With enemies swarming her father's stronghold, Lady Roslyn is suddenly snatched up by the arms of a mighty warrior--she and her maid Celia are carried off to the safety of her Uncle's castle. But that safety is short-lived...and her beloved Uncle is not all he seems. In a stunning blow, the two young virgins are given to the heroic, but notoriously brutal, General Drago as a gift--sacrificed for political gain. After a harrowing trip, both women are quickly collared, becoming nothing more than Drago's property. The lusty Celia quickly succumbs to the requirements of her lowly status, bound, abused and forced to serve as a lowly sex slave. Roslyn, meanwhile, is reserved for Drago alone. The naïve beauty is seduced by the man's savage and arousing ways. But she's also frightened and attempts to flee. When she's caught, Drago places the rebellious Roslyn in a heavy yoke that fits around her neck and wrists. So restrained, she's forced to watch Celia's rape, knowing hers will follow.
When Drago is suddenly called away, Roslyn enjoys some peace in his absence. But like a pawn in a never-ending chess game, she's kidnapped by her family's sworn enemy, Duke Wilhem. In a humiliating display, she's marched naked into the village that surrounds the Duke's fortress. Then at a large feast in celebration of her capture, her nose and clit are pierced and she's initiated into the extremes of anal sex before hundreds of hungering eyes. Later, as Duchess Josephine's play-thing and the Duke's nightly whore, she surrenders to their every demented whim, discovering that there is no limit to the depravity she must endure.
In time, Josephine becomes jealous of her husband's attention to Roslyn, and devises a scheme to make a traitor of the luckless young woman. But will Josephine's accomplice, a mysterious black lover, take part in the final demise of the noble Roslyn? Will Roslyn be hanged, miraculously rescued, or sent to the slave markets of the East? All that is certain, is that her fate hangs in the balance, forever controlled by men who desire her, use her--and even love her. A passionate no-holds-barred Old World tale of Domination and female submission. Included in its graphic content are foul dungeons, extreme bondage, pain, humiliation, whipping, body piercing, shackles, gags, cages, cells, forced sex, oral, heavy anal and strap-on lesbian sexuality.
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1 . Predictable...
Posted December 24, 2009 by Abby , British ColumbiaI would have liked to seen a little more to the story line
Pink Flamingo Publications
August 13, 2007
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Adobe DRM EPUB
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Excerpt from Damsel, The Betrayal of Lady Roslyn by Lizbeth Dusseau
A wide moon danced across the heavens all night long, from the first moonglow in a sunset sky, until morning, when it faded like the fragmented pieces of a tattered cloud. She looked out over the expanse of meadow and woods at dawn, awakened from her sensuous slumber by the deep rumble of something treacherous and earth shattering. She'd been dreaming of lovers, of bold exotic men, with eyes like birds of prey and tender but decisive hands, delicately caressing flushed skin. Men with sinewy chests, bearded faces and pliant lips; men with virile arms that could capture and content a restless female. Alas, Lady Roslyn was a restless female
But with that dream bursting at the seams with passion, she awakened, startled by a prescient fear and ran toward the window facing west. Gazing out toward the approaching clamor, her beauty bloomed while excitement filled her wide expressive eyes. She was a beauty like none other, where auburn tresses shroud white shoulders, and plump lips beg a lover's kiss. Grabbing her nightdress in her hand, she darted toward the window facing north to get a better view. She moved regally, but with a youthful grace; she was, after all, still young, still an unplucked flower, fragrant and sensuous, the only flower in her father's garden.
The riders came from the north, on steeds with thundering hoofs, and cries of war screaming on their lips, crashing through an easy dawn with swords drawn and ready to kill. Soon swarming over the lightly guarded embankment, blood flowed in a terrible river of pain. Roslyn heard the crashing sound of the gate, breached by snorting beasts and their raging riders.
She dared not run, although even if she'd tried, her legs would never have carried her. Too weak, too panic-stricken for rational thought or calculated action, she slumped in a corner, clutching her white nightdress and buried her face in her arms. Footsteps on the stone staircase echoed, even as her desperate prayers echoed through the injured walls of her home.
They were in her room. Cringing, she peeked at a pair of muddy knee-high boots. She closed her eyes, shaking like a frightened mouse, while a pair of firm, grasping hands lifted her into the air. She landed over the broad shoulder of some fierce burly fellow--she could smell the sour heat of him, his foul breath. No time to waste, he and his accomplices took the stairs, making a hasty retreat.
Roslyn dared not look as the small brigade swiftly passed through the ransacked castle. Her heart cried out to her parents but the scream caught in her throat.
"Doncha dare take milady!" Tevi's cry stopped their retreat and Roslyn's eyes shot open in time to see a rough, bearded warrior backhand the old nurse. She got up swinging in a rage, but was sent to the floor again, this time too wounded to rise again.
"Milady!" The sound of her young maid Celia's plaintive scream suddenly pierced the air.
"Oh, dear God, please, no, Celia, no!" Roslyn prayed vehemently.
But her lovely maid was too fair a prize not to be snatched from the ruins of the castle. Like her mistress, the doe-eyed girl, with the flaxen hair and rosy cheeks, was stolen away, riding over the shoulder of another stinking brute. Unlike the speechless Roslyn, Celia kicked and flailed and screamed. But to no avail, the barbarian laughed at her misery and took her away, following the tiny band of men into the cloudy morn. Behind them, the battle for the castle waged on.
Roslyn choked as the smoke caught in her throat; her eyes burned. A devilish business this was; a terrible memory this morn would leave clinging to her beleaguered mind, though through her body, through limbs and blood a churning thrill coursed. She bit her lips and clenched her fists and fought back her tears. Just a week before, her old nurse crumpled at her feet, and whispered something nonsensical about the end of the world. Oh, how the woman made her shiver before the saner Roslyn shook her off. Tevi saw things; she had the gift, and she knew then, that her mistress' simple life would never be the same. Not after this day of mortal terror.
By the end of the day, a vast stretch of ruins was all that remained in that open meadow, where once the castle of Rosyln's father proudly stood. A lone female, old and decrepit, limped from the ruins, briefly staring back at her past, before she made her way into the wilderness beyond.
And later, Roslyn & Celia with General Drago...
General Drago paced the room, the great hall, with its stone walls and bare slate floors, where the haunting animal heads and hides were the only things to break up the vastness of immeasurable grey. He paced uneasily, although he was not surprised that he would be contemplating his next move with the feisty daughter of Duke Ledo. Lady Roslyn proved an apt challenge, a diversion from the typical activities of his life. She was a beauty, no doubt about that, and she would take some taming, of that he was sure. But he was as sure of his own desires as he was of the lovely young woman.
She hung now in the center of his great room, yoked--her arms and head fixed into the wooden stocks he used to tame restless females. She kicked like the devil when his men forced the punishment, and now looked so breathtakingly beautiful in bondage that he could feel his manhood swelling with lust. Thankfully, she was silent now; subdued in her humiliation, although she could not bow her head for the way the yoke forced her head upright. Her eyes were closed, as if that would lift her from this world into some better place.
Drago had yet to speak with her; he'd paced thoughtfully about the woman, noting how she quivered inside her white nightdress. The garment clung to her sweating body--Oh! It had been quite a fight she'd waged, kicking, cursing, spitting, biting! But now, she'd atone for her crimes. There was much to do in Dragon-Horn that night.
About the room, torches flamed and soot gathered in clouds above, streaming its way toward the windows high inside the stone walls. Into the teaming atmosphere, Drago's men, Geoffrey, Trevor and Titus, led Lady Roslyn's maid Celia. Though the girl trembled in fright, Drago felt from her quivering body a sweeping lust almost attack him at his groin; his already aroused organ turned hard as steel. Pushing the reluctant maid to the center of the open space, not more than ten feet from her yoked Mistress, Geoffrey then stepped back to watch as his master eyed the girl.
Like Roslyn, the fair-haired Celia had been collared in a claiming collar, although she was also cuffed at the ankles and wrists with tight-fitting metal cuffs. Also like her mistress, she wore a simple shift that could barely disguise the body beneath the thin material. Her breasts made indentations in the fabric, as did the globes of her well-shaped ass. One could easily imagine the soft fluff of pale pubic hair where her legs met her torso. Though she wore no perfumes, it seemed there was an uncommonly fragrant scent to her body, one that caught the attention of everyone who watched. Although quite a sight to behold, the girl could not stand still, but fidgeted, unsure, blushing, her eyes darting from the surprising sight of her yoked mistress, to Drago, then Geoffrey and the others. The way in which her body squirmed, while almost childish, was quite provocative, considering that hers was the fully-formed body of a woman.
"I see you've readied her," Drago spoke to the three men.
"Yes, sir," Geoffrey answered.
"Has she been rent?"
"Yes. She is not intact."
"And you verified the fact yourself?"
"No, milord. Mim took care of inspecting her when she arrived.
Drago nodded and moved towards the speechless girl. As he did her eyes darted from Drago back to her mistress, then again to Geoffrey--she had no idea where to place her attention. By then, Lady Roslyn was fully conscious and she stared at the sight of her maid with great concern.
"You needn't mind the Lady Roslyn, girl," Drago said. "You have your own troubles to attend do." Celia bowed her head as the man gave the girl another studious inspection. Finally, he stepped back. "How about an unveiling?"
Geoffrey moved back in and lifted Celia's shift by its hem, up and off the girl's body, leaving her in nothing but the collar and cuffs. The unveiling only confirmed the speculations of the men surrounding the scene. White, lustrous skin...breasts voluptuous but firm, hips well-shaped, an arse with two splendid mounds of flesh, invitingly stimulating to the eye of a virile male. "You've caught yourself a fine female here," Drago spoke directly to Geoffrey.
"Yes, sir," he nodded.
From several feet away, where Lady Roslyn stood dangling, the view provoked the same admiration in Celia's mistress, though she was forced to curb any erotic feeling she may have toward her maid.
"So, what do you think of her?" Drago approached the lady, asking.
Just Drago's presence inflamed her ire. "I think you're all swine!" Roslyn spat.
Drago laughed. "Pigs, hum?"
"So, you think the girl is suffering?"
"What you are doing is very wrong."
"Wrong to enjoy my properties? Wrong to observe the loveliness of a tender lass?"
"You have much more in mind. I know that!"
"You should withhold your judgment until you know the truth, milady," Drago mused. He patted Roslyn's cheek dismissively and moved swiftly toward the lady's shuddering maid. One hand clutched an ass cheek, the other was at her chin. With the hand on her ass stroking the flesh, her bare chest heaved with excitement and her lips parted, as if she were panting with want. Drago suddenly grabbed the flesh hard, holding it roughly in his fist. "Aroused, girl?"
Celia looked toward her mistress.
"No, don't look at her. She's been a bad girl and is being punished. Meanwhile you have been a model property--kind of spirit, open, willing, and now aroused. Hum? Tell me what you're feeling now."
"Yes, sir, I am aroused," Celia gasped.
Drago smiled. His hand moved toward the girl's pubic 'V', pressing between her thighs, where he made contact with the private treasure stored there. He fished through the valley, finding it wet and gave her sex lips a tug, each one in turn.
The girl hardly cringed, but she did let out a tiny gasp, saying something like, "Oh, sir," but very quietly in a breathy whisper.
"Titus, lay down on the bench," Drago ordered the man while pointing to a rough wooden chaise.
Hearing himself called out, the young man was quick. His eyes danced with excitement, and his smile turned into a lusty smirk, as he laid back, propping himself on one arm, waiting.
"Now, do what he wills, girl," Drago ordered as he pushed Celia toward the man. She wasted no time moving to the chaise where she slumped to her knees, her hands moving across young Titus' groin and freeing his organ with little effort. She took it deeply into her mouth as if she were swallowing it whole. Her lips worked the flesh in its flaccid state to start, licking and slurping the head and shaft, then devouring the penis inside her mouth. Drawing back, her one hand clutched the thickening stalk and her mouth fervently continued until the beastly penis grew into a steely rod. All the while, her naked ass undulated behind her as if she were in the throes of her own sexual pleasure.
Roslyn watched, just as Drago and the others watched, the entire company being a bit in awe of the show Celia made of the carnal act. One would have thought that the girl was a practiced whore, when Roslyn knew for a fact, that Celia was as naïve as she was with regards to the stimulation of the male sexual organ. Obviously, she had some inherent knowledge; or, perhaps, a lot of naughty banter with scullery maids had been her teacher. The girl continued until the youth was about to explode into her mouth. But then Drago abruptly stopped her; he had other things in mind for the initiation of his newest property.
"Back off, girl," he ordered.
Hearing the order, Celia lifted her head, blushing, her mouth wet, her lips parted, her eyes hooded and dark. Her hair was a disheveled mess of flaxen curls, making her look astoundingly sexual for a maid so young.
"Climb on and acquaint the boy with your randy quim," Drago said.
As if she'd been waiting for that very command, Celia eagerly climbed on the chaise and straddled the young man's hips, while parting her love nest so the erect member could slip easily inside. After undulating in sensuous movements to start, the two soon began to move in a powerful rhythm, with Celia bouncing up and down, her breasts like two lively pillows, the nipples fully erect and boldly pink.
It wasn't but a few seconds and Drago was behind the chaise, turning the heavy furniture with the two copulating youths, so that the maid was facing her mistress directly and the tortured Roslyn could see everything: the open cunt, the bouncing bosom, the look of sheer pleasure on the girl's face.
The heightened moment had everyone charged and Roslyn herself feeling the effects, with a tickle of excitement between her thighs and a longing that she couldn't shake. The feel of her nightshift against her skin was as dear as a lover's caressing hand, though not enough to even start a journey toward the climax her body now urgently desired.
Suddenly, a thick grunting noise issued from the boy's mouth, and his body appeared to freeze for a split-second, while his hands clutched Celia's hips, keeping her crotch in place as he thrust hard, firing his seed deep on the path toward her womb. Her own cry was a sensuous, even lyrical swoon, a sound her mistress recognized. Pure. Sweet. But earthy, as feral as the feral feel of Drago's great hall at that very moment.
Her moment of bliss ended too soon, however, with Drago pulling the girl from the chaise. He held her by the arm. "Did you climax, girl?" he asked--an accusation. Cum was still dripping down her thighs and glistening in the candlelight. "Yes, sir," she whimpered with her blue eyes as wide as saucers.
"And did you ask permission to do so?" he said sharply.
She shook her head, "No, sir," her expression completely flustered.
"You'll be punished for that failing. You will learn that in this world, your pleasure is not your own, but mine to grant."
She hunched her shoulders gloomily, saying softly: "Yes, sir."
"How vile you are! Curse you, Drago!" The previously silent Lady Roslyn vented so suddenly that everyone was aghast for several seconds. In fact, even Roslyn could hardly believe that she'd spoken her angry thoughts aloud.
Drago turned her way, letting go the girl. "You dare protest? Hum? Well, be assured you'll have yours too, but for your outburst, the girl will suffer twice the blows."
Her face filled with pained shock and she seethed under her breath. Consumed with passion, her eyes darkened as Drago walked her way. "You care to spit out more curses, milady? I will make her hate you for the punishment you bring down on her. Is that what you wish?"
"I can never hate Lady Roslyn!" Celia jumped in.
"Silence!" Drago commanded.
The girl shriveled instantly.
"Please, Celia, no," Roslyn scolded her, though it was too late for that, too late to take back what she'd already caused.
Returning to the girl, Drago thrust her over the back of the chaise, so her bare ass was raised high and her legs unbending, the skin tight and quivering from hips to toes.
"Beat her well, Geoffrey," the master ordered, then he stood by and watched as both Titus and Geoffrey took turns beating the maid's firm behind, first with a leather strap, which merely warmed the skin, then with a cat of braided falls, that cut fiery welts across the skin.
The girl winced at first, and for a time, it seemed that she accepted the punishment as a rousing finish to the sexual climax still shuddering sensuously through her flesh. But that did not last long, when the warmth of the leather's firm caress turned into a rising sting that would not abate. Once Titus finished with the belt and Geoffrey took over with the meanly fashioned braided cat, the tails raked across her skin and she began to weep. Her weeping turned into sobs filled with anguish and her entire body became one enormous shudder of woe. Moved by her distress, Geoffrey tried to lessen the intensity of the blows, but Drago was displeased.
"Finish her, Geoffrey!" he barked.
Renewed by his master's command, Geoffrey took an invigorating breath and reared back, his arm quivering at first, then his resolve toughening. He brought the cat forward with a flourish, laying a final pair of successive strikes against Celia's raw behind.
Roslyn could barely look at the sight of her maid's blistered ass. Although not unlike her previous experience with such punishment scenes, she found her own body quivering in that most dreadfully enthralling way. She hardly realized that Drago was at her side, that his hand had clutched the back of her head, so that she could not look away even if she tried. Little did he know that Roslyn found the sight so enthralling that her sex-hungry eyes were riveted on the scene.
"Your turn next?" Drago whispered to Roslyn privately when the beating was over and the crying Celia had slumped to the floor.