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

by Amanda Clover

  The glow behind the goddess's eyes shrunk like a dying candle's last flicker. When the light was gone, Ionethus blinked once and her eyes were much more human than even Jivayn’s eyes. Her other features were still elven in nature, which suited Margery's taste quite well. She felt a hot throb of desire as the gorgeous goddess approached.

  Margery was not sure how to begin or what she was supposed to do, but the goddess was no longer an intimidating presence. Her smile had become serene and as she reached out and caressed Margery's face, the princess felt calming warmth spread over her. It was a generalized bliss that wrapped her entire body and buoyed Margery's spirits. This was right, she realized. This was where she belonged in the moment.

  "You are so beautiful," said Ionethus.

  "For a human, you mean," said Margery.

  "For a star." Ionethus leaned closer. "For the moon. By any measure, you are beautiful."

  Margery could only reply with a soft moan as she stared into the darkness of Ionethus's eyes and saw a beautiful infinity. The goddess kissed the princess and bestowed the fullness of her warmth to the human woman. Their mouths opened together and their tongues met in a sweet, hot, slippery embrace. Their lips moved as if speaking secret words that their tongues communicated.

  Margery embraced the goddess without thinking and felt the hard ridges where her arachnid aspect retreated into Ionethus's back. The shapely goddess pressed her soft breasts against Margery's and they pillowed together, slipped over one another, and shared the erectness of their nipples. Ionethus pulled Margery tight and slid her hands down the princess's back to squeeze her shapely bottom.

  Ionethus lifted Margery easily and a bed of webs materialized from the darkness at the edges of the room. The living goddess smiled sweetly as she lowered Margery onto her back. The princess was awestruck by the goddess's beauty and could find no words adequate to compliment her. She watched as Ionethus dropped to her knees. Her powerful hands spread Margery's thighs and the princess stifled a cry of pleasure as warm kisses trailed their way to the aching entrance of her naked pussy.

  "Your flower is untouched," whispered Ionethus. She gave Margery's quim a slow and gentle pet with her fingers. She spread the princess's outer lips and leaned her tongue down to run the length of Margery's virgin channel. The princess arched as the goddess's exquisite tongue found her clit. Ionethus was patient and gentle and infuriatingly good at teasing Margery to the edge of an explosive orgasm and then stopping.

  "You are... driving me mad," gasped Margery after the fifth time she felt herself on the edge of an orgasm only to be denied.

  "You honey is so sweet and flows so readily into my mouth," said Ionethus between slow licks. "I am greedy. I want every drop of you for myself."

  Margery shuddered as another hot lick traveled over, around, and away from her clit. She thrust herself at that devious tongue and it pushed just inside her aching slit to sample her nectar once more. Suddenly taken by lust, Margery sat up and grabbed Ionethus's head with both hands. She looked into those violet-tinted eyes as she pulled the goddess against her cunt.

  "Lick me," growled the princess. "Make me.... ohhhhhHHH!"

  Ionethus, apparently amused by Margery's sudden streak of dominance, gave the princess exactly what she desired. Ionethus's lips captured Margery's clitoris. Her tongue flicked against that throbbing bud and she began to rhythmically suck at Margery's clit.

  The princess felt the waves crashing inside her body almost immediately. Powerful contractions shook her and she lifted her bottom off the bed of webs as she rode her cunt hard against Ionethus's sucking mouth. Each orgasmic contraction was answered by a deft flick of Ionethus's tongue until one orgasm became two and two multiplied to four.

  At last, with a final wet slurp of suction, the goddess lifted her mouth from Margery's straining mound. The princess sunk back into the hammock of webs. She was delirious with pleasure, flushed and drenched in sweat, and all she could do for a long while was smile up at Ionethus.

  Ionethus crept atop Margery, kissing her way up the young virgin's body and dragging her ample breasts over Margery's tender flesh. Margery shuddered as she felt a hard nipple against her clit. She arched her back unconsciously and thrust her wetness against the goddess's breast. Ionethus chuckled and continued to kiss her way up Margery's body. Her tongue flicked Margery's sensitive navel. It traced a hot path to one of the princess's breasts, followed the swell of that pale mound and began to swirl around the princess's hard nipple.

  "Oh, goddess," cried Margery. "Everywhere you touch me burns with pleasure.

  The goddess answered with a pleased murmur as she caught Margery's plump nipple and began to simultaneously lick and suck. Her hand rubbed between the princess's thighs as the goddess sucked first one breast and then the other. She relentlessly drove the princess to another orgasm with her expert fingers and torturous tongue on the teen's tantalizing tits. Ionethus even used her teeth to torment Margery's nipple and prolonged the pouting princess's pleasure.

  Ionethus's kiss finally arrived at Margery's lips. It was as passionate and as enticing as before, but was now flavored with a sweet hint of Margery's own juices. They embraced each other for a long, hot moment before the goddess finally lifted her lips.

  "Now you will do something for me, my beauty," said Ionethus.

  Margery considered some sly response, but she was smitten with the goddess. She could only nod her head in agreement. The princess watched, enraptured, as the beautiful Ionethus stood up and ran her hands over her breasts. Ionethus shaped her lovely mounds and tugged at her nipples between thumbs and fingers. Her hands fell lower and she swung her slender hips a little as she stroked over her muscular abdomen and down to the small, hairless cock hanging between her thighs.

  Ionethus did not blink as she stared at Margery, but a smile spread across her face. She fondled her cock and the princess saw it had grown larger, though not fully erect, and was at least as big as any manhood Margery had seen depicted in statue or drawing.

  Despite being the very root of manhood, Ionethus's cock was somehow feminine with its pale shaft and pinkish blush. Ionethus stroked back the foreskin to completely reveal the pink tip. It darkened to red as she worked her hand over her bulging phallus. She stepped onto the bed, nearer to the sitting princess. Margery could smell the unique scent of male arousal. She could not look away as Ionethus stroked it nearly to full engorgement. She let go of her cock and lowered her hands.

  "Touch it," said the goddess. "Feel the flesh that will claim you and make you whole as a woman."

  Margery had never before been attracted to men or even the idea of maleness, but she was attracted to Ionethus and she was also well-trained by Jivayn to pleasure her partner. She played her fingers over the tip of the goddess's cock and it visibly twitched.

  She wrapped her soft hand around the shaft, just below the head, and began to gently stroke the goddess's maleness. It grew in size and stiffened further and so Margery grasped it with both hands. Each tug on the smooth shaft bunched the loose skin around the tip and gently lifted the heavy bollocks dangling beneath.

  "More," said the goddess. "Cradle me with your hands and receive me with your mouth."

  The princess did not hesitate. She loved Ionethus in the way only a mortal could love a goddess. She would do anything to pleasure her. Her tongue licked slowly around and over the rigid tip, tasting the salty-sweet nectar that gathered at the tiny slit of the goddess's cock. Margery parted her lips and took that swollen member into her mouth. She began to suck on it. She moaned with her mouth stuffed full and stroked it with both hands.

  Ionethus smiled serenely and watched with her violet eyes as the princess offered the hot embrace of her mouth to the goddess's immortal fuckpole. The more Margery sucked, the more enthusiastic she became. She bobbed her head faster and slurped more loudly. Her spit soaked down the shaft and lubricated each stroke of her hands. She felt Ionethus's cock seem to grow thicker. It pushed down her tongue and she thrust i
t to the back of her throat to take as much as she was able. Her lips tightened. Her hands worked feverishly.

  The goddess caressed the princess's face. Margery knew something was about to happen. She could sense the tension that welled inside the goddess. A look up her abdomen to the mounds of her breasts revealed that Ionethus was quivering with desire.

  "Oh, princess," sighed Ionethus. "Your mouth is a blessing. I will bestow mine into it."

  Margery had only a moment to wonder what such a phrase meant before the goddess's cock began to jerk against Margery's tongue. Hot gushes of liquid poured out from the maleness. It was thick as sap and hot enough to surprise the princess.

  She swallowed the gooey liquid that filled her mouth. It was salty and sweet and not at all unpleasant. Her lips popped over the throbbing tip and some of the goddess's cum spurted down her chin. She quickly swallowed it back into her mouth and took each pump over her tongue. She worked her hands the length of the goddess's shaft and milked out every drop that would come.

  "It's delicious," gasped Margery. She popped her lips up and down on the princess's cock a few more times before she pulled back and admired Ionethus. The goddess had a sweet smile on her face. The hardness of her cock was undiminished and so Margery began to roll her tongue across the swollen head.

  "That's enough," said Ionethus. "It is time, princess. Are you ready to give yourself to me?"

  "Always," said Margery as she rose to her feet.

  They kissed again, intense, but brief as the goddess guided Margery onto her back on the bed of webbing once more. This time there was no play. No teasing. The mighty Ionethus knelt between Margery’s shapely thighs. Ionethus pressed the swollen tip of her hard cock to the hairless flower of Margery’s quim. Margery lifted her head to watch and thought the fat, glistening apple-sized tip could not possibly enter her tight channel.

  “Once more,” said Ionethus. “Tell me you are prepared.”

  Margery took a deep breath and began to speak, “I am—“

  The goddess thrust roughly forward and buried her cock in Margery’s virgin flower. It was so sudden that it took a moment for the princess to feel the pain. Her abdomen bulged slightly with the immense size of the goddess’s cock and then she felt that sharp agony of her flower being claimed. It was as terrible as a knife and it throbbed within her virgin passage with scalding aftershocks.

  “Ohhhhhh yes,” moaned Ionethus. “Your purity. Your sweetness. They belong to me now, princess.”

  Ionethus leaned over her, a wild look in her inhuman eyes. The goddess took hold of Margery’s shoulders and began to move atop the princess. Her hips worked and the huge pillar of her cock, stained by the defloration, worked in and out of Margery’s painfully stretched tunnel. The pink of her inner lips gripped at that mighty cock as it moved inside her. The cum-heavy stones of the goddess pressed against Margery’s tender anus.

  Through the pain, Margery found clarity. She thought of herself with Jivayn. Naomi freed. The deep elves at peace with the humans on the surface. She thought of the beautiful child she would make with the goddess and all the power that child would possess.

  Love, she realized, was the anchor of sanity in this storm of pain and pleasure. Ionethus moved without remorse, shaking Margery’s body and punishing her most tender flesh with that mighty cock.

  Margery’s mind held to that love as she was enveloped in the act of union. Ionethus bent Margery’s body into a dozen different positions. Her kiss sucked at Margery’s flesh and her long fingers found new ways to torture and tease the princess. The pain would be excruciating for minutes on end and then the pleasure would be a maddening wave that swept it all away and left the princess flopping in orgasmic bliss.

  Sweat stung Margery’s eyes. She closed them and pictured Jivayn. Minutes became hours. Hours became days. Her body was a doll at the mercy of the living goddess. Her flower was slick with nectar. Somewhere, distantly, she felt the first throbbing of that massive cock and the hot pump of holy seed into her womb. White light surrounded her. It swallowed her up.

  Margery was not sure if she was dying or being reborn. But she held certain to the one thing she had: her love for Jivayn.

  Epilogue

  The New Order

  It was Ilyanka who betrayed the high priestess. Jivayn saw the star-shaped scar on the acolyte’s wrist as the woman and the other traitors dragged her from the palace and into the street.

  “Your time has come, ‘high priestess.’” Ilyanka mocked as she pulled Jivayn’s head up by her hair. The acolyte forced the priestess to look at the crowd that had gathered in the square outside the palace. There were dozens of acolytes, most having discarded their silver masks of anonymity to glare coldly at the fallen priestess. “You betrayed Ionethus and your own destiny.”

  “You dare call me a betrayer?” laughed Jivayn. “You drag me from my bed and—“

  Ilyanka kicked Jivayn in the mouth, cutting the priestess’s lip open. The blow startled the priestess and her mouth filled with blood that drooled down her pale chin. She spit and resumed laughing, her eyes wide and filled with hate to match Ilyanka’s fury.

  “You sent the princess to Ionethus because you loved her.” Ilyanka hauled Jivayn to her feet and she addressed the crowd, “Our false priestess would choose the affections of a human over the future of Shadowhold. She has lied to us and she has proven herself weak. I will become high priestess in her place.”

  Jivayn noted the murmur from the acolytes. Not all of them were pleased with Ilyanka installing herself into the role of high priestess.

  “What about Jivayn?” The crowd parted and one of the lower priestess emerged from the midst of the acolytes. Jivayn could not identify the woman with her face hidden behind her placid silver mask, but the high priestess new that many of the lesser priestesses had learned of her attempt to send Margery to see Ionethus. The door to the goddess’s inner sanctum had not opened in the days since, even for the routine sacrifices to feed her.

  “What will become of her?” Ilyanka asked rhetorically. “She is not even fit to be killed. If Jivayn prefers humans to her sisters, then I say let her have them. Let her have them all.”

  The crowd parted again and several acolytes marched forward bearing the heavy beams of stocks, which they set into the square with mallets. A huge crowd of ragged slaves followed after them, in some cases driven by whips from the mistresses. These were not domestic slaves, trained into perfect submission. They were male labor slaves, who toiled in the deep pits and listened only to the lash. The mob of slaves looked in confusion at the crowd of onlookers and then at the high priestess as she was dragged to the stocks.

  “Lowly maggots of the surface,” cried Ilyanka, “behold this craven body, put here for your pleasure.”

  She tore the sheer gown from Jivayn’s shoulders and ripped away the silken thong that threaded the elf’s pale buttocks. This exposed the soft pinkness of her quim and anus to the bewildered slaves. With a lash of the whip, they began to pull off their soiled trousers. Some stared at Jivayn and began to wank their cocks to the sight of her immaculate flesh.

  “Put her in the stocks,” said Ilyanka, “and let us enjoy the show before I ascend to the temple.”

  Jivayn fought as the acolytes wrestled her into the stocks. They gagged her mouth to prevent her from casting any magic and drove her down to her knees. They shackled her knees to the upright posts of the stocks and put her head and hands through the heavy wooden enclosure. Iron clamps secured it tightly and trapped the gagged priestess helplessly exposed to the lusty slaves.

  Ilyanka strode behind Jivayn and began to caress the disgraced priestess’s bottom. Her stroking became a scratch and her fingernails left red runnels on the pale curve of one buttock. Jivayn remained silent. She had endured far worse pain in her life and she would not grant Ilyanka the satisfaction of hearing her cry out or whimper.

  “You’ve always been a tough bitch,” said Ilyanka as she smacked Jivayn’s bottom. “But you had a
rotten core. Now you’ll be driven mad by all those filthy human cocks. Come on, worms, come and have your piece of traitor flesh.”

  The human were driven into frenzy by the sight of Jivayn in the stocks. They hooted with lust and furiously stroked their cocks as they began to crowd around her hindquarters. Premature gushes of semen splattered onto the stones of the square. Some splashed against Jivayn’s feet.

  “Margery,” she said into the gag. She closed her eyes and focused on her memories of the princess’s beautiful face. As the first rough hands began to squeeze and stroke her body, she murmured, “I love you.”

  The spider crashed into the gathering of humans, crushing some underfoot and sending the rest scattering into the crowd. The acolytes and other onlookers reacted in shock. Some began to scream, “Ionethus!”

  Jivayn tried to turn her head, but the stocks restricted all movement. There was a terrible crunch as someone was killed by the spider and Ilyanka screamed in an effort to rally her traitor acolytes. Cool liquid oozed from the shackles holding Jivayn’s legs against the stocks and her lower body became free. More silver dripped from the clasps that held the timber against her neck. She got her feet beneath her body and pushed up, lifting the oppressive weight of the stocks from her neck and shoulders. She freed her hands and immediately tore the gag from her mouth.

  She turned and was confronted with her favorite mount fighting off Ilyanka and a half dozen other acolytes armed with spears. Two acolytes lay dead beneath the giant spider’s legs. A strange, violet radiance played over the scene and it was only as Jivayn looked up that she realized the source of the light.

  “Margery,” she whispered.

  It was Margery and it was not Margery. The beautiful princess had changed dramatically, her body gravid and changed to resemble Ionethus. She floated in the air and four enormous spider legs sprouted from her back and flexed with menace. One of the acolytes threw a spear at Margery and the legs lashed out to catch the weapon and snap it as easily as a twig. With a wave of her hand, Margery tore away the armor and peeled off the flesh of the acolyte. The traitor collapsed, screaming and clutching at her exposed muscle.