Archive for the ‘Illustrated Erotica’ Category

Parole Officer’s Bitch

paroleofficersbitchweb“Come here, you gangster punk. Over my knees. Pants down.”

Parolee Martos keeps screwing up.  His domineering PO will let him slide—but the price gets severe with his second violation.

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“Your ass is mine, Martos!” said my dickhead parole officer.

I sat slumped on the chair in front of his desk with my legs open wide.  Sort of a ‘suck my dick’ position, because that’s what this asshole could do so far as I was concerned.  I smacked my lips and then lifted my nose at him in a threatening way.

“The fuck you talking about?”  He was blowing smoke out his ass.  These parole officers were all the same.  Got balls so big they could hardly—

“Your piss test came back positive for marijuana!”

My heart fell out of my chest.  For a second all I could do was sit there staring at him with my mouth gaping open.  If my skin wasn’t a nice café ole color this asshole might have seen how pale I got.

Naw, man, this ain’t even happening.  I took one toke on one joint five days ago.  You telling me that shit going to show up on a piss test after all this time?

I sat up and closed my legs some.  “That ain’t possible.”

“Oh, shut the fuck up!”  Man this guy was a prick.  He was one of those guys who shaved his head bald, though on the outs I was learning that didn’t always mean skinhead.  He was mid-thirties and thick, so you’d figure he was fat, but I didn’t see any kind of gut on him.  I really couldn’t tell if he was mostly muscle or pudge under his long sleeve button down shirt.  Either way, he was one of those school-yard bullies who got a taste for fucking with people early.  His dad probably used to beat his little punk ass even worse than my dad did mine.  He was bigger than me, probably six inches taller and 75 pounds heavier, but there’s no way he was as built.  My body was nothing but lean muscle.  I bet I could kick his ass, easy.

“You smoked weed, you idiot!  Plain and simple.  You’re out of the can one month and you got cocky.  Now you’re going to pay for it.”

“Pay how?”

He sneered.  “Oh, you’ll see when the marshals get here.”

My eyes nearly popped out of my head.  I sat up on the edge of the chair.

“You’re going to revoke me over such petty shit?”

“Yeah!”  He slammed his hand down on his desk.  “You’re not even trying to straighten out!  You knew that shit would violate you, but you did it anyway.  You’re just out to have as much fun as you can before I get fed up and revoke you.  Well guess what?  I’ve got too many cases, too many guys actually trying to get their shit together to waste my time with little shits who think they can smoke weed while on parole.”

“No, man—that’s not how it is.  I’m getting money together to do this mobile oil change business thing.  I’m trying to go straight.”

He made a little talking person with his hand while rolling his eyes.

“I’m serious, motherfucker!  I need to get my sister and her kid out of that slum before a fucking stray bullet ends up killing them.”

“Then you shouldn’t have smoked fucking weed!”

“So I fucked up!  I admit it.  This ain’t worth sending me back to prison over.  Give me at least one more fucking chance, for fucks sake!”

He fixed his narrow eyes on me.  “Why should I?”

He was asking for real—hearing me out now.  His face was kind of pouty—bitchy.  I didn’t put my finger on it before, but his voice, the way he moved his hands when he talked, he might be gay.  One of the other officers here was a creep who made his guys do shit for him.  Maybe this guy was the same?  Nah—probably not.

“So I can help my sister and her kid,” I said.

“She’s better off without you.”

Now I spoke through my clenched teeth.  “Not in that fucking slum.”

“I’ll think about it.  Now get the fuck out of my office.”

I had my mouth open wide again.  That’s how it is, you power-tripping motherfucker?  You just going to make me sweat it?

Instead of getting up I let myself sink back into the chair.  My legs got wide again.  He stared at me with his pissy bitch face.

“You know, man—I heard you was a freak.”

His eyebrows went up.

“Bet you didn’t know—I’m kind of a freak, too.”  I wasn’t even lying.  I’d gotten freaky with my little bitch cellmate while I was down.  The two of us had something special after ten years inside together.  About four months before I got out we went buck-wild.  I started letting him stick it into me, and that ended up being how we fucked every time because I liked it so much.

Lucassen (that was this asshole’s name, by the way) spoke real slow and never stopped sneering.  “You got me mixed up with O’Reilly.”

I didn’t flinch.  “Pssh.  I don’t know about that.”  I folded my arms behind my head and leaned back.  “You said my ass was yours when I come in here.  Maybe you ought to go on and take it, motherfucker.  Might be just what you need.  Get you more relaxed.  You’re obviously stressing your shit.”

Lucassen laughed.  He tented his fingers together with a grin that made me get chills down my back.  “Well, well, well—the gangster’s willing to play.”

“I ain’t no gangster no more, motherfucker.”

“Maybe you actually do care about that sister of yours, if you’re willing to go this far.”

“I do fucking care.”

Lucassen stared at me with this half sneer, half smile on his face.  The asshole was really thinking about it.  Fine, motherfucker.  Whatever it took to stay out of prison.

I brought my tongue out and licked my top lip.  This made the fucker blush.  I knew I was a hot piece of ass.  He was probably creaming his jeans right now.

He got up suddenly.  A real sick feeling of tightness hit me between the shoulders.  Lucassen went to the door.  I turned back figuring he was going to open it for me to make me get the fuck out of there.  Instead he locked it.

Aw, shit.  I didn’t figure I was going to have to give him my ass for real.  Now that tightness moved down to my stomach and clenched hard.  Fuck.  I ain’t going to do this shit, man.  I’d rather knife the fucker.

Naw—think about Daniela and Hector.  They need you.

“You know, I don’t particularly like our system,” Lucassen said while coming back to his desk.  He was real smug now.  “If I revoke you on marijuana you’ll get 30 days maximum and then be right back out to fuck up my case load again.  You won’t learn anything.  What’s 30 days after you served 18 years?  Useless.  Those aren’t the kind of consequences that will make a gangster scumbag change.”  He got a key out of the pull-out tray on his desk and leaned down to unlock a drawer.

“I told you.  I ain’t no fucking gangster no more.”

Lucassen came back up holding a big wooden paddle.  My eyes got huge again.

“This is the kind of consequence your punk ass needs.”

“Holy fuck.”  I couldn’t believe this shit.  “You going to spank me?”

His eyes turned crazy for a second.  “Yeah.”

I made a face like a bird had shit on me.  “Aw, fuck…”  I felt like my stomach was sinking straight out of me now.  What the fuck had I talked my way into?  The asshole was probably not even going to revoke me.  Now I had to do some humiliating shit?  How the fuck could I get out of this?

“I’ve got other appointments!”  He rolled back his chair so that it touched the wall behind him.  “Come here.  Over my knees, pants down.”

I probably went white for real now.  “Pants down?”  Somehow I forced myself to get up.

“You heard me.  Hurry the fuck up!”

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A scrawny Princeton freshman gets sent to prison where he becomes the property of a powerful yet compassionate inmate.  FOR ADULTS ONLY.

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While sitting in class at the start of my second semester at Princeton a small baggy of cocaine fell out of my coat pocket.  The kid behind me sent a text to campus security.  They nabbed me right when I was walking out of class.

“My dad is the CEO at Chase Manhattan,” I said, while seated in their bullshit interrogation chair.  “Call him, for fuck’s sake.  He’ll straighten this all out.”

“No problem.  We’ll call him,” the female security guard said.

“Good.  Because you know you’d have your asses handed to you if you let this blow up.”

In a few minutes I heard the chatter from a cop’s radio heading toward me.  The fuckers had called the police.

I’d hit the NYC club scene in a massive way once I’d gotten to college.  To make sure the doors were open for me at the hottest parties I always tried to have a few grams of coke.  The dealer at Princeton was unreliable.  After a long dry spell I managed to pin him down and bought his whole supply: fifty grams, each in their own little baggies.  I figured I’d be good for a while.  I crammed them in my coat pocket and went to class.

This was how my life got fucked up.

It’s a humbling experience getting bailed out of jail by a father who was way too busy at his job to deal with such bullshit.  I told him the same thing I told the cops.  I wasn’t dealing.  These were just my VIP passes to the best parties in Manhattan.  He was furious, but he knew, the same as I knew, that the drug trafficking charges would be dropped.  People like me didn’t go to prison.

Except it was an election year, and the economy sucked, and nothing helps a candidate better in a bad economy than making sure some privileged white kid gets treated the same as every scumbag out there.

They tried to get me to plead guilty to drug trafficking and take the mandatory minimum five year sentence for Federal charges.  Fuck that!  I wanted the charges dropped to a misdemeanor and to pay a fine.  My dad wouldn’t even consider their offer.  They threatened to tack on the New Jersey State mandatory minimum of 25 years for trafficking cocaine if we went to trial.  My attorney said to call their bluff.  I wasn’t trafficking shit.  Why would someone as rich as me be selling drugs?  He was sure he could get me off.

We lost.

I got sentenced to 25 years at Palville Correctional Facility.  Yes, there actually is a fucking prison called Palville in the ass-crack town of Palville which my dad informed me was convenient to precisely nowhere.  I guess it was his way of saying not to expect many visits.

When you get a sentence this huge you don’t get to walk free after your trial and self-surrender when your sentence starts later.  I was crammed into a crowded sweaty holding cell attached to the courthouse with nothing but concrete to sleep on and no fucking toilet paper for the metal thing in the corner called a toilet.  Not that it mattered much.  I ate hardly any of the crap they tried to pass off as food.

No, actually, the eight days I spent in this Hell cell was where I got over the shock of losing the trial and finally considered the prospect of doing time.  My stay in the jail showed me I was not the jail type.  First off, I was white and twelve out of the fifteen guys in here with me were black.  Second, I was an eighteen-year-old kid.  Everyone else here had at least ten years on me.  Most of them looked strung out, including the two other white guys.  The last thing, and by far the worst, was that I was skinny and short.  Weekly cocaine use is great for weight loss and my family had an ‘aristocratic build.’

“Shit, boy, how you going to save your white ass in prison?”  This guy, named Roderick or something, wasn’t mocking me.  He was actually sympathetic when I told him my situation.

I felt like my stomach dropped out of the center of me.  The chance of rape had been an itch of worry in the back of my skull.  I hadn’t let it surface until this guy—who looked like he’d done time—started talking about it.

“Guys don’t really get raped in prison, do they?  That’s just a myth people spread around or—”

“Boy,” this other guy was twice the size of Roderick and so black you couldn’t read his tattoos, “you better get yourself educated if you’re going to fucking max security.  They damn sure do rape in prison.  It’s a regular fucking occurrence.”

“It’s medium security,” I said, despite the stab of shock I felt.

“Medium’s worse!  More opportunity in medium.  More places to jump a bitch.”

“Shut the fuck up!” said some guy trying to sleep.  I didn’t see who.

“Fuck you, motherfucker!”

I tensed up at the threat of imminent violence, but that was the end of it.  After a few minutes my heart rate settled down and I got to go back to thinking about how I was going to have my rectum torn apart by gangs of diseased monsters who were even worse than the derelicts in this cell.

My fear turned into a sick delirium over the rest of my time there.  I saw myself in the reflection of the empty paper towel dispenser and realized how shockingly white my skin had turned.  Fear had paralyzed me—made me numb.  I wanted to try to turn it into action, but what the fuck could I do?  What could a skinny white kid do to protect himself in prison?  I didn’t have any money here.  My dad’s name didn’t mean shit.

I was helpless.


The guard acted like he was giving good news when he announced the marshals had finally come to take me to Palville.  Yes, it was Hell in the holding cell, and if my 25 years (not accounting for good time) was there I would have found a way to kill myself.  However, at least I knew what to expect in that shithole.  The only thing I knew about Palville was that I was at risk of being sodomized.  It seemed like I should try to stay in the Hell Cell as long as I could.

I was carted to a local prison where I got my first strip search.  They made me hold my ass cheeks open, squat, and cough.  This actually didn’t even upset me.  Prior to prison you think strip searches are the most dehumanizing things in the world.  Who gives a fuck?  Spreading your ass cheeks for a disinterested guard was nothing compared to what the real dangers were.  I did it all in robot mode.  It’s easy to capitulate to whatever shit you have to go through when you know that refusal means getting beat down by five guards and getting more years added to your sentence for resisting an officer.  I assumed I’d end up at an even worse prison, too, for being a troublemaker.

They put me in the smallest orange jumpsuit they had, which was still baggy as Hell on me.  My ankles were cuffed with a chain that shortened my stride to baby steps.  My wrists were also cuffed, but to a chain that went around my hips so that my hands were in front of me.  Then I was crammed into a green school bus with three other white guys and three or four dozen black guys.

I glanced around only once and spotted a black guy so big he took up an entire seat by himself.  Picturing this guy mounting me added fuel to my self-pity.  I focused my stare out the window and went numb again.  The only feeling coming through was the sickness in my stomach.  I would have puked if I’d actually eaten something.

About an hour into the ride I realized the guy next to me was shaking with quiet sobs.  He was a young black guy with a clean hair cut.  The men all around us were asleep or looking through the windows.  It was a good chance to sneak out a cry.

I looked at him for a second, feeling confused.  That’s when my face stung like I’d been slapped.  No one had slapped me, except maybe reality.  What the fuck are you confused about?  You think you’re the only one suffering?  I was in a fantasy world where it was me against the rape monsters.  It hadn’t occurred to me that maybe some of the others were feeling as sick and fucked up as I was.  The kid next to me was more human than I was because he still had tears.

It wasn’t all about me.

Epiphanies were for better times and better places.  Yes, I knew I had a lot of growing up to do.  Later.  For now I was in survival mode.  Forget the self-entitled Princeton puke I used to be.  I’d become whoever I needed to be to survive.  The problem was that I didn’t know who that was yet.

When we were dead center to the middle of nowhere the prison came into view.  It was like a castle with long parapet walls connecting to dodecahedron watchtowers.  The two fences we had to go through to get inside looked shiny new.  Even the swaths of razor wire topping them sparkled.  We got to the first building of the complex and the bus parked.  Guards with rifles started barking orders at us.  We got shuffled in for processing into what was apparently a clinic.  One by one we were brought into an examination room where they stamped our skin with a tuberculosis test.  After that the female worker took out a kit to draw blood.  I fucking hated needles.

“What’s that for?”

“HIV test.”


The panic in my face must have sparked some sympathy in her.  She spoke while sticking a vein in the crook of my elbow.

“If you’re HIV positive you’ll get transferred to another prison.  You won’t be allowed to stay in the general population here.”

I should have realized this was good news, since that meant I wouldn’t catch AIDS when I was raped.  All I could think of was why the fuck was she testing me for STDs?

“You…so you…people with AIDS are…”

“Men with HIV are transferred to another prison.”  She pulled out the needle and taped a cotton ball to my arm.  “We don’t want people getting infected here, so we transfer infected inmates out.”

“Infected how?”

She glowered at me.  “Through blood or semen.  You’re done.  Head on that way.”  She pointed to a metal door opposite the one I’d entered.

Guards told us to sit in line against a long corridor wall.  The destination this time was one of two offices handling last names A-M or N-Z.  I thought this was where we were going to get unchained and get our clothes and so forth.  As the men left the offices they were still chained and not carrying anything.  This line went the slowest and some of the guys around me started to complain of hunger.  I perked my ears.

“You think the food’s better here than Downstate?”

“Fuck, what do I know about Downstate?  But it can’t be worse than Attica.”

“Shit.  I heard that.”

“Food here should be top of the line.  It’s a brand new prison, ain’t it?”

Was it?  Everyone knew more than me.  Apparently the bus had been full of transfers.

“That don’t mean shit.  Brand new prisons mean they already blew they fucking budget on teargas tables and fucking riot gear.  Feeding us half-way decent shit ain’t even a priority.”

“What the fuck are teargas tables?  Shit!”

Oh, good.  I wasn’t the only one wondering that.

“Oh Hells yes teargas tables.  These new prisons is all about beating a nigger down.  They got teargas buried in fucking capsules all around the yard, too.  You even give them a look you going to be fucking knocked to the ground.”

“Pssh.  So that’s how it is, huh?”

“Commissary should be good at least.”  This was my crying seatmate.  I’d assumed he and I were kindred spirits of some sort.  Nope.  He was ahead of the game because he knew the word ‘commissary’.  What the fuck was a commissary?  How could they allow someone as clueless as me into this world?  This was cruel and unusual punishment.

“Yeah, they gots to get paid, you know?”

“Long as they got my ramen.”

This caused a few titters of laughter.

“Do you know if we’ll be allowed to smoke here?” a white guy asked this.  Apparently the laughter had built up his courage.

“Naw, man,” the guy with the teargas info said, “you ain’t been able to smoke in prison for ten years now.”

This civilized answer shocked me.  White guys were allowed to talk too?  They wouldn’t be cussed out or threatened?

“Burgess!  Ryan!”

I struggled to get up at the sound of my name.  A balding black man with a clipboard waited for me at the A-M office.  He led the way in and gestured to a chair in front of his desk.  Then he proceeded with my entrance interview.  I got assigned a number, asked about my medical needs, listed what family might visit, and so on.  The important part came when he asked if anyone in the prison posed a risk to my life or physical wellbeing.


He pulled a form out of his desk.  “What’s their name?”

My mouth went dry.  “I don’t know their names.  I’m talking about everyone in here.  I’ve never been to prison before.  I’m a scrawny eighteen-year-old kid.  I mean—look at me.”

He did look, but without sympathy.  “Yeah.  I see you.”  He put the paper away.  “Alright, listen.  There’s some bad characters in here.  There’s some guys who will probably see you as an easy mark.  If someone gives you trouble, you go to a guard and you tell him.  That’s the only way we can help you.”

Perspiration broke out on my temples.  I didn’t know much about prison, but I did know what he was saying was bullshit.  If I got some thug in trouble with the guards then I went from worrying about rape to worrying about murder.

He tapped on his keyboard.  “I’m going to say that you told me you’ve had HIV exposure.  That will get you put into segregation.”

I felt like the heavens had opened up to shoot a ray of sunshine while a chorus of angels sang a single chord.

“That’s just until we get your test results back.”

“What?  How long is that?”

He shrugged.  “Today’s Friday.  We should have your results on Monday or Tuesday.”

I shrank in the chair, crestfallen once again.  Why couldn’t I just serve my whole sentence in segregation?

When he got up to see me out he called to a guard.  “He’s had some exposure.  Put this one in segregation.”

The guard nodded without enthusiasm and gestured the way I should go.

“Shit, no wonder he looks so sickly,” one of the other prisoners said behind me.  “Little bitch has AIDS.”


Segregation was a heavenly four-by-eight-foot cell with a bunk and a toilet/sink combo.  The sink emptied into the toilet tank to become the water you flushed with.  I was given a roll of toilet paper, but my shoes and jumpsuit were taken away.  All they left me with was my tee shirt and boxers.  The latter I had to drop to open my butt cheeks, squat, and cough again.  Then I got to be alone.  Safe and alone, the best situation I could hope for.

Obviously this place was meant to be punishment.  I could see why.  There was nothing to look at, nothing to do, and no one to talk to.  I got on the naked mattress and fell asleep for a good two hours.  It was thin but clean, and a Hell of a lot more comfortable than the concrete in the holding cell.

I got woken up by the slot of my thick metal lattice door creaking open.  A tray, not unlike the molded melamine trays in a high school cafeteria, was pushed halfway through to hover in the air.  I sat up feeling like I still had a few more hours of sleep to catch up on.

“Hey, come get your food.”

The gentle tone told me this was an inmate, not a guard.  I moved fast to receive the tray.  Up close to the lattice I could look through and see the face of a white guy in his early twenties with slicked back ginger hair.  He had dangling earlobes touching both shoulders with giant holes, the remains of the huge gauges he’d used to wear.  He smiled to reveal a gold tooth.

“What’s your name, man?”

“Ryan Burgess.”

“I’m Donnie Sullivan.  You just get here?”

“Yeah.  Couple of hours ago.”

“You’ve got AIDS or TB.  Know how I know?  Cause you get a regular tray instead of scrap cake.”

I glanced at the tray.  There was stuff that actually resembled food in each of the compartments.  The main course was a spaghetti goulash of some sort.

“I’m not actually—you know?  I don’t have anything.”

“Oh, I see.  They just ain’t taking chances because you look so sick, right?”

Did I really look that sick?  I guess eight days of eating almost nothing and nightly panic attacks had taken its toll on me.

“That’s cool,” Donnie said.  “Then you’ll be out of here in a day or two.  Don’t sweat it.”


“I been down sixteen months myself.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, I did time down in Clinton, you know?  This place is a Hell of a lot better.”

“Is it?”

“Fuck yeah.  I know there’s no cum on that mattress yet.  You’re like the second guy they put in here.  Where you from?”


“This your first time down?”


“Yeah you look pretty young.”

My heart was racing.  I felt desperate to connect with this guy.  He wasn’t too different from me, right?  Sure, he was filled out more, older, and tougher looking, but wasn’t he a mark, too?  He didn’t look destroyed.  He was managing.  Maybe there was hope for me.

“How are you getting by here?  Do you know what I’m saying?  I have like no idea about anything here.  I’m scared shitless.”  I probably shouldn’t have added that last bit.  It just came out.  Tears were built up behind my eyes, but I at least managed to hold them back.

Donnie snorted with a laugh.  “Yeah, you’re green as fuck.”  He looked away from me.  “Uh oh, shark’s swimming by.  I’ll come check you later, all right?  I’ll get you something to read.”

He moved out of view and I heard a metal cart clang away.  Depression dragged down on my heart once again, but there was food and it looked edible.  I hunkered over to my bed and ate my first solid meal since the trial.


“You know, it’s just the same as anywhere else.  There’s good guys and there’s bad guys.  You’ll figure out who’s who pretty quick.”

Donnie, true to his word, had come back with a short stack of magazines for me.  He sat on the floor outside my cell with his body parallel to the door.  I sat with my back against the wall and my knees bent in front of me.

“Stick with your own race, I mean, that’s a given.  It don’t matter if you’re not racist.  It’s just how it goes.  Don’t talk to a black guy unless you got a reason to, and if you got a reason to, keep it short and don’t try to be his friend.  Asians and Puerto Ricans are different, I mean, the ones who speak English.  They’re pretty much lumped in with the whites cause there’s so few of us.  Except when it comes to the Aryans, of course.  But they don’t care if they see a white guy friends with an Asian or Puerto Rican.  Just don’t get friendly with the blacks.  They see a white guy and a black guy playing checkers—well, you might get a warning because they figure you’re new and don’t know nothing, but if you ignore the warning you’re going to get yourself stuck.”

I absorbed his every syllable as though I’d just gotten religion.  I wished I had some way to take notes.  This was gold, solid fucking gold, and every word was cooling the heat of my terror by one degree.

“I mean if you work with a black guy it’s fine for you to be friendly with him at work, but don’t be hanging out with him on your off hours, you know?”

“That’s no problem.  I’m more worried about, you know, getting raped or some shit.”

“Yeah, you’re going to look pretty good to a lot of guys who been down a long time.  Shit, I could see Cheeto and Griz fucking falling in love with you the moment you hit the dining hall.  Griz’d probably get on his knees and propose marriage!”  He turned away to laugh at the thought.  I didn’t find it funny.  “Naw, for real, you got to watch your shit.  You got to use a little common sense, you know?  Rape is just as illegal in prison as it is outside of prison and everyone knows this.  Even if a guy is already down for life he doesn’t want to do all his time in segregation.  Everyone who wants you is going to be like, ‘How can I fuck this kid and get away with it?’  If they try a gangbang you might be screaming and then a shark will come, you know?  For a gangbang type deal they’re going to need to get you alone, where there’s a bunch of them at once, where there ain’t no sharks swimming.  Don’t put yourself in that situation.  These usually ain’t crimes of opportunity.  It’s premeditated and they need you fall for their bullshit.  If it don’t seem right, then it ain’t right.  Don’t be stupid.”

I swallowed down a hard lump.

“More than likely, it ain’t going to be so dramatic, you know?  You’re going to have guys asking to be your daddy.  Saying to you, ‘Hey, you want to be my kid?  I can protect you and get you shit.’  There’s lots of guys in arrangements.  Some guys just survive that way.  This ain’t a rape situation.  You’re giving and you’re getting and you’re surviving.  Some guys get by their whole time just giving head.  It ain’t the worst thing in the fucking world.  Unless he starts renting your ass out.  That’s a fucking raw deal.  I got no respect for fuckers like that.  A boy’s ass is worth more than a six pack of ramen and an Eskimo pie.”

I groaned as the nausea pooled back in my stomach.

“I’ll tell you the truth though?  More than likely one of the Aryans or one of the big gang leaders is going to call dibs on you.  It’s not going to be a black guy, so don’t worry about that.  The Aryans would retaliate because you’re white.  If a black guy rapes you he’ll be dead the next day with his dick cut off and shoved down his throat.”

“What do you mean call dibs?”

“Yeah, so, what I’m saying is one of the leaders is probably going to call dibs and that will keep all the small-time cons off you.  You’ll figure out who it is pretty quick.  Hell, I’ll tell you myself if I see it happen.”

I put my face in my hands.  “Fuck.”

“No, dude, actually it’s a good thing.  Well, it depends.  Fuck, when I got here, motherfucking Hershel Wright was saying my ass was his.  We worked together in the machine shop and we were cool, you know?  But it started getting around that I was going to be his kid, and I settled that shit straight up.  I ain’t nobody’s boy.  ‘You’re going to have to rape me, hardcore, and then you’re going to have to kill me.’  He let it go.  I didn’t get collared.  We’re still cool.  But you know, now I see he was doing me a favor laying claim to me early on.  As soon as word got out that I wasn’t going to be his kid this big fucker tried to pin me in the kitchen and I had to jab a broomstick in his sternum.  After that no one fucked with me.  Now I got friends.  If someone fucks with me they’re going to get retribution.  We take care of each other.”

I rubbed my hands over my face and started rocking back and forth like an autistic person.  “I’m not going to be able to fight some big fucker off me.”

“What the fuck are you doing, Sullivan?”

A female guard came into my frame of view.  I slid the magazines under my ass.

Donnie looked up at her.  “Aw, I’m just making a friend.”

“Now you know damn well you can’t talk to the guys in seg.”

“He’s an AIDS case.”

The woman clucked her tongue.  “Why are they sending these people up here?  They know we’re just going to turn around and send them right back to Medical.”  She gave his thigh a light kick.  “You still can’t be sitting here gabbing.”

“Just a little while longer, Thibodeau, come on.  The kid’s dying.”

She pointed her finger at him.  “Don’t be late for count.”  Then she walked away.

“Yeah, I’m going to have to go in a couple of minutes.”

I panicked.  “What am I supposed to do if some guy calls dibs on me?”

“Just hope its one of the stand-up guys.  I wouldn’t want one of them crazy lieutenants after you.  There’s some bad fuckers up in C block who could really fuck you up.  There’s a bunch of stand up guys, too, though.  Hershel Wright already got himself a boy, but you know, everyone respects Ray Harrison and his crew.  Bob O’Reilly is a stand up guy, getting old though, ain’t got much teeth left to his bite.  Tin Horse can be mean but him and his crew is solid.”  Donnie scratched his chin.  “You know Harrison’s been talking about getting a kid.  There’s a chick here—well, not technically a chick, but that’s what we call guys like that—who’s had eyes on him, but he won’t get serious with her.  He wants someone with a brain in his head.  If Harrison laid a claim on you no one would fuck with you, not even from C block.  Harrison’s got an open line to drugs.  That’s heavy power here, plus he’s generous, and him and his crew were the first ones in this place.  They set the whole tone here, you know?  He’s got a lot of friends.  Lots of allies.  Even with the sharks.”  Donnie’s eyes bulged.  “Shit—I bet you he’d spot me some dope if I gave him the heads up about you.  Cute as you are.”

My heart started racing again.  “I don’t want to be anyone’s boy!”

“Naw, naw—it’s cool.”  He started to get up.  “Harrison’s not a rapist.  This is just you buying time to get some friends.  Get in close with him.  Get yourself safe.”

“No.  Don’t talk about me to anyone!”

“If he doesn’t claim you someone in C block or one of those crazy fucked up lieutenants will!  You want a swastika carved into your back?  Seriously—you don’t know how shit goes down here.  You need friends.  Harrison ain’t going to rape you.  At least not hardcore he won’t.”

“What the fuck does that even mean?”

Donnie was on his feet.  “Got to go.  Count.  I don’t think I’m going to be talking to you no more.  You’re starting to act like an uppity bitch.”

He took off.  I buried my face in my hands and let out something between a scream and a groan.  What the fuck was wrong with me?  I’d trusted the first asshole I met here and now he was auctioning my ass off to the highest bidder.


The silence and the soft bed allowed me to get into a deep enough sleep to have nightmares.  I only remembered the last one: some faceless thug was tickling my throat with the blade of a knife while I was pinned against the wall.  I woke up sure that I could smell his breath, but I was actually smelling my own stink.  A guard shocked me fully awake by banging on the lattice.

“Burgess, get up.  You got thirty minutes to shower.”

The shower episode taught me that I had to get over any notions of privacy.  I was put in a stall with a glass door that everyone could see into, including the guards walking on the mezzanine across from ours.  I was ordered to hand my shirt and shorts through the slot, then I was given a bar of soap, a single blade razor and a paper ketchup cup full of shaving cream.  Of course, I’d never managed to grow facial hair.  The only thing I used to shave was my nuts.

The guard stood with his back to the door appearing bored.  If he’d ogled me I probably would have puked up dinner.  I raced to scrub the layer of scum off my skin while wondering how the showers were going to be out there.

When I was done he slid me a clean towel and fresh underclothes.

“I let you go first since you’re not on punishment,” he said, as though there wasn’t a mortified naked guy behind him.  “You got in while it was still clean.”

The same guard delivered my breakfast later.  I don’t know why he did it instead of an inmate.  I assume it had something to do with it being Saturday.  The meal was a cinnamon roll, an apple with a pockmark on it, a pink bag of milk with an injectable straw, and warm corn goo which I think was grits.  This was not food I would have chosen to eat if I were a free man, however, it was miles above what I expected to get in prison.  I ate every bite.

A good night of sleep, a shower, and a food-fueled body was giving me the strength I needed to deal with my situation.  I wanted to talk to Donnie again, reasonably, and find out what his plan was really going to mean for me.  I didn’t want to think any further than that because then I started making compromises that my brain couldn’t handle.

Maybe he’ll be okay with just handjobs?  No, no, no, fuck no.

My lunch was brought by a muscular white guy in his late forties.  His hair was shaved down to a black spikey mohawk with tattoos covering his exposed scalp.  If I’d seen this guy coming down an alley I would have turned and ran the other way.

“Here, youngster.  Got your lunch.”

He spoke a lot nicer than he looked.  I hurried to receive the tray from him.

“Thank you,” I said, where as normally I would never talk to a guy that looked like this.  I placed a huge amount of value on not offending him.

He took my dirty tray from breakfast.  “How you holding up?”

For the love of God, I did not want to have conversation with this dude.  I sheepishly cleared my throat and kept my tone friendly.

“Oh, I’m fine in here, you know.”

He looked me over for a few moments in a way that made me feel uncomfortable.

“Where’s um, Donnie?”

“Donnie doesn’t work today.  So, Ryan, I know that dumb fuck Malone just stuck you in here because you were scared.  I know you’re not sick.”

My mouth went dry.

“So what’s the story?  This your first time down?”

“Yeah.”  My heart was racing.  I hated this feeling.

“Don’t know your ass from a hole in the ground, huh?”

“Donnie…told me some shit.  I’ll figure it out.”

“I can tell you some shit, too.  Donnie ain’t been here but four months.  Most of his time was at Clinton.  I been here since the day they first opened that fucking gate.”

I felt like my head was swimming.  It was numbness and terror combined.  I swallowed what spit I could and said, “Are you Harrison?”

“Yeah, kid.  I’m Harrison.”

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Alien’s Bride: Lisette

New from Yaoimila and Archie the Red Cat!!

Alien’s Bride:  Lisette

Timid enslaved scientist Lisette is drawn to her austere master Prax-Denay, but he’s from an alien subrace considered too loathsome to breed with humans.  She’s instead pressured to marry his superior, the cruel aristocrat Jorenkis.

The Dak-Hiliah conquered Earth to acquire the single resource they lacked:  women to breed with.  Lisette, one of the few brilliant scientists left in Earth’s war-ravaged population, is plucked from the slave colony to help the scientist Prax-Denay.  Since Lisette’s gifted and obedient her overseer promises she won’t be forced to marry against her will.

But what if she wants to marry?

Both she and her temperamental master are under the thumb of Jorenkis, an overindulged aristocrat who claims rights to Lisette long before she arrives on his planet.  If Lisette were less introverted she’d stand a better chance at deflecting his advances.  Her scientist mentor Prax-Denay looked to be even crueler than Jorenkis, but Lisette’s shy demeanor and impressive skill lights a spark in his eyes that’s reflected in her own.

Something more than mere professionalism prevents Prax-Denay from pursuing her.  Lisette is forced to learn how tyrannical her masters truly are, and how dire her situation has become.

A riveting erotic novella by the author of Alien’s Bride!

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Jorenkis stomped into the laboratory with enough force to agitate the delicate specimen on Prax-Denay’s micro unit.  He managed to stay focused on the short-lived bacterium despite his jaw tensing in anger.  His superior was not only late, but deigned to invade the most delicate area of his lab.

“Let’s talk, Prax.  Come into my office.”


“No.  Now.  And if I were you I’d watch my tone.”

Prax-Denay clenched his teeth and tried to focus on increasing his magnification.  “This specimen is only vital for twelve segments.  Stop disturbing me, you moron.”

“I really couldn’t care less about whatever you think you’re doing,” Jorenkis said.  Prax-Denay knew this was true enough.  The young aristocrat had very little concept of what went on in the lab.  “Put it aside and come into my office.  I’ve decided you’ll need to accept castration if you wish to continue your research.”

Prax-Denay lifted his head from the instrument slowly.  An icy feeling seeped into his stomach and then regurgitated back upwards to turn his saliva cold.  He looked at the spoiled blond Dak-Hiliah whom he’d been forced to work under.  Jorenkis stood with his arms crossed.

“What are you talking about?”

“Oh?  You’re going to listen now?  Your precious specimen not so damn important after all?”

Prax-Denay looked back at his equipment and tried to reason through his hysteria.  Jorenkis was joking or toying with him.  He had to be.  How could anyone be so glib about dismembering another Dak-Hiliah?

But Jorenkis’ caste were the loudest advocates of Etiken castration.  His manservant Shay-Henker had the procedure.  Prax-Denay’s own brother had submitted to it.  Perhaps Jorenkis’ constant revulsion toward him had been because he’d defied that perverse custom.  Was his superior truly so insane?

“Why?” Prax-Denay said.

“Another scientist is joining this lab.  An Earth slave.  A female.”  Jorenkis lifted his nose.  “You’re supposed to be focusing on the physiology of Dak-Hiliah and human hybrids now that we’re interbreeding with them.  This woman is apparently some biology expert.”  He sneered.  “You obviously can’t be around a female…intact.”

“Why not?”  He was yelling.  The fool made his blood boil.

“Really, Prax?  You know why.  And I’m not referring to the old stereotypes.  Our sacred druid decreed—”

“The decree from Druid Archment applies to Dak-Hiliah noblewomen!  Not human slaves!  And only manservants get castrated.  I’m the greatest scientist our people have ever known!”

“Oh, spare me your egotism.  Archment said Etikens may only breed with those within their caste.  If you leave the Etiken district you should be castrated.  That’s the only way to make sure our former high druid is obeyed.”  He drew a long breath.  “Now, concessions were made for you because you’ve apparently produced some work of merit.  Women are practically extinct anyway.  But then, here we are.  A woman is coming to the lab.  She’ll be working with you.  It just has to be done.  It’s irresponsible for me to allow you to be around her otherwise.”

Prax-Denay’s chest heaved as he listened.  He felt himself nearing hyperventilation.

“This is a good thing, Prax.  I know from my experience with Henker that castration really helps with temperament.  Your anger will finally get under control.  Maybe it will help with your attitude, also.”

“Shut up!”  Spittle sprang forth with the shout.  “Don’t claim you’re doing this to obey the fucking druid and then jabber that bigoted drivel!”

Jorenkis scoffed.

“I refuse!  It’s a monstrous request—“

“Monstrous for an Etiken to get castrated?”

“—And if you had any decency you’d know that!”

“Then I’m shutting down the lab.”  Jorenkis shrugged.  “You can go back to the slums.”

“Go ahead and try!  The High Council will never allow it.  You answer to Matoranis and he knows how important my work is.  You’ll shame yourself for even mentioning this request!  You think our new compassionate druid is in favor of Etiken castration?  This could be just the catalyst to get this damned abomination finally banned forever.”

Jorenkis groaned and rubbed his hands over his face.  “Of course you have to make things difficult.  You’re like a child.  You throw a tantrum every time I order you to do anything.”

Prax-Denay trembled with anger.

His superior huffed.  “Fine.  I won’t pursue it.”  His eyes narrowed.  “But let’s get one thing understood:  this woman, scientist or not, is a potential bride.  I’m claiming her.  We’re as good as married.  Got it?”

“That’s a violation of the surrender agreement with Earth.”

“It’s not a violation if she’s willing.  I’m going to charm her into marrying me.  I expect you to be your normal abhorrent self so she’ll hate you as much as I do.  And keep your Etiken hands off her.  I see so much as a pat on her shoulder and I’ll accuse you of trying to seduce her.  I’ll have you shot with a sedative and under a robot surgeon the same day.”

Prax-Denay spoke through his clenched teeth.  “Then I’ll have you shot—with a laser straight through your smug racist head.”

“Psh.  No you won’t.”  He turned on his heel and left.

Prax-Denay still trembled.  After several moments he forced himself to check the specimen.  Of course it was dead.

There was no need of a second scientist in his lab.  She was just an excuse for Jorenkis to subjugate him.  He loathed the thought of a bumbling slave meddling with his instruments.  Even worse was the threat she represented.  How could Jorenkis speak of castration?  He was disgusting.

Prax-Denay wasn’t some lowly manservant and nor was he the animalistic sex fiend his ancestors were unfairly portrayed as.  He was the discoverer of Instajant vaccine.  Every Dak-Hiliah, nay, nearly every species in the universe, owed him a debt of gratitude.

Hopefully Jorenkis would hurry up and marry the human wretch so the repugnant threat she represented to him could be removed.

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Maelstrom Compilation!! Limited Time!

Yaoi fans have waited for years to see a compilation set for Maelstrom, Yamila Abraham’s greatest yaoi hit ever!  It’s finally here—BUT ONLY FOR A LITTLE WHILE! Learn why this series is such a big hit below!

Maelstrom Compilation Set

This is the ENTIRE EIGHT PART Maelstrom Series!  Demetri knows giving in to Malstrum’s desires will protect his band of miners, but the heterosexual Earthling will struggle with violent courtship rituals on a planet devoid of women.

Demetri messed up in the military and now must serve as a miner on Earth’s ally planet Secren. This is the last place he wants to be.  Earth men are considered small and cute to the violent Secren men.  Demetri already ran a mine on the ice world Donovan.  This gives him enough notoriety for mine overlord Malstrum to take an interest in him.

It seems cut and dry that he’s going to rebuff Malstrum and make it on his own, but Secren is a brutal world.  The male population are all slave miners desperate to reach their quotas.  As an Earthling Demetri is an easy mark to get robbed or killed.

Giving in to Malstrum is the only way Demetri can survive.  The charismatic mine overlord decides to make it easy for him.

With all eight glorious covers embedded, and newly edited for a limited edition release, Maelstrom is back in a super value compilation!

From the Author:  Maelstrom was my attempt to realistically show how a straight manly guy could be seduced by another guy.  .2:″>Demetri is a macho hetero who rather cut off his leg than kiss a man. Malstrum seduces him smoothly and sweetly. There’s no noncon. Demetri falls head over heals with him. He’s very conflicted about it, but he loves Maelstrom too much to not to be with him.

.2:″>Maelstrom was originally presented as an eight part series.  Now, and for a SHORT TIME ONLY, the ENTIRE Maelstrom series is available for $3.99!

Please support author Yamila Abraham and buy this ebook!  You don’t need a Kindle to read Amazon Kindle books.  You can read them on any computer!  And there’s no chance you’ll ever lose your ebooks.  You can always access them on Amazon’s Cloud Server!

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Vanquished Enemy (Medival Gay BDSMErotica)

Vanquished Enemy (Medieval Gay BDSM Erotica)

Enter the perverse underworld of Darkhelm.  The Dragon King Caine’s beloved courtier has been possessed by an evil force that can only be exorcized through sweet bodily torment.

Also included is the story of a half-mortal who is initiated into Darkhelm’s debauched royal court.

Though it is near morning in my underworld kingdom of Darkhelm, I, the Dragon King Caine, sit awake in my bed seeking fruitless distraction with a book.  My loins are restless for the sport happening mere steps away in our ballroom.  And yet, I choose to wallow in miserable longing rather than take part.

Thankfully, precious distraction comes in the form of a knock at my door.


A phatom servant (a creature more snouted and dragon-like than even the demons of Darkhelm) preceded my dearest Jonah.  He could not finish the introduction of him before the sweet boy barreled toward me and pounced upon me with the whole of his spry body.

“Lord Jonah has returned, my king.”

I squeezed the dear blond mortal body and let him anoint my face with a dozen kisses.

“Master, oh master!”


“I love you!  I missed you!”

The phantom left us and closed the door.  Once Jonah heard the door latch he kissed with more urgency.  Our hot mouths and tongues entwined deeply for long moments.  When he broke away his red lips had turned dewy.

“I love you also, my dearest,” I said softly.

“Father.”  He gazed deeply into my eyes.

I stroked his hair while meeting his gaze. 

“Her writing style has a certain eloquence to it and her characterizations give substance to the smut.”—Vanquished Amazon Review

“I have such important things to tell you.”  His voice had turned breathy.  “But I saved myself for you the last two days and those phantom escorts molested me mercilessly on the ride back.  I’m dying to feel your cock inside me.”

A grove formed between my brows.  “They molested you?”

Jonah expelled a breath of frustration.  “Yes.  It started on the ride out.  Hexin was in the carriage with me and told me I had to get down or I might be seen from the window.  I obeyed, even though I was sure the curtain blocked me.  He kept urging me to hunch down until my knees were on the floor and I was bent over my seat.  Then he yanked up my robes and started licking my anus!  He shoved his big dragon snout in between my buttocks and just licked and licked!”

I rolled my eyes and grumbled.  “And when you protested?”

“Well, I didn’t protest because it felt wonderful.  But I was a bit annoyed.”

I smiled.  “Hmph.”

“I mean, I knew I had a full two hour ride.  I thought it a good way to pass the time.”  He returned my smile.  “His tongue was so brutal.  It crushed against my tender asshole and made my legs weak.  After a while my thighs were quaking, my buttocks quivering, and my manhood was so desperately hard.  I let myself moan with the ecstasy of it.  That’s when he suddenly mounted me, shoving his thick scaled cock deep into my ass.  His spit made me slippery enough, but he was still rough.  He plunged in half a dozen times before ejaculating inside me.  Then he got back behind me to eat his seed out of my opened hole.  He resumed licking until he felt the need to fuck me again.  After that the carriage stopped.  My other escort, Pernix, demanded that he get to ride inside for a while.  They traded places.  Pernix put his mouth right where Hexin’s had been.  He licked and fucked me with fresh vigor.”

“Yamilla is at the top of her game in this tale of dominance and submission that is far more complex than it seems.”—Vanquished Amazon Review

“Did you climax?”

“Yes!  Once we were nearly there I finally spasmed with an involuntary orgasm.  Every muscle of my body contracted with it.  The blood rushed to my head.  It was the most exquisite intoxicant.  I barely had time to clean up before exiting the carriage.  It was hard to make my legs work after that.”

I laughed softly.  My cock had grown enough to tent my blanket.  I groped myself with one hand.  “Those damn phantoms are always sticking their tongues in asses.  I remember long ago when we were at war, I had just bathed and collapsed with exhaustion on the floor of my tent with my tail twisted up.  I awoke to my steward desperately eating my asshole.  I remember scowling back at him and asking what he was doing.  He stopped just long enough to say I needed relief from the stressors of war.”

Jonah’s eyes became large and glittering.  “Did you fuck him?”

My smile evaporated as I remembered.  “No,” I said.  (I wouldn’t tell my dear Jonah that I ripped out his innards.)  

He grew petulant.  “Please take me, father.  I know you want me.  You won’t give me any argument tonight, will you?”

I smiled with one side of my mouth.  “Very well, Jonah,” I said softly.  He referred to our customary roleplay where I pretended to be a father appalled by his son’s lust for him.  “I’ve missed you too terribly to resist.” 

Read the Full Preview by clicking the links below!  You can read the whole Vanquished Enemy novella right on your computer, or any computer, with Amazon Kindle.  Please support us by purchasing this!!  It’s a searing hot bdsm story with true love between the characters and a poignant struggle.  The cover is a gorgeous painting by Archie the Redcat.

Click your country to read the Full PreviewKindle USA, Kindle Canada, Kindle Germany, Kindle UK, Kindle Australia, Kindle France, Kindle Spain, Kindle Italy, Kindle India, Kindle Brazil, or Kindle Mexico.  Everywhere else just grab it from Smashwords.  Coming soon for Google Play, iTunes, Nook, Scribd, and Kobo! Just search for it!

YOU CAN NEVER LOSE THIS EBOOK ONCE YOU BUY IT.  Gone are the days of buying an ebook and losing it when your computer dies!  You can access it from ANY COMPUTER at ANY TIME with Amazon Kindle!  This ebook is available for immediate reading online ANYWHERE.  You don’t even have to download it.  You read it on Amazon’s Cloud server.  This is true for Smashwords, Nook, iTunes, and Google Play, also!  Download this or access it online unlimited times!

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Vanquished Goddess (Medieval Fantasty BDSM Erotica)

Vanquished Goddess (Medieval Fantasy BDSM Erotica)

Lustful half-goddess Sarina gains freedom from her repressive mortal village, only to end up as a plaything to the perverse dragons of the underworld.

Read the Preview ~

I was seated on a glorious alter covered in mink fur. I was nude—no, I was covered in jewels. Jewels sewn together to make sexy clothes. A lot of my flesh was showing. Just the important parts were covered, and I sparkled.

Around me were slaves. All muscly men, oiled and glistening. They were nude. No, not nude. They didn’t wear jewels though. Let’s see. They wore silk sheaths on their cocks that were tight and articulated every little detail. One of them fed me grapes. Great big white ones, dangled in a bunch over my head. Another fanned me with a giant leaf.

A page trumpeted the arrival of my mortal mother. She was so shocked to see how glorious I was she bowed down to me in reverence.

“Oh, Sarina. What have you become?”

I smiled gently to her, because I did love her. “Mother, this is what I was meant to be. I’m a goddess of love.”

She began to weep. “Yes. I see that now. I was so wrong to try and restrain you. You’re not some mortal who should be tilling fields. Will you ever forgive me?”

“Of course, mother. I will always—“


I blinked hazily as reality reformed around me. I was in my dusty loft in our single room shack far outside the village. I climbed to the edge and looked down at my mother.


“Get my chest in the caravan.”

“I…I thought I already put it in last night.”

“Not the big one.” She smiled. “The little one. I want to take that, too.”


I climbed down and loaded the small box for her. The man she’d married yesterday was sitting atop the caravan holding the reins for two horses. Mother was already dressed to travel also. I was surprised she’d let me sleep so late.

“This was really light, mother. I think you could have done it yourself.”

“Easy for you to say! You have the strength of two men.” She looked around the shack a final time while fretting. “I suppose that’s everything.” Now she set her gaze on me somewhat forlornly. “All that’s left is to say goodbye.”

“That’s not all.” My voice held some rancor. “Take it off me.” I pointed to the bane of my existence: the hideous talisman that had been chained around my neck since I was six years old.

My mother was a fetching tall blonde who’d aged well enough for this merchant to fall in love with her. She still could form quite ugly wrinkles on her forehead when distressed. “That talisman is for your own good, Sarina.”

I kept my stance firm and defiant before her, despite the tears that built up behind my eyes. “You’re going off to explore the whole country with your beloved. I should be free also.”

She turned away, but thankfully didn’t mount the single step into the caravan. “I just can’t trust you.”

“You’re leaving me!” The tears spilled, despite my best effort to hold them back. “I’m not your concern anymore. Let me be free!”

“You could come with us,” she said. “Alinas would be glad to have you along.”

I choked out more sobs while she waited. We’d already had this argument—last year actually. I refused to leave with her and she chose to turn down the merchant Alinas’ proposal rather than leave me. She was spiteful towards me the whole season because of it, making me knock down five acres of forest and drag our heavy plow over the new earth day and night. We’d made good earnings on the harvest. I was ready to spend it now—preferably far away from this gods forsaken hovel I’d been bound to.

We’d gone back and forth on the issue for an eternity. She’d promised to take the talisman off me once I was a woman, which I now was, and then she went back on her word and said I had to wear it until I found a husband. She wavered on this last night when I’d railed against her in tears, saying she had to take it off before she left tomorrow. She acquiesced, but likely only because I wouldn’t be silent otherwise. Alinas slumbered in his caravan close to our window.

As I wept I thought up a new tactic. I sucked up my tears with a deep breath and said, “How can I get married with this horrible thing on me?”

She was unimpressed. “Who do you intend to marry?”


“He’s too old for you.”

“That doesn’t matter. I’m immortal. Any man I choose will grow old while I stay young. Besides that, he’ll care for me and support me, and isn’t that what you want? You’re getting to marry and be happy—why do you deprive me of the same thing?”

She remained stonefaced. “Let’s go see if Edgar will have you right now. Once the Townsman has sealed your union I’ll take off the talisman.”

My stomach felt as if it dropped from me. Fortunately Alinas piped up from his perch at the reigns.

“Ruth, darling, I need to be in Aquiel by dusk. We’ve a schedule to keep, my dear. I did tell you this.”

She shot a fretful glance up towards him. “Oh, but, dearest, what am I to do? The heat her godly father puts in her blood is too much for her to bear. That talisman is the only thing that protects her virtue.”

He pouted at her. “Darling, you said she’s powerful enough to protect herself and grown enough to look after herself. You can’t keep her bound, now can you? She’s not your little baby anymore.”

I love you, Alinas!

My mother began to weep and my heart soared. I knew I’d won. She reached up with a shaky hand and plucked the chained talisman off my neck as easily as if it were attached by a spider web. I was stunned by this—after all those years of trying to tear it off, making my fingers and neck bleed, and not dislodging it even a hair’s breadth. I snatched it from her hand at once, threw it into the dirt, and crushed it with my bare heel. I didn’t just shatter it. I pulverized it, stomping and macerating it into the dirt until it bore no resemblance to its former seeming.

My mother gasped as though I’d destroyed an heirloom. “Sarina! How could you! That cost more than a fortune. I went through so much to get it for you.”

I spat on it for good measure.


“Ruth, dearest,” Alinas said, “we must go.”

I yanked her into a hug. “Goodbye, mother. You go off, and be happy. Don’t ever think another thought about me.”

“So ungrateful. Oh! You control yourself. Go to Edgar at once. Don’t go to the village. Promise me!”

“I promise,” I said with great sincerity.

She boarded the caravan and was knocked into her seat when Alinas cracked the reins and set off. She yelled some more wisdom out the window, but I didn’t hear and no longer cared. I’m sure I’d miss her some maudlin rainy afternoon. Probably.

I waved until the caravan disappeared, and then I cheered, I twirled, I sang! Happy tears rolled down my face. I was laughing. I couldn’t stop myself.

I spat on the horrible talisman one more time and then ran in the direction of Edgar’s house.

There were thickets past a shallow groove by my home. I headed into them and took off my dress, despite the fact nothing hid me from the road. No one ever drove this near the gate of the underworld, anyway.

I tied my dress to a stately old oak. Half a mile later there was a thin white pine. I took off my shift and tied it to one of the prickly limbs. Now I was completely naked. I didn’t wear shoes and the grass was crispy below my feet. I leapt over a shallow puddle with my legs extended high. When I landed I did a pirouette. I giggled and continued onward.

Before the woodcutter Edgar’s cabin came into view I heard chopping. I knew each echoing thud represented a section of log that had been hacked in two.

Good. He’s outside.

In just a few steps I’d crest a gully and come into his view. He’d see my familiar face: large blue eyes and full dark lips below a mane of wild blonde curls. I had skin that always stayed porcelain white no matter how many times I skinny-dipped. There was a rosy, youthful hue to my cheeks, which still didn’t have the defining hollows that were supposed to come with age. You might have been able to mistake me for fifteen, except I was taller than any of the village men and had a fleshy body that had filled out in all the ways that bespoke woman. My bosom was more ample than a milkmaid’s and I had broad hips above shapely long legs. The former I’d caught this same woodcutter taking more than a cursory glance at. Now he’d be treated with the sight of plump pink nipples as well as a sex that had never grown hair. That godly attribute was a pity, because my fat clitoris didn’t fit within the folds of flesh guarding my womanhood. The lurid pink knot poked out like a glistening semi-phallus. It was the first time I’d shown this to anyone by choice. (Peeping Toms watching me skinny dip got an illegal first showing.)

The woodcutter dropped his axe at the sight of me. He was shirtless and his big muscles were sweaty. Edgar was probably twenty years my senior with thin graying hair. I walked toward him with enough determination to drive away my tendril of fear. He wanted me. I knew for certain he did.

“Gaw, Sarina, where are ye clothes?”

I kept walking toward him. My lips were parted and I thought of pressing my breasts against his huge muscled chest.

“Are ye in trouble?”

I shook my head while remaining fixed on him, as though I were in a trance. His expression remained concerned, but I reassured him enough for his eyes to dance over my body. When he saw my clitoris he drew his lips into his mouth to wet them.

I went for that mouth when I reached him. My hard nipples perked against firm flesh. I encircled him in my arms and kissed with all the insistent passion that had built up in me. He held me back without a touch of reservation. His huge warm arms were coursing over my back and causing tingles over the rounds of my ass while his gloriously hot mouth entwined with mine.

When our lips broke his face had taken on an expression of desperation. He stroked back the hair on my forehead with one hand.

“What are ye doing, crazy girl?”

“You know what I’m doing,” I said softly.

Please support me and my amazing cover artist by purchasing the entire novella.  It’s 68 pages of dripping sexuality.

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Vanquished Thief!

Vanquished Thief is available now!!

A waifish mortal thief is caught stealing in Darkhelm’s castle, and is only spared execution because his lovely body can be used for better things.

The Dragon King Caine doubts that such an unskilled mortal thief could have truly breached the underworld.  He wishes to know what this creature really is, and what he wants with their beautiful slave Jonah.  He intends to subject the pretty waif to some of their more exquisite tortures until he gets an answer.

The frightening truth behind the thief’s identity may place the mighty King Caine in a submissive position for the first time ever!  An erotic BDSM medieval fantasy with a romantic twist!

I examined the thief again several moments.  His beauty, I realized, was part of his scam.  His eyes were too large and bright.  His cunning face too prettily formed. 

“Fizu,” I said with great calm, “we know you’re not mortal.  That’s a fact all too clear.  You gave yourself to us in this pretty form.  What’s your aim in all this?  Speak truthfully now, for I assure you, it’s not your false charms that might spare your life, but mere frankness.  Who are you truly, and what do you want?”

He gazed at me with snide superiority.  “You’re mistaken in your assumption.  I’m mortal.  I drank a witch’s brew that hides my aura.  My only aim was to steal your treasures.  I targeted your minister’s chamber because he was the least fearsome among—”

“Enough!” I said.  “If you’ll not be truthful then I’ve no reason to delay your execution!”

I made to rise and this sparked a flash of dread in him.

“Wait.”  He climbed to his feet.  “There’s no need to kill me.”  He looked at Jonah.  “Dear Lord Jonah, I apologize for invading your privacy.  I was a fool to dare try to steal from any denizen of Darkhelm.  I sought the prestige such a scheme would bring me, but now I see why none have dare tried it before.  I beg you—let me earn my freedom.”  He lowered his face and a pink blush infected his creamy skin.  “Am I not lovely, Lord Jonah?  Might there be better uses for me alive than dead?”

I seethed with anger at this revelation.  I saw from Jonah’s scowl that he was not the least bit enticed.  Even he had realized the creature’s game. 

“So he’s not but a daring pervert,” Randell whispered to me.  “A water sprite, you think?  Or a goblin who found some magic talisman?”

“I think something far worse,” I said quietly.  “But I should like to test this.” 

I broke from my huddle with Randell and gestured to the soldiers with a raise of my chin.

“Strip him.”

The thief became aghast.  “I think not!” 

Both demons closed on him without hesitation.  Fizu scrambled back with a loud chinking of his chains.

“Stay back!  Don’t you dare!”

One seized him as he continued to scream in protest.  The other ripped the fabric from his small body with swift violent tears.

“You indicated you wished to buy your salvation with your body,” I said.  “I’m obliging you.”

“You—!  No!  Stop!”

Read the Full Preview!

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Vanquished Prince

Vanquished Prince (Medieval Gay BDSM Erotica)

Young Prince Thurber’s wicked god demands he complete a quest in the perverse dragon underworld before he can become king.

Thurber knows that months ago the knight Jonah became the willing sacrifice to the debauched dragon king of Darkhelm.  He sent a message to the mortal world saying that he was happy, and no one should try to rescue him.  Now Prince Thurber has been sent on a quest to find out why.

He’s shocked to see that not only is Jonah truly happy in Darkhelm, the former knight has become a demon himself.  Now Thurber must experience what it was that so captivated Jonah in the dark realm.

Jonah is horrified to know of the prince’s quest.  His evil god wants him to suffer the same lurid sexual torments which Jonah came to love.  Surely he can’t allow Thurber to enter their world—but if he doesn’t then Thurber may never become king.

The highly anticipated sequel to Vanquished Knight!  King Caine, Councilor Randell, and the Knight Jonah continue their BDSM medieval fantasy!

The following preview starts on page 10:

Jonah held Thurber’s hand as they walked through a black stone corridor.  Randell took his leave of them to rejoin my side (where we watched the two together). 

“You need to know some things I omitted from the letter to your father,” Jonah said.

“I would have you first tell me where you’re taking me.  Then I would have you explain exactly what I’m to expect here.”

Jonah ceased walking and fixed his dark eyes on the mortal.  “You’re acting as though you have control here.  You need to realize you have none.  The only reason you haven’t been raped by demons already is because I bade them not to.”

Thurber’s eyes widened with horror.  “What…what are you talking about?”

Jonah kept his voice steady.  “That demon you saw, Randell, and my dear master, the King Caine, have both subjected me to extreme sexual torture.  My ass and mouth have been penetrated by their thick members, my nipples and ass beaten red, my cock abused until orgasm a hundred times.”

“Stop!”  Thurber turned away from him as though he could not bear to listen.  His face had flushed so dark his freckles became invisible.  I could see his chest beating out shallow gasps of terror.  “How…how can you claim to love it here?”

Jonah estimated him a moment.  “That’s what you came to find out, isn’t it?”

He shook his head in disbelief.

“But you knew it would be terrible.  Helder is a cruel god.  I think he’s much crueler than my king.”

“Watch…watch what you say.”

Jonah became stern.  “I won’t.  I think it’s very wicked for Helder’s teachings to force you to be chaste, but then for him to send you to where he surely knew you’d be ravaged by demons.”

Thurber gulped audibly.  “He meant it to be my most fearsome challenge yet.  I can already see it will be.”

Jonah became thoughtful.  “Perhaps it will come to be the ultimate joke on him.  Maybe, like me, you’ll feel that the opposite from Helder’s rules is far better.”

Thurber’s chin began to tremble.  “All I feel now,” he said, with his words weighted by emotion, “is sickening terror.”

Jonah took his hand again.  “Don’t be afraid.  I’m here with you.”

Thurber was installed in an empty bed chamber where he could stew over his fate until evening. READ THE FULL PREVIEW!

Please support me and my amazing cover artist by purchasing the entire novella.  It’s 20,000 words or 55 pages of dripping sexuality.  You can read it on your Computer. You can read it on ANY COMPUTER you own or will own in the future. With Amazon Kindle you can put this story on as many devices you want, now and in the future. Or you can just log into your Amazon account and read it online.  Buy the story once and you will have it FOREVER no matter how many new computers you get!!  YOU DON’T NEED A KINDLE TO READ KINDLE EBOOKS! You have what you need—your PC or MAC, but you can also put kindle ebooks on your Blackberry, iPhone, Android, iPod, Tablet, ANYTHING.
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Vanquished Knight (Yaoi Gay Medieval Fantasy BDSM Erotica)

Vanquished Knight

A debauched dragon king subjugates a chaste knight who has volunteered to be his willing captive.

King Caine and his councilor Randell are owed a debt by the mortal king ruling in the land above them.  When Caine sees the knight Jonah he’s stricken by his beauty and innocence—and then senses something even more compelling about him.  Jonah surprises everyone by accepting his fate as Caine’s sacrifice.  He willingly descends to Darkhelm to be used as the king and his councilor see fit.

An erotic BDSM medieval fantasy with a romantic twist!



“Remove your clothes,” I said when Jonah was next before me.  “You may not wear them in the presence of myself or Randell.”

Jonah swallowed hard enough for his throat to bob.  Sweet silent tears came from him as he shed his layers of garments, but there was no hesitation.  He exposed his exquisite manhood as easily as he had his pale arms.  Randell and I smiled in unison.

“Now bow.  Bow as deeply as you did yesterday, and design an oath of fealty that you know will be most pleasing to me.”

Before I finished speaking he had thus bowed.  There was only I and Randell in the throne room with him.  No one was behind him to behold his exposed anus and testicles.  Pity there was no mirror.

“I wish for you to liberate yourself with this oath, Jonah.  Swear to embrace all that makes you quiver with fear, so that when you do this later you can take solace that such acts are in service to your sworn oath.”

“I…I swear allegiance to my new king and master, to King Caine.”  He strained to keep the words audible.  “I swear to become…all that he wishes of me.  To obey him, in all regards, no matter how severe his demands of me.”  He cleared his throat.  His final words came swifter.  “I swear this with all my soul…for so long as it pleases my master.  By Holy Helder, Amen.”

Jonah gasped and his face lifted enough for me to see he was stricken.  I looked at him very sternly.  Randell smothered laughter into his hand beside me.

“Did you just commend your oath to Helder?”

Jonah bowed low again.  His voice sounded panicked.  “Forgive me, please…it was…it wasn’t intentional.”

“It was quite a good oath before that,” Randell said.

He handed me one of the implements we’d supplied the room with earlier: a long paddle, with a stiff handle and a broad blade of loose leather.  I took it and rose from my throne.  Jonah lifted his head to peek at me.

“Remain in that position.”

I went behind him and gazed at his pale naked buttocks and fat scrotum at length.  Then I swung the paddle like a pendulum so that the blade slapped against his ass.


I knew the cry was borne of shock rather than pain.  The paddle struck him with easy flicks of my wrist, slapping and stinging his sweet round flesh until it grew pink.  He braced himself against the floor and bore the torment very well, with his ass high and his head low.  Each strike he acknowledged with a lovely yelp.  His toes curled and his fingers clawed against the hard stone floor.  After a dozen spanks his tender ass cheeks trembled.  He clenched involuntarily, forming hollows along the sides of each cheek.  I continued in my rhythm, changing his pink to red.  His head turned to one side with a contorted expression of anguish.  He whimpered between each blow and the trembling spread to the whole of his body.    READ THE FULL PREVIEW!

Please support Yaoimila and her amazing cover artist Archie the Red Cat by purchasing the entire novella.  It’s 24,000 words or 75 pages of dripping sexuality.  You can read it on your Computer. You can read it on ANY COMPUTER you own or will own in the future. With Amazon Kindle you can put this story on as many devices you want, now and in the future. Or you can just log into your Amazon account and read it online.  Buy the story once and you will have it FOREVER no matter how many new computers you get!!  YOU DON’T NEED A KINDLE TO READ KINDLE EBOOKS! You have what you need—your PC, but you can also put kindle ebooks on your Blackberry, iPhone, Android, iPod, Tablet, ANYTHING. Click your country to buy it:
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Also COMING SOON for Google Play, iTunes, Nook, and Kobo! Just search for it!

A God to Rule Her (Adult Gothic Fantasy)

A Gothic Romantic Fantasy for Adults Only!  Fiercely independent Ashla is the healer in a village blighted by the shadow of a dark god.  Exinious created Ashla’s civilization centuries ago and then abandoned them.  His only interaction is to choose a bride from their ranks every generation.

A disease has stricken the villagers that Ashla can’t cure with her magic potions.  She knows this must be the work of Exinious, and fights her way to his fortress to confront him.

Deep down she already knows what’s going on.  It’s time for Exinious to choose a new bride, and he must have his eyes on her.  Unfortunately for the god, Ashla will never leave her post as healer.  She refuses to become the property of any man—especially not a selfish and fearsome god.

An Erotic Gothic Novella by the author of Alien’s Bride!  Presented here in its entirety.  READ THE PREVIEW! ->

I stood at the base of the mountain and used one hand to shade my eyes from the sun.  My head had to crane back to take in the god Exinious’ fortress.  It didn’t matter that the black thing had been in the background of my village all my life.  It still put a knot in my stomach to look at it.  The sharp dark towers grew upwards from the mountain’s peaks, forming inky capillaries that stained the sky.

“You should wear something prettier,” Senator Carrus said behind me.

I closed my eyes and tried not to lose my temper.  What I’d worn was simply my deep blue smock, emblazoned with the symbols for health, renewal, fertility, and medicine. A dense fabric belt tied snugly around my waist and a hooded wool cape hung off my shoulders.  I felt just as entitled to my healer’s uniform as the senators did to their long brown tunics.

“I have to climb a mountain, you realize,” I said.

“You also have to beseech the god that lives there,” Carrus said.  He was barrel-chested with a full white beard.  “His last wife from the village died six years ago.  He may be ready for another.  A pretty package might go a long way towards winning the lonely god’s aid.”

The suggestion made me cringe.  “I’m not volunteering to be his latest sacrifice.”

Carrus put his gnarled hand on my shoulder.  “Oh, but my dear—“

I jerked away from him like his hand was a hot coal.  He gave Senator Diones an amused expression while I glared at him.  I’ve told the old bastard before not to touch me.

There was no need for Senators Carrus and Diones to escort me to the mountain.  Their page had called me to the meeting house at sunrise to demand an explanation for why I hadn’t cured the sixteen villagers dying under my care.  My patients all had the same disease, the same weeping red boils and fever.

I’d built an astonishing reputation for healing both people and animals.  Our leaders claimed my practice was one of the benefits of their regime.  As a woman both fatherless and unwed I’d felt too vulnerable to refute this.  But then, being the darling of my senators stopped the accusations of witchcraft made against me from ever gaining a foothold.

My obligation to them was never spoken, but they had no trouble presuming it at the morning hearing.  Why were those sixteen people, one of whom the niece of Senator Rizee, getting worse by the day?  I was making them look bad.  I was betraying all the faith they had put in me.

There was a part of me, a small part since their judging eyes and loud voices made me cower, that wanted to spit at them.  The bigger part of me was focused on my patients.  Why couldn’t I cure those sixteen?  I don’t know.

I don’t know.

My tinctures should cure anything.  Everything.  They always do.  Even if I don’t understand it, I can cure it.  That’s the gift I was given.  Of course, I’d never admit I used magic to our leaders.  Who knows when I’ll fall out of favor and have it used against me?  I’d answered the only way I could.  I’d claimed the god Exinious had cursed us and someone had to go to his fortress and find out why.

“Splendid idea,” they’d said.  “You should head out right away.”

A nauseating terror had made me feel faint.  I was in a trance as Carrus and Diones guided me out here.  Once I saw that hideous fortress my quest felt inescapable.

“Ashla,” Senator Diones said.

I looked at him with the scowl that was meant for Carrus.  The younger and infinitely more somber Diones didn’t deserve my anger.  He was one of the very few men I found tolerable in the village.

“If you don’t start climbing now it will be dark before you reach the fortress.”

I drew in a deep breath and then let it out with a slump of my shoulders.  He was right.  I was being a fool to let Carrus rile me.  I thought of my poor patients.  They suffered in their illness and not even my powerful potions could ease their pain.  I’d let this drag on long enough.  Something drastic had to be done.  Of course, the Senate foisted the responsibility onto me to do it.

I started up the first slope, letting more dejecting thoughts bombard me.  Exinious was notorious for ignoring our pleas for help.  I’d heard stories that made my face feel like it had been slapped.  He’d told my maternal great grandfather that we were supposed to be his amusement, but had turned out boring and annoying just like the other society he’d made before us who’d died off.

I soldiered on despite the risk of humiliation.  My treatment should have cured those people.  There’s magic in my bottles, just as real as Exinious’ magic.  This disease was unnatural.  Even if he was unwilling to render aid, couldn’t he at least tell me what this abomination was?

The shriek of a bird interrupted my doldrums.  The sound had been loud enough to reverberate through my skin.  I froze while balancing my outstretched hands and feet on the boulder in front of me.  The shadow of a giant bird swallowed my entire form.  It blotted out the sun for far too long as it passed over me.  My heart began to race with terror.

The monster hawk.  I remembered a solitary lesson where it was mentioned in school.  I reassured myself that if it ate people there would have been more focus on it.  While I was thinking this, however, I remained frozen, too terrified to look up.

The thing shrieked again and I realized it was getting closer.  Now I huddled down against the boulder and squeezed my eyes closed.

“Please, Exinious,” I whispered, “don’t kill me.  They need me…I know you don’t care, but they need me.”

I heard a thump and lifted my trembling head slowly to look.  On the terrace above me was a tall black cage shaped like a cylinder.  There was a seat inside covered in glimmering red fabric.  The cage door was open.

I saw the shadow of the giant bird perched on top of the cage.  It took every ounce of courage I had to lift my gaze to it.  The shiny blue-black feathers were more like a raven’s than a hawk’s.  The red glowing eyes, however, weren’t from any bird I’d ever seen.  The massive thing was glaring at me.  I felt like my heart was beating backwards for a moment.  Through my terror I managed to see that the beast was perched on a large metal loop attached to the cage.

So…he’s come to fetch me?  I couldn’t imagine the implications, but I had to take this as a good sign.  The only trouble was my paralyzing fear.  If I could wield my limbs the only direction I wanted to go was back down, and as fast as I could manage.  No one had prepared me for giant monster birds.

I felt like crying, but, as in all facets of my life, I strove to hold back my tears.  It was instinctive by now: never cry, never raise your voice, don’t ever let someone accuse you of being weak.  I suffered the villagers’ endless scrutiny as an unwed woman.  Even the senators questioned why I was unmarried.  “If you don’t want children, there are plenty of older widowers who’d have you,” Carrus, a widower himself, had said.  My status as healer was as much an affront to our society as it was an asset.  Oh, how they wished I’d had a father to order me to marry one of them.

My thoughts were rambling.  I choose to think of anything except what I had to do.

I started climbing before I could talk myself out of it.  I stood on the terrace and peered into the cage.  The strange fabric of the cushioned seat had to be from Exinious.  I hugged my arms around myself and went in.  I sat and latched the cage door closed.

The demon bird spread its massive wings and barraged me with huge gusts of wind as it took off.  When the cage lifted I felt like my stomach stayed behind.  I had to clutch the black bars on either side of me with white-knuckled fists and squeeze my eyes closed.  I peeked a few times and regretted it.  The height gave me vertigo.  I had the horrifying vision of the bottom falling out of the cage and me dropping with it.  Then I peeked just as we descended past the wall of the fortress.  The bird glided down at a dizzying speed that made the cage sway.  I curled down against my knees.

I felt a big bump, and then it was still.  My body unfolded to behold a courtyard without vegetation.  Where there might have been grass was instead gray stone.  There were black tree skeletons bordered by circles of brick.  The same dark brick created a round table with several benches.  Who would ever want to sit out here?  The dreariness was amplified by a gray mist clinging to the ground in scattered places.  It was cold and my skin grew clammy.

The cage door let out a hideous creak when I opened it.  I cringed at the loud noise.  My sense of unease was so great I thought I’d anger the bird, or perhaps wake up some other monster living here.

I clutched my cape tightly around me and went down the stone path leading to the fortress’ dark arcade.  As I headed toward it a figure emerged.  I froze.

The god Exinious now walked toward me.

I’d given no thought to actually meeting him.  He was so prevalent in our society I felt like I already knew him.  Our creator.  The ambivalent one.  The passive watcher.  The one who’d abandoned us.  Neither good nor evil.  A character in our history books.  The subject of poems and songs.  Occasionally worshipped, despite never showing any interest in our adulation.  Often reviled for how little he cared for us.

He’d become a cartoon to me.  Yet now, in his presence, I felt overcome.

I had no doubt he was our god.  His magical aura made my breath catch.  He was too powerful to behold, but I couldn’t pull my gaze from him.  Exinious had the bearing of a man, but taller and more densely muscled than any I’d known from the village.  Once I overcame his blinding presence I saw a striking man—a handsome man.  His skin was white as chalk but was framed with pleasing dark hair in a flattering enigmatic style.  He wore a gray waistcoat with large silver buttons.  Over this was an impressively long black jacket, finer than anything our senators had.  His tight breeches were brown and of a clinging fabric.  They dove into long black boots with rows of silver buckles.  I noticed some markings on his flesh that added to his beauty.  His visage would have been entirely pleasing if not for his eyes.  I’d never seen eyes so chillingly cruel.  I felt naked in his gaze.  Unworthy.

“You don’t kneel?” Exinious said once he stood before me.

My lips parted in bewilderment.  I’d been so rapt I had to pause to decipher the words in my mind.  Then I lowered with a flourish of my cape.  I dropped to my knees in front of him, but went no lower.  I looked up at him to see if this was what he wanted.

Exinious fixed those cruel eyes on me with a slight dip of his brow.  “I didn’t say you had to kneel.  I only asked why you didn’t.  Most people do.”  He gestured with three fingers for me to rise.

I obeyed clumsily.

“You arrived faster than expected.”

“You…were expecting me?”

He turned to lead me back toward the arcade.  “I sent my bird for you.”

“Oh.  Yes, of course.”

“It seems you climbed into the cage with little hesitation.  You’re bold.”  He glanced back at me.  “But I already knew that.”

I blinked a few times.  Now was when I should have asserted myself and my mission.  ‘Five days ago people started coming down with a strange illness in the village,’ I should have said.  ‘Do you know anything about it?’

But no.  I clutched my cape close to my body and cowered in the trail of his aura.  My spit felt too thick in my mouth to talk through.

“You may stay a few days,” Exinious said.

I followed him through the arcade, which was covered in black thorny vines.

“Stay?  Stay here?”

“Yes.”  He opened a domed door that looked like it was made of solid black stone.

“I can’t.”

He fixed his cold eyes on me, making me stagger back a pace.  My dedication to my post was so strong the response came automatically.  Now I realized I sounded defiant.

I drew my lips into my mouth to wet them.  “I…I have to get back.  I have sick patients.  That’s…well, it’s the reason I came to see you.”

“I know why you came to see me.  Your patients are recovering now.”

I blinked again with my lips parted.

“The sixteen men and women,” he said, as though I didn’t understand.  “They’ll be healed by the time you return.”

My heart began to thunder again.  I actually felt woozy, as though this were all a dream.

“You really cursed them?” I said softly.

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