Lesser Monsters, Part 1: Using John

By Kevin Thorne

A century after humankind lost a futile war to the immortal vampires, werewolves, and elves who rule the world, the young and handsome John lives in the castle of the legendary vampire Belle Helène the Conqueror, as a pampered pet and sexual servant to Helène's two sisters.

Everything changes when the most powerful and brutal fiend in history—Belle Helène herself—returns to her castle after a decades-long absence. But—has she changed? Has she learned compassion, even kindness? Or is she just playing a long, cold game that could have catastrophic results for John and all his kind?

Warning: Reader discretion is advised. This is a dark ride.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kevin Thorne
• Release date: Jan 25, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310115080

Kevin Thorne

Kevin Thorne writes dark, high-fantasy erotica with themes of humiliation, dubcon, noncon, and forced male submission.As Kevin J. Thorne, Kevin also writes high-fantasy gay erotic romance.

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Contents

Title Page

Copyright Page

Other Titles

Lesser Monsters, Part 1: Using John

Coming Soon

About the Author

Lesser Monsters

Part 1: Using John

By Kevin Thorne

Lesser Monsters, Part 1: Using John

Published by Kevin Thorne at Smashwords

Copyright © 2015 Kevin Thorne

Cover design © 2015 Jay O'Connell

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each reader. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Other Titles

Discover other titles by Kevin Thorne:

Lesser Monsters, Part 2: Ruthless Truths

Lesser Monsters, Part 3: Unbound Appetites

Lesser Monsters, Part 4: Captivity

Using John

Whispers swirled through the castle as fast as a fever, leaving a dread excitement in their wake.

The Sapphire Suite is being opened and aired.

The Sapphire Suite? But it’s autumn, not spring!

"We must be having an important guest. A very important guest."

"Not a guest. It’s her suite. They wouldn’t open it for anyone else."

Whose?

Lady Helène.

Who?

You know. The third sister. The one in all the tapestries and mosaics.

The one with the dark hair?

Yes.

And the bloodied heads swinging from her hand?

There’s a reason they called her Belle Helène the Conqueror. The Merciless. The Ravager. In a lowered voice, She was the most terrible of them.

Of the sisters?

Of any of them. You know this is her castle, right? Not her sisters’. Even though she hasn’t been here in—well, a long time.

She’s the one that won the war?

"She was the war."

~

When the summons came for the Scarlet Suite, John was unsurprised. The castle had been abuzz for days, ever since the Ladies had received a missive that sent them into a scurrying excitement. And when Lady Agathe became excited, it was always the attendants who paid the price.

John tried to relax as he was scrubbed and buffed by the bath-maids, his muscled back oiled and perfumed, his black hair trimmed, his face closely shaved. It was a ritual to which he had become accustomed so long ago that he barely thought about it now. He did prefer Lady Nathalie’s ministrations to Lady Agathe’s—the dreamy sister had more straightforward pleasures than the mischievous one—but it was not his place to protest.

He found Lady Agathe sprawled languorously on her bed in the Scarlet Suite, surrounded by crimson coverlets and amber-colored silk pillows. Burgundy tapestries draped the walls, wine-colored rugs covered the floor, and a blood-red robe adorned the Lady herself. Barely. Underneath her flame-colored hair, the robe had fallen open to display a bare shoulder and the swell of a breast.

Despite himself, despite all he had seen and endured, John could not help but respond, like a dog salivating for its dinner. A quick, careful glance at Agathe’s watching emerald eyes told him she knew it, and approved.

Without speaking, John flared a heavy linen sheet over the bed, and shook out a second, holding it up and averting his eyes. Agathe shrugged off her robe and rolled onto her stomach, between the sheets, without a word.

She wanted silence, then. John twisted the cork out of a bottle of rosemary-scented