d have to wash out the creature’s cum in her ass. Tomorrow…
The Old Mountain
Greta looked from the map and back to the towering cliffs with a swelling of pride.
She knew it!
In the shadow of the bluffs, the weather beaten features of an old man could be seen growing out of the cliffs. A landslide had fairly buried the rest of the body, but the head still poked out of the barren rocks, revealing a beard that reached the chin and a circlet on his head.
Of course, she could tell because she knew what she was looking for. Ages of wind and rain had worn down the features of the noble figure until only suggestions of those features remained, but it was enough for her to recognize her quarry. And with the way it had been ravaged by years, she likely would have completely missed it were it not for her guide.
Dinni stood miserably a few feet from her, the goblin rubbing his throat and the shadowy band that wrapped about it.
“Alright,” Greta said, rolling up the map and tucking it back in her pack. “Let’s go.”
“Me not want to,” Dinni whined. “Mountain cursed! It cursed, me tell you!”
“Ah, I see. Alright, so here’s a question. Which would you prefer? The possibility of dying in there. Or…” she said, lifting her hand. “The certainty of dying right here.”
Ecstasy of the Lore Hunter Page 1
