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

by Amanda Clover

  "Tova ooma gormu," groaned the goblin. It reached its long arms to caress from the pale curve of Helena's back to the roundness of her ass. She moaned in surprise as the goblin's rough fingers brushed over her cheeks and across the cleft of her crack.

  "Mmmm," she moaned around the goblin's cock and lifted her ass. The goblin growled and slid its fingers down her crack, over her tender wrinkle and to the damp groove of her quim. Her moan became a gasp as it slid its finger along her virginal pussy. It could not reach to the bud of her clit, but the contact with her slit was nearly enough to make her cum.

  Helena became lost in the sensation of the goblin's rubbing, squeezing fingers and the debased excitement of sucking its straining cock. She began to lick the hot goblin meat that filled her mouth and swallowed the salty ooze from its cock. Her slurping became lewd. She squirmed her quim against the goblin's fingers.

  The tutor had warned her what would happen if she was too skilled with her mouth. "You will weaken the dam that holds your husband's seed and his lust will flood your mouth. You must stop before this occurs so that the seed will not be wasted in your belly. You want it to fill your loins."

  But Helena did not wish to sacrifice her virginity to this beast, so she continued to lick and suck and moan around the hard cock of the goblin. She was ruled by her lust. Drool spilled down her chin, washing away the mud there. The goblin was sawing mercilessly against her cunt and she wished his finger could reach the aching bud of her clit.

  "Ooma Svent! Ug Svent!" cried the goblin. The beast threw back its head and let out a wordless, gargling cry of pleasure.

  Helena's tutoring had not prepared her for the reality of the goblin's hot cum gushing into her mouth. It washed over her tongue and spurted against her throat. She swallowed it and tasted the salty sourness of it, worse even than the precum that had smeared her tongue.

  She choked on the second gush of goblin spunk and popped her lips free from the goblin's spurting cock. The goblin growled, grabbed her hair and roughly fucked its spewing spear into her mouth. She gagged as it fucked its cock between her lips and against her throat. She swallowed the thick broth to avoid drowning in it. Helena's eyes watered with the discomfort.

  The goblin finally released its grip on Helena's blond locks. It played its cock against her lips and smeared her face with more of its dripping cum. She was given no release for her own aching lust. Instead, the goblin lifted her to her feet and began to bind her. She did not resist as it tied her neck and hands to a single cord. It was almost like a leash for a dog and it ensured she could not stray far from the goblin's grasp.

  "Ooma jek Bashwor," said the goblin. "Bashwor yurg."

  "I don't understand," she cried as the goblin jerked her into motion. She had no choice but to follow along behind him. The mud dried on her legs. The goblin's sour cum churned in her belly. She could not believe what had just happened, but she did not dwell on the past when the future presented even more horrifying possibilities. The goblin kept saying Bashwor. Was this the name of its village?

  She stumbled and the goblin yanked her roughly. When she stumbled again he stopped and slapped her ass. The impact of his rough hand stung her and she yelped in pain.

  "Please," she said. "I am tired."

  The goblin yanked her roughly to her feet. She was surprised at how strong he was despite being more than a head shorter than her. She did not doubt that he was as strong as most men she had met. He ran his hand between her thighs and squeezed her quim. She let out a moan and the goblin smothered her with a foul-tasting kiss, driving its long tongue between her lips and nearly gagging her.

  "Ooma yu guskin?" asked the goblin and it gestured to its stiffening loincloth.

  "No, please," moaned the princess.

  The goblin's smile showed uneven rows of yellowing fangs. Helena shrunk away from the savage expression. The goblin began to drag her along again and this time she was more careful about where she put her feet. She did not want this cruel slaver to claim her virginity.

  Helena shuffled along with the goblin throughout the morning. The ropes binding her bit at her throat and wrists whenever she slowed. The goblin at least kept her dangerous falls. They walked together through the brightening forest until they came upon a small hill topped with wood-shingled dugout houses. The buildings were crude in such a way that reminded Helena unpleasantly of the simple villages of the Kornasi barbarians. Only there were no hulking northmen present, this was a village of goblins.

  Smoke darkened the air above the goblin shanties. Small, green-skinned men, and what she presumed were females based on their drooping breasts, began to climb out of their dugouts to gather around her. She was afraid of the growing crowd, but the goblin holding her leash kept her moving into the village. She felt pitiful being displayed so totally to these savage creatures. She might as well have been paraded through the streets by the Kornasi.

  "Ooma!" shouted several of the goblins. They bared their teeth and seemed to either be cheering or threatening her. The females seemed simply curious. A few held plump goblin tots against their breasts.

  "Bashwor, Ooma!" said the goblin pulling her leash. He pointed to a particularly large structure topped with flapping banners with crude animal designs. She saw a wolf and a snake, others she could not identify. The goblin yanked her leash and pulled her into the large dugout.

  The inside was a single large room smoky from the fire that blazed beneath its chimney. A sweaty, fat goblin sat atop a throne made from carved driftwood.

  Beside him stood a comely human woman. She was naked, save for a loincloth of red silk and her large breasts and long legs were decorated with elaborate, swirling tattoos. Her black hair was cut to frame her face, and that face was truly beautiful, but there was a hardness to her expression and her dark eyes that scared Helena more than the goblin and his spear-wielding guards.

  "Ooma," said the fat goblin with apparent delight. His yellow eyes bulged as he stared at Helena. His tongue slid over his fat lips.

  The goblin pulling Helena knelt down and yanked her leash so that she was forced to do the same. He spoke quickly and deferentially to the bloated goblin. This must be the goblin king, realized Helena. Bashwor wasn't the name of the village, it was the name of the goblin master.

  The goblin king hefted himself out of his throne and stood imperiously, his flabby breasts jiggling ever so slightly and shifting the bone charms that hung around his neck. He pointed a fat finger at Helena and then at the goblin that had brought her in bondage before the king. The goblin slid an arm around the waist of the voluptuous human at his side. She stepped forward.

  "Arise and speak your name," said the woman. She spoke with the thick, sensual accent of a Rama from the eastern lands of the Shadow Mountains.

  The princess rose to her feet, but kept her head down. In the savage court of the goblin king, under this woman's judging eyes, Helena was more aware than ever of her nudity. When she finally gathered the nerve to speak it was with a childish voice, "Helena...di Quista."

  Helena added her surname reluctantly. If the woman knew it, she did not react. She spoke briefly in the goblin's language to the goblin king. When this conversation was finished, she returned her attention to the cowering princess.

  "You have been captured by the Mighty War Tyrant Bashowar," said the Rama woman. "He is ruler of Arboras and master of his kin. As highest of his people, he claims you as his wife and rewards his hunter with two sows."

  The thought occurred to Helena that, however crude these goblins were, they had assembled themselves into something like a kingdom. She looked around at the goblins guarding Bashowar. Their tattoos were more elaborate. There were sleek furs on the floor and the crude symbols of the goblins were made from gold instead of brass or bone. These shows of wealth were familiar trappings of a court to Helena. This recognition gave her some small hope that she might not end up the bride of a fat goblin warlord.

  She drew herself up, thrusting her mud-clad breasts out as she
stared at the goblin king.

  "I am Helena di Quista, princess of the Green Peak and daughter of Gedard the Brave." She thrust a finger at the goblin that captured her. "I was mistreated by this brute who forced his affection upon me and I demand satisfaction!"

  "A princess?"

  The woman's smile sent a chill through Helena. The goblins in the room stared at her curiously. The woman spoke in the tongue of the goblins. The more she spoke, the more the goblin king began to smile. He clapped his fat hands together and the other goblins began to laugh.

  "What is it? What is he saying?"

  Guards suddenly stepped forward and roughly shoved Helena to her knees. She cried out in pain and tried to stand up, but the guards shoved her again and she fell forward onto her hands. Bashowar shouted over her head, first at her and then at someone entering the tent.

  She smelled a terrible musk. It was similar to the scent of the kennels and it became more pronounced as the huge, black wolfhound with its lolling tongue was brought into view. Drool spilled from its huge jaws. Helena shrank away from the wolf's snarl.

  "Please, no," cried Helena.

  "No? My master, Bashowar, has heard your plea and decided that only a prince could possibly give you the satisfaction you desire." The Rama woman smiled cruelly and gestured to the wolf. "This is Prince, or, as the goblins call him, Yova Jhowar Regdo. Insatiable Prince of Bitches."

  It was then that Helena spotted the glistening pink worm of the wolf's cock extended from its sheath and her fear became absolute. She began to scream and wrestle against the goblins holding her to the ground. The wolf was brought behind her and it began to sniff at her ass. She felt the cold brush of its nose against her bare bottom and her stomach twisted in knots of fear and disgust.

  "Raise your hindquarters, little bitch," mocked the woman. "Show your new prince how you're in heat."

  "No! Please! Stop this! I'll do anything! Anything you want!"

  Bashowar shouted, his face twisting in anger. The wolf handler yanked the huge animal back before it could mount Helena's tender bottom. She went limp in the arms of the goblins she was fighting against. She did not care that the gold-thatched pink of her shame was on display. She only felt the relief of the reprieve.

  The goblin king began to speak and as he spoke the woman translated his words so Helena could understand them.

  "Bashowar will accept this offer, princess," said the woman. "Tonight, you will sprawl upon his furs and he will claim your royal quim. Tomorrow..."

  The room filled with the wild cheers of the goblins filling the dugout. Helena had to strain to hear the Rama woman speaking amid the shouting.

  "Tomorrow you will belong to the whole village. You will serve as a slave to their pleasure."

  Tears fell from Helena's big, blue eyes as she nodded in acceptance of her miserable fate. Before she closed her eyes in despair she saw the mocking expression the woman wore on her beautiful, cruel face.

  "Call him Master," said the woman. "Call Bashowar 'Hefek' and kiss his feet."

  "I...I can't," whispered the princess. "I will do as he says...but..."

  The woman grabbed a handful of Helena's golden hair and wrenched her head up. The woman towered over the submissive princess. Helena almost expected the woman to strike her, but was surprised when the woman's expression softened. Just a tiny bit.

  "You must do this," hissed the woman. "You have insulted Bashowar. Call him your Hefek or he will bring that wolf over and it will breed your pretty little princess arse. Is that the shame you desire?"

  "No," moaned Helena. She looked at the fat, dirty feet of Bashowar and she reluctantly crawled on hands and knees. Lowering her head to his feet and inhaling his dirty smell was nearly enough to make her refuse. She glanced back at the snarling wolf and she knew she could not travel that road. It was a humiliation, a defilement, that she would not survive.

  "Hefek," said Helena. She dipped her lips to Bashowar's foot and gave him a fleeting kiss. She repeated the word and kissed his other foot. The goblins hooted with delight, as if she was the entire human species kissing the foot of their king.

  The goblin king smiled at his new slave. He spoke a few words. The woman translated.

  "He is pleased by your submission. He declares that it is time you attend him in his furs."

  Another cheer went up from the goblins. This time they became raucous. Several guards picked up Helena and dragged her from the dugout and into the harsh light of day. The goblin crowd viciously grabbed at her body and smacked their bony hands against her tender flesh. Leering goblin faces pressed in close around her. The most aggressive goblins pulled her nipples and tried to jam their fingers into her. Only the guards, swinging leather-covered clubs, kept her maidenhead from being claimed by a goblin finger in the chaos.

  Bashowar's dugout was larger than most and stuffed full with aromatic spices, curing meats, pots, jars, and hanging trinkets. A hunched, wrinkled old goblin woman was tending to a massive stew pot in the dugout's fire. She curled her lip in disgust at the sight of Helena. The guards threw the princess down onto a pile of furs and she instinctively covered herself with one. The old goblin woman snatched it away and shook a finger at Helena.

  "I'm sorry!" moaned the princess. "I don't know what you're saying."

  "Slave bitch, ooman!" Snapped the goblin. "Clean you up for Bashowar."

  The goblin clanged a wooden spoon against the stew pot. She dragged it out from the fire with a grunt and a burst of sparks. The water inside was just short of boiling and perfumed with soaking branches of herbs and spices, but there was nothing else in the murky water. No chicken or ham or whatever the goblins might eat. It dawned on Helena, with a prick of fear, that she was the meat for the stew.

  "No!" cried the princess. The goblin woman was viciously strong. She got her bony arms around the princess and wrestled her into the enormous stew pot. Steaming water sloshed over the sides. Helena wailed in pain from the heat of the water, but the pain ebbed and the water began to cool. She relaxed and found that each time she inhaled the steam from the strong-smelling herbs she relaxed a bit more. She actually smiled at the goblin crone.

  "Feel good," said the goblin. "Prepare you. Clean and happy."

  By the time the goblin pulled the sopping princess out of the pot the young woman was pink-skinned and wrinkly on her fingers and toes. Her nipples had gone puffy in the warm water and the strong herbs had turned Helena's brain to mush. She was in a daze and very much at peace with whatever was to come.

  Helena laughed and turned around as if whirling at a dance. She was giddy from the herbs and was surprised to see two young human women standing just inside the dugout. They were pale and slender, rusty-haired and pale, so similar that Helena took them for sisters. One was very obviously pregnant. Her abdomen bulged grotesquely form her lean body. They were naked and their arms were marked with crude tattoos.

  "Hello," said Helena.

  The goblin crone snapped at them and the sisters began taking pots down from the shelves. They unstopped the clay pots and poured glistening oil into their hands. The two women began to rub their naked bodies against Helena and slide their oil-slick hands between her legs, up her slender tummy, and over her breasts and bottom.

  "Oh," gasped Helena. "That feels quite nice."

  The women began to kiss Helena on her shoulders and arms. Their lips pressed hot kisses to her breasts, to her tummy, and to her thighs. They knelt before her and behind her and pressed their faces against her. One hot tongue found her sex, the other sipped between her cheeks and caressed her ass.

  Helena might have reacted with shock only minutes before, but under the effects of the crone's stew she felt nothing but pleasure and love for the two girls. She cradled their heads, pulling them against her quim and ass. She squirmed as their tongues danced over her aching clit and swirled around the tight pucker of her anus.

  "I've never before...ahh...so good..."

  The dugout's flap opened and Bashowar entered.
The Rama woman was at his side, watching with a raised eyebrow and a smirk as Helena squirmed against the two girls. The princess glistened with oil, her supple body pink from the bath and flushing darker across her cheeks and chest. Her nipples had hardened from the kisses and her virginal pussy was slick with more than just saliva.

  "Out!" said the woman. Her voice sent the two girls scurrying out of the tent. The goblin crone followed them.

  "Awww," whined Helena. "I was enjoying that...with their little tongues..."

  She stuck out the pink tip of her tongue and waggled it as she imagined their tongues had against her clit and up her ass. The dark-haired Rama woman stroked Bashowar's arm. The goblin king said something and the woman dipped her head in deference and replied in the goblin's tongue. When she turned, Helena saw that that the woman's expression had hardened once again.

  "What is your name?" asked Helena.

  The Rama woman came closer to Helena and said, "I am Margrite."

  "That is a...pretty name..."

  Margrite's smile revealed that her canine teeth had been replaced with golden fangs. The Rama woman caressed Helena's shoulders and circled slowly around her. The young princess became aware of the warmth and softness of the Rama woman's body. Margrite's large breasts pressed into the back of Helena's shoulders. Margrite's hand reached around the slender curve of Helena's hip and her fingers pressed between Helena's thighs.

  "When you are in the presence of Bashowar," Margrite lightly stroked Helena's quim as she spoke, "you will serve him with eagerness and be ready at all times to give yourself to him. Some slaves toil. Some slaves are for breeding and milk. Because you are a princess..."

  Margrite pulled Helena tightly against her as the Rama woman's fingertip slipped into the warm channel of Helena's cunt. The young princess cried out softly. She was not afraid of Margrite or Bashowar. She was burning with desire. She pressed her bottom back against Margrite's hips and felt warmth in the cradle of Margrite's spoon.