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Title Page - ARe

1: Faerie Slave Fuck

About - Smashwords

Pimp My Nymph

Volume 1: Faerie Slave Fuck

Leandra J. Piper

Copyright 2012 by Leandra J. Piper


All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used without the express written permission of the author or publisher for any purposes, except brief quotations in critical articles or reviews.



Ever since his parents had died, Ashendis, Lord Marain, had been swamped with news, and none of it good. He sifted through yet another letter demanding payment for the former Lord and Lady's expenditures, then just buried his face in his hands. He paid off one and another two sprang up.

A noble house in good standing wouldn't have such trouble with it, but the family's estates were close to the front, and had been alternately stripped to provision the armies and razed to prevent being used for that. They wouldn't produce anything for years, if they ever did again. Ash dug the heels of his palms into his eyes, as if that would make the stacks of parchment go away. Some of this spending had been beyond excessive, too. Paying for his family's legitimate expenses was bad enough, but now he'd been caught needing to deal with the strings of shadier and shadier deals his father had made as his health deteriorated.

With the estates milked dry, he'd had to turn to stripping the townhouse in order to make up these debts. If paying them off beggared him, it would be better than if he wound up dead or worse from non-payment. He'd stripped every room he could, leaving most of the building to fall into disrepair. But there was no income to that; once a furnishing had been sold off, there wasn't any more coming from it after.

"Excuse me, my Lord," came the meek voice of his one remaining family heirloom. The nymph Anthea was certainly the most expensive thing he owned, which made her nearly impossible to sell. The elder fae sold them off but rarely, for reasons only they could fathom, and they were quickly snapped up. In better times, a slave who would so readily follow any order and live to be passed down for several generations was a valuable commodity, but the war had tightened everyone's pockets. No, he was stuck with her, thank all the gods that whatever she fed on was nothing he needed to pay for.

Ash looked up and waved her over. She was carrying another damnable slip of parchment, sealed with dark wax. He rubbed his forehead and sighed. "What is it? Bring that here." He held a hand out for it, dreading the inevitability of its contents.

She placed the letter in his hand, fingers brushing lightly against his. She clasped her hands together lightly before herself once he took it, eyes properly downcast. "A courier brought it for you, master. He said to give it to you directly, but nothing more." He caught her sneaking a peek up at him as he looked down at the seal, trying to recognize the mark. He considered chastising her for it but dismissed the notion. Her behaviour was flawless otherwise, and her fate was in question, much as he put off the notion of selling her off for far less than she was worth. As differently as the fae saw the world, she had to be aware of that much.

No good. He couldn't recognize the seal at all. Ash sighed and broke it, unfolding the fine parchment. He did groan upon reading it, pinching the bridge of his nose. He'd been brought down to needing to pay the dwarfs for the jewels his father had draped his mistresses in. Had that damnable man not paid for anything in the last few years of his life? And of course those women had long since made off with the jewels. And why the dwarfs? The dwarfs could be reasonable, but when they got fed up with you, they came at you with axes. Ash threw his head back in sheer frustration, and in that moment the glimpse he caught of the slender, obedient nymph that awaited a word from him. He nearly fell back in his chair, then caught himself, stupefied for a moment.

The idea was so obvious, he wondered why it never occurred to him before. The stress, maybe? He beckoned the nymph closer with a single crooked finger, then turned a critical eye on her. Her dress was threadbare and worn, faded to no particular colour. Her collar still gleamed, though, the sigil-wrought silver that marked bound nymphs. Anthea herself had gotten more than a little grimy in recent times too, dedicatedly trying to keep the house clean from dust and dirt, even the rooms that had been gutted and stripped bare. Ash reached out, lifting a strand of her rosy, strawberry blonde hair. Somehow it had managed to stay free of dirt, but it felt greasy from lack of maintenance. She looked up at him through her lashes, enough that he could see the curiosity there, even though she avoided eye contact.

"Anthea," he said, raising a hand to cup her cheek securely, lifting her chin to look into violet-blue eyes. They gleamed still, vivid and bright. Her breath came hot on his palm, as he rubbed her other cheek with his thumb. With a good bathing and laundering, there might be promise here. "You know we're in bad shape here, right?" She just nodded, her bright eyes looking up at his, cheek warming to his touch. A lot of promise. He gave her cheek a rub and a pat before lowering his hand, leaving her chin up. "I treat you well, don't I?" Another nod, her pink tongue darting out to wet her lips. "You wouldn't want me to sell you, right? Things are bad everywhere right now. Someone who'd buy you right now would probably..." He trailed off as fear flickered into her eyes, breath quickening. She shook her head, a quick, tight motion. He nodded, then snapped her fingers at her. "Take your dress off. Let me get a look at you."

She started at that, her trained composure breaking for a moment. "Master?" She asked. He nodded to the lower hem of her dress. Her tongue touched her lips again, then she nodded, bending. In a single, graceful motion, she pulled the shapeless, grimy dress up and off. She folded it neatly, then set it down on the floor by her feet. Her whole body curved into standing up, almost pulled by a flutter of her thin, translucent wings. Shoulders squaring back and straight, her hands joined together again at her waist. She was cleaner underneath her clothes, at least. Ash rose smoothly, looking over her slender body. Not very curvy, but of course the fae wouldn't be. He reached out, cupping a firm, smooth breast in one hand, making her gasp at the contact. He nearly did too; it was warm and satiny-smooth against his hand, filling it pleasantly. Her nipple swiftly came to a firm point as he rubbed it just so, enjoying the feel. He slowly moved behind her, lifting his other hand to her bared breast. He slowly palmed and massaged them both as he looked her over from behind, taking in the rounded shape of her backside and the slender, dragonfly-like wings that came to an end atop them.

Anthea was gasping again from his touch to her breasts, subtly leaning forward to press against them. He leaned forward, whispering into her long, curved ear, "You like this, Anthea?" She made another gasp as he pinched her nipples, and she nodded twice, in quick succession. He lowered one hand slowly, feeling her taut, smooth stomach, her skin trembling as she began to breathe harder. "Tell me it's good," he breathed in her ear. Her wings fluttered a little, brushing against his body as they flexed.

"It's," she whispered, then gasped, as his hand crept lower, "it's good, master." He sidled around her to face her once more, looking at her flushed cheeks and goose-bumped skin. He could feel himself getting hard, just feeling and watching her, listening to the intoxicating tenor of her breathy voice. He knew she saw it, too, the way her eyes darted down his body, and her hands shifted just a bit toward him. "Master, what do you wish of me?" she asked, her voice curling in his ears. "Master, may I touch you?"

He was growing harder by the moment. Ash hesitated; he was hardly one to take advantage of a slave. But, he had to know if this shred of an idea had a chance. And now that she was bare before him, palms up, entreating, oh, he wanted her. "Yes," he whispered, hands sliding over her slender hips, palming her warm skin. He eased one hand to feel between her thighs, and inhaled at the velvet-softness of her skin there, damper the higher he went.

She made a thin noise of her own, then lifted her hands, daring to undo his shirt with long, delicate fingers. She slowly palmed his chest once she got him out of the shirt, her fingers spreading out, exploring the contours of his body. He slid his fingers up to her warm pussy lips, feeling the slick wetness there. Her back arched hard, wings fluttering back as she made a sharp gasp, pressing down against his hand. As his fingers slipped in between her tight lips, he whispered, "You may be the key to solving these problems, Anthea."

Anthea made a short moan, hands jumping against his chest. He slipped his fingers out of her, then picked her light, delicate body up by the bottom, backing her toward the wall of the study. She waited until he had he pressed against the wall before undoing his pants, letting them fall to the ground. "Master," she gasped thinly, lifting a leg and wrapping it about his waist. Her hands slid, pressing to his shoulders.

Her leg was placed just so that his cock-head was pressing right against her unfurling lips. Just that smear of her juices on him there sent an intoxicating rush through his body. Her chest was heaving against his, tight coral-pink nipples pressing tightly to his skin. Still, with all the will he could muster, he hesitated, looking to her face. He had never been one to use a slave this way, even now, and he felt a twinge of nervousness at it. But her face was flushed and eager, and her hands slid down his back in enticement. No, there was no need for Ash to hesitate. He thrust up into her, hard to press into her tight, wet pussy.

She was unlike any human he'd ever felt, tighter in a way that squeezed him close. His back arched as he pushed all the way into her. The moan she made was a thin, siren note that clung to his ears that called him to start thrusting into her, pushing her hard back against the wall. It felt like her fingers were everywhere on his back, leaving thin trails of heat behind them that made his breath rush harder. "Master..." she cooed in his ear. "Oh, master, yes..."

Ash squeezed her bottom tighter, pulling her even more against his thrusting. Her other leg lifted, so they both gripped his waist tightly. She weighed nearly nothing, like this. He pressed his chest tighter against hers, savouring the pressure of her nipples. "Can you do this," he panted, as her tight, smooth pussy squeezed relentlessly around him, matching the timing of his thrusts."Can you do this, Anthea... with anyone? Whomever... I tell you?"

Her moans came in a breathy rush against his neck and the pressure of her legs around his waist tightened. "Oh, oh, master!" she gasped, as she stroked his back with her hands. "Yes, oh! Whatever, anything you need me to do, master!" Her body thumped against the wall from the force of his thrusts, and she leaned her head back to press against it.

Anthea's face was rapt with ecstasy, her tongue pressed to her pink lips, lifting and jumping with every moan she made. Her eyes were fixed tightly on his face, as if studying every detail. Ash found himself looking right into them, the only thing he could see after a moment. He'd never felt so focused in his life; his eyes on hers, and all the rest of the world his cock thrusting endlessly into her, the feeling of slickness tight around his length the most important thing in it. He groaned with the pleasure of it, a low counterpoint to her high, sweet moans.

He came, all in a rush, startling himself with the force of it. She pumped it all out of him, with her deft, powerful squeezes, and his back arched. She moaned too, long and gaspy, her fingers trembling against his back. He leaned his head forward, panting against her shoulder, breaking eye contact with her. Her chest was heaving against his, fluttering like a leaf as she gulped heavily for air. "M-master," she whispered sweetly.

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Faerie Slave Fuck