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

by Amanda Clover

  "Another time," she whispered to herself.

  "What was that?" asked the wizard, smiling as she lapped at his cock.

  "I said, that we will do this--"

  The door burst from its hinges. Keyala fell back from Odello and his dangling cock as her father's guards burst into the room. Odello did not even have time to tuck his cock into his trousers. The emira could not hide her breasts from the guards. Both were seized and dragged from the winehold and into the midday light of the courtyard. There waited the Sultan's vizier, Hessif, a thin man with a cruel face and an infamous lack of pity.

  "I would have you both killed for this blasphemy," said Hessif. "But you are the emira and you, blasphemer, sorcerer, are a dignitary tolerated in this city only because of your foul order's power. But you will not escape justice. I will have your hands cut off so you will never work your magic again and send you back to your Black Tower with a message that wizards are not welcome in Varnasha!"

  "No!" cried Keyala. "It was not his fault."

  She fought against the guards holding her arms. Her golden jewelry thumped against her bare breasts. She did not even care that these men saw her naked body. She could not allow Odello to be maimed.

  The vizier slapped her hard across the face, stunning her to silence. She had never been struck before. Not even as a child.

  "Please," said Odello, "leave her be. It was I who preyed upon her mind with my--"

  "Of course it was, but no matter," said Hessif. "Take him away."

  Keyala wailed as her lover was dragged away to be punished. Hessif grabbed her by the throat.

  "You disgust me, emira," he whispered. "You bring nothing but disgrace onto your family. But in honor of your father, I will extend to you the one choice you have to save yourself and save your black-skinned beast of a lover: go on pilgrimage to Arash-Kol. Do not even speak of this to your father, for it would kill him. In exchange I will send this wizard back to his homeland with both of his hands still on his wrists."

  Tears spilled from Keyala's eyes as she thought of the two-year pilgrimage to Arash-Kol. It was a pilgrimage undertaken by those who sought atonement or those who wished to devote themselves entirely to god. As she wept, Keyala knew she had no other choice.

  "Yes," she said. "I will go."

  She did not even say farewell to her father. Hessif provided her with the plain robes of a pilgrim and a satchel of food and water skins and he sent her on her way with a column of pilgrims departing from the temple. She did not even know the names or faces of the people surrounding her as she left the white wall of Varnasha, crossed the river Nash and set off along the desert road towards the distant tower of Arash-Kol.

  For the first day, she wept and drank her water constantly. It was only on the morning of the second that new resolve took over. She decided she would defy Hessif's expectations and she would complete the pilgrimage and return to Varnasha. She would make him pay for what he had done.

  One day turned to three and three to five. Some of the old men and women fell away from the column of pilgrims. Keyala's feet were badly blistered. Her fingers chapped from the harsh winds. The desert heat was unrelenting during the days and left her cold at night. She spoke with some of her fellow pilgrims. She did not like them, nor the way they looked at her, as if she might be a brothel girl seeking to become a bride of god.

  She felt their eyes upon her on the sixth day. She walked farther and farther apart from the rest of the pilgrims and kept wary at all times. She felt like a lamb among wolves. And these were the people seeking the holy tower?

  The sandstorm did not come without a warning. The skies darkened for hours until the brown clouds of the storm appeared ahead of them.

  "Dig!" they cried and everyone tried to bury themselves into the sand to escape the winds and scouring sands.

  It was as the darkness of the storm enveloped them that one of the men tried to put his hands on the emira. He was leering and ugly. His hands worked into her robe and he grabbed at her breasts. Keyala kicked him away and ran from her dugout. He shouted something after her, but she could not hear him in the howling winds.

  Keyala could not say how long or how far she traveled in the midst of the storm. It seemed that an eternity passed, her clothes torn by the sands, her ankles burned by the force of the winds. At last, the storm passed and blue skies appeared. She blinked at the sudden light. She was lost. Deep in the erg with no sign of the road or the other pilgrims.

  She wandered until the sky began to darken. Despairing, filled with hatred for the man that had driven her off, she collapsed in the shadow of a rocky mesa and pulled her knees against her chest. She would die here, she realized, another lost traveler sucked into the desert.

  The day's het raced away and left the cold of night to pry its fingers through her tattered cloak. She shivered and her breath steamed from her mouth. The moon was so bright. The sky so clear. She almost saw them coming. She thought they were animals or men, moving among the rocks and leaping with ease. She was wrong. They were far worse than men.

  They revealed themselves without fear, stepping from the shadows and into the pale moonlight. When they stopped scurrying and leaping they squatted on their inverted knees, like springs coiled tight to launch into the air.

  They wore no clothes, but their slender bodies were covered with brown, red and black patterns of wide scales. A ridge of bony black followed their spine from their fat tails up to their heads. Their hideous faces were those of crocodiles with shorter snouts, their golden eyes glowing in the night and their wide mouths filled with sharp teeth. One of them carried a weapon like a primitive spear. The other two carried pouches slung over their shoulders.

  The emira had never seen one of these creatures outside of the drawings in books, but she knew of them. The people of Shaddobar called them cold bloods or simply lizardmen. Upright, savage reptile men. The travelers from the north who dared the deep erg called them saureks.

  The emira froze beneath the frayed blanket of her robe. She held in her breath so that the steam would not rise from her nose. The lizardmen said nothing as they came closer. Their heads cocked and swung from side to side with the quick movements of a reptile. Keyala prayed that they had not seen her. That they were drawn to something else.

  God did not answer her prayers.

  They pulled her roughly to her feet. Their language was a clicking growl that she could not hope to decipher.

  "Please, I have some money," she said. "Just a few coins, in my satchel there."

  She made to reach for her small purse and the lizardman with the spear smacked her hand away and jabbed the sharpened tip of his weapon at her chest. She backed up until the hard wall of the rock was behind her. They stole her purse and emptied her meager satchel of clothing and keepsakes. These they scattered into the desert, with the exception of a small ivory elephant. A toy from her childhood to remind her of her mother. The lizardman holding it in its stubby fingers stuffed the ivory carving into its pouch.

  Their attention returned to Keyala. She moaned with fear as the lizardmen closed in around her, clicking and snapping their jaws. Their wide, pink tongues lolled over the sharp rows of their teeth. Their alien eyes stared at her with all the compassion of snakes. She assumed she would be dead soon and she only hoped that it would be quick.

  The lizardmen clicked with delight and set upon her with their claws, slashing and tearing at the remaining layers of her robe. The one with the spear managed to wind her tattered cloak around it and yanked it free from her shoulders.

  The other lizardmen simply plucked handfuls of her robe away from her body until she feel the night chill and the hard rasp of their claws against her bare flesh. They were not gentle and as they stripped her their claws slashed scarlet lines across her thighs, belly, and abdomen. The wounds were superficial, but the stinging pain added to her horror.

  "Please," she moaned, "just kill me. Just end it. God above, have pity on me."

  The lizardmen had a disti
nctive musk that stifled Keyala's senses. The more she inhaled their putrid smell, the more she felt dizzy and flushed. The last scraps of her clothing fell to the sandy rocks at her feet. She tried to cover herself, to preserve her modesty in the midst of the inhuman horror, but the lizardmen would not allow her even this. They took her arms and threw her roughly back against the rocks.

  The largest of them snapped his jaws and hissed at his companions. He won some sort of display of dominance and stepped before the emira. His golden eyes rolled in his reptilian face. His head cocked to one side as he looked at her. The emira braced for the pain of his savage bite. Her arms were held pinned to the rocks and she could not hop to shield her throat or her heaving breasts.

  What happened next was not a bite, but it was somehow even more savage and definitely unexpected. The lizardman's clawed hands grabbed her thighs just below her waist and forced her legs apart. She moaned in surprise and looked down the lizardman's slender abdomen in time to see the pick curve of its penis sliding from its inner sheath. The appendage was pale pink and glistened with mucus. It was hooked, like a thumb, very wide at its base, but not long at all compared to Odello's.

  Not that the size of the lizardman's cock was foremost in Keyala's mind. The sudden realization that this inhuman creature intended to have sex with her sent a new wave of anguish and fear through her. She kicked uselessly. She tried to free her arms. She cried out as tears poured down her face.

  "God, help me!" she wailed.

  The cool, damp wedge of the lizardman's cock pressed between her thighs. The tip dragged against the tender flower of Keyala's sex. The creature hissed and exhaled its rotten breath into her face. She turned away from it, moaning, closing her eyes tight as its fat tongue dragged up her cheek and left a damp trail.

  Its claws tightened on her thighs. The wedge of the lizardman's cock teased back and forth and up and down her delicate entrance, smearing the wetness against her. It was an unpleasant oily liquid that wet her thighs as the cold snout of its cock pressed more and more insistently. The tip of its triangular appendage caught in her folds and spread them. It drove forward in a sudden stroke, stretching her wide to the wedge of its base and, with a sharp inch inside her virgin channel, the lizardman claimed her virginity.

  The cold blood's mouth fell open and it hissed with apparent pleasure at the warm tightness of the emira's virgin cunt. Its comrades hissed and clicked in sympathy.

  The lizardman hesitated only a moment after sheathing the cool wedge of his cock in the emira's cunt. It pressed her back against the stone and began to slide its cock in and out of her. There was a serpentine motion to its body as it sawed it cock into her. The slick wedge seemed to curve inside her body with almost prehensile movement. Although it was not very long, it managed to reach deep with each stroke and hook into a spot inside the emira's body that she could not imagine a man reaching.

  The pain of her loss was fleeting, but the tightness of her stretched channel remained so that her cunt gripped the lizardman like a sleeve.

  "Ohhh, it's so big," moaned Keyala. "Too wide...for me..."

  The lizard man clicked in answer and seemed to lean its body back so that it could watch its pale pink cock skewering the petite human's cunt. Her hot juices soaked the lizardman. Its rapid thrusting began to take on a lewd wetness.

  "Aahhhhhh," moaned Keyala as her pleasure began to rise. Her body soon betrayed her and she found herself leaning into the lizardman's strokes and instinctively urging its curled cock deeper into her body. Her thighs and shoulders tensed with her growing pleasure. The ache of her lust overwhelmed her shame and fear and she thrust herself against the smooth scales of the lizardman, driving its cock deeper and deeper into her tight channel.

  Her inhuman lover did not care for her pleasure. It came inside her without warning, its cock throbbing and twitching and spewing out a sticky quantity of its sperm-rich semen into the emira's cunt. The lizardman's mouth hung open as it painted her womb with its seed. It stopped moving and allowed her flexing cunt to milk its cock. When it slipped out of her there was a slurp and a portion of its frothy seed spilled from between her legs.

  The emira had no chance to catch her breath. Before she could even feel emptiness of her cunt she was thrown to her hands and knees. Another lizardman took the place of the first and its cock slurped loudly as it claimed her from behind.

  The savage cold blood pushed the emira's face into the sand with both hands and it violently thrust into the creamy peach of her cunt. Its thrusts were wild, utterly bestial, and without relent. It pounded its cock into her so hard and fast that her breasts began to burn with friction against the cool night sand. It lashed the sides of her thighs with its tail, raising welts and causing her to cry out her pain into the sand with each blow.

  She was dazed by the ferocity of the lizardman. By the force of its strokes, the weight of its body against her, and the way its fingers dug into her hips. She could not feel shame. She could barely even breathe. And yet her orgasm broke through her with a sudden storm of pleasure. Her body tensed and spasms of ecstasy rolled through her.

  "KKKKKAaaaaaaa!" hissed the lizardman behind her.

  The lizardman's cock throbbed as the emira's tight channel flexed tightly around it. She wailed her ecstasy into the sand, a dizzying pleasure that was only heightened by the debased pleasure of the lizardman ejaculating inside her. She squeezed and milked its twitching wedge as the cool waves of its semen overflowed her stuffed slit.

  It withdrew suddenly, leaving her cunt clutching at nothing, squeezing out sloppy strands of milk-white cum that painted her thighs and dropped to the sand. The third lizardman was on her in a moment and rutted into her flooded fuckhole with violence to match its comrades. Its gripped the black silk of her hair in one hand, forcing her head painfully out of the sand and forcing her to wail with pain and pleasure at each violent stroke.

  The third lizardman was mercifully quick about it. In perhaps a hundred rapid strokes she felt its cock twitching and its cum boiling into her spunk stuffed channel. It withdrew while it was still in the throes of pleasure and she felt the last spurts of its seed spend against her thighs and the firm roundness of her bottom.

  She lay there, gaping and glazed, utterly humiliated by the lizardmen, deflowered and forced to admit her own pleasure. The lizardmen hissed and clicked to one another. She realized they might be debating what to do with her.

  "Please don't kill me," she said, lifting up into a kneeling position. She cleaned the sand from her face and breasts. Her nipples were tender from the friction. She realized the three lizardmen were staring at her. They were watching her feel her breasts. "Is that what you desire? You are single-minded beasts. Have a look then, cold bloods."

  She squeezed the firm apples of her breasts in her hands and played her thumbs back and forth against her brown nipples. She licked her lips and sat back into the cool sand to spread her thighs and show them her cum-stuffed slit. She overcame her shame and began to stroke herself between her thighs.

  That night on the sands, the lizardmen were enticed by the emira's lewd display and decided to spare her life. But not before each had taken another turn in the hot stew of her slit.

  By the light of the moon they bound her with strips of her ruined robe. She was sore and nearly exhausted from the savage rutting, but was relieved they seemed intent to spare her life. That meant she might see freedom. And freedom meant a chance to have her revenge. She would play along with these sick reptiles only so long as she had to in order to survive. She promised herself, following bound in their footsteps, that she would escape at the first opportunity.

  The emira's shame dripped out as she was pulled along behind the upright lizards. Its became an unpleasant glue against her thighs and a sticky reminder of the sick pleasure the lizardmen had taken from her body. The smell of their cum lingered as well. It was a musky scent of maleness that was at once revolting and exciting.

  The flames of dawn were on the horizon whe
n the lizardmen and their prisoner arrived at the their lair. The emira had heard tales of false mountains, but she never imagined she might see one of the disconcerting clay hives of the cold bloods. It was a hill of sun-baked mud taller than any tower in Varnasha and wider at its base than the courtyard of silent prayers. Every surface sported the black voids of burrows into the clay and dozens of the lizardmen scampered in and out and among the tiers of entrances.

  Keyala's captors announced themselves with hissing and loud clicking and she was dragged into one of the larger tunnels on the bottom tier. The young emira's fear intensified as she entered the tunnels that echoed with the clicking of the lizardmen. They passed from chamber to chamber and she saw the cold bloods diligently hoarding food, crafting spears, and tending to their young. The lizardmen that labored paid her no mind.

  She realized why as she was brought into a large chamber lit with torches and a central fire that fed into a chimney. By the red glow of the flames she could see a dizzying scene of carnality. She counted nine different human women engaged in sexual acts with lizardmen. The women, far from being reluctant captives, were eagerly rutting with the scaly creatures. The room was thick with the smell of sex and the soft cries of their pleasure.

  "Oh God, protect me and guide me," moaned the emira as she looked out upon the scene. The humans seemed to be mostly the stout women of Kornasi, with their paler skin and fuller figures compared to the women of Shaddobar. Keyala had heard that the Kornasi clans had scattered after being attacked by a powerful uprising of minotaurs. She reasoned these women must have fled into the desert to escape the minotaurs and wound up in the claws of the cold bloods.

  The woman closest to her was a comely woman with dark hair and a tattoo of a raven's wings on her shoulders and back. As Keyala watched the woman offered her plump bottom and her juicy cunt to one lizardman while she hungrily sucked the pink cock of another. The woman's fat breasts bounced with each stroke of the lizardman into her cunt. The emira could hardly tear her eyes away. She was disgusted and yet curious. She wanted to watch.