The Library of Forbidden Pleasures Presents

  By Amanda Clover

  Cover artwork by deilan12

  This book and all its contents are copyright 2022 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.

  Table of Contents

  The Library of Forbidden Pleasures Presents

  Chapter One: Fantasies and Freedom

  Chapter Two: The Book and the Fisherman

  Chapter Three: The Shores of Kurandan

  Chapter Four: Nocturnal Visitors

  Chapter Five: The Goblin Chief and His Discovery

  Chapter Six: Morning with the Goblin Chief

  Chapter Seven: Escape from the Goblins

  Chapter Eight: The Raid on the Mainland

  Chapter Nine: Strangely Ever After

  The Library of Forbidden Pleasures

  1

  Fantasies and Freedom

  Elenora Bardot waited until Severinn the White Haired had gone to sleep. The old wizard shuffled about his study late into the evening, but Elenora kept her patient vigil from her bed. When she finally heard his snoring, she crept out from under the duvet.

  Her blue nightgown clung to her shapely body. She had grown into her womanhood, with an ample bosom, wide hips, and perhaps a few too many honey cakes gathering in her callipygous onion. Her blond hair was pulled back into a single tail that spilled pale gold down her back. Her blue-gray eyes were like a winter sea, her brow heavy and dark in contrast to the pale blond of the hair on her head.

  She stepped softly through Severinn’s house. She had learned where each creaky floorboard might betray her movements and carefully avoided them. The old wizard could be quite a crank if awakened. Worse, if he caught her skulking about in her nightgown, her adventure would be over and he might decide she needed to help him keep his bed warm for the night. Elenora did not mind his bony body and his groping hands. Severinn never did more than touch and squeeze. He might have done even that in his sleep. She had been warned by the academy that master wizards would often take out their desires on their apprentices, but such had not been the case for Elenora.

  She wondered why as she reached Severinn’s cluttered study and crawled under his desk. There, in a hidden compartment, was the key to Severinn’s secret library. That library, filled with strange things, was no bigger than a closet, with only room enough for a chair, a magic lamp, and a small table. She unlocked the door, stepped inside, pulled the door gently closed, lit the lamp with a snap of magic, and took a deep breath.

  The smell of ancient books filled her lungs. It was forbidden and exciting, recalling history and desire in a way that stiffened her pink nipples beneath her gown and stoked the heat in her cove. It was like the scent of an older lover. She ran her fingers over the spines of books. Some she had been allowed to read, to learn the magic under Severinn’s supervision, but there was lore here he had not shared with her. Books of perversity. Blasphemy even.

  Her fingertips settled on the spine of her very favorite of the books. She grasped it and slid it from the shelf.

  Predatory Goblins of Kurandan by Hilde van Ostaan.

  Elenora sat in the high-backed chair and spread the book upon her lap. She opened it to the dog-eared page she had left off the last time she had stolen into the room. Predatory Goblins of Kurandan was a detailed study of the behavior of the various tribes and breeds of goblins on the monster-inhabited island of Kurandan.

  Elenora preferred Predatory Goblins of Kurandan to all the other books because Hilde van Ostaan was a woman – a rarity among such catalogers of monsters – and one with an eye for the perverse that excited and titillated the young sorceress. Hilda had brought her assistants, Sabrina and Jania, with her on her journey to Kurandan. She used her assistants as seemingly willing participants in her observations and in the foreword mentioned that both had decided to remain on Kurandan when she departed.

  The very idea thrilled Elenora. The women had chosen to remain with the goblins. The sinful pleasures they had found there among the creatures had been greater than the lure of human civilization.

  With the thought quickening her pulse, Elenora began to read where she had left off the last time she had stolen into her master’s secret library.

  We encountered the Fire Skull Tribe on the inner slope of Mount Trembus, the great volcano that dominates Kurandan’s northernmost tip. The Fire Skulls make their homes in a series of empty magma chambers with smooth obsidian walls. When Trembus is silent, you can hear the goblins moving about through the tunnels, their chattering voices and scuffing feet echoing up from the tunnels. The Fire Skulls descend from Trembus to do their hunting in the humid jungle like atmosphere warmed by steam vents from deep within the earth.

  It was our second day of observing them when Sabrina became caught in a cord trap laid by the Fire Skulls. I remained in hiding as a pair of goblin hunters emerged from their dugout. They were surprised to find a human female in their snare rather than one of the long-legged elk that inhabit the jungle. But these scrawny goblins, barely half the height of a grown man, knew exactly what to do with my pleading assistant.

  I watched with great interest as they prodded her with their knives and then stripped her naked. Sabrina was subdued upon the ground, her hands bound above her head as the goblins stripped her lithe body and began to fondle and lick her naked flesh. They took great interest in Sabrina’s pert breasts, suckling at these until her nipples were swollen and red as if she might give them milk. One goblin tasted of her loins, licking her quim and making Sabrina cry out in pleasure. She was so smitten by this goblin’s tongue that she began to pleasure his comrade by sucking the finger-sized cock thrust near her face.

  Elenora read this passage with great interest. Her imagination ran wild with images of Sabrina sprawled on the jungle floor, her wrists bound and her head turned to the side as she sucked the goblin’s cock. The other bald-headed Fire Skull Tribe goblin between her creamy thighs, licking and slurping at her steamy cunt. Elenora’s nipples throbbed with need and the young sorceress began to rub them through her nightgown.

  As the book grew even more obscene, she pulled down her nightgown beneath the plush mounds of her tits. Her nipples were pale pink and thick. She played with them with fingers from both hands. Plucking. Pinching. Lifting the weight of her tits by her nipples. Pleasure and pain mingling and jolting like hot electricity to her clit.

  It was not long before Sabrina was rutting willingly with both goblins. They were insatiable! I watched from my hiding place as she rode atop one goblin’s cock while the other plundered her bottom. Their cocks being smaller and slenderer than a man’s meant that Sabrina experienced no discomfort in this latter act.

  In fact, she howled with pleasure, her song summoning more goblins to the location. Four. Six. I could hardly believe it! The goblins soon surrounded her and Sabrina was only too willing to pleasure them all. Their cocks disappeared into her mouth, her cunt, and her ass. At irregular intervals a goblin would chatter with pleasure and unleash its seed. Most often, inside Sabrina, as these miniature brutes seemed intent on stuffing my assistant full of their glistening yellowish seed.

  Each word seemed to pour from the page and into Elenora’s core. Her body ached. Her cunt yearned. How easily she pictured herself in Sabrina’s position. Resisting the goblins, but only a little. Feeling their little cocks sliding into her hands. Into her mouth. Into her slick cunt.

  She pulled up her nightgown over her knees and up her thighs. She bared her gold-thatched cunt to the hot air of the closet-sized library. The scent of lust was thick in that confined space. Spreading her legs wasn’t enough. She hooked her right leg over the arm of the chair and pushed her left as far as it would go without going over the arm in the other direction. Her fingers found her steamy mound. How big would a goblin’s cock be? One finger? Two? She teased against her aching bud. Thrust a finger into the hot folds of her pussy.

  “OooooooooOOooh,” she crooned, beginning to fuck herself with her fingers. Her gaze returned to the page as she rocked the book against her tummy.

  The goblins rutted with her three at a time. Sometimes four when she was able to get a hand on one of their cocks. Her face and hair were drenched in their spunk. Her breasts slicked and dripping with goblin seed. I could smell the strong aroma of it from my hiding place and understood well the arousal that Sabrina was feeling caught in such a flood of the heady muck.

  They rutted and unloaded their sperm into her again and again until their seed began to froth around each goblin cock and spill in foamy gobs down her thighs. Was it enough to give her a goblin child? A litter? If the time was right for Sabrina, well, I did not doubt the potency of goblin seed. It could make a barren woman pregnant under the right circumstances.

  The thought of being not just used and violated by a goblin but claimed by the seed of one of the creatures excited Elenora to the brink. Her fingers squelched into her soaking cunt. Her pleasure built to the trembling edge. She cried out with pleasure and arched atop the chair. She was almost there. She was almost Sabrina being rutted and seeded by half the goblins of the Fire Skull Tribe.

  “Yesssss,” moaned Elenora, thrusting against her fingers. “Yes! Use me! Breed me! Fuck meeeee—”< br />
  Her cries of ecstasy were suddenly interrupted by the opening of the door to Severinn’s secret library. The white-haired wizard stood in the doorway, staring in wide-eyed fury at Elenora’s frantic finger fucking. She stiffened. Stopped. Her orgasm crashing through her as she tried to hide it. Squeezing her thighs together. Desperately pulling up her nightgown to cover her breasts.

  It didn’t matter how quickly and desperately she covered herself. Severinn had already seen what she was doing and, judging by the book that dropped heavily from her lap onto the floor, he would have a fairly good guess why she was doing it.

  “M-Master Severinn,” she said, her face a deep shade of red. “I was just, um, straightening up and, um, saw some marks that, ah, that…”

  “Get out of that chair!” shouted Severinn. “Give me the key! Get to your bed! I will speak with you on this matter in the morning!”

  Her cunt still trembling with pleasure, Elenora leaped to her feet and staggered past Severinn. She pressed the key to the forbidden library into his withered old hand and averted her gaze from his fury.

  In bed, alone, stewing between her thighs, she cried and reckoned with the fact that a part of her wished Severinn had punished her there in the forbidden library. Spanked her over his knee or punished her with his cock. She’d seen it before, glimpsed through an open door. Long and veiny with a very red cap and huge, droopy, white-haired bollocks. She would have cum for him. She would have pleasured him like Sabrina pleasured the goblins.

  No such luck. Severinn was a sexless old wizard. His thoughts in books and not the dirty entertaining sort of books either. Boring ritual casting treatises and spell books to transmute substances or accelerate crop growth.

  He did not even chastise her in the morning, but sternly called her into his study and sat her down across from him at his desk. The key to the forbidden library sat on a red velvet cloth.

  “Master, please, allow me to apologize. I didn’t…”

  He held up a hand and her words trailed off.

  “There is no point discussing what happened last night,” said Severinn. “However, it brings to a point something that has been on my mind for several months now. You have been with me for five years—”

  “Six, master,” interjected Elenora.

  “Yes, right, six years,” said Severinn. “You have learned conjuring, abjuring, enchanting, and divining to an acolyte’s skill level. I could teach you another school or perhaps instruct you in the mastery of one school in particular. Perhaps someday I will. But it has become clear to me that the time for that is not now, Elenora. You have grown into womanhood and should be out in the world. It is time for your Caster’s Journey.”

  He lit his pipe and puffed out a cloud of purple smoke that formed into the shape of a dragon. She watched it rise above his desk and break apart into the air. She had known this conversation was coming. He had been hinting at it for the better part of a year.

  “Every sorceress or sorcerer must embark on the Caster’s Journey not long after their eighteenth year. You are twenty as of last month. You are past due to embark.” He puffed on the pipe again and the smoke took the shape of a sailboat. “Have you given thought to where you would like to go? Perhaps to Whitebridge? It is a large settlement with many spellcasters. You will find others like you who might be able to impart knowledge. From there, you can explore the world.”

  “Yes, that sounds… that sounds like a wise course of action, master,” said Elenora, her blush still hot in her cheeks.

  “Very well then, child,” he said, smiling in his kindly way. “You will take your spell book and this gold that your parents left to you.”

  He placed the velvet-wrapped book and a small leather pouch onto his desk.

  “Travel south to Whitebridge. I will provide you with a map, a horse, a magic compass, and the name of a wizard I know in the city. I think it is best if you leave immediately after breakfast.”

  Elenora’s excitement was too great to eat. She embraced Severinn the White Haired, thanked him for all he had done to teach her magic, and she bid him farewell. He watched from the door of his tower, leaning heavily against his staff as she rode south over the hills.

  But Elenora had no intention of riding to Whitebridge. Her interests were far to the northwest. The spring thaw was upon the land and conditions would not be too harsh for a crossing. She could hire a fisherman to take her across the Stormwrack Sea. To the monster island of Kurandan.

  To the goblins.

  2

  The Book and the Fisherman

  It was most of a day’s ride west to the nearest fishing village. It was a tiny, ramshackle settlement called Johaak of less than a hundred houses, a tavern, and a small dockyard nestled in a shallow bay. The only trade in the town was for the fish. There were small silver fish called “white eyes” that were caught by the thousands in huge nets by trawlers and big, alligator snouted predators called “saw snouts” that were prized but difficult to hook or spear.

  Elenora found Johaak easily enough in the late afternoon. The winter cold had gone and the sea was free of ice, but there was enough chill in the air that she was eager to get off her horse. She climbed down from her weary mare and paid for the horse to be fed and watered. While her mount was being tended, Elenora walked the docks in search of a fisherman in the village who was willing to brave crossing the Stormwrack all the way to Kurandan.

  The gruff fishing folk met her questions about passage to Kurandan with stony gazes and grim shakes of their heads. When she pressed them about the matter, they either told her to leave them alone or offered to give her a warm spot in their beds. It was plain that these men coveted her body. The way her fur-lined cloaked parted just enough for them to glimpse her deep, soft cleavage and the mounds of her breasts straining at her bodice. She wore high riding boots and dusty breeches that clung to her hips and thighs.

  They wanted her, so she showed herself to them. Leaned in such a way as to hold their attention. Spoke in a soft, sweet voice that made them lean closer. It wasn’t much longer before she finally had the answer she wanted.

  “Aye, I can take ye to Kurandan,” said a potbellied blond giant with a nearly white beard. He called himself Yosef and was the owner of a roughly patched old sloop called Fair Fortune. His voice was loud and deep as he added, “I’ve fished waters near to there. Near enough to see the things what dwell on its shores. But it will cost you to make me return to that place.”

  “I have gold,” said Elenora, holding up her inheritance.

  Yosef snatched it from her hand. He hefted the sack and looked inside.

  “Hmmm,” he said and took hold of her wrist. “A start. Come aboard. I’ll need something else in payment.”

  “What do you mean? Something else?”

  But she knew what he meant without him speaking an answer and Yosef was not shy about getting it. He led her belowdecks into the small cabin and his hands were everywhere. He kissed her then, in the dark cabin, stinking of the fish he’d been handling moments before they met. His touch was rough. His kiss was seasoned with brandy. His whiskers tickled against her lips as he pushed her cloak from her shoulders. His thick fingers fumbled with the laces of her bodice.

  “Damned thing,” he muttered a moment before he pulled open the laces and freed Elenora’s plump breasts. His hands were on them in an instant, squeezing and shaping them as he pleased. He leaned his head down to her, his beard scratchy against her sensitive skin. His kiss hot against the swell of her breasts. Against her nipples. Kissing them. Licking them. Sucking them so hard that they ached and sent pleasure pulsing to her clit.

  “Please,” gasped Elenora, pushing at Yosef’s broad shoulders. “We did not discuss this!”

  “Part of the deal,” he growled, his big hands already working feverishly at her trousers. “You spend the night with me. Then I’ll take you across the Stormwrack.”

  He said something else, but he spoke it with his scruffy face buried against her tits. Elenora could only moan and accept his terms.

 

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