For some reason, this book is still only on PRE-ORDER on Bookstrand. This means they might find the image objectionable. Sigh, this is my second book in a row where retailers have found something wrong with either the description or image.
WARNING: Contains bondage, submission and domination themes that may be offensive to some.
The army camp is in turmoil. Prince Miro’s father has launched an attack on King Jai’s lands in retaliation for what Miro has been made to do during his sexual slavery.
As King Jai prepares to go to war, the staggeringly handsome Miro is stripped, bound and exhibited throughout his enemy’s capital. He is brought to Jai’s mother, the beauteous Queen Ariya, who introduces Miro’s long, hard cock and tight asshole to further sinful delights.
But Jai’s quiet brother lurks in the shadows, watching Miro from wounded eyes. What role will Miro play in his enemy’s strange family?
This BDSM novelette (13,500 words) is Book Four of ‘The Royal Captive’ series.
READ AN EXCERPT
The Queen gets up from her throne. She waves a diffident hand. “He will not be out of my sight, I assure you, good general. Does King Jai prohibit the sharing of his new plaything with his mother?”
The general smiles as he glances at me. “I’m sure His Majesty would not deny his own mother her little pleasures, my Queen.”
“Excellent.” The Queen descends onto the floor where I am set upon in my bonds. She studies the beams that are used to support me, as well as the little U-shaped stick holding my cock upright.
Her lily white hand darts out to stroke my shaft and penile head.
“Lovely, simply lovely,” she breathes. “I honestly don’t think I have seen anything so spectacular in a long time.”
She toggles the slim rod inside my penis.
“How firm and long it is,” she gushes.
I’m not sure she’s referring to the rod or my cock. She caresses my balls and tugs at the weights holding them down, and then goes behind me to observe the way the axe handle spears my anus.
“What a beautiful pattern the lash marks make,” she murmurs, her fingers pressing against my newly made strokes.
I steal a glance at my back and buttocks. They are striped with red crisscrosses, but there is not an open wound in sight. Spirus has whipped me well without causing me injury.
The Queen returns to my front again. Lightly flicking my nipple weights back and forth, she says to me, smiling, “I’ll take good care of you in my son’s absence, little pet. Just as you’ll take good care of me.”
My breath stills. Up close, she is even more beautiful than I have been led to believe. Her skin is alabaster, and her eyes deep wells of blue.
She turns to the youth in the white cape and beckons. “Come, Dio.”
The young man hesitates.
“Don’t be a rabbit. Come see the young prince from the enemy camp. It could be you in this state if you’d been caught by that awful King Aeschylus, my son.”
I bridle. My father would never mete out such treatment to his royal prisoners. He may torture them physically in the dungeons, of course, but never would he sexually toy with them. At least, not to my knowledge.
Prince Dio reluctantly rises from his chair. He gathers his white cape around him and takes small steps down the dais where the throne is situated. He joins his mother meekly.
His mother grasps his hand and makes him touch my tumescent shaft, as though he is a child who must be taught to milk his first cow.
“Feel it. Close your hands around it,” she orders.
